I MAY have just discovered the real, unexpected cause of traffic jams in Beijing: road-blocking demonstrators.

Earlier this week, I was cruising along in a cab at about 3.30pm, usually the lull period before the peak hour traffic. Suddenly, the taxi creaked to a halt and my heart sank at the sight of a mass of honking vehicles clogging up the four-lane road.

"It's strange to encounter a traffic jam at this time of the day," I remarked to the taxi driver.

"Maybe some demonstrators holding up traffic," he muttered.

I was immensely amused: what a great sense of humour Beijing cabbies have!

We inched along for what seemed like eternity, and suddenly spotted a man from afar surrounded by a gaggle of curious on-lookers. He was spawled on the road, chanting slogans drowned out by the din of stalled, croaking car engines.

"This is an unusual road-block." Or so I thought - until the following afternoon, when I walked out of the State Council Information Office building after a press conference by the chief banking regulator Liu Mingkang, along with some 30-odd journalists from local and international news agencies.

We were confronted with the sight of a demonstrator perched precariously on top of a two-storey-tall traffic light on the major eight-lane road. Some security officers were trying to coax the demonstrator down, while a fire engine truck and a few police cars had pulled up underneath, blocking part of the road.

Demonstrator, Mr Li, perching on top of a traffic light above Chaoyangmen inner street.
Source: Grace Ng

But this guy created more than a jam - he generated a media commotion.

Blissfully aware of the dozens of cameras trained on him while journalists and passers-by rushed to get a closer look at him, the demonstrator raised his voice in the name of human rights and power to the people.

"I can give good ideas to run the country! Give me the help of public opinion!" he yelled, while the flimsy paper sign bearing his name Li and his home town - the improverished poor Laohekou city in Hubei province - flapped in the winter wind.

Perhaps the chill was getting to the thinly-dressed, stocky man - I spied a look of relief on Li's face as the civil service personnel ascended in a moving ladder to pluck him down.

I must admit I could not help feeling rather disappointed that he didn't struggle or even protest; instead, Li tore up his paper sign wth a dramatic flourish and eagerly reached out for help to get onto the ladder. Once on the ground, he was promptly whisked away in a police car.

Anyway, his mission was accomplished - Li got his 15 minutes of media fame in front of a captive 'traffic jam audience'.

"What caused the jam just now?" asked the "shi fu" (driver) when I finally flagged down a taxi.

"Oh, it's a demonstrator," I replied.

The "shi fu" didn't even raise an eyebrow.