作者：冯仍
9月15日，中国新的出入境管理规定正式实施。这几天网上很多人在讨论这件事，有人说中国是不是要开始 “闭关锁国”了，也有人认为这种说法太夸张，因为普通人还是可以旅游、留学、探亲，也还是有人每天正常出入境。
https://www.gov.cn/zhengce/content/202607/content_7077172.htm
我觉得，如果只是争论中国是不是从9月15日开始“闭关锁国”，其实很容易把真正的问题忽略掉。我并不认为新规实施以后，中国人突然全部都不能出国了，也不认为机场从明天开始就会出现大量普通人被拦下来的情况。但这份规定真正让我担心的是，中国政府对于一个人能不能离开中国，手里的工具变得越来越多了，而且过去很多不公开、不透明的“边控”，正在一步一步被写进制度里面。
中国的边控其实早就存在，也不是什么新鲜事情。这些年我们经常看到维权人士、律师、异议人士、宗教人士，甚至政治犯家属，在准备出境的时候突然发现自己不能离开中国。有些人提前知道自己被限制，有些人一直到了机场刷护照的时候才发现自己已经被边控。最麻烦的是，很多时候当事人根本不知道是谁作出的决定，也不知道为什么限制，更不知道什么时候能够解除。
这次新规定里面，已经把一些可以限制中国公民出境的情况写得更加明确。比如因为骗取出入境证件、非法出入境受到行政拘留的，可以被限制六个月到三年不准出境。如果中国公民在境外从事某些活动，被认定危害国家安全和利益，回国以后也可以被限制出境。除此以外，新规还增加了“产业安全”和“技术安全”这样的内容，如果有关部门认为一个人违反出口管制、技术进出口管理等规定，并且“可能危害国家产业安全、技术安全”，也可以决定不准这个人出境。
我看到这里的时候，第一个想到的就是，“可能危害”到底怎么界定？什么样的人算危害技术安全？什么样的行为又算危害产业安全？一个普通企业技术人员和所谓关键技术人员之间到底有没有一个很清楚的标准？如果这些标准本身就很宽，最后真正有决定权的，还是有关部门自己。
这也是为什么台湾方面最近特别提醒一些在中国大陆活动的台商、企业干部、半导体和高科技人员，要注意可能存在的出境风险。当然，这并不代表这些人进入中国以后一定会被限制，也不能说所有技术人员都会变成边控对象。但是当政府能够使用的理由越来越多的时候，这种风险本身就值得关注。
另外一个让我非常在意的地方，是新规第三条里面提到，移民管理机构在核实身份和申请事由的时候，可以要求当事人提供有关文件、资料以及“电子数据”等信息。
“电子数据”这四个字看起来很普通，但它到底包括什么？手机里面的微信算不算？电子邮件算不算？社交媒体发过的内容算不算？照片、通讯录、聊天记录、云端文件算不算？这些东西在条文里面并没有说得很清楚。
现在一个人的很多生活都在手机里面。你和什么人联系，你参加过什么活动，你相信什么宗教，你发表过什么政治观点，甚至你和海外什么人有来往，都有可能留下记录。如果这些东西以后越来越多地和出境审查联系起来，那么边境检查就已经不只是检查一本护照和一张机票，而可能是在检查这个人本身。
还有第六条，我认为是整份规定里面非常值得注意的一条。它前面写的是，如果政府决定不准一个人出境，原则上应该书面告诉当事人不准出境的事实、理由、依据和救济途径。这个本来是应该的，也是最基本的程序保障。
但是后面又加了一句，如果有可能影响国家安全、刑事案件侦查等情形，可以不告知当事人。
问题又回到了“国家安全”这几个字。这些年在中国，国家安全的范围越来越大。宗教可以涉及国家安全，记者可以涉及国家安全，律师可以涉及国家安全，企业技术可以涉及国家安全，海外联系也可能被解释成国家安全问题。如果政府一方面可以限制一个人离开，另一方面又可以以国家安全为理由不告诉他具体原因，那么这个人真正能够申诉的空间到底还有多少？
一个人连为什么不能离开都不知道，又怎么证明自己没有问题？又应该去找哪个部门？要提交什么材料？什么时候才能解除？如果这些最基本的信息都不清楚，那么所谓救济很容易变成一句空话。
我一直觉得，中国现在很多问题不是没有法律，而是法律越来越多，政府手里的工具越来越多，而普通人面对这些权力的时候却越来越弱。现在出境管理里面出现了国家安全、产业安全、技术安全、风险防范、电子数据等越来越多概念，每一个单独看起来好像都有理由。
打击诈骗，我支持。打击偷渡，我也认为有必要。保护国家真正的技术秘密，也没有问题。政府提醒公民不要去战争地区或者诈骗园区，这些也都可以理解。
但问题是，当所有这些理由最后都集中到行政机关手里的时候，谁来限制这种权力？谁来保证“为了安全”不会慢慢变成“为了控制”？谁来保证今天针对的是诈骗，明天不会针对宗教人士，后天不会针对异议人士，再以后不会扩大到更多普通人？
所以我不想简单地把这次新规说成“中国从9月15日开始闭关锁国”。这种说法其实很容易被官方反驳。他们完全可以拿出机场数据告诉大家，每天还是有很多中国人正常出国，留学生还是在走，游客还是在走，商务人员也还是在走。
但真正的问题根本不是所有人能不能出去。
真正的问题是，当政府想让某一个人不能出去的时候，它是不是比过去拥有了更多工具，而且这些工具正在越来越制度化？
我认为，这才是我们应该关注的地方。
今天被限制的可能是一个异议人士，明天可能是一个牧师，后天可能是一个技术人员，再后来，也可能只是一个被某个系统认定为“存在风险”的普通人。对于十四亿人来说，被边控的人可能永远只是极少数，但对于那个到了机场突然发现自己不能离开的人来说，那就是百分之百。
他可能有护照，有签证，也已经买好了机票，所有手续看起来都没有问题，但到了边检柜台前，那一道门就是打不开。
我觉得一个国家真正的自由，不只是允许一个人在国内生活、工作和赚钱，还有一个很重要的标准，就是当一个人不愿意继续留在这里的时候，他有没有离开的权利。
政府当然可以依法限制犯罪嫌疑人逃跑，也可以在明确的法律条件下限制某些人出境，但这样的权力应该有非常清楚的边界，也应该告诉当事人为什么，限制多久，依据是什么，并且让当事人真正有机会去申诉和救济。
如果连为什么不能离开都可以不告诉你，那么最后剩下的就可能只是政府拥有决定权，而普通人只能接受结果。9月15日以后，中国的机场不会突然竖起一道铁墙，绝大多数人可能还是可以正常出入境。
但我担心的是，一张越来越严密的网正在形成。
它不会一下子罩住所有人，也不需要罩住所有人。
它只需要在政府认为“有必要”的时候，罩住其中某一个人。
而等这个人真正发现的时候，也许他已经站在机场的边检柜台前了。
编辑：胡丽莉 校对：程筱筱 翻译：戈冰
From “Internal Exit Bans” to Institutionalized Restrictions: What Has China’s New Exit-Entry Regulation Truly Changed?
Author: Feng Reng
Abstract: China’s new exit-entry regulation is not a sudden return to “national isolation,” but rather a further institutionalization of exit ban powers. Broad grounds such as national security, industrial security, and technological security, coupled with digital data inspections, are tightening a power network that restricts citizens from traveling abroad.
On September 15, China’s new exit and entry management regulations officially came into force. Over the past few days, many people on the internet have been discussing this matter. Some say whether China is starting to “shut its doors to the world,” while others consider such claims an exaggeration, pointing out that ordinary people can still travel, study abroad, and visit relatives as usual, and that people are still crossing the border normally every day.
https://www.gov.cn/zhengce/content/202607/content_7077172.htm
I believe that if we merely debate whether China has begun “shutting its doors to the world” since September 15, we risk overlooking the real issue. I do not believe that following the implementation of these new regulations, Chinese people will suddenly all be unable to go abroad, nor do I think that starting tomorrow, airports will see large numbers of ordinary people being turned away. However, what truly concerns me about these regulations is that the Chinese government now possesses an increasing number of tools regarding whether an individual can leave China, and many exit bans that were once undisclosed and opaque are being written into the institutional framework step by step.
Exit bans in China have in fact existed for a long time and are nothing new. Over the years, we have frequently seen rights defenders, lawyers, dissidents, religious figures, and even families of political prisoners suddenly discover that they cannot leave China when preparing to depart. Some know in advance that they are restricted, while others only find out that they have been subjected to an exit ban when scanning their passports at the airport. What is most problematic is that, in many instances, those affected have no idea who made the decision, why the restriction was imposed, or when it might be lifted.
In these new regulations, several conditions under which Chinese citizens can be restricted from leaving the country have been articulated more explicitly. For example, those who receive administrative detention for obtaining exit-entry documents through fraudulent means or for illegal exit and entry can be banned from leaving the country for six months to three years. If Chinese citizens engage in certain activities abroad that are deemed to endanger national security and interests, they may also be restricted from departing after returning to China. In addition, the new regulations have introduced provisions such as “industrial security” and “technological security”—if relevant authorities determine that an individual has violated regulations on export controls or technology import and export management, and that this “may endanger national industrial security or technological security,” they may likewise decide to prohibit that individual from exiting the country.
When I read up to this point, the first thought that came to my mind was, how on earth is “may endanger” defined? What kind of person is considered to be endangering technological security? And what kind of behavior counts as endangering industrial security? Is there actually a clear standard between an ordinary enterprise technician and a so-called key technician? If these standards themselves are extremely broad, the ultimate deciding authority still rests with the relevant departments themselves.
This is also why the Taiwanese authorities recently issued a specific reminder to certain Taiwanese businesspeople, corporate executives, semiconductor professionals, and high-tech personnel operating in mainland China to be mindful of potential exit risks. Of course, this does not mean that these individuals will definitely be restricted after entering China, nor does it imply that all tech personnel will become targets of exit bans. However, when the justifications available to the government continue to expand, this risk itself warrants close attention.
Another point that concerns me deeply is mentioned in Article 3 of the new regulations, which states that immigration management authorities, when verifying identities and application reasons, may require the individuals concerned to provide relevant documents, materials, and information such as “digital data.”
The two words “digital data” look quite ordinary, but what do they actually encompass? Does WeChat on a mobile phone count? Do emails count? Does content posted on social media count? Do photos, contacts, chat logs, and cloud files count? None of these are explicitly specified in the text of the regulations.
Nowadays, a person’s life is largely contained inside a mobile phone. Whom you contact, what activities you have attended, what religion you practice, what political views you have expressed, or even whom you have interacted with overseas—all of these can leave digital traces. If these things are increasingly linked to exit clearance examinations in the future, then border inspections are no longer merely checking a passport and a flight ticket; they may well be inspecting the person itself.
Furthermore, Article 6 is a clause in the entire regulation that I believe demands particular attention. It opens by stating that if the government decides to prohibit a person from exiting the country, it should, in principle, inform the individual in writing of the facts, reasons, legal basis, and avenues for legal remedy regarding the denial of exit. This ought to be the baseline expectation and represents the most fundamental procedural safeguard.
However, it then adds a clause stating that if there are circumstances that may endanger national security or impede criminal investigations, the individual may not be notified.
The issue comes back once again to those few words: “national security.” In China over recent years, the scope of national security has continued to expand. Religion can involve national security; journalists can involve national security; lawyers can involve national security; corporate technology can involve national security; and overseas contacts can likewise be interpreted as matters of national security. If the government can, on the one hand, restrict a person from departing, and on the other hand, withhold the specific reasons under the pretext of national security, then how much room for real appeal does that individual actually have left?
If a person does not even know why they are forbidden to leave, how can they prove their own innocence? Which department should they turn to? What materials should they submit? When will the restriction be lifted? If even these most basic pieces of information remain unclear, then the so-called legal remedy easily becomes nothing more than empty talk.
I have always felt that many of China’s current problems stem not from a lack of laws, but from the fact that laws are multiplying, the tools in the government’s hands are increasing, while ordinary people grow increasingly powerless when facing such authority. Nowadays, exit management incorporates an expanding array of concepts—national security, industrial security, technological security, risk prevention, and digital data—each of which may appear justifiable when viewed in isolation.
Cracking down on fraud, I support. Combating human smuggling, I also consider necessary. Protecting genuine state technological secrets is likewise unobjectionable. The government advising citizens against traveling to war zones or fraud compounds is equally understandable.
The real issue, however, is that when all these justifications ultimately concentrate in the hands of administrative agencies, who is there to constrain such power? Who will guarantee that “for security” will not gradually turn into “for control”? Who will guarantee that what is targeted today as fraud will not tomorrow be directed against religious figures, the day after against dissidents, and later expand to include even more ordinary people?
Therefore, I do not want to simply describe these new regulations as “China beginning to shut its doors to the world on September 15.” Such an assertion is actually quite easy for the authorities to refute. They can easily cite airport statistics to show everyone that many Chinese people are still going abroad normally every day, international students are still departing, tourists are still traveling, and business personnel are still making trips.
However, the real issue is not at all whether everyone can leave.
The real issue is: when the government wants to prevent a specific individual from leaving, does it possess far more tools than in the past, and are these tools becoming increasingly institutionalized?
I believe this is precisely what we should be paying attention to.
The person restricted today might be a dissident, tomorrow a pastor, the day after a technician, and later on, perhaps just an ordinary person deemed by some system to “pose a risk.” Out of 1.4 billion people, those subjected to exit bans may forever remain a tiny minority, but for that person who arrives at the airport only to suddenly discover they cannot leave, that reality is one hundred percent.
They may hold a passport, possess a valid visa, and have already purchased a flight ticket—with every formality appearing completely in order—yet standing before the border control counter, that single gate simply will not open.
I believe that true freedom in a country is not merely permitting a person to live, work, and earn a living domestically, but also includes a crucial standard: when an individual no longer wishes to remain here, do they retain the right to leave?
The government can, of course, restrict criminal suspects from fleeing according to law, and it can also restrict certain individuals from exiting the country under clearly defined legal conditions. However, such authority ought to have very explicit boundaries; it should inform the affected party of the reasons, the duration of the restriction, and the legal basis, while offering that individual a genuine opportunity to seek appeal and legal remedy.
If you can be kept in the dark even about why you cannot leave, then what ultimately remains is likely only the government possessing sole discretionary authority, while ordinary citizens can only accept the outcome. After September 15, China’s airports will not suddenly erect an iron wall, and the vast majority of people will probably still be able to cross the border normally.
What I worry about, however, is that an increasingly tight net is taking shape.
It will not descend upon everyone all at once, nor does it need to encompass everyone.
It only needs to descend upon a particular individual whenever the government deems it “necessary.”
And by the time that person actually discovers it, they may already be standing right in front of the border control counter at the airport.
Editor: Hu Lili Proofreader: Cheng Xiaoxiao Translator: Ge Bing
