Is the London Book Fair supporting Chinese censorship?

"The west should not let itself be duped," says the Chinese writer Ma Jian, "there can be only one winner from flawed dialogues such as this." He pauses as his partner, Flora Drew, translates his fiery words into English, then waves his hands again and continues. "By excluding independent, dissident voices from the discussions, British cultural institutions are kowtowing to China's regime and giving tacit approval to China's suppression of free speech. This type of engagement strengthens the dictators and weakens the forces of liberalism. The fair is giving the Communist party a stage on which to perform its propaganda show."

Next week the London Book Fair welcomes China, the world's largest publisher by volume, as the 2012 "market focus" and has teamed up with the British Council to invite around 20 Chinese writers to west London for a series of readings, discussions and talks celebrating the best in Chinese literature. But the writers who make up the delegation and the events at which they'll be speaking have been chosen in consultation with partners including China's General Administration of Press and Publishing (Gapp), whose responsibilities include the censorship of newspapers and publishers. According to Ma this makes true cultural exchange impossible, and puts freedom of expression in China under yet more pressure.

"For China to be named guest of honour," he says, "for the British cultural establishment to be shaking hands with the Chinese head of propaganda, a man responsible for the banning and censoring of books and the imprisonment of writers, is disgraceful."

Ma, whose work has been banned in China since 1987 and who now lives in London, is among a number of authors critical of the Chinese government who have not been invited to speak at Earls Court. These include writers banned or exiled from China, such as the poet Bei Ling and the 2000 Nobel laureate Gao Xinjiang, writers working in China who dare to speak out against the regime, such as Chen Xiwo and Murong Xuecun , and writers who are languishing in Chinese jails, most notably the 2010 Nobel laureate Liu Xiaobo.

"Mainland writers can only express themselves within confines set by the state," Ma says. "They must avoid taboo topics, such as the Tiananmen massacre, Tibetan independence and the Falun Gong, and must above all never question the legitimacy of the Communist party. Through a process of censorship and self-censorship, published writers in China are forced to enter a silent pact with the regime, and ensure their thoughts don't stray too far from the party line."

The authors invited to take part in the book fair's cultural programme are all published writers, Ma continues, "so by definition they have been approved by the Chinese state. If the British Council is genuinely concerned with helping China open up, then it should not be cooperating so closely with Gapp, and it should include critical, independent voices in the debate. It's very doubtful that established writers such as head of the Chinese Writers' Association, Tie Ning, or Mo Yan will express their true feelings or opinions. When the Writers' Association holds its annual meetings, the politburo sit on the front row."

For Ma the selection of China as market focus is not only misguided, it makes things even more dangerous for writers in China. The 2008 Beijing Olympics were followed by China's appearance as guest of honour at the Frankfurt Book Fair in 2009, but throughout that period "freedom of speech has deteriorated in China," he says. "High-profile events such the Olympics and international book fairs have helped legitimise China's totalitarian state, giving it the international stamp of approval it craves, and allowing it to clamp down with greater force on critical voices back at home."

Ma says he used to be allowed back to China regularly, and tells how the secret police summoned him to a meeting over coffee and cakes at the Sheraton hotel in 2008, warning him not to speak in public, meet with foreign journalists or politically sensitive people. "I have a home in Beijing," he adds, "and would live there for many months at a time. But since last year, I haven't been allowed to return, and this, for me, indicates a marked deterioration of affairs."

According to Cathy McCann, who follows China for the writers' organisation International Pen, Ma's difficulties reflect a wider decline in the Chinese government's treatment of writers.

"Things have steadily worsened since 2008," she says, "despite the promises from the Olympic committee about freedom of expression." The number of authors who are arrested and imprisoned has remained "pretty stable", she continues, with International Pen currently aware of 35 writers in detention, "but in recent years soft detention, surveillance and harassment have increased. For example Liu Xiaobo's wife, Liu Xia, has been held under house arrest since October 2010 without any formal proceedings, in July 2011 only three out of 14 writers invited to a Pen round table in Beijing were able to attend, and it seems as if independent bookstores are finding it harder and harder to organise the events with authors on which they depend."

Working for an organisation which supports free speech, McCann is "certainly in favour of dialogue with China", she just wishes the dialogue could include "more writers who have critical or independent views."

"My concern is that state-sponsored dialogue doesn't reflect the full range of Chinese literary culture," she says. McCann also doubts that cultural events improve freedom of speech. "I haven't seen any improvement in conditions for Chinese writers following China's appearance at the Frankfurt Book Fair in 2009."

The editor of Index on Censorship, Jo Glanville, is equally dubious about the value of state-sponsored events for writers living under repressive regimes, suggesting that any book fair that "gets into bed" with regimes such as China or Turkey – guest of honour at Frankfurt in 2008 – or Saudi Arabia – guest of honour in Prague last year – is "working against" the freedom to write because "publishing is underwritten by our belief in freedom of expression".

"Obviously we want writers from repressive regimes to be able to travel and to be published here," she says, "but for a democracy, where censorship is recognised as being an evil, it's highly compromising to be associated with repressive regimes." The solution, she explains, is to work with independent specialists who are familiar with a country's literature, instead of state bodies, and issue invitations directly to authors themselves. "You've got to invite the writers, but do it independently of the government, or of quasi-governmental organisations," she says.

If a high-profile event focusing on Chinese literature risks further undermining freedom of expression in China, then why is the British Council teaming up with the body responsible for censorship to bring a bevy of Chinese authors to London? According to the British Council's director of literature, Susanna Nicklin, it's "business as usual".

"If you do business with books in China – if you're a publisher, a writer or whatever – then you have to talk to Gapp," she says. "They're the appropriate partner." The British Council is a cultural relations organisation, she continues. "We believe firmly that by engaging with other countries we can create relationships which will be in the best interests of Britain, other countries and the world."

She's hoping that the cultural programme at the fair will provide "a better understanding of China in the UK, and a better understanding of the UK in China", an aspiration with which all can agree, but which leaves any hopes for improving human rights unspoken. For Nicklin freedom of expression is just one element in the picture.

"We believe in freedom of expression," she says, "it's a very important part of British values developed since the Enlightenment and we believe that this is one of the things which makes British writers in such demand around the world. Our role is to represent a range of views around the UK, which includes organisations which aim to promote freedom of expression."

Nicklin rejects entirely the suggestion that high-profile cultural events might make things worse for writers living under repressive regimes.

"I have not yet seen or heard a direct causal link between the Frankfurt Book Fair and anything that has happened back in China," she says. "We've been doing this for 70 years and we believe that engagement creates change. I've spoken to these writers – I started speaking to them years ago. This is what they want. They want to come and they want to be part of it."

She's keen to stress the long-term nature of the British Council's engagement with China, the "huge range" of participating authors and an ongoing programme of events in 2012 beyond the fair – some of which include writers cited as voices missing from the London programme. UK festival appearances are already planned this summer for Murong Xuecun and Yan Lianke, another author who has tangled with the censors – Ma Jian himself is due to appear next week at an event in Oxford with writers from the delegation. "We always think about who's the writer, what are they writing, what's the audience," she explains.

The programme at the London Book Fair was "put together in discussion with UK and Chinese partners", she continues, with Chinese partners paying "for international flights and accommodation", but she rejects any suggestion that undue influence has been exerted. None of the writers suggested by the British Council or the independent experts consulted has been "vetoed" by the Chinese government or by Gapp, no invited author "has had problems obtaining a visa", neither has the British Council "been paid a fee to secure the slot". According to Nicklin, an invitation has not been issued to Liu Xiaobo, or any other imprisoned writers, since such an invitation "would not have actively contributed to achieving a cultural programme".

The director of the London Book Fair, Alastair Burtenshaw, is equally insistent that China's appearance as market focus is only the latest stage in an evolving relationship.

"There has been a very longstanding series of interactions between London and publishers in China," he says. "When I took over the book fair 12 years ago there was already a Chinese publishing presence, and since then it's built up steadily. At the same time UK publishers, with the Publishers Association, have been going to China for the past 20 years." He recognises that there are "issues" surrounding freedom of expression in China, but believes that the Book Fair "provides a real platform for engagement, for discussion, for ideas and debates".

For the writer Murong Xuecun the Chinese government isn't really interested in dialogue or cultural engagement.

"There will surely be some cultural exchange – even if not that much," he writes via translated email from Beijing. "But I presume that the main objective of this excursion of Chinese writers to London is not cultural exchange but to give the government 'face'. No doubt this event will feature in the annual list of 'achievements' of some government department."

Chinese leaders love to use the phrase "national situation", he continues, implying a need for "intellectual conformity" and for deterring "independent thought or creativity". During the Cultural Revolution writers were lectured, humiliated, even killed, but "it's a whole lot easier now – instead of just relying on violence to keep writers in line, the authorities have the added option of buying them. So, they buy some of them, arrest a few others and ignore the rest."

Creative freedom is full of "complex absurdities", Murong says. "What Publisher A can't publish, Publisher B may be happy to; what Editor A sees as unpublishable, may for Editor B be exemplary. But there are works that still can't be published – no matter what publisher or which editor." Works that mention the Great Famine, the Cultural Revolution, the Tiananmen incident, Falun Gong and so on "become difficult", but "at least these restrictions make some kind of sense … There are others that drive you nuts: you can't write about laws, about institutions, you can't describe social conditions, and even apparently innocent phrases like 'South China' or 'Henan Farmers' can be deemed sensitive. Even if a science fiction novel were set in deep space in the far future, the astronaut would have to be a party member, and establish a party branch in space."

As far as he's aware the delegation and the writers' visas have been "organised by the Chinese government".

"From this, one can conclude that the vast majority of those attending will be card-carrying 'official writers'." These official, or "licensed" writers are all "required to offer 'services to socialism'," Murong continues. "But I can't agree that it is right to call all these writers 'government representatives' because among them are many good and honest people, and good writers. As for why they decided to join the China Writers' Society and become 'official writers', they all had their own reasons."

Back in his north London exile, Ma Jian is equally convinced that literature is not the Chinese government's main concern.

"Hu Jintao has said that China should use soft power to counter the cultural hegemony of the west," he says. "Literature is being used as a weapon in a political and cultural war." The way the Chinese state uses writers "as pawns in their political games" makes him "angry", he continues. "Who will the British Council invite as guest of honour next – Iran?"

It's clearly difficult for societies which value freedom of expression to deal with those where authors are more tightly constrained, and those difficulties become more acute when writers living under those constraints tell us that our thirst for dialogue risks making the situation worse. There is always a danger of contamination when cultural organisations consort with censors, but what is the alternative? When governments are prepared to enforce their literary taste with travel bans and imprisonment even an unofficial invitation may only be accepted at the regime's pleasure.

Writing after the Prague Book Fair's invitation to Saudi Arabia was greeted with a storm of protest, the Saudi novelist Mohammed Hasan Alwan argued that if repressive regimes were excluded from cultural events it is the "writers themselves who would suffer the most … If you think we're persecuted in our own country through censorship and book bans, why on earth should we punished by international isolation as well?"

I can't vouch for the political credentials of the authors on the British Council's guest list next week. But you only have to look at the work of writers appearing at Earls Court such as Xu Zechen, A Yi or those appearing elsewhere in the UK such as Murong Xuecun to know that, despite the pressures on Chinese authors, it's possible to carve out a space to produce work which challenges and rewards. Will an invitation to the London Book Fair help these writers defend this precious resource or leave them and their colleagues more open to attack? I honestly don't know, and I'm wary of second-guessing the best interests of those who struggle daily against the censor's dead hand. Perhaps the British Council could have been bolder with some of its invitations, but while there's room for doubt about the long term effects of cultural engagement the presumption must be to go on talking. I'll be chairing a couple of events myself at the London Book Fair. Anyone who can get to Earls Court can put these difficult questions directly to the authors themselves – and that's a freedom not to be given up lightly.