At the “Genghis Security Academy,” which bills itself as China’s only dedicated bodyguard school, students learn that the threats to the country’s newly rich in the tech age are more likely to emerge from a hacker than a gunman.
Each day students in matching black business suits toil from dawn until midnight at the school in the eastern city of Tianjin, where digital defenses are given equal pegging to the traditional close-protection skill set of combat, weapons training and high-speed driving.
About 1,000 graduate each year, hoping to land jobs as guards to China’s burgeoning ranks of rich and famous, positions which can be worth up to US$70,000 — several times more than an annual office wage.
Photo: AFP
However, the school has said that it cannot meet demand as China’s rapid growth mints millionaires — 4.4 million according to a Credit Suisse report last year, more than in the US.
The course fees are up to US$3,000 a student; and while they had to cancel training between February and June because of the COVID-19 pandemic, it has not dampened demand.
Only the best make the cut, founder Chen Yongqing (陳永青) said, adding that his disciplinarian standards are stricter than in the army.
“I’m quick-tempered and very demanding,” the army veteran from China’s northern Inner Mongolia region told reporters.
“Only by being strict can we cultivate every good sword. If you don’t forge it well, it will break itself,” he said.
About half of the students are ex-military, Chen said.
They train in rows in a large, shabby sports hall, holding blue plastic guns ahead of them with a steady stare — before practicing hustling their clients safely into a black Audi with smashed windows.
Other sessions are held in a classroom or gym, where they box in matching red T-shirts.
Mobile phones are confiscated throughout, while meals are taken in silence in a large dining hall presided over by pictures of acclaimed graduates, who have protected everyone from China’s second-richest man, Jack Ma (馬雲), to visiting French presidents.
“We have been defining the standard of Chinese bodyguards,” instructor Ji Pengfei told reporters.
In one class, students in pairs worked through a scenario protecting a client from an intruder.
“Danger!” shouted Ji, prompting the guard to quickly throw their “boss” behind them and pull out a gun in the same move.
Those who failed to do it in two seconds were assigned 50 push-ups.
The guns at the Tianjin school are fake — China outlaws possession of firearms. For live firearms training, students are taken to Laos.
However, in a highly surveilled country with a low rate of street crime, the modern minder needs an up-to-date skill set, against state monitoring or professional hackers.
“Chinese bosses don’t need you to fight,” Chen told his students of a client base, which includes the country’s biggest real-estate and tech firms.
Repelling hacks on mobile phones, network security, spotting eavesdroppers and wiping data are all required tools in the bodyguard’s armory.
“What would you do if the boss wants to destroy a video file immediately?” Chen asked a class.
Even so, old-school threats still exist in China — earlier this year billionaire He Xiangjian (何享健), founder of Midea and one of the country’s richest men, was kidnapped at his home.
According to Chinese media, He’s son escaped by jumping into a river and was able to call the police, who said they arrested five suspects at the scene.
Student Zhu Peipei, a 33-year-old army veteran from northern Shanxi Province, hoped that becoming a bodyguard could offset his lack of professional skills or academic qualifications.
“And of course, it’s cool,” he added.
However, the alumni of the Genghis Academy also provide humdrum services, like accompanying children of the rich and famous to school — for a fee of 180,000 yuan (US$26,592) a year.
That in itself is far more than the base salary in private companies of about 53,000 yuan.
Students must also navigate the quirks of their wealthy clients, Ji said.
Some only trust bodyguards whose Chinese zodiac sign matches theirs, he said — while one, from a Fortune 500 company, only wanted to hire from his hometown.
Another demanded a prospective bodyguard tell him what books he liked to read — he was hired after saying he liked military novels.
The best can command as much as 500,000 yuan a year inside China, but some set their sights on a posting overseas, potentially working with foreign clients.
“I want to work in the Philippines or Myanmar,” one student said, requesting anonymity. “Then I can carry a gun ... it will be more challenging and I can earn more.”
POLITICAL PATRIARCHS: Recent clashes between Thailand and Cambodia are driven by an escalating feud between rival political families, analysts say The dispute over Thailand and Cambodia’s contested border, which dates back more than a century to disagreements over colonial-era maps, has broken into conflict before. However, the most recent clashes, which erupted on Thursday, have been fueled by another factor: a bitter feud between two powerful political patriarchs. Cambodian Senate President and former prime minister Hun Sen, 72, and former Thai prime minister Thaksin Shinawatra, 76, were once such close friends that they reportedly called one another brothers. Hun Sen has, over the years, supported Thaksin’s family during their long-running power struggle with Thailand’s military. Thaksin and his sister Yingluck stayed
In the sweltering streets of Jakarta, buskers carry towering, hollow puppets and pass around a bucket for donations. Now, they fear becoming outlaws. City authorities said they would crack down on use of the sacred ondel-ondel puppets, which can stand as tall as a truck, and they are drafting legislation to remove what they view as a street nuisance. Performances featuring the puppets — originally used by Jakarta’s Betawi people to ward off evil spirits — would be allowed only at set events. The ban could leave many ondel-ondel buskers in Jakarta jobless. “I am confused and anxious. I fear getting raided or even
Kemal Ozdemir looked up at the bare peaks of Mount Cilo in Turkey’s Kurdish majority southeast. “There were glaciers 10 years ago,” he recalled under a cloudless sky. A mountain guide for 15 years, Ozdemir then turned toward the torrent carrying dozens of blocks of ice below a slope covered with grass and rocks — a sign of glacier loss being exacerbated by global warming. “You can see that there are quite a few pieces of glacier in the water right now ... the reason why the waterfalls flow lushly actually shows us how fast the ice is melting,” he said.
Residents across Japan’s Pacific coast yesterday rushed to higher ground as tsunami warnings following a massive earthquake off Russia’s far east resurfaced painful memories and lessons from the devastating 2011 earthquake and nuclear disaster. Television banners flashed “TSUNAMI! EVACUATE!” and similar warnings as most broadcasters cut regular programming to issue warnings and evacuation orders, as tsunami waves approached Japan’s shores. “Do not be glued to the screen. Evacuate now,” a news presenter at public broadcaster NHK shouted. The warnings resurfaced memories of the March 11, 2011, earthquake, when more than 15,000 people died after a magnitude 9 tremor triggered a massive tsunami that