Tianjin blasts: China orders nationwide checks on dangerous chemicals

By The Guardian

China has issued an emergency notice ordering a a nationwide examination of dangerous chemicals and explosives as questions mount over how authorities in Tianjin allowed people to live so close to an industrial zone where hazardous chemicals are believed to have caused a series of catastrophic blasts that left at least 56 people dead.

The State Council called on authorities around the country to “learn bitter lessons from the two massive blasts, and to crack down unwaveringly on illegal activities to ensure safety”.

The blasts rocked Tianjin late on Wednesday night after a blaze at a warehouse belonging to Ruihai International Logistics, a firm specialising in storing and transporting hazardous goods. A giant mushroom cloud rose into the sky and the blasts reduced the surrounding area – which is cluttered with high-rise residential buildings from which thousands of inhabitants have now fled – to an apocalyptic wasteland. 

On Friday an article in the People’s Daily newspaper asked why authorities had allowed such neighbourhoods to coexist with warehouses storing explosive and poisonous chemicals. The nearest residential compound is just 600 metres away from the warehouse, according to some reports.

“People question why there are so many residential buildings near this storage place for dangerous goods,” the People’s Daily said. 

It said guidelines introduced in 2001 stipulated that warehouses storing dangerous chemicals should be positioned “at least 1km away from public buildings, major transport roads, railways and waterways, and industrial and mining enterprises”. It asked: “Why is this 1,000m safety restriction so difficult to follow?”

When a Chinese journalist attempted to raise similar questions with Tianjin officials at a press conference, the state broadcaster CCTV reportedly cut off its live feed of the event.

Concerned citizens aired their fears on social media. “How many timebombs like this does China have?” wrote one user on Weibo, China’s microblogging site.

The country’s state-controlled media has sought to highlight the scale and success of the rescue operation mounted by the Communist party in response to the disaster. On Friday morning there were reports that rescue teams had found a survivor not far from the centre of the blast zone. Rescuers discovered a 19-year-old firefighter – named as Zhou Ti – at 7.05am, according to Xinhua, China’s official news agency. “Has the fire been put out?” he reportedly asked after waking up.

Zhou was taken to Tianjin’s Teda hospital and is in a stable condition, according to the Paper, a Shanghai-based news website. The discovery offered a rare glimmer of hope as authorities tried to help those left injured or homeless. With acrid black smoke still billowing from the disaster zone, more than 1,020 firefighters continued to battle raging fires in the area.

The official death toll rose to 56, including 21 firefighters, and is likely to increase further. Of the 721 people reported injured, 25 are critically wounded and another 33 are in a serious condition, according to Xinhua. At least 18 people are missing, according to authorities. 

Displaced residents took shelter in the homes of relatives or in makeshift government camps set up in primary schools. At least 6,000 people were expected in such shelters by Thursday night, a local official said. By Friday morning around 200 volunteers and family members looking for lost relatives were milling around outside the primary school opposite a GlaxoSmithKline building in Tianjin.

Xie Penchen, a 20-year-old student at Tianjin Business University, said the relocated residents staying at the school were free to come and go, but volunteers were not allowed in. Ten army guards stood at the front gate of the compound, alongside a police car. At the front of the gate, volunteers had erected a tent where they were maintaining long lists and posters featuring the names, descriptions and contact details of some of the missing.

“We have a group on WeChat where volunteers circulate the names of the missing and inform each other if anyone has been found” Xie said. Asked why the government wasn’t doing this work, Xie said: “They’re focussing on the explosion. That’s more important than this. They don’t have extra energy to deal with this as well.

“Of course this is important too, but while they direct their energy to that, common people like us can offer our help in this way.”

Han Jin, a retired teacher who lives in the Wantong buildings in the Vantone Central Park compound close to the blast site, said she had fled her flat taking nothing but her pink-eared poodle, Little Jingjing.

“When we had to leave, my husband told me to take valuables but all I took was Little Jingjing,” she said. “I wouldn’t dream of leaving Jingjing alone here. As long as we’re together it’s fine – even if we die together.” Han said help – and answers – were not reaching victims fast enough. “On TV all you can see are reports about the army being dispatched to the scene but there’s no news that we really need,” she told the Guardian, standing beneath dozens of crumpled window frames that had been destroyed by the blast.

“What about the questions we really need answers to? When will it be safe to come back? Is the air OK? For people like us who live within 2km of the blast site, how long do we have to wear these masks? What’s happening with the rebuilding and repairs? When can we come back?” Another woman, who gave her name only as Ms Zhang, offered a more generous appraisal of the official response. “It is national news, so of course the central government will have to do something about it,” Zhang said as she returned to inspect an apartment in the same compound that was the home of her relatives until Wednesday night.

“At times like these what else can you do but depend on the government’s help? There has been a lot of work done by volunteers but to deal with damage of this scale, the government’s help is needed.”

At Vantone Central Park, approximately 1.5 miles from the scene of the disaster, signs of the blast were everywhere. The glass facade of the Jingcheng Real Estate company had been shattered. From a fourth-floor apartment a man peered down from a paneless window at a carpet of glass. A bright red banner hanging at the heart of the compound read: “It is everyone’s duty to report crimes involving guns and explosives.”

Authorities admitted they had still not been able to determine which chemicals were being stored in the warehouse at the time of the disaster, blaming “major discrepancies” in company and customs records. Liu Yandon, a senior member of the Communist party, visited Tianjin on Friday morning and ordered officials there to provide the best possible medical care to the wounded. Liu said psychological support and counselling should be offered to families of the dead and injured as well as to rescue workers.

A shopkeeper who gave his name as Mr Zhang was working at his convenience store in the residential compound on Friday morning. “It was like a huge [gust of] wind from a massive storm,” he said of the disaster that had devastated his community. The ceiling above the shopkeeper had largely caved in and the ground was littered with crumbling roof tiles, but Zhang insisted he would stay. “We’ve been listening to government updates and they say there is no problem,” he said.

But with nearly every apartment having suffered damage, most neighbours had sought shelter in a nearby school, he admitted. “Everyone has moved out of here. They all ran off. They’re afraid to come back.”