China Cracks Down For "Feel Good" Show
China's motto for its games is, "One world, one dream." But as CBS News correspondent Barry Petersen reports, since Hua Huigi's dream is religious freedom for Christians who meet outside of government-run churches, officials don't want him near their feel-good Olympic world.
They imprisoned his 78-year-old mother, and Hua says that last month police smashed into his apartment and warned him: Behave properly during the Olympics, the swarm of police told him, or we might make you disappear.
His friend, Qi Zhiyong, has disappeared.
Dissidents fear security forces will use Olympics protection as an excuse for more roundups. But officials say the 100,000 soldiers are just keeping the games safe. They've even installed anti-aircraft guns around major venues.
As for protests, especially on Tiananmen Square, police stop them in seconds because each echoes the 1989 pro-democracy demonstration put down by gunfire.
China didn't promise an open Olympics, just a secure one. And, if they are successful, it might just backfire. Human rights campaigners say it could prompt the average Chinese to ask some very uncomfortable questions.
Activist John Kamm thinks he knows what those questions are.
"We can create the fastest growing economy in the world, we can have a successful Olympic Games, why can't we elect our own leaders?" Kamm says.
And in the name of security, the Chinese seem intent on taking the fun out of games. Outdoor cafes are banned, music festivals cancelled, and forget about celebrating all night. Bars will close at 2 a.m. sharp.
And forgot that promise the Chinese made about freedom of the press. Video footage shows reporters roughed up while covering a crowd buying tickets for the games.
At the fancy new media center, Internet sites the Chinese don't like are blocked. Just getting permission to come here, was an ordeal, say Americans.
"You never knew what they were going to reject you for," says American tourist Tony Ramondo. "They always came back with extra questions."
And if that isn't enough, a $17 billion battle against air pollution bought a few blue-sky days.
Yet the soup over the city keeps coming back, so these could be the Olympics of one world, one dream, but lots of coughing.