But does he still have more fun?


We’ve covered the fact that despite the nation’s much-vaunted Confucian respect for age, a glossy dye-job or even a straight up wig is standard issue for Chinese politicians.

Of course, the same thing is true in the West to a certain extent, but it seems like even the least likely people are getting in on the act:

There has been speculation for a while that Boris’s fabled mop may have had a touch of the Marilyn Monroe to it. Last year, celebrity hairdresser Heinz Schumi claimed it was a ‘forgery’. ‘I’m telling you, it’s bleached,’ he told the Daily Mail. ‘I went to see him give a speech, and when the spotlights shone on his hair, it was kind of orangey — it doesn’t go light enough. Also, when hair is bleached, the follicles are broken so you manipulate it how you like — this is what Rod Stewart did, so I am absolutely certain he bleaches it.’

Yet no confirmation had ever come from Boris as to whether this was true. Indeed his own father told the Mail that it was ‘100 per cent nonsense’. ‘I remember when he was born in New York, I nipped off to get a pizza and when I returned he was swaddled with all the other babies — but quite distinguishable by this shock of white hair. So I can reassure the nation, it’s quite genuine,’ he said.

Well, now it seems the truth has emerged. In today’s Sunday Times Magazine, during an interview with Tim Shipman, Boris admits that he does in fact rely on the bottle. When conversation turns to Boris’s ‘bird’s nest of platinum hair’, he is keen to point out that ‘This is the real thing. It’s all natural.’ But when pressed as to whether or not he dyes it, he admits that ‘Yes’, he does. As Tim puts it, it is ‘real but enhanced, a little like the public personality.’


Rumour also has it that Boris deliberately musses his hair up before going in front of the cameras. Gotta protect the trademark, after all.




Zhou Yongkang: hair, protocol and weasels

Zhou Yongkang

Zhou Yongkang — erstwhile oil czar, former chief of China’s dreaded state security apparatus, a man once swaggering and fit enough to perform 50 to 100 pushups in front of fawning onlookers — has completed his transformation into a sad historical footnote. On June 11, China learned the man it once feared will spend the rest of his life in prison when the Number One Intermediate People’s Court in Tianjin, a large city near Beijing, handed Zhou his fate for corruption and abuse of power, both on a staggering scale. As the chief judge read the verdict aloud, his hands visibly shook. But Zhou already looked neutralized. What struck observers most profoundly was not the long prison term awaiting him, but the shock of heretofore-unseen grey hair on his head.

While it’s true that age is venerated in China, its leaders nonetheless make every effort to appear strapping — late Communist Party strongman Mao Zedong is famed for having swam the roiling Yangtze River. In the coded language of Chinese politics, there could be no more fitting image of Zhou’s swift passage from colossus to cipher than the simple change in hue.

For even mid-level Chinese bureaucrats, assiduous maintenance of a dark mane is part of the standard uniform of power. Zhou appearing without it is the state’s way of saying that it can deny him anything.

That includes a soapbox. Zhou’s trial was closed to the public, a sharp turnabout from the quasi-public trial of Bo Xilai in August 2013, another high-flying politician now imprisoned for corruption. Although Bo’s trial was not shown live, some details emerged via official court accounts on Weibo, China’s Twitter. Those materials quoted Bo speaking in his own defense, and even cross-examining witnesses testifying against him. Then again, Bo had built something of a fan base in China’s south, where he governed the megacity of Chongqing by fear and patronage. By contrast, Zhou, who has few if any defenders left, was shown on China Central Television (CCTV)’s flagship news broadcast, Xinwen Lianbo, bowing his head and reading from prepared remarks. “I accept the judgment of the court; I will not appeal,” Zhou intoned. “I admit the facts of my illegal conduct, and the harm I have done to the party enterprise.” He is not shown apologizing for any harm he may have done to the rest of China.

Chinese state media may not have hid the news — doing so would only lend it the alluring aura of the forbidden — but it has been careful to signal that whatever happens to Zhou is far less important than what President Xi Jinping and Prime Minister Li Keqiang are doing today. CCTV news positioned the story third in the night’s lineup. Xi’s meeting with Burmese opposition politician Aung San Suu Kyi led the broadcast, followed by Li’s attendance at a meeting on food safety. A commentary that followed the Zhou news emphasized that Xi and the party center have treated corruption “with life and death seriousness.” It’s best, the remarks seem to imply, to forget about Zhou and look toward the future.


Chinese authorities have not censored all mentions of Zhou, but they certainly have axed some, captured on the mirror site Freeweibo.com. Among them are expressions of surprise that Zhou was not sentenced to death. But there was also more on Zhou’s hair. “The number of years of his sentence, or even whether he was sentenced to death, ultimately don’t matter to China’s law, politics, or future,” wrote one user who claims to be a policeman from the mid-sized city of Xuzhou. “I just think it’s a shame he doesn’t have a head of black hair anymore.” The user quoted Romance of the Three Kingdoms, a novel about the jostling of feudal lords for primacy in post-Han dynasty China. The police officer used a phrase from the book describing an elderly but evil minister of court: a “white haired weasel, a grey bearded bandit.” Zhou, he implied, was never anything more than that.


For what it’s worth:

1. The hair thing is spot on. I once knew a high-ranking cadre who took his off every night when he got in from work.

2. But there’s no point reading too much into the order of precendence on the tv news. Protocol dictates that the President always appears first, no matter how dull his activities. There is a set order in which the doings of the elites are mentioned, and it is followed religiously, whatever else may be going on.