By Steven Mufson

Washington Post Foreign Service

BEIJING, Sept. 10 -- If a woman stood distributing leaflets at an international conference in Rockville, protesting U.S. policy toward, say, Haiti, she probably would be ignored or treated as a curiosity as people scurried past on the way to offices or sandwich shops.

But when a woman protesting Chinese policy toward Tibet passed out leaflets in a small town an hour's drive outside Beijing, Chinese security guards grabbed her materials and filmed, pushed and punched her.

It may seem incredible that one woman, or even a handful of women, armed with pamphlets, could provoke any reaction at all from a government that rules with 55 million Communist Party members, a 3 million-man army, a hefty police force, nearly half a century in power, and economic growth that is the envy of much of the world.

Yet women gathered here have triggered such a response, with five days to go in the United Nations Fourth World Conference on Women in Beijing and the conclusion Friday of the related forum of non-governmental organizations (NGOs) in the suburbs. Chinese security forces have rifled through people's documents, disrupted meetings, eavesdropped on conversations and tried to keep most Chinese away from the meetings.

The clashes over leaflets, harassment and surveillance have reflected differences in outlook between China and most of the world represented by the visitors.

A major factor the insecurity and insularity of China's leadership in the twilight years of patriarch Deng Xiaoping, 90. The government's show of force -- thousands of extra policemen deployed -- ended up seeming a sign of weakness. Although there is no organized opposition in China to speak of, the government has managed to give the impression that enemies have it under siege.

"Insecure people tend to be intolerant, and their intolerance unleashes forces that threaten the security of others," said Burmese dissident and Nobel Peace Prize winner Aung San Suu Kyi in a videotaped message played on the opening day of the NGO women's forum.

"There are still people around who are threatened by smart, capable women," Supatra Masdit, head of the forum's organizing committee, said as she introduced Hillary Rodham Clinton to an audience that had tussled with Chinese security men to hear the American first lady.

When Deng initiated the policy of an "open door" to the West 17 years ago, he seemed more sure of himself. He warned that whenever a door was opened, a few flies come in. But he said it was worth it to obtain Western technology and expertise, build a stronger economy and improve the lives of Chinese people.

The current Chinese leaders still have the door open but they fear the flies so much that they swat at them with sledgehammers.

One aspect of the Chinese leadership's insecurity is the ghost of the 1989 student demonstrations against the government, which ended in a bloody crackdown by the army after weeks of protests in Tiananmen Square and central squares in other major cities.

To leaders like Premier Li Peng, who signed the 1989 order instigating martial law, one paramount lesson of 1989 is to prevent the small District cabbie saying he couldn't find the Mall.

The government has even quashed art exhibits. An American law firm placed women's pictures in a hallway outside its offices. But before the exhibit opened, the cultural ministry said the firm needed a permit and ordered all the pictures moved inside.

Another factor in the Chinese treatment of the women's conferences has been the Maoist tradition of party control -- and suspicion of anyone claiming to represent an independent interest group.

The famous woman writer Ding Ling discovered the attitude of the party in 1942 when she suggested that "woman" was a social and political category as valid and important as "proletariat."

She pointed to inequality of women even in the Communist revolutionary-era stronghold of Yanan, where she lived. "It would be better if there were less empty theorizing and more talk about real problems," she said. "If women want equality, they must first strengthen themselves." For this, Ding was publicly criticized, and she fell from party favor.

Today the party's attitude is reflected in its posture toward non-governmental organizations. In China, there is virtually no such thing as an NGO. Almost every group, from churches to anti-smoking groups, from environmental groups to women's organizations, must be part of a stamped, approved and registered organization or it is illegal.

As a result of these government connections, or "mothers-in-law," as many people here call them, Chinese organizations are dubbed GONGOs, or "government-organized non-government organizations."

Even these groups are monitored by the party's own United Front Organization or are forced into the powerless Chinese People's Political Consultative Congress. Fund-raising is tightly controlled.

Expatriate women living in Beijing discovered how tight this system of control can be. After holding a meeting attended by 400 would-be volunteers earlier this year, the Chinese government ordered the group disbanded, barring it from raising money for volunteer activities.

Yet another factor in Chinese defensiveness is fear that open discord signals weakness. In this country, disagreements take place behind closed doors.

Until April, the government didn't take the women groups seriously, assuming that their meeting would be dominated by shopping and polite conversation. In April, however, the government moved the NGO forum out of the capital.

China had realized the potential threat posed by having tens of thousands of women asking for "empowerment," rights, respect and fair treatment in a nation where none of those things can be taken for granted. And if women could ask for such things, what would stop others from following suit?