Elites and Governance in China 2012038033, 9780415813761, 9780203306796

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Elites and Governance in China

This book reveals the complex relationship between elite perceptions, behaviour and governance in China. It moves away from existing scholarship by focusing on functionaries, grassroots elites, leading intellectuals and opinion makers in China, and, by looking beyond the top leadership, makes a significant contribution to our understanding of shared governance and broadened political participation in China. The chapters in this collection explore the elites’ role as opinion makers, technical experts, producers of knowledge and executives or managers, and pose a number of questions, the answers to which are crucial to understanding future political and economic development in China. What are elite perceptions of governance, inequality and justice; what do the elites mean by good governance; what is the influence of non-Chinese Communist Party elites in policy making and implementation in China; how have they exerted their influence in the People’s Republic of China and influenced its direction of future development; and what have grassroots elites contributed to governance in local communities? Providing a keen insight into the role elites have played in governing China since 1978, this book is a pioneering effort to bring together elite studies and governance studies. As such, it will be highly relevant for policy makers within international organizations, governments and non-governmental organizations outside China, as well as appealing to scholars and students interested in Chinese politics and governance. Xiaowei Zang is Professor and Head of the School of East Asian Studies at the University of Sheffield, UK. Chien-wen Kou is Professor in the Department of Political Science and Director of the Graduate Institute of East Asian Studies, National Chengchi University, Taiwan.

Routledge Studies on China in Transition Series Editor: David S. G. Goodman

1 The Democratisation of China Baogang He 2 Beyond Beijing Dali Yang 3 China’s Enterprise Reform Changing state/society relations after Mao You Ji 4 Industrial Change in China Economic restructuring and conflicting interests Kate Hannan 5 The Entrepreneurial State in China Real estate and commerce departments in reform era Tianjin Jane Duckett 6 Tourism and Modernity in China Tim Oakes 7 Cities in Post-Mao China Recipes for economic development in the reform era Jae Ho Chung 8 China’s Spatial Economic Development Regional transformation in the Lower Yangzi Delta Andrew M. Marton 9 Regional Development in China States, globalization and inequality Yehua Dennis Wei

10 Grassroots Charisma Four local leaders in China Stephan Feuchtwang and Wang Mingming 11 The Chinese Legal System Globalization and local legal culture Pitman B. Potter 12 Transforming Rural China How local institutions shape property rights in China Chi-Jou Jay Chen 13 Negotiating Ethnicity in China Citizenship as a response to the state Chih-yu Shih 14 Manager Empowerment in China Political implications of rural industrialisation in the reform era Ray Yep 15 Cultural Nationalism in Contemporary China The search for national identity under reform Yingjie Guo 16 Elite Dualism and Leadership Selection in China Xiaowei Zang 17 Chinese Intellectuals Between State and Market Edward Gu and Merle Goldman 18 China, Sex and Prostitution Elaine Jeffreys

19 The Development of China’s Stockmarket, 1984–2002 Equity politics and market institutions Stephen Green

30 China’s Embedded Activism Opportunities and constraints of a social movement Edited by Richard Louis Edmonds and Peter Ho

20 China’s Rational Entrepreneurs The development of the new private business sector Barbara Krug

31 Marketization and Democracy in China Jianjun Zhang

21 China’s Scientific Elite Cong Cao

32 The Chinese State in Transition Processes and contests in local China Edited by Linda Chelan Li

22 Locating China Jing Wang 23 State and Laid-Off Workers in Reform China The silence and collective action of the retrenched Yongshun Cai 24 Translocal China Linkages, identities and the reimagining of space Tim Oakes and Louisa Schein 25 International Aid and China’s Environment Taming the yellow dragon Katherine Morton

33 China’s Governmentalities Governing change, changing government Edited by Elaine Jeffreys 34 China’s Cotton Industry Economic transformation and state capacity Björn Alpermann 35 Serious Crime in China Policing and politics Susan Trevaskes

26 Sex and Sexuality in China Edited by Elaine Jeffreys

36 The Chinese State’s Retreat from Health Policy and the politics of retrenchment Jane Duckett

27 China’s Reforms and International Political Economy Edited by David Zweig and Chen Zhimin

37 China’s Changing Welfare Mix Local perspectives Edited by Beatriz Carrillo and Jane Duckett

28 Ethnicity and Urban Life in China A comparative study of Hui Muslims and Han Chinese Xiaowei Zang

38 Small Town China Rural labour and social inclusion Beatriz Carrillo

29 China’s Urban Space Development under market socialism T.G. McGee, George C.S. Lin, Mark Y.L. Wang, Andrew M. Marton and Jiaping Wu

39 Tiger Girls Women and enterprise in the People’s Republic of China Minglu Chen 40 China’s Thought Management Edited by Anne-Marie Brady

41 Rural Tax Reform in China Policy processes and institutional change Linda Chelan Li 42 Young Chinese in Urban China Alex Cockain 43 Prostitution Scandals in China Policing, media and society Elaine Jeffreys

44 Unequal China The political economy and cultural politics of inequality Edited by Wanning Sun and Yingjie Guo 45 Elites and Governance in China Edited by Xiaowei Zang and Chien-wen Kou

Elites and Governance in China

Edited by Xiaowei Zang and Chien-wen Kou

First published 2013 by Routledge 2 Park Square, Milton Park, Abingdon, Oxon OX14 4RN Simultaneously published in the USA and Canada by Routledge 711 Third Avenue, New York, NY 10017 Routledge is an imprint of the Taylor & Francis Group, an informa business © 2013 Xiaowei Zang and Chien-wen Kou The right of the editors to be identified as the authors of the editorial material, and of the authors for their individual chapters, has been asserted by them in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or utilized in any form or by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publishers. Trademark notice: Product or corporate names may be trademarks or registered trademarks, and are used only for identification and explanation without intent to infringe. British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library Library of Congress Cataloging in Publication Data Elites and governance in China/edited by Xiaowei Zang and Chien-wen Kou. pages cm. – (Routledge studies on China in transition) Includes bibliographical references and index. 1. China – Politics and government – 1949– 2. Elite (Social sciences) – China. 3. Political leadership – China. I. Zang, Xiaowei. JQ1510.E55 2013 320.951 – dc23 2012038033 ISBN: 978-0-415-81376-1 (hbk) ISBN: 978-0-203-30679-6 (ebk) Typeset in Times New Roman by Florence Production Ltd, Stoodleigh, Devon, UK

Contents

List of illustrations List of contributors

x xi

1

1

Introduction: elites and governance in China XIAOWEI ZANG AND CHIEN-WEN KOU

References 10 2

Discourses of justice and class: impact of China’s intellectual elites on social policy

12

YINGJIE GUO

Introduction 12 Intellectual elites vis-à-vis the party-state 13 Discourses of social justice 17 Discourses of social classes 22 Conclusion 27 Notes 29 References 29 3

The role of intellectual elites in China’s political reform: the discourse of governance

34

YINGJIE GUO

Importing ‘governance’ and ‘good governance’ to China 35 More zhili (governance), less tongzhi (government) 40 Good governance vs democracy 44 Conclusion 49 Notes 51 References 51 4

Moving between the inner circle and the outer circle: think tanks and policy making in China QUANSHENG ZHAO

Institutions 55

54

viii Contents Changes and continuities 57 Channels between the inner and outer circles 58 Reasons for change 67 Future directions 69 Notes 70 References 70 5

Master planning the nation: elites and the transformation of China’s built environment

73

DAVID BRAY

Introduction: Mrs Guo moves house 73 Elites and the built environment 75 Master planning 78 Urban Planning Exhibition Centres 81 Xiaoqu part I: the planner 86 Xiaoqu part II: the developer 89 Conclusions 91 Notes 92 References 92 6

Community governance and elite activism in urban China

94

CHUNRONG LIU

Introduction 94 Sources of elite’s neighborhood activism 96 The evolution of grassroots politics in urban China 98 Elite activism in the Renheng community 100 Conclusion 104 Notes 105 References 107 7

Intermediate associations, grassroots elites and collective petitioning in rural China YU TAO AND MINGXING LIU

Introduction 110 Definitions of key concepts 111 Existing theories of intermediate associations and collective action 114 Descriptive statistics of national survey data 117 A new approach 121 Respective cases 123 Conclusions and discussion 128 Notes 130 References 131

110

Contents  ix 8

Information collection and anticorruption in China

136

YONGSHUN CAI

Introduction 136 Information collection and anticorruption 137 Anticorruption in China: sources of information 140 Limitations of citizens’ reports 142 Constraints faced by citizens 143 Political calculations as a screening mechanism 146 Inconsistency in disciplining malfeasant agents 148 Conclusion 150 Notes 151 References 151 Index

153

Illustrations

Figures 5.1 5.2 5.3 5.4 5.5 5.6 7.1

Mrs Guo’s current home Mrs Guo’s future home Scale model of Nanjing Information display on ‘Community Public Infrastructure’ Interactive digital exhibitions Two variant plans for a xiaoqu drawn on a whiteboard Four types of Intermediate Associations (IA) in rural China

74 74 82 83 85 87 122

Tables 3.1 3.2 6.1 7.1 7.2 7.3 7.4 7.5 8.1 8.2 8.3

Number of articles published between 1990 and 2000 Number of articles published from 2000 to 2011 Candidate profiles, the 2009 Renheng RC election Basic information on sample villages Intermediate Associations (IA) with different kinds of leaders Distribution of the Intermediate Associations (IA) in sample villages Provincial distribution of collective petitioning in sample villages Possible impact of Intermediate Associations (IA) on collective petitioning Sources of information on corrupt cadres Reports received and cases investigated by disciplinary agencies The discipline of cadres in China

37 39 104 118 118 120 121 123 140 142 147

Contributors

David Bray is Senior Lecturer in the Department of Sociology at the University of Sydney, Australia. Yongshun Cai is Associate Professor in the Division of Social Sciences at the Hong Kong University of Science and Technology, Hong Kong. Yingjie Guo is Associate Professor in the China Research Center at the University of Technology, Sydney, Australia. Chien-wen Kou is Professor in the Department of Political Science, National Chengchi University, Taiwan. Chunrong Liu is Associate Professor in the School of International Relations and Public Affairs at Fudan University, China. Mingxing Liu is Associate Professor in the China Institute for Educational Finance at Peking University, China. Yu Tao is a PhD student in the Department of Politics and International Relations at the University of Oxford, UK. Xiaowei Zang is Professor of Chinese Studies and Head of the School of East Asian Studies at the University of Sheffield, UK. Quansheng Zhao is Professor and Director of the Center for Asian Studies at the American University, Washington, DC, USA.

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Introduction Elites and governance in China Xiaowei Zang and Chien-wen Kou

This edited volume examines elite perceptions and behaviour with regard to governance in the People’s Republic of China (PRC). Elites are the privileged groups that wield disproportionally large power and influence in society (Zang 2004). They can be business leaders, key opinion makers, important politicians, leading intellectuals, and so on, who control major material, symbolic and political resources within a country. Perceptions refer to a mixture of norms, values, and evaluative and non-evaluative understanding of a situation or event (Reis and Moore 2005: 2–3). Governance is measured in terms of expectations, the allocation of power and resources, and performance appraisal. Thus, this book will be highly relevant for policy making for international organizations, governments and non-governmental organizations (NGOs) outside China, and appeal to scholars and students interested in Chinese politics and governance. In addition, this book is a pioneering effort to bring together elite studies and governance studies for an analysis of the relationship between elites and governance in China. It is surprising that there have been few efforts to understand governance in China from the perspective of elite perceptions and behaviour (Zang 2006). This may result from the preoccupation on institutions in research on governance in China and the preoccupation on elite background characteristics and mobility in elite studies (Zang 2008). This edited volume will address this knowledge gap as discussed below. Many social scientists have analysed governance in terms of institutions in the PRC. They are puzzled by China’s rapid economic progress since institutions such as independent judiciary that are believed to be essential for market growth do not exist in the PRC (Li and Lian 1999; Shevchenko 2004). This has thus fuelled a lively discussion about the nature of China’s political institutions and the extent that the capacity of the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) to govern has changed since market reforms started in 1978. Scholars have contemplated whether the PRC has made genuine efforts to institutionalize its political and economic systems (Alpermann 2009; Burns 1998; Heilmann 2005; Zang 2005) and whether the CCP has revitalized itself and consolidated its legitimacy and ability to rein in the PRC (Breslin 2006; Dickson 2000; 2004; Laliberté and Lanteigne 2007; Shambaugh 2009).

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Scholars interested in institutional approaches have seldom used the elite as a key variable in research on governance perhaps because there might be an oblivious and risky movement towards an analysis of governance from the perspective of agency. However, it is necessary to point out that risk does not exist since elites are the product of institutions (Reis and Moore 2005: 2; also Zang 2004). Equally important, because of their strategic position in society, the political elite are more likely than other social groups to determine the fate of a political regime, shape its path of reform and change, and have inputs in the formation of institutions. This is particularly true for China since Chinese leaders govern the PRC as an autocracy. They have presided over the CCP, the Chinese state and the PRC where institutions have been historically weak (Pei 2006). Unlike their counterparts in former socialist regimes in Eastern Europe (McFaul 1995, 2006), the Chinese political elite have remained in power to guide market reforms and heightened participation in the world economy after 1978. They are likely to be a key explanatory variable of why the CCP survived the political crises of 1989 (Hua 2006; Sun 1995) and why the PRC has yet to undergo the twin processes of political change and privatization that have already occurred in many former socialist countries in Eastern Europe (Walder 2004). It is extremely difficult, if not impossible, to understand China’s political and economic trajectory relying on a study of its political institutions. Elite perceptions and behaviour matter with regard to governance in the PRC. Accordingly, this book goes one step further than to examine how institutions determine the capacity to rule in China. Its main focus is on how the elites think and do in terms of governance in China, supplementing the institutional analysis of governance with the insights from elite studies. There have already been many good studies of the political elite in post1978 China, which have closely followed the research programme and methodology set up by Robert Scalapino (1972). Their focus has been on the main background characteristics of China’s top leaders and recruitment into leadership posts in the CCP and the PRC (Bo 2007; Lee 1991; Li 2001; Shih 2009; Zang 1991, 1993, 1998, 2001a, 2001b, 2004). The findings from this literature are important since they show how much the Chinese political system has changed and how open it has become. However, the existing literature on elite recruitment and mobility is not very helpful in promoting understanding of how the elites govern the PRC. Moreover, existing elite studies are essentially a literature on the top leadership in the PRC. It has not adequately examined officials at the lower rungs of the power hierarchy in China and the elites who are not politicians as if governance is an exclusive realm of the top leaders in the PRC. In fact, the top leaders formulate policies after listening to other social groups such as opinion makers and leading intellectuals in China, and rely on their subordinates to implement policies (Zang 2004). To address the knowledge gaps in governance studies and elite studies mentioned above, the editors of this book organized an International Conference

Introduction  3 on ‘Elites and Governance in China’ held at the National Chengchi University (NCCU) in Taiwan in November 2010. The conference was supported by a generous grant from the Chiang Ching-kuo Foundation for International Scholarly Exchange and by funding support from the NCCU. More than thirty scholars from Australia, China, Hong Kong, Taiwan, the UK and the US attended this first international scholarly dialogue on the elites and governance in China. The chapters in this edited volume were selected from the papers presented in the conference. The contributors carefully revised their papers after receiving constructive comments and suggestions from the editors. As noted, the existing literature on China’s leadership has focused on national political elites. In comparison, the elites studied in this edited volume are functionaries, grassroots elites, leading intellectuals and opinion makers in China. Unlike the existing literature on China’s leadership, our interest lay not in the elites’ backgrounds or how they had risen to the positions they held, but rather in what they actually thought and did with regard to governance in the PRC: in this respect, our academic concern was focused on their role as opinion makers, technical experts, producers of knowledge and executives or managers. Accordingly, the questions the contributors of this book ask include: What are elite perceptions of governance, inequality and justice? What do the elites mean by good governance? What is the influence of non-CCP elites in policy making and implementation in China? How have they exerted their influence in the PRC and influenced its direction of future development? What have grassroots elites contributed to governance in local communities? These questions are central to a good understanding of how the elites have governed post-1978 China. The findings reported in Chapters 2–8 show the active and effective participation in governance by a wide range of the elites, including leading intellectuals, functionaries and grassroots/or community elites. They have introduced new concepts such as social justice and good governance into the PRC, guided and taken part in the discourse on how best China will be governed, and turned central policies into realities. The findings also show the importance of community elites in maintaining social stability at the grassroots levels. Clearly, although the Chinese Communist Party has maintained a firm grip on power in the PRC, governance in China has evolved into a complex political enterprise in which multiple key social actors have actively influenced, negotiated and participated in the processes of governing, including decision making and policy-implementation. The PRC is no longer the country in which the CCP led everything from 1949 to 1978. The major change in governance in China has been the outcomes of significant social, economic and political transformations in the post-1978 era. When the Cultural Revolution ended in 1976, the Chinese economy was on the brink of collapse and the official ideology of the CCP had lost its appeal to Chinese citizens (Sun 1995). To restore its mandate to rule, the CCP decided to pursue market reforms of China’s economy while insisting on its dictatorship over Chinese society. Indeed, the rapid economic growth has

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turned China into the second largest economy in the world in some thirty years, the CCP’s confidence in its ability to rule has been greatly strengthened and the Chinese leaders have become increasingly assertive in international affairs. At the same time, market reforms have diversified the economic and occupational structures in the PRC. As a result, interest groups, including charity organizations and neighbourhood committees, have mushroomed and vied with one another and with the state to articulate their aspirations and advance their ambitions. The Internet, Twitter, blogs, and such like, have become major outlets for unofficial or unorthodox voices to be heard. The print and electronic media have also joined this gala because of the relentless pursuit of profits and cut-throat competition for survival (Zang 2011). These new developments have been structurally determined and cannot be stopped or slowed down by strict control and monitoring by the party-state. It is extremely difficult for the CCP to continue its one-party dictatorship since the cost of effective bureaucratic control over a complex economy and increasing plural society is forbiddingly high and thus unrealistic. The growing participation of governance by multiple social groups has become a political fact regardless of whether or not the CCP welcomes or disapproves it. The CCP is no longer in a position to monopolize governance as it did in Mao’s China of 1949–76, partly because of its economic globalization strategy. Mao’s policy of maintaining China’s self-reliance from the capitalist world economic system was economically unsustainable and proved to be a costly mistake that the CCP made in the first 29 years it was in power. The CCP elite realized that to survive economically in today’s world, China had no choice but to participate in the international division of labour and international trade. Yet participation in the world capital economy compelled the PRC to import and accept some key ideas and concepts related to the governance of a market economy. These ideas and concepts, such as transparency and accountability, have either been derived from the governance of a society in the West, or have direct implications on how a society is governed. To reject them is to reject the rules of the game of the world economy in which the PRC has participated. To accept them is to allow a new style of governance in China, which departs from party dictatorship and demands the involvement of various social actors. Of course, from the perspective of agency, one may argue that the Chinese political elite have the capacity or determination to bring China back to the era of self-reliance and self-imposed isolation from the international community if it chose to do so. This would be a likely scenario if its reign were undermined by its interaction with the rest of the world and regime change became a real possibility. However, the PRC regime has appeared to entrench its position due to rapid economic growth in the post-1978 era. As long as the benefits of participation in the global economy outweigh the political costs/ risks, Chinese leaders are happy and willing for their country to be a member of the international community. Given China’s huge trade surplus and the resulting large foreign current reserves, few, if any, would agree that it is not

Introduction  5 advantageous for the PRC to engage the world. In fact, the Chinese political elite are striving for a bigger say in international affairs to promote the image and status of the PRC in the international community to better advance China’s strategic interests on the world stage (Olson and Prestowitz 2007; Yang 2005). To reach this target, the political elite have realized that it is essential for the PRC to behave according to international norms and standings. This is partly why the discourse on governance has been accepted or even encouraged in the PRC. Furthermore, the CCP has selectively welcomed inputs from various sectors in society. Culturally, China has a long history of Chinese statecraft in which the gentry, intellectuals and officials were encouraged to submit ideas to the emperor. A good emperor was a king who listened to opinions from different people in order to govern society effectively. This has formed the cultural background for the change in governance in the post-1978 era. Today, the increasingly confident Chinese leadership is proclaiming the revival of the Middle Kingdom, and is eager to learn from experts inside and outside China how to behave as the leader of an emerging superpower. Proposals for strengthening political stability, ethnic unity, and so on, are either enthusiastically greeted or cautiously welcomed by top leaders, especially if they are judged to be beneficial and cost-effective for the enhancement of governance. In other words, opinion makers and other elite groups have played an increasingly important role in governance in the PRC. Moreover, the CCP elite have realized that they cannot do everything themselves given that they have only seven days a week. They have to rely on bureaucrats at the lower rungs of the political hierarchy to manage the Chinese state and society. They have been less anxious about the movement of some corners of society beyond the direct reach of the state: these corners (e.g. village governments and rural organizations, as discussed in Chapter 5) can be governed by non-CCP elites or can become more or less autonomous as they are no longer the strategic sources of revenue for China. The PRC has increased its economic reliance on international trade and rural China has increasingly been regarded as a financial burden rather than an asset. This is partly why the CCP elite has promoted village elections and become more tolerant of the participation of governance at the grassroots level by a growing number of community elites. In other words, grassroots elites have played an increasingly important role in governance in the PRC. However, as noted, the changes in governance in post-1978 China have not been adequately examined, especially in terms of elite perceptions and behaviour in general, and inputs from elites on the lower rung of the political hierarchy and those who are not politicians. Thus, the contributors to this book analyse the involvement of governance by some key elite groups in terms of their contributions to policy making and implementation in the PRC. The elite groups they study include intellectuals, opinion makers, government functionaries, community leaders and village chiefs. They examine both elite perceptions and behaviour. The research methods the contributors have used

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include in-depth interviews, surveys, observations, and so on, with which they have built solid databanks for their studies. The empirical analyses are conducted sophisticatedly and the main findings are presented effectively in the chapters that follow. In Chapter 2, Yingjie Guo takes a discourse-centred approach that delves into the issues that intellectuals grapple with rather than their structural positions vis-à-vis other social groups or their institutional affiliations; Guo does not take intellectuals’ autonomy from the party-state as an end in itself but analyses intellectuals’ ideological orientations. Guo offers a snapshot of China’s intellectual elites’ social role through analysing intellectual discourses on the interrelated issues of social justice and social class, and the impact of the discourses on the government’s social policy. While intellectual discourses converge with the party line in some areas, they challenge it, fill gaps in it, distort it, or generate pressure on the party-state to take action on sociopolitical issues and shape government policy. Policy making is no longer an exclusive realm of the CCP as it was during the Mao era of 1949–76. Intellectual elites have played an increasingly important role in developing concepts and policies for governance in the PRC. In Chapter 2, Yingjie Guo shows how the discourse of governance in the PRC has generated a great deal of academic interest and begun to affect the conceptualization of statecraft, rulership, government and political control among social commentators and party-state officials. The discourse on governance is more amazing than the one on social justice and classes since in large part the emergence, development and impact of the discourse are attributable to the efforts of China’s intellectual elites who have introduced an essentially foreign idea to China and brought it to bear on political reform in the country. In effect, the intellectual elites have created a centripetal circle of influence around the party-state and helped induce a paradigm shift in conceptualization and normative prescription from government to governance and from good government to good governance. That illustrates the intellectual elites’ critical role as knowledge producers, opinion makers, agents of globalization and a driving force for domestic change, despite assertions by critics about their marginalization during market transition and their capitulation to or cooptation by the CCP. In Chapters 2 and 3, Yingjie Guo studies how Chinese intellectuals have affected policy making on domestic affairs in the PRC. In Chapter 4, Quansheng Zhao examines how Chinese intellectuals and other social groups have participated in the policy-making processes of Chinese foreign policy. Zhao develops a conceptual framework, moving between the ‘inner circle’ and the ‘outer circle’. He points out a key development since 1998 – the increasingly active and multilayered channels between the inner circle (the top leaders in the Chinese government) and the outer circle (think tanks and scholars). Zhao outlines a notion of seven channels between these two bodies. These types of policy mechanisms include consultations with policy makers, internal reports, conferences and public policy debates, policy NGOs, outside-

Introduction  7 system discussions, overseas scholars and epistemic community. Zhao discusses each of these mechanisms in detail, and argues that recent developments in policy communities and increased activity by think tanks have achieved great progress in influencing the foreign policy-making process in Beijing, beginning between the eras of Mao and Deng and continuing to the present time. This success is due to three changes in Chinese society: the development of civil society, greater demand for policy input and growing professionalism in foreign policy apparatus. However, think tanks still face severe limitations, including a lack of ability to openly criticize official foreign policy due to the authoritarian nature of the PRC and a lack of personnel exchange between think tanks and government agencies, on account of the continued peripheral status of think tanks. One may anticipate that as civil society continues to develop in China, there will be both increased demand for policy input and increased professionalism in both governmental agencies and think tanks. It is likely that this will push scholars and policy communities to play more significant functions in the policy-making process. In other words, the limitations on think tanks may become weaker in the future. Chapter 5 shows that elite perceptions affect not only policy making but also policy implementation in the PRC. David Bray studies how government functionaries have turned concepts and ideas into realities at the national level. He points out a paradox in contemporary China that the decline of the planned economy since 1978 has been accompanied by an increase in the influence of town planners, architects and urban designers. The new Urban and Rural Planning Law (2008), which mandates formal ‘master planning’ for every scale of administrative territory from the nation down to the village, underscores the alignment of governmental and professional commitment to purposefully shape the built environment for political, economic and social ends. The elite discourse and practice of ‘master planning’ that has emerged in recent years, then, manifests not only in grandiose mega-projects like the Beijing Olympics and the Shanghai Expo, but also in thousands of other development projects across the nation: new ‘CBDs’, urban housing estates, county development zones, ‘new villages’, and so on. Taking examples from various scales of planning, Bray shows that in contemporary China, elite discourses of planning are just as likely to affect distant villages or peri-urban suburbs as the heart of Beijing or Shanghai. Moreover, the significance of contemporary ‘master planning’ lies less in discourses of national resurgence than in a new manifestation of utopian modernism launched by Chinese leaders through the ‘theory of scientific development’: within this paradigm, the key objective of government planners is to reorder and standardize the built environment so as to render communities and economies more transparent and governable. In Chapter 6, Chunrong Liu explores why and how local residents who are members of elite groups in society engage in community governance in Shanghai. The elite groups include expatriates from the West, business people, retired government officials, and overseas Chinese from Hong Kong, Singapore and Taiwan. He claims that the local government has promoted the formation

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of networks and associations among residents, and the resulting associational life has created social space for citizen participation in governance and civil activism by elite residents. The extent to which privileged residents are involved in neighbourhood politics depends not on material incentives as conventional wisdom would suggest, but on an interactive process of framing and identity reconstruction in a civic setting in urban China. This is illustrated by ethnographic evidence of elite behaviours in an upper middle-class urban neighborhood in Shanghai, where group participatory initiatives have not only created an action context, but also cultivated collective awareness among elite residents and fostered their engagement in community governance. Liu’s study shows an increasing role in urban governance played by individuals who are not part of the political establishment in the PRC. He also shows how grassroots officials and privileged residents have worked together to produce political stability and governability in the authoritarian context. Do grassroots elites perform a similar role in governance in rural China? As noted above, in the post-1978 era, the CCP has retreated from direct intervention in rural politics, and many interest groups have emerged in China that have the potential to challenge the status quo. How do village leaders contribute to political stability in rural China? In Chapter 7, Yu Tao and Mingxing Liu analyse the development and governance modes of intermediate associations and explore the roles of village leaders in reducing the frequency of collective petitions in China’s villages. Using data on petitions by rural peasants and intermediate association in rural China from a national representative sample and in-depth interviews, Liu and Tao develop four ideal types of intermediate association (Shadows, Puppets, Mavericks and Cooperators) for a study of petitions by rural peasants. ‘Shadows’ refer to the associations such as the Women’s Federation or Communist Youth League. Although these organizations are called ‘mass associations’ in China, they are essentially government agencies. They are run by village leaders and do not have the trust from ordinary villagers. These associations can hardly persuade peasants to give up petitioners. ‘Puppets’ refer to the associations that are not selfgoverned such as the Folk Dance Society. They are established in response to the upper-level government’s call to preserve and develop traditional Chinese culture. Some members receive salaries from the government. They are viewed as the puppet of the government by ordinary villagers and are unable to ask peasants not to carry out petitions. ‘Mavericks’ refer to the intermediate associations that are self-governed but not embedded in the existing official political structure in rural China (such as village churches). Such originations are full of vitality and are not run by village leaders. They are likely to support petitions by their members. Finally, ‘Cooperators’ refer to the associations that are self-governed but have members who are village leaders. It thus provides an ideal platform for village cadres and ordinary villagers to exchange ideas and suggestions among them. As a result, these organizations have reduced the frequency of collective petitions. This chapter shows that the mode of governance in Mao’s era embodied in the dichotomy between dominating

Introduction  9 village leaders and submissive peasants (Oi 1985) can no longer apply to rural China today, now that new modes of rural governance have emerged and that it is possible for the CCP to maintain political stability in the countryside if village leaders are strategically positioned in rural fabrics. Given the importance of elite perceptions and behaviour with regard to governance in the PRC, one cannot help but wonder how the Chinese leadership manages these elites to ensure they serve the regime’s interests. The central authorities have marginalized or even suppressed the elites who are political outsiders (体制外) and have challenged the CCP’s legitimacy. One example is the jail sentence the government has imposed on the 2010 Nobel Peace Prize winner Liu Xiaobo, a Chinese literary critic, writer and human rights activist who has called for political reforms and the end of communist one-party rule. Another example is Ai Weiwei, a Chinese artist who is active in sculpture, installation, architecture, photography, film, and social and political criticism. He has been openly critical of the PRC’s policy on democracy and human rights, and investigated government corruption and cover-ups. In 2011, he was held by the police for over two months without any official charges being filed. It remains to be seen how effective the Chinese government’s policy in suppressing political dissidents and maintaining one-party rule in the PRC will be. How do the central authorities discipline the elites who are part of the power hierarchy (体制内) to make sure that they do not deviate from official policy? This question can be partially addressed with a study of official anti-corruption campaigns in China. Rampant cadre corruption has become a major governance issue in China today, and top leaders have repeatedly stated that utter, unchecked corruption would ultimately undermine the CCP’s legitimacy, and they have called for measures to stamp out official corruption. Yongshun Cai provides a case study in Chapter 8. He points out that a state’s political will of anticorruption is fundamental to its success in curbing corruption. In most societies, corruption cannot be entirely prevented ex ante, so what is crucial to ex post anticorruption is obtaining timely and accurate information on it. Cai proposes an approach to assess a state’s political will by examining how information on corruption is collected and used in China. Cai suggests that a state with a strong political will is better able to win the support of its people in the collection and use of such information. In contrast, a compromised political will of anticorruption not only makes it difficult for the state to obtain timely and accurate information but also results in ineffective use of information. Cai uses the coexistence of rampant corruption and the disciplining of a large number of officials in China to elaborate on the interaction among the state’s political will, information collection and anticorruption efforts. Together, the above seven chapters provide solid evidence of how elite perceptions and behaviour affect governance in the PRC. They offer a reference point for research on and forecasts of the political and economic development in China in the past and the years to come. For example, the discourse on social

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classes and poverty among Chinese intellectuals (Chapter 2) might have had a direct impact on the CCP’s resolution to build a harmonious society (和谐社会) in the PRC. The discourse on governance might have motivated the Chinese top leaders to start to discuss or even adopt some of the international norms in governance (such as accountability and transparency). In fact, the importance of this edited volume goes far beyond its attempt to enlarge the scope of elite studies and bring the elite into mainstream social science research on governance for a better understanding of policy making and implementation in the PRC. Inadequate attention to the role of the elite in governance has left a substantial gap in the scholarship on China, East Asia and the developing countries more generally. There has been only one book on elite perceptions of poverty and inequality in developing countries (Reis and Moore 2005). A thorough assessment of and dialogue on elite perceptions and behaviour will result not only in a better understanding of the political system in China, but more importantly will help re-examine institutional approaches and many of the concepts and terms of reference with which mainstream social science studies of political behaviour in general and governance in particular are conducted.

References Alpermann, Björn. 2009. ‘Institutionalizing Village Governance in China’. Journal of Contemporary China, 18 (60): 397–409. Bo, Zhiyue. 2007. China’s Elite Politics: Political Transition and Power Balancing. Singapore: World Scientific. Breslin, Shaun. 2006. ‘Serving the Market or Serving the Party’, in Richard Robison (ed.), The Neo-Liberal Revolution, pp. 114–31. New York: Palgrave. Burns, John. 1998. ‘China’s Governance: Political Reform in a Turbulent Environment’. China Quarterly, 119: 480–518. Dickson, Bruce J. 2000. ‘Cooptation and Corporatism in China: The Logic of Party Adaptation’. Political Science Quarterly, 115 (4): 517–40. Dickson, Bruce J. 2004. ‘Dilemmas of Party Adaptation: The CCP’s Strategies for Survival’, in Peter Gries and Stanley Rosen (eds), State and Society in 21st Century China, pp. 140–58. New York: RoutledgeCurzon. Heilmann, Sebastian. 2005. ‘Regulatory Innovation by Leninist Means’. China Quarterly, 181: 1–21. Hua, Shiping. 2006. ‘The Deng Reforms (1978–1992) and the Gorbachev Reforms (1985–1991) Revisited’. Problems of Post-Communism, 53 (3): 3–16. Laliberté, André and Marc Lanteigne. 2007. The Chinese Party-State in the 21st Century Adaptation and the Reinvention of Legitimacy. London: Routledge. Lee, Hong Yung. 1991. From Revolutionary Cadres Party Technocrats in Socialist China. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press. Li, Cheng. 2001. China’s Leaders: The New Generation. Boulder, CO: Rowman & Littlefield. Li, Shuhe and Peng Lian. 1999. ‘Decentralization and Coordination: China’s Credible Commitment to Preserve the Market under Authoritarianism’. China Economic Review, 10 (2): 1621–90.

Introduction  11 McFaul, Michael. 1995. ‘State Power, Institutional Change, and the Politics of Privatization in Russia’. World Politics, 47 (1): 210–43. Oi, Jean. 1985. ‘Communism and Clientelism: Rural Politics in China’. World Politics, 37 (2): 238–66. Olson, Stephen and Clyde Prestowitz. 2007. The Evolving Role of China in International Institutions. Washington, DC: Economic Strategy Institute. Pei, Minxin. 2006. China’s Trapped Transition: The Limits of Developmental Autocracy. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Reis, Elisa and Mick Moore. 2005. ‘Elites, Possessions and Poverties’, in Elisa Reis and Michael Peter, Elite Perceptions of Poverty and Inequality. London: Zed Books, pp. 1–25. Reis, Elisa and Michael Peter. 2005. Elite Perceptions of Poverty and Inequality. London: Zed Books. Scalapino, Robert A. 1972. Elites in the People’s Republic of China. Seattle, WA: University of Washington Press. Shambaugh, David. 2009. China’s Communist Party: Atrophy and Adaptation. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press and Woodrow Wilson Center Press. Shevchenko, Alexei. 2004. ‘Bringing the Party Back In’. Communist and Post-Communist Studies, 37 (2): 161–85. Shih, Victor C. 2009. Factions and Finance in China: Elite Conflict and Inflation. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Sun, Yan. 1995. ‘Ideology and the Demise or Maintenance of Soviet-type Regimes: Perspectives on the Chinese Case’. Communist and Post-Communist Studies, 28 (3): 319–38. Walder, Andrew. 2004. ‘The Party Elite and China’s Trajectory of Change’. China: An International Journal, 2 (2): 189–209. Yang, Jiemian. 2005. ‘China’s Foreign Policy under New Leadership’, http://irchina.org/ en/xueren/china/view.asp?id=848 (accessed 20 November 2011). Zang, Xiaowei. 1991. ‘Provincial Elite in Post-Mao China’. Asian Survey, 31 (6): 512–25. –––– . 1993. ‘The Fourteenth Central Committee of the Chinese Communist Party: Technocracy or Political-Technocracy?’ Asian Survey, 33 (8): 787–803. –––– . 1998. ‘Ethnic Representation in the Current Chinese Leadership’. The China Quarterly, 153: 107–27. –––– . 2001a. ‘Educational Credentials, Elite Dualism, and Elite Stratification in China’. Sociological Perspectives, 44 (2): 189–205. –––– . 2001b. ‘University Education, Party Seniority, and Elite Recruitment in China’. Social Science Research, 30 (1): 62–75. –––– . 2004. Elite Dualism and Leadership Selection in China. London: Routledge. –––– . 2005. ‘Institutionalization and Elite Behavior in Reform China’. Issues and Studies, 41 (1): 204–17. –––– . 2006. ‘Special Issue on Social Change and Policy-Making in China’. Policy & Society, 25 (2): 1–189. –––– . 2008. ‘Major Theoretical Perspectives of Elite Mobility in China’, in Te-Sheng Chen (ed.), Elite Politics on the Eve of the Seventeenth Party Congress in China, pp. 63–90. Taipei: INK Press. –––– . 2011. ‘Government and Changing State–Society Relations’, in Xiaowei Zang (ed.), Understanding Chinese Society. London, New York: Routledge.

2

Discourses of justice and class Impact of China’s intellectual elites on social policy Yingjie Guo

Introduction Among the social groups that rose to prominence in the major social and political changes of the twentieth century, three elites – intellectuals, the managers of industry and the high government officials – have been singled out as the inheritors of the functions of earlier ruling classes and as vital agents in the creation of new forms of society in many countries (Bottomore 1964: 52). Intellectual elites in particular figured prominently in China’s major cultural and political movements of the last century. However, there has been a prevalent perception since the Tiananmen events of 1989 that China’s intellectuals, especially those who fail to capitalize on their expertise either through commercialization or provision of policy advice to government departments, or who do not criticize the Chinese Communist Party (CCP), are increasingly marginalized in society and sliding into irrelevance. It is hard to say with any certainty whether the present generation of Chinese intellectuals as a whole is more powerful and significant than their pre-modern predecessors, as many have said of modern intellectuals in general (e.g. Bourdieu 1971; Habermas 1971; Bell 1976). It is debatable, too, whether they are less powerful and significant than ‘the sixth generation intellectuals’ or dissidents of the late 1970s and 1980s who challenged the party-state openly (Mok 1998: ix–x). The disputes in these debates cannot be settled easily as they are rooted in contrasting or irreconcilable ideological positions and value judgements. Even while granting that today’s intellectual elites pale by the side of the ‘sixth generation’, few would deny the significant role they play in China’s intellectual-political debates and sociopolitical change. No less feasible and fruitful than comparing the status and importance of the present generation and that of previous generations is to ask what role they actually play. This question is obviously too broad and complex to be dealt with in this chapter. The purpose of the following analysis is to provide a snapshot of the role that China’s intellectual elites play in society through analysing recent intellectual discourses on a couple of interrelated sociopolitical

Discourses of justice and class  13 issues that the Chinese government must address – namely, social justice and social class – and the impact of the discourses on the government’s social policy and governance more generally. Although analyses of intellectual discourses may not be able to answer these questions conclusively, they complement research focusing on autonomy, the critical spirit and state– intellectual relations. Any research on the role of intellectuals is most likely to touch on questions of autonomy, but autonomy should not be presupposed in the definition of intellectuals; it is the object of investigation. It is therefore essential that ‘the definition employed scrupulously avoids prejudging the ideological proclivities of intellectuals, for it is precisely their ideological orientations we wish to explain’ (Karabel 1996: 207). For that reason, this chapter accepts a largely neutral definition of ‘intellectuals’ as ‘those who contribute directly to the creation, transmission and criticism of cultural products and ideas’ (Bottomore 1993: 53), particularly social scientists who engage with sociopolitical issues in the intellectual sphere or symbolic realm of knowledge, values, meaning or discourses (Bourdieu 1993: 166; Gu and Goldman 2004: 6). The word ‘elite’ means a group in society that is generally ‘considered to be superior because of the power, talent, privileges, etc. of its members’ (The Oxford English Dictionary). And ‘intellectual elites’ specifically refers to groups of outstanding social scientists and political commentators who engage with sociopolitical issues in the intellectual sphere. Well-known intellectual elites in the PRC include the liberal writers such as Xu Youyu, Zhu Xueqin and Liu Junning, and members of the New Left, such as Wang Hui, Hu Angang and Wen Tiejun.

Intellectual elites vis-à-vis the party-state The study of elites is particularly fruitful, as Bottomore notes (1993: 7), in exploring their relations with other elites and major social classes, in addition to the size of the elites, the number of different elites, the recruitment of their members and the degree of their social mobility. These approaches are commonly used in the research on the subject and have provided invaluable insights. In focusing on intellectual discourses and their impact on governance, this chapter departs from these practices and complements relational analyses in a couple of ways. First, it takes a discourse-centred approach that delves into the issues that intellectuals grapple with instead of their structural positions vis-à-vis other social groups or their institutional affiliations. Second, it does not take autonomy from the party-state as an end in itself, but analyses intellectuals’ ideological orientations and the difference that autonomy, or the lack of it, makes to their social role. This approach is premised on the assumption that the role of these elites can be discerned from discourses on the most important social issues of the day, the similarities and dissimilarities between these discourses and the party line, and the impact of such discourses on government policies. This is not to imply that their status and influence in society have nothing to do with their

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structural positions in society; on the contrary, role changes have much to say about the shifts in these relationships, and vice versa. Indeed, it may well be that the Chinese intellectuals’ position in society continues to be shaped by their relationships with other elites, particularly the ruling class, as most authors agree. However, much is neglected or ignored when their influence is conceptualized and explained exclusively in relational terms. This is certainly the case when the relevant relationships are overgeneralized or oversimplified. The classification of China’s intellectual elites into ‘establishment’, ‘nonestablishment’ and ‘anti-establishment’ subcategories, for example, elides much of the complexity of their status and identity. A problem with the classification is that it assumes too much correlation between the intellectuals’ ideological orientations and their institutional affiliations. An even more fundamental flaw is its failure to acknowledge that, on the one hand, the ‘establishment’ is far less monolithic, homogeneous or totalizing than is assumed and, on the other, intellectual elites are too heterogeneous to fall neatly into the three subcategories. Since the uniform images of the establishment and intellectuals are not tenable, it is wrong to suggest that intellectuals are collectively supportive of, detached from or opposed to every belief, vision or policy of the central party-state. In fact, even dissident intellectuals who appear to the outside world to be against the establishment are not always ‘antiestablishment’; many are ‘dissidents’ only because their patrons or sponsors are not the dominant faction in the CCP currently in control of policy formulation (Ogden 2004: 113–14). Another difficulty with the notion of a monolithic ‘establishment’ is the lack of coherence and consistency in the party-state’s ideological and policy orientations in the reform era. Its well-known reform strategy of ‘crossing the river by groping for stone’, in particular, is experimental in nature and characterized by trial and error. The strategy came about because the partystate did not always have a good idea about the direction of specific reforms or about the best steps to take. Hence, the central leadership often ventured into uncharted territories and encountered unexpected problems, which became the subject of debate not just within the party but in the public sphere as well. Consequently, even the central leaders cannot always speak with one voice, let alone the numerous officials within the complex party-state apparatus at all levels of jurisdiction. The trial-and-error reforms and the fluidity of the situation has led to glaring contradictions and numerous grey areas in the official value system and policies, together with considerable uncertainty with regard to what the party-state stands for, where it stands on a broad range of issues, where it is headed, and what it considers desirable, acceptable, appropriate, justified or otherwise. Meanwhile, the space for relatively free intellectual debate is greatly expanded, even though sensitive topics remain taboo. Such labels as ‘establishment’, ‘non-establishment’ and ‘anti-establishment’ become meaningless where it is unclear what the party line is or when intellectuals take a

Discourses of justice and class  15 stand on issues about which the party-state has little to say or interpret its general pronouncements creatively. The labels are of limited use, too, in describing intellectuals who depart from the party line and push the boundaries of allowable dissent. In short, they do not accurately characterize the role that the intellectual elites play under those complex circumstances. Intimately related to the intellectuals’ relationships with other elites and major social classes is the question of autonomy and critical spirit. Although this is essentially an empirical question, much of the contention in the literature revolves around definitions and theories, some of which prejudge intellectual elites’ role in society. At one extreme stands the conception of the intellectual elite as associated with, and divided in its allegiance between, major social classes (Machajski 1905; Nomad 1932; Lasswell et al. 1952; Bottomore 1993), or as ‘a dominated fraction of the dominant class’ (Bourdieu 1990: 145). At the other extreme is the view that intellectuals are antagonistic to the political, economic, social or intellectual establishment (e.g. Bottomore 1967; Nettl 1969: 59; Brym 1980; Said 1994). A more moderate variant views intellectuals as a ‘socially unattached’ stratum which, subsuming in itself all those interests with which social life is permeated, acquires a relatively complete and objective view of their society and acts independently to promote more general social interests (Mannheim 1936: 136–46), or pursues knowledge for its own sake – at least in their subjective intentions, remaining above the politics of their day (Weber 1991: 129–56). In another variant, intellectuals are a more or less independent group standing between the bourgeoisie and proletariat (Mosca 1884: 293). Neither of these conceptions is readily applicable to Chinese intellectuals. Indeed, many of those who are classified as ‘intellectuals’ in China probably do not deserve the label at all if the notion of autonomy and critical spirit is intrinsic to the term, as is often the case, particularly in the moralist tradition of theorizing about intellectuals. Yet much of the research on China’s intellectual elites has been primarily concerned with intellectual autonomy and the critical spirit, or the lack of it. Quite often, these either form the normative basis of criticism or become focal variables of the status and identity of China’s intellectual elites. The prevailing view in the field is that in the Maoist era the intellectuals were ‘nationalized’ (guoyouhua) (Liu Zaifu 1991, 1999), coopted into the political establishment (tizhihua) (Hamrin and Cheek 1986; Ma 1998), ‘unintellectualized’ (fei zhishifenzihua) (Huang Ping 1995), or largely attached to political power even though the state–intellectual relationship remained complex (Goldman 1981, 1994). Studies of China’s intellectual elites between 1978 and 1989 continue to focus on questions of autonomy and critical spirit. Greater intellectual autonomy and sociopolitical criticism were widely believed to mark a fundamental change to the social role of intellectuals in this period. According to Ka-ho Mok (1998: ix–x), ‘the post-Mao intellectuals have thrown off the fetters of their predecessors and turned their back on the system of their repressive Communist regime.’ Having become more economically

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autonomous, he adds, this ‘sixth generation’ of intellectual elites is far more conscious of its independent role, is rethinking a new relationship with the state, has distanced itself from the establishment and is able to assert its professional autonomy, as well as exerting its influence over the sociopolitical arena and the sociocultural realm. Clearly, Mok’s ‘sixth generation’ refers in the main to political dissidents of the 1980s, such as Yan Jiaqi, Fang Lizhi, Liu Bingyan and Liu Xiaobo. There is no need to question here whether those dissidents were as autonomous as Mok claims; suffice it to note that they differ markedly from the intellectuals of the post-Tiananmen era, when intellectual autonomy and critical spirit appear to have weakened by comparison with the 1980s as a result of tighter political control. In fact, there is much criticism among dissidents that points to the intellectual elites’ reluctance to criticize the party-state and their cooperation or complicity with it. Liu Bingyan (27 April 2000), for instance, takes China’s intellectual elites to task for rarely criticizing the CCP leadership and pandering to it in order to improve their status and all that status can bring: trips abroad, honorary positions in the National People’s Congress (NPC), better jobs, better housing. Similarly, Liu Junning (1998: 65–9) asserts that Chinese intellectuals favour the tangible rewards of status and power over the right to free speech or political protest against the party-state, instead of pursuing knowledge for its own sake or criticizing the government. Although these critiques cannot be refuted entirely, they are no doubt onesided, making no mention of intellectuals who continue to criticize various aspects of the party-state’s value system and government policies or who do not pander to the establishment. More importantly, they seem to imply that there are no meaningful roles for intellectuals to play other than criticizing the party-state. Those who do not agree with the critiques typically draw attention to manifestations of intellectual autonomy or the expansion of the intellectual sphere, where intellectuals engage in a broad range of discourses (e.g. Gu and Goldman 2004; Ogden 2004). In other words, autonomy and the critical spirit have become a primary concern in the literature and are used as a focal variable for analysing the intellectuals’ role changes. This concern is well justified in so far as autonomy and sociopolitical criticism are usually considered, particularly in the moralist tradition, the most essential attributes of public intellectuals and the most telling indicators of the latter’s social position as well as their relationship with the governing elite. It has led to valuable insights into the major shifts in state–intellectuals relations. Still, the intellectual elites’ social role and their relationship with the partystate cannot be explained in terms of autonomy and critical spirit alone. There is a clear need to probe further into what roles intellectuals play other than as sociopolitical critics, what their expanded or reduced autonomy actually means, whether it translates into a different viewpoint on sociopolitical issues, and what difference it makes to their social role. Issue-centred analyses are useful for these reasons.

Discourses of justice and class  17

Discourses of social justice China’s political and intellectual elites are largely agreed that China has been undergoing rising social polarization since the late 1970s (Macroeconomic Research Group 2000; Jingji da cankao 18 July 2000; Sun 1994, 2003; Zhou 2005; Li Peilin et al. 2007; Zhu 2007). As of 2006, 0.4 per cent of households owned around 70 per cent of the wealth of the nation (Han Honggang 2009), and there were nearly 420,000 people whose personal wealth exceeded $US1 million, whereas the Chinese farmers’ average annual income was only 2,762 yuan (Li Peilin et al. 2007). In 2007, China’s Gini Coefficient rose to 0.496 (Xinhua 17 January 2007) from 0.22 in 1978 – well over the warning level of 0.4. It appears to have dropped since then but still remained as high as 4.8 as of May 2010 (Qu Zhehan 2010). Within three decades Chinese society has changed from one of the most egalitarian in the world to one of the least. The rising social polarization has attracted considerable attention from political and intellectual elites not least because of the enormous potential risk emanating from it. The sense of urgency is heightened in the light of the prevailing wisdom in Chinese society that vast gaps between the rich and poor almost inevitably lead to social instability and unrest. However, the intellectual elites have not approached the problem in exactly the same way as has the party-state, although intellectual discourses converge with government pronouncements and policies to a large extent. The convergence partially has to do with the fact that many intellectuals either toe the party line for one reason or another or actually see eye-to-eye with the party-state. At any rate, it casts doubt on arguments that highlight increasing intellectual autonomy in China and begs the question of whether or not more autonomy from the party-state necessarily means an understanding of, or approach to, social problems that differs significantly from the party-state’s. The divergence of intellectual discourses from party-state pronouncements contradicts criticisms of the intellectuals’ lack of autonomy or their readiness to ‘pander to the establishment’. Convergence and divergence can best be seen from the political and intellectual elites’ responses to three basic questions about inequality: What kind of inequality is to be focused on? Is inequality natural or unnatural? Is it a good or bad thing? When the naturalness of inequality is assumed, there is no need to investigate it further. If inequality is a good thing, it is logical to encourage it. But if it is unnatural or bad, how can it be explained and justified, and what should be done about it? What kind of inequality to focus on not only concerns the party-state and intellectuals but also citizens, since it determines goals and ways to reach them. A party-state perspective In party-state communications, inequality is predominantly unequal welfare and living standards, whereas civil and political inequality, as well as political

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causes of economic inequality, is rarely mentioned. The obvious reason for this is that any exposé of political forms and sources of inequality is most likely to draw public attention to these and direct discontents towards the political system and the party-state itself, and generate pressure for deeper political reform than the central leadership is ready to undertake. Focusing on unequal distribution of material rewards enables the CCP to distance itself from social inequality or conceal its role in creating or enlarging it, thus insulating itself from blame. However, the party encounters the dilemma that, on one hand, it sees it advantageous to allow and encourage unequal distribution in order to enhance productive efficiency and, on the other hand, it must ensure that social inequality is not perceived to be unjustified or unjust, and that the disadvantaged groups (ruoshi quanti) are compensated to some extent so that they do not take disruptive action out of desperation or discontent with the rich or the party-state. From the party-state’s viewpoint, economic equality is but an obstacle to productive efficiency and economic development. Hence, a top priority in the early days of ‘reform and opening’ was to reject egalitarian distribution of societal resources and allow incomes to be differentiated ‘according to work’ and some individuals, groups and regions to get rich ahead of others. Through a sleight of hand, the Maoist emphasis on equality was negatively labelled pingjun zhuyi (egalitarianism), which, according to Deng Xiaoping (1993), made it impossible to raise people’s living standards or motivate people to take the initiative and work hard, whereas income inequality became a good thing, as it would benefit individuals and the whole society. In the Jiang Zemin era, the principle of ‘distribution according to work’ gave way to ‘distribution according to contribution’, which is more vague and abstract, and therefore allows even more flexible interpretations. In consequence, all kinds of economic activities, some of which were not commonly seen as ‘work’, can be called ‘contribution’. Additionally, this principle makes even less reference to structured sociopolitical processes of production and exchange that the party-state has created, and in which it is heavily involved. All that matters is the outcome, even if unequal outcome is attributable to structured unequal opportunities. Either way – whether material rewards are differentiated according to work or contribution – inequality seems justified and just, while the responsibility for it appears to lie with individuals instead of the party-state. Under the leadership of Hu Jintao and Wen Jiabao, the government has shifted its social policy from encouraging inequality as a way of promoting productive efficiency to addressing social justice, emphasizing, in particular, access to public goods. Social justice, formerly an apparently academic concern among a handful of intellectuals, was inaugurated as a new policy orientation or ‘doctrine’ (Kelly forthcoming). Much of this new doctrine was outlined in a resolution passed at the Sixth Plenary Session of the Sixteenth Central Committee of the CCP in October 2006, which stressed:

Discourses of justice and class  19 the importance, guidelines, goals and principles of building a socialist harmonious society; coordinated development; social equity and justice; cultural harmony and the ideological and ethical foundations of social harmony; and the need to improve public administration to build a vigorous and orderly society. (Central Committee Resolution on Major Issues Regarding the Building of a Harmonious Socialist Society, 18 October 2006) Since then, calls to pay more attention to ‘social equity and justice’ have been added to a series of mission statements of the Hu-Wen leadership. These calls have moved from general statements of principle at summit meetings of the Communist Party to explicit goals of government policy as articulated in the outlines of the 11th Five-Year Plan (2006–10). Much has been done since then to reduce income taxes for rural residents and low wage earners, lessen the burden of disadvantaged groups, and improve social welfare, especially in the areas of health care, education, housing and age care. The 17th Party Congress in 2007 even spoke of shifting social equity and justice from the sphere of secondary to primary distribution, implying a need to bring more equality to wages and salaries. It has been widely reported in the Chinese media that the government is currently deliberating wage reforms. There is good reason to believe that the Hu-Wen leadership’s recent emphasis on social justice is geared more towards ‘preserving social stability’ than creating a just social order. After all, the government has spent as much on stability maintenance as on national security, and more than on justiceenhancing welfare programmes. In addition, a just social order cannot be achieved simply through addressing unequal distribution of material resources without tackling the political structures under which unequal distribution is produced and reproduced, as well as civil and political dimensions of inequality. Even economic inequality cannot be reduced by marginally increasing the wages of the lowest paid and improving social welfare for the disadvantaged. In practice, the best the government’s new social policy and welfare programmes can do is to make the life of the disadvantaged groups in society less unbearable. The government programme of dibao (minimum livelihood guarantee), in particular, was intended to ‘do nothing more than meet the most minimal requirements of the targeted needy’ so that its recipients ‘were to be kept alive but muted’ and not to disturb the forward march of the nation onwards toward progress (Solinger 2008: 21). Or, as Tang Jun (2004: 4) has put it, it is meant to ensure that the poorest in society have just enough funds to ‘keep body and soul together’, that they are ‘politically pacified’. Intellectual discourses The party-state’s approach to social inequality has been endorsed by no small number of intellectuals. In fact, Chinese intellectuals and the Hu-Wen

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leadership are essentially agreed on at least three critical questions about inequality: that unequal distribution of material rewards is largely a good thing as far as productive efficiency is concerned, that social stability depends on keeping inequality within acceptable limits, and that the disadvantaged groups in society should be taken care of and pacified (see, for example, Wang Dingding 2000; Wang Shitao 2000; Xu 2000). This overlapping consensus should not come as a surprise; after all, the dismantling of state socialism and the abandonment of ‘egalitarianism’ have been the objective and logical outcome of three decades of reform, which most intellectuals and particularly liberal writers endorse and support. Additionally, the rationale for unequal distribution incorporates a moral justification of economic inequality that has been commonplace since the advent of classical liberalism – that is, it is the best that get to the top of society and take the greater part of society’s rewards. That justification is premised on three assumptions. First, unequal rewards provide a structure of incentives that ensure that talented and resourceful individuals will work hard and innovate, thus contributing to the improvement of material standards for themselves and the society as a whole, while attempts at equalization will result in the stifling of initiative. Second, a broad consensus exists as to the legitimacy of their superior rewards, as such individuals are more important to economic development and the common good. And third, as some in society get rich, others benefit from the trickle-down effect. These assumptions have evidently informed China’s efficiency-enhancing reforms, particularly under Deng Xiaoping and Jiang Zemin, and to reject the assumptions is to call for the halt of reform or return to the egalitarianism of the Maoist era. That is not an attractive option in the eyes of China’s intellectual elites. In the Hu-Wen era, however, most intellectuals have urged the government to pay more attention to social justice and provide welfare to the disadvantaged groups. Their writings, together with escalating social polarization in society and the perceived dangers of this to social stability, has arguably contributed to the Hu-Wen leadership’s new policy of ‘taking social justice into account while giving top priority to efficiency’ (xiaolu youxian, jiangu gongping). One of the reasons for their success is, no doubt, the new emphasis on social harmony, which, like social stability, is impossible in the absence of a common sense of social justice in society. It is therefore not surprising that Chinese intellectuals tend to couple inequality with harmony and stability or argue for greater justice as a means to harmony and stability. In this respect, they differ little from the CCP leadership. Nevertheless, intellectual discourses of social justice have departed from the official position on the issue by refusing to take an instrumental approach to justice, as does the CCP leadership. There are also intellectuals who advance justice by taking advantage of the latter’s preoccupation with stability or criticize attempts to trample on citizens’ rights and social justice under the pretext of upholding stability. A typical view of the first group is that justice

Discourses of justice and class  21 is a prerequisite for stability, not the other way round (e.g. Yu Keping 2005; He Zhiqun 2006). One of the most articulate proponents of the second group is Sun Liping (2010), Professor of Sociology at Tsinghua University. He is emphatic that campaigns for stability maintenance have led to greater instability as citizens’ rights and interests as well as social justice are sacrificed in the name of stability. It is imperative, he adds, that citizens have equal opportunity in articulating their interests and exercising their rights, and that interest articulation is institutionalized. These arguments have already gone beyond questions of unequal distribution of material rewards to touch on civil and political inequality. This is another major difference between intellectual discourses and party-state communications. Numerous other intellectuals have pointed out that in China political structures and processes bear on all dimensions of social inequality as these create and sustain unequal rights, opportunities, rewards and privileges in all social domains (Gu 2004; He 2007; Wen and Li 2007; Zhu 2007; He 2010; Han 2010). Nothing else plays a bigger role in creating and sustaining inequality than the domination of the party-state, which not only generates economic or class inequality but power and status inequalities as well. The lack of checks and balances has led to rampant misuse or abuse of power by officials at all levels of government across the country and what the mass media in the country customarily refer to as the ‘exchange of money and power’ (quan qian jiaoyi). The misuse and abuse of power make it possible for state power to shape inequalities not just in the political domain, but also in the economic, social and cultural domains. The power-money exchange enables the political elites to gain all kinds of resources and opportunities, and the new rich to obtain political protection, clout and influence. Therefore, political power is central to the generation of all forms of social inequality. These arguments about political forms or sources of inequality are supported by the enormous body of literature on political corruption in China, and ample evidence of continuing returns to political capital and of the persistence of political power in the economic arena. It is not easy to demonstrate the extent to which such intellectual discourses have affected the government’s social policies or the ways in which impact has taken place, but it is possible to argue that they have played at least three critical roles. First, they have kick-started a debate in academia and in the broader public sphere on social justice ahead of the party-state leadership and helped generate pressure to put the issue on the government’s agenda and to make and implement inequality-reducing policies. Second, they have not only drawn attention to unequal distribution of material rewards but civil and political inequalities as well, thus contributing to deepening the debate on social justice and fuelling demands for equality-enhancing political reforms. In addition, the intellectual discourses have inserted significant input into the shifting societal meaning systems with regard to social justice. The importance of the last role lies in the fact that no persisting structures of inequality have existed in the absence of meaning systems that seek to

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explain and justify the unequal distribution of societal resources. As in other parts of the world, China’s political and intellectual discourses reinforce or challenge existing and emerging systems, or reinforce parts of the systems and challenge others. The elements of these discourses that are incorporated into the societal meaning systems are likely to affect popular perceptions of, and responses to, inequality. Furthermore, as these discourses accept and justify some forms of inequality but not others, they encourage or discourage certain forms of equality and inequality. Differently restated, political and intellectual discourses direct attention to some forms of inequality and away from others, normalize or justify some forms of it, and recommend ways of addressing the unaccepted forms. In so doing, they help shape government policies and the direction of sociopolitical change.

Discourses of social classes Closely related to discourses of justice is the debate on social classes, although the latter has followed a somewhat different trajectory. As in the case of the former, the intellectuals’ perspective on the issue overlaps with the party-state’s in some areas but differs in others. The convergence is most manifest in a general tendency to shy away from class, especially relational analysis with the potential to reveal social conflict, and in the gravitation of interest in the middle strata of society. The most notable division revolves around the use of key terms such as ‘class’ and ‘stratum’, and around whether a different class scheme has evolved from the destratified society before 1978, comprising two classes (workers and peasants) and one stratum (intellectuals). The CCP and class Although the CCP has gradually moved away from class in the reform era, it cannot abandon the concept; nor does it wish to highlight class actualities in society. For the class concept remains embedded in the constitutions of the party and the PRC as well as China’s national flag and national emblems. By definition, the CCP is the vanguard of the Chinese proletariat guided by Marxism, Leninism and Mao-Zedong-Thought, and the PRC is a socialist state under the people’s democratic dictatorship led by the proletariat and based on the alliance of the workers and peasants. Additionally, even though it announced in the 1950s that China had basically become a classless society, it reiterated from time to time that the class struggle would continue for a long time, as the remnants of the old exploiting classes would linger on under socialism. So long as social classes exist, class politics is likely to remain salient and class analysis will continue to be relevant. Why is it, then, that the party-state is downplaying class? For one thing, Marxian class analyses will identify an exploiting bourgeoisie and an exploited proletariat. That will put the CCP in an untenable position and throw doubt on the nature of the PRC’s political

Discourses of justice and class  23 system. For another, in the light of Marxian class theory, the relationship between these classes can only be antagonistic, leading inevitably to class struggle and suppression of the one by the other. Even though the CCP continues to pay lip service to Marxism, it has long abandoned class struggle and it stands to gain little from class antagonism or more public attention to antagonism. Indeed, the whole ‘reform and opening’ can be characterized as a shift away from class struggle and continuous revolution. Consequently, socialism and the CCP’s official identity as the vanguard of the proletariat have become meaningless, except as a reminder of the CCP’s ideological apostasy or as grounds for challenging the party. From the party’s perspective, it matters little whether the proletariat loses its status as the most progressive force of history. All the better that it no longer constitutes the mainstream of society, for the party’s new historical mission of wealth creation and the marketization of the economy requires efficient creators of wealth and consumers with ample purchasing power rather than a revolutionary working class. The mission entails a fundamental shift from a primary concern with the working class to the principal creators of wealth. Nevertheless, it remains important for the CCP to show that it has not betrayed its class base or abandoned its class-based ideology, which defines the identity of the CCP and constitutes its raison d’être. Hence, the ‘vanguard of the proletariat’ is redefined as a party that represents advanced productive forces, the whole nation and advanced culture. Once the advancement of productive forces becomes its overriding objective, the CCP is freed from the shackles of socialist relations of production, or the basic principles of Chinese socialism, as productive forces, or the ability to use tools to act upon nature, define individuals’ relations with nature instead of class relations and are therefore ideologically neutral. The CCP is also able to sever its ideological bond with the working class and allow non-socialist forms of ownership. In this milieu, the CCP has thrown open its doors to private entrepreneurs and businesspeople and, indeed, prioritized their interests. Intellectual elites and class From the standpoint of China’s public intellectuals who wish to criticize the CCP, it would make sense to target its ideological inconsistencies. An obvious option is class analysis using Marxist methodology and theories. Ironically, however, it is only numbers of the Old Left in China, such as Deng Liqun, who have done so. Their purpose is to question the direction of ‘reform and opening’ and capitalist elements of the ‘socialist market economy with Chinese characteristics’. By contrast, most Chinese intellectuals are indifferent to the Marxian concept of class and class analysis. Starting from the 1980s, many began to bid ‘farewell to revolution’ – specifically to the violent act of one class toppling another (Li and Liu 1995). The thrust of the slogan is the rejection of historical materialism, which posits a model of society in which individuals are divided into antagonistic classes on the basis of their

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relationship to the means of production. That slogan has now been translated it into specific ways of reconceptualizing social structure and analysing classes, which make it impossible to conceive of society as comprising warring classes and class struggle as the motor of history. Most importantly, the dismantling of state socialism and the emergence of a capitalist market economy is an objective and a logical outcome of three decades of reform, which most intellectuals and particularly liberal writers endorse and support. It is detrimental to ‘reform and opening’ if they highlight antagonistic classes or capitalist relations of production and remind the party-state of the existence of rampant exploitation in the country or criticize it for creating these. They have more reason to work with the reformers within the CCP and push the reform policies towards their preferred direction. Hence, both the intellectuals and the party-state see it as advantageous not to employ Marxian class analysis or highlight class antagonism and exploitation. This does not mean that Chinese intellectuals can or wish to abandon class altogether, not least because class as a social fact cannot be ignored. What many intellectuals typically do is to play with various terms when naming social groups, particularly ‘class’ ( jieji), ‘stratum’ ( jieceng) and ‘group’ (qunti); others replace class analysis with ‘stratum analysis’; and still others simply muddle through, using these terms interchangeably or combining them into new expressions, such as ‘class/stratum’, ‘class and stratum’, ‘class or stratum’, ‘class (stratum)’, ‘stratum (class)’, ‘class group’, and ‘income stratum group’. As a result, the waters are muddied to such an extent that it is often hard to tell the differences and authors can get away with something like ‘upper stratum (class)’, although ‘upper class’ may be frowned on by partystate officials. Instead of challenging the official two-class scheme, most intellectuals acknowledge that some portions of the population, such as businesspeople and entrepreneurs, no longer belong to the working class and have aggregated into new strata or groups, while maintaining that these transitional formations do not constitute classes per se or significantly change China’s two-class structure (Qing 2001: 25; Guo Zhenshu 2003: 37; Wu 2004; Shen 2003). This approach makes a virtue of being vague about the position of the separate groups and their future prospect. Another option, which has predominated in Chinese academia in recent years, is to discard the concept of class – except for the middle class – break up the two-class structure, and rearrange all identified social groupings into a new hierarchy of strata on the basis of income, occupation, education, consumption, and so on. This latter approach is described as ‘stratum analysis’ as opposed to Marxian class analysis, which is said to be a mere political instrument for identifying the motive force of the Chinese revolution and its enemies. However, there is a common view among Chinese intellectuals and media commentators that class analysis is indicative of adherence to Marxist and socialist principles, while stratum analysis amounts to rejection of these principles (Li Chunling 2005: 100–1). In that sense, ‘class’ and ‘stratum’ are not only hallmarks of

Discourses of justice and class  25 oppositional analytical paradigms but also a watershed between Marxism and the methodologies and ideologies critical of it. What sets ‘strata’ and ‘classes’ apart in this approach is that the former are predominantly gradational rather than relational. That is, a stratum is envisioned as a layer of a large structure, and its relationship with other strata is solely determined by the possession of differential amounts of social, economic and cultural capital, whereas the structural relationship to processes of production and exchange and other causes of differentiation are simply ignored. Thus, strata are divorced from the dynamics and actualities of class relations that are central to Marxist class analysis and class theory. The constructed structure might be one of inequality but not one of exploitation or domination. In other words, relations of conflict are bypassed in the construction while antagonism is defined out of ‘stratum’. Furthermore, as a stratum is devised on the basis of predominantly objective indexes, the issue of class consciousness and action, which is central to Marx’s work and that of many class theorists, is circumvented. In this process, the Marxist approach to class analysis is abandoned while the two-class structure is revised; and yet the society that emerges is acceptable to the CCP, as it does not reveal unequal and exploitative relations of production and exchange or social conflict. Overlapping consensus on the middle class(es) Ironically, as the intellectual elites reject Marxian class analysis, they are united with the party-state in circumventing class conflict and exploitation as well as economic and political structures responsible for the conflict and exploitation, regardless of their institutional affiliations or structural relationship to the partystate. The most notable exception to this is Leftists, such as Deng Liqun, who take a Marxian approach to class analysis. The emphasis on harmony, together with prevalent reluctance to deal with conflictual relations, has led to the gravitation of the intellectuals’ interest in the middle classes variously defined. The interest is not so much attributable to the emergence of a large, dominant middle class in the country as to a consensus among intellectual elites of various persuasions that the emergence of a large and strong middle class can only be a good thing, emblematic of China’s maturing economy and society. Liberal thinkers and democracy advocates, for instance, insist that the middle class, like civil society, is a driving force for liberalization and democratization (Chen Shujuan and Gong Ping 2005: 163; Chen Xiaoya 2002; He Li 2006; He et al. 2004; Huang 2003: 15; Ma 1998: 110; Sheng 2005). Economists and sociologists argue that a large middle class, with stable purchasing power, is indispensable to economic growth (Chen Dongdong 2004; Chen Xiaoya 2002; Tan Ying 2001; Wu Jinglian and Xiao Zhuoji, cited in Chen et al. 2004). China’s social scientists are emphatic that a stable society is an olive-shaped structure rather than a pyramid-shaped distribution and that the middle classes should be the mainstream of a modern society (Dong 2003: 19; Huang 2003: 15; Li Qiang 2001: 19–20; Lu Hanlong 2005; Lu et al. 2002;

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Qin Yan 2002; Su 2004: 20; Zhang Jinrong 2004: 81; Zhang et al. 2005: 3, Xiao 2001: 95). Party-state officials and official media, too, have contributed to the middleclass fetish despite their objection to the term. As early as 2001, the State Information Center added fuel to the fire by claiming that 200 million Chinese would enter the ‘middle stratum’ between 2001 and 2006 (Xinxi shibao 21 July 2001). In the same year, the forecast of Long Yongtu, then deputy trade minister, made the country buzz with excitement again. By his calculation, China’s ‘middle-income groups’ (zhongdeng shouru qunti) by 2010 would include 400 million people (Xinhua 1 December 2001). More recently, the Economic Research Institute of the State Development and Reform Commission has stated that there are about 100 million people in China who can be categorized as ‘the middle-class group’ (Xinhua 10 May 2007). Following the intellectual discourses, the official media now repeat the line that the optimal, modern social structure is olive-shaped rather than pyramidshaped. At its 16th National Conference in 2002, the CCP adopted a policy aimed at creating such a structure by ‘controlling the growth of the upper stratum of society, expanding the middle, and reducing the bottom’. This policy is consistent with the party’s recent emphasis on ‘harmonious society’ as well as a ‘xiaokang society’ (‘a prosperous society’). The latter model has been variously interpreted as harmonious xiaokang for the majority (dazhong xiaokang), middle-income xiaokang, or middle-class xiaokang, and so on. This new social blueprint has drawn much attention to the middle reaches of society and encourages analytical frameworks and statistical analyses that produce a larger middle section. Clearly, the phrase ‘middle class’ is mostly found in intellectual discourses but rarely in party-state communication, except for Xinhua (the New China News Agency) and the China Daily. For the CCP, the middle class remains a problematic concept and grouping. For one thing, ‘middle class’ in English versions of the works of Marx and Engels was sometimes translated into zichan jieji (bourgeoisie), causing much confusion about how the class was perceived by the communist pioneers (Liu 2006). For another, Mao equated the ‘wavering middle class’ with ‘national bourgeoisie’, and most of the social groups now included in the middle class would fall into the categories of ‘national bourgeoisie’ or ‘petit bourgeoisie’ in Mao’s classification (1991: 3). More importantly, if there is a middle class, the two-class scheme becomes untenable. For these reasons, the party-state’s Chinese language communications uniformly stick to ‘middle stratum’, ‘intermediate groups’, ‘middle-income stratum’, ‘middle-income groups’, and so on. Those intellectuals who speak of the ‘middle class’ have therefore departed significantly from the party line. Furthermore, their interest in this class is by no means confined to its classification or description; they are even more interested in the subjective attributes or qualities of the class – imagined or real. There are hundreds of articles in the PRC’s academic publications which expound the pivotal importance of the middle class. It is customarily claimed

Discourses of justice and class  27 that this class is educated, cultured, civilized, creditable, politically moderate, stable, pro-democratic, best equipped to bridge the rich and poor, transmit, clarify and endorse people’s demands, and so on. The list goes on, and even a selective list of references would be a few pages long. There is little denying that many of these attributes or qualities are not what the party-state prefer to have in society. Whether this middle class is the bearer of these qualities is an empirical question which cannot be answered with general comments about middle classes or through theoretical reasoning, and yet the articles are mostly long on quotation and short on empirical evidence. They cite theorists such as Aristotle, Barrington Moore, Huntington and others who link political stability and democratization to the presence of a large middle class, while the ‘middle class’ under discussion remains a phantom, as it either has no objective identity or there is no established link between the putative subjectivity of the so-called ‘middle class’ and any constructed schemes. In other words, the middle class is made as extrinsic values and characteristics are ascribed to objective social categories or projected onto imaginary groupings. But that has not prevented intellectuals from drawing the conclusion that the middle class should be expanded and regarded as role models. This is clearly not an advisable approach to class analysis; it is better described as prescription than description, as political advocacy than scholarship. Its purpose is not to give one some idea about the size, composition or intrinsic characteristics of the middle class but to promote this class, together with its presumably attractive qualities, or advocate these values by riding on the wave of the fetishized middle class. This, too, is probably not an agenda the party-state wishes to pursue.

Conclusion What conclusions, then, can be drawn from the preceding discussion about the intellectuals’ autonomy from the party-state and their relationship to it? Are they antagonistic to or aligned with the party-state? Do they criticize the establishment or pander to it? Are they a sociopolitically unattached stratum, subsuming in itself all those interests with which social life is permeated? Do they acquire a relatively complete and objective view of their society and act independently to promote more general social interests or pursue knowledge for its own sake, remaining above the politics of their day? What role do they play in the debate on social justice and social class? There is hardly any doubt that the intellectuals who have participated in the discourses of justice and class are not simply pursuing knowledge for its own sake, but articulating a point of view in the hope of influencing government policy or public perceptions. Their viewpoints are caught up in the sociopolitical context and contestation, which have added a complex political dimension to the conceptualization and explanation of justice and description of social groupings. Analytical descriptions are further entangled in webs of

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theories, paradigms and ideological positions, as well as advocacy of normative values and prescriptions for idealized social configurations. The discourses of justice and class, in particular, are tied to sociopolitical developments and reform agendas to which the intellectuals are devoted. Consequently, the intellectuals’ arguments are best seen as a result of a combination of the values, theories and paradigms they subscribe to and their calculus of cost and benefit to ‘reform and opening’. What autonomy they have from the party-state and their relationship to it does not inevitably determine their point of view. Nor do their viewpoints indicate accurately the extent of their autonomy or their relationship to the party-state. To be sure, the intellectual discourses often converge with the party line and government policies, but this is not always a result of the intellectuals pandering to the party-state. Once again, it is often related to common or similar reform agendas or solutions to the same sociopolitical problems in a context where only limited options are available or imaginable. The most likely responses from anybody to economic inequality, for example, may be acceptance, rejection or reduction. Most intellectuals concur with the partystate that it is acceptable in principle or even desirable because it benefits efficiency, which is one of the primary goals of ‘reform and opening’. Not even the most avowed critics of the CCP, including political dissidents, have demanded that the party eliminate economic inequality. Quite the contrary: their ideological position is that any attempts at reducing it will stifle initiative and lead to inefficiency and injustice. Similarly, not even the staunchest opponents of the CCP have pointed to class antagonism or exploitation, as though these did not exist in China. On the other hand, China’s intellectual elites also challenge the party line or push the boundaries. Those who call attention to civil and political inequality, and stress that social justice should take precedence over stability may not be criticizing the party-state, but their efforts are nonetheless meaningful and significant. Those who use the term ‘middle class’ irrespective of the CCP’s uneasiness about it and promote the middle class, together with the values the class symbolizes, are playing an equally meaningful and significant role in sociopolitical change. They are not simply promoting a new social configuration and a new progressive class to be embraced, emulated, nurtured and propagated, but also helping elevate this new role model to central stage in Chinese society. While there is little evidence of a dominant Chinese middle class, the dominance of the middle class in intellectual discourse and the mass media is well established. The ascendency of the class contrasts with the decline of the working class. This is an important sociopolitical development in so far as the success of a class in being elevated from a position of subordination to one of prominence or even dominance usually entails an overall reorganization of the society (Giddens 1977: 29). The fact that the partystate has increasingly stressed social justice and shifted this primary concern to the middle reaches of society is evidence of the impact of the intellectual discourses.

Discourses of justice and class  29 It must be stressed, however, that the intellectual elites’ impact on social policy and governance more broadly may vary to a large extent depending on the sociopolitical issues under discussion. This can be said about their relationship to the party-state as manifested in intellectual discourses on other issues as well. For example, if intellectuals must take a stand on the CCP’s monopoly of state power, the freedom of press or the Norwegian Nobel Committee’s award of the Nobel Peace Prize to Liu Xiaobo, what they say might differ a great deal from their responses to justice and class. Their options in this case will be more limited, and they are mostly likely to either speak for or against the party line, or refrain from speaking. By contrast, they have more freedom for speaking up on such issues as justice and class, where the boundaries of allowable dissent are far less clear or less strictly policed, and they therefore have more potential to influence government policy. On such issues, they do not have to choose between taking on the party-state as dissidents or critics and supporting the party line. Still, the best they can do is to shape policy making and policies made by the decision makers. In other words, they have an editorial rather than authorial role in this process.

Notes 1 2

A well-known exception is Peter Moody (1977), who identifies an oppositional relationship between the China’s intellectuals and the state. Social Development Research Group, Department of Sociology, Tsinghua University, ‘Weiwen xin silu: yi liyi biaoda zhiduhua shixian shehui de changzhijiuan’ (‘New thinking on weiwen: long-term social stability via institutionalised expression of interests’), Nanfang zhoumo, 14 April 2010, available at: www.infzm.com/content/ 43853 (accessed 28 November 2012).

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Discourses of justice and class  31 Kelly, David. 2013. ‘Between Social Justice and Social Order: Frameworks of Approaching Inequality’, in Wanning Sun and Yingjie Guo (eds), Unequal China: Political Economy and Cultural Politics. Abingdon, UK: Routledge. Lasswell, H.D, H.D. Lemer and C.E. Rothwell. 1952. The Comparative Study of Elites, Stanford, CA: Hoover Institution. Li Chunling. 2005. Duanlie yu suipian: dangdai Zhongguo shehui jieceng fenhua shili fenxi (Cleavage and Fragmentation: An Empirical Analysis of Social Stratification in Contemporary China), Beijing: Shehui kexue chubanshe. Li Peilin, Chen Guangjin and Li Wei. 2007. ‘2006 nian Zhongguo shehui hexie wending zhuangkuang diaocha baogao’ (‘A Report on Social Harmony in 2006’) in Ru Xin, Lu Xueyi, Li Peilin, Chen Guangjin, Li Wei and Xu Xixin (eds), 2007: Zhongguo shehui xingshi fenxi yu yuce (Analysis and Forecast on China’s Social Development) (Blue Book of China’s Society). Li Qiang. 2001. ‘“Guanyu zhongchan” jieji he zhongjian jieceng’ (‘“On the ‘Middle Class” and the Middle Stratum’), Zhongguo remin daxue xuebao (Academic Journal of the People’s University), 2: 17–20. Li Zehou and Liu Zaifu (eds). 1995. Gaobie geming: huiwang ershi shiji Zhongguo (Farewell to Revolution: Looking Back on Twentieth-Century China), Hong Kong: Tiandi tushu youxian gongsi. Liu Bingyan. 2004. ‘Criticizing Chinese Liberal Intellectuals’, seminar, Fairbank Center for East Asian Studies, Harvard University, 27 April 2000; cited by Ogden 2004. Liu Changjiang. 2006. ‘Zhongchan jieji yanjiu: yiwen yu tanyuan’ (‘Studies of the Middle Class: Questions and Origins’), Shehui (Society), 4: 43–56. Liu Junning. 1998. ‘Shichang jingji yu youxian zhengfu’ (‘The Market Economy and Limited Government’), in Xuewen Zhongguo (Studies on the Problems of China), Nanchang: Jiangxi chubanshe, pp. 65–9. Liu Zaifu. 1991. ‘Lishi juese de bianxing: Zhongguo zhishifenzi de ziwo mishi’ (‘Transformation of the Role of the Intellectuals: Chinese Intellectuals Have Lost Their Way’), Zhishifenzhi (Intellectuals), 7 (1). Liu Zaifu. 1999. ‘Zhishifenzi xinling guoyouhua de jienan’ (‘Nationalization of the Intellectuals’ Heart and Soul’), Mingbao yuekan, 10. Lu Hanlong. 2005. ‘“Zhongchan jieji” yu xiaokang shehui’ (‘“The Middle Class” and Xiaokang Society’), Shehui guancha (Social Observation), 1: 9–11. Lu Xueyi (ed.). 2002. Dangdai Zhongguo shehui jieceng yanjiu baogao (Research Report on the Social Stratification of Contemporary China), Beijing: Shehui kexue wenxian chubanshe. Ma Shu-yun. 1998. ‘Clientelism: Foreign Attention and Chinese Intellectual Autonomy’, Modern China, 21 (4): 445–71. Machajski, Waclaw. 1932. The Intellectual Worker, summarized in Max Nomad. 1905. Rebels and Renegades, New York: Macmillan. Mannheim, Karl. 1936. Ideology and Utopia, London: Kegan Paul. Mao Zedong. 1991. ‘Zhongguo shehui ge jieji de fenxi’ (‘An Analysis of the Social Classes of China’), Mao Zedong xuanji (Selected Works of Mao Zedong), vol. 1, Beijing: Renmin chubanshe. Marx, K. 1956. The Poverty of Philosophy, Moscow: Foreign Languages Publishing House. Mok, Ka-ho. 1998. Intellectuals and the State in Post-Mao China, New York: St Martin’s Press. Moody, Peter. 1997. Opposition and Dissent in Contemporary China, Stanford, CA: Hoover Institution.

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Mosca, Gaetano. 1884. Sulla Teorica dei governi e sul governo parlamentare: Studi storici e sociali, Turin: Loescher. Nettl, J.P. 1969. ‘Ideas, Intellectuals, and Structure of Dissent’, in P. Rieff (ed.), On Intellectuals: Theoretical Studies and Case Studies, Garden City, NY: Doubleday. Nomad, Max. 1932. Rebels and Renegades, New York: Macmillan. Ogden, Suzanne. 2004. ‘From Patronage to Profits: The Changing Relationship of Chinese Intellectuals with the Party-state’, in Gu and Goldman (eds), Chinese Intellectuals between State and Market, London and New York: RoutledgeCurzon. Qin Yan. 2002. Zhongguo zhongchan jieji: weilai shehui de zhuliu (The Chinese Middle Class: The Mainstream of the Future Society), Beijing: Zhongguo jihua chubanshe. Qing Lianbin. 2001. ‘Woguo shehui shifou you yige “zhongchan jieji?”’ (‘Is There a “Middle Class” in China?’), Zhongguo dangzheng ganbu luntan (Forum for Party and Government Cadres), 3: 24–6. Qu Zhehan. 1994. ‘Redian jujiao: shouru chaju weihe buduan kuoda’ (‘Hot focus: Why the Said, Edward’), Representations of the Intellectual, New York: Pantheon. Shen Shunjing. 2003. ‘Yunyong jieceng fenxi de fangfa renshi dangqian Zhongguo de shehui jiegou’ (‘Understanding China’s Current Social Structure through Stratum Analysis’), Xuexi luntan (Study Forum), 10: 93–4. Sheng Li. 2005. ‘Jini xishu, zhongchan jiejie yu minzhu fazhi’ (‘The GIBI Index, the Middle Class, Democracy and the Rule of Law’), Dangdai jingli ren (Contemporary Manager), 17: 174–5. Solinger, Dorothy. 2008. ‘The Dibao Recipients: Mollified Anti-Emblem of Urban Modernization’, occasional paper. Berkeley, CA: University of California. Solinger, Dorothy. 2013. ‘Temporality as Trope in Delineating Inequality: Progress for the Prosperous, Time Warp for the Poor’, in Wanning Sun and Yingjie Guo (eds), Unequal China: Political Economy and Cultural Politics. Abingdon, UK: Routledge. Su Xueqin. 2004. ‘Zhongguo shehui zhuanxing shiqi jieji he jieceng zhuangkuang fenxi’ (‘An Analysis of the Situation of Classes and Strata during China’s Transitional Period’), Qinghai minzu xueyuan xuebao (Journal of Qinghai Nationalities Institute), 30 (3): 17–20. Sun Liping. 1994. ‘Pingmin zhuyi yu Zhongguo gaige’ (‘Populism and China’s Reform’), Zhanlue yu guanli (Strategy and Management), 5 (October): 1–10. Sun Liping. 2010. ‘“Bu wending huanxiang” yu weiwen guaiquan’ (‘The “Spectre of Instability” and the Vicious Circle of Stability Maintenance’), Renmin luntan, 7 July, 2010, available at: http://paper.people.com.cn/rmlt/html/2010-07/01/content_570469. htm?div=-1 (accessed 15 October 2010). Tan Ying. 2001. ‘Dangdai Zhongguo zhongjian jieceng de jueqi jiqi shehui xiaoying’ (‘The Rise of the Middle Stratum and Its Social Effect’), Shehui (Society), 2: 11–13. Tang Jun. 2003–4. ‘Selections from Report on Poverty and Anti-Poverty in Urban China’, Chinese Sociology & Anthropology, Winter 2003–4/Spring 2004. Wang Dingding. 2000. ‘Ziyou: yiduan jiaota shidi de xushuo’ (‘Liberty: A Matter-ofFact Narrative’), in Li Shitao (ed.) Zhishi fenzi lichang (The Intellectuals’ Viewpoints). Beijing: Dangdai wenyi chubanshe. Wang Shicheng. 2000. ‘Mishi de zhudu wutuobang’ (‘Institutional Utopianism’), in Li Shitao (ed.) Zhishi fenzi lichang (The Intellectuals’ Viewpoints). Beijing: Dangdai wenyi chubanshe. Weber, Max. 1991. From Max Weber: Essays in Sociology, trans. H.H. Gerth and C.W. Mills. London: Routledge. Wu Zhongmin. 2004. ‘Cong jieji fenxi dao dangdxai shehui fencing yanjiu’ (‘From Class Analysis to Stratum Analysis’), Xueshu jie (Academics in China), 1: 64–88.

Discourses of justice and class  33 Xiao Wentao. 2001. ‘Zhongguo zhongjian jieceng de xianzhuang he weilai fazhan’ (‘The Current State of the Chinese Middle Stratum and its Future Development’), Shehuixue yanjiu (Sociological Research), 3: 93–8. Xinhua. 2001. ‘Long Yongtu: Zhongguo jiang chengwei 21 shiji shijie zuida shichang’ (‘Long Yongtu: China will be the World’s Biggest Market in the 21st Century’), 1 December, available at: www.china.com.cn/chinese/kuaixun/81814.htm. Xu Youyu. 2000. ‘Zhiyou zhuyi yu dangdai Zhongguo’ (‘Liberalism and Contemporary China’), in Li Shitao (ed.), Zhishi fenzi lichang (The Intellectuals’ Viewpoints), Beijing: Dangdai wenyi chubanshe. Yu Keping. 2005. ‘Shehui gongping he shanzhi: jianshe hexie shehui de jishi’ (‘Social Justice and Good Governance: The Foundation of Harmonious Society’), Guangming ribao (Guangming Daily), 22 March. Zhang Jinrong. 2004. ‘Peiyang zhongjian jieceng, jianshe xiaokang shehui’ (‘Nurture the Middle Stratum and Build a Xiaokang Society’), Zhanlue yu guanli (Strategy and Management), 3: 80–3. Zhang Wanli et al. 2005. ‘Yingyun er sheng de Zhongguo “xin zhongjian jieceng”’ (‘The Emergence of China’s “New Middle Stratum”’), Shehui guancha (Social Observation), 1: 3–5. Zhou Xiaohong. 2005. Zhongguo zhongchan jiejie diaocha (A Survey of China’s Middle Class), Beijing: Shehui kexue chubanshe; e-book available at http://book.sina.com.cn. Zhu Qingfang. 2007. ‘Jingji shehui hexie fazhan zhibiao tixi zonghe pingjia’ (‘An Integrated Evaluation of the Indexes of Harmonious Socio-economic Development’), in Ru Xin, Lu Xueyi, Li Peilin, Chen Guangjin, Li Wei and Xu Xixin (eds), 2007: Zhongguo shehui xingshi fenxi yu yuce (Analysis and Forecast on China’s Social Development) (Blue Book of China’s Society).

3

The role of intellectual elites in China’s political reform The discourse of governance Yingjie Guo

Almost in parallel with the discourses on social justice and social classes, the discourse of governance in the People’s Republic of China (PRC) emerged in the early 1990s. It has gathered momentum in the last decade, generated a great deal of academic interest in the subject, and begun to affect the conceptualization of statecraft, rulership, government, political control and politics among social commentators and party-state officials. In large part the emergence, development and impact of the discourse are attributable to the efforts of China’s intellectual elites who have introduced an essentially foreign idea to China and brought it to bear upon political reform in the country. The discourse on governance is an even more powerful example than the one on social justice and classes in illustrating the critical role of China’s intellectual elites as knowledge producers, opinion makers, agents of globalization and a driving force for domestic change in the PRC. It must be pointed out at the outset, however, that not all intellectual elites in the PRC have warmed to the discourse or ideas of governance and good governance. In fact, Chinese academia is polarized between those who advocate these concepts and those who refuse to mention them. These two loosely associated groups or coalitions are certainly related differently to the partystate, as some in the former group are advisers to the Chinese leadership (guanfang zhinang) or occupy management positions in their work units, whereas the liberal writers are mostly alienated from it. Nevertheless, their relationships with the party-state and their contrasting prescriptions for political reform appear to have less to do with their institutional affiliations or employment – since the majority of each group are employees of public universities or research institutes – than with their respective ideological orientations and discursive strategies. The proponents of good governance are reformers by and large in that they work with the party-state and seek incremental or reformative change to it, representing good governance as a non-threatening and feasible alternative to the party-state’s marked course of reform. The liberal writers, in contrast, work against the party-state and demand systemic, transformative change in the hope of replacing China’s one-party rule with liberal democracy. It is as though they look upon reforms geared toward good governance as nothing but

Elites in China’s political reform  35 ‘self-perfecting’ measures that are designed to strengthen the CCP’s one-party rule and give it a new lease of life. The contrasting prescriptions of the reformers and transformers predetermine the roles they can play in the PRC’s political reform and make considerable difference to the effects of their prescriptions as well. What proves crucial in this connection is the extent to which their alternatives look acceptable, permissible or tolerable to the CCP. The reformers are playing a much bigger role than the transformers for the simple reason that their idea of good governance, due to its affinity and compatibility with the party’s reform programme, appears more attractive to it than the liberal democracy that the transformers demand. Still, the latter’s democratic ideals cannot be dismissed easily given their universal appeal and the CCP’s endorsement of some of the ideals, spurious or not. Consequently, the discourse of governance in the PRC has been played out primarily among the reformers, transformers and party-state officials. In effect, the reformers and transformers appear to have created a centripetal circle of influence around the party-state and helped induce a paradigm shift in conceptualization and normative prescription from government to governance and from good government to good governance. The intellectual elites’ role in the paradigm shift and in China’s political reform more generally will be the subject of this chapter, and their role will be examined in the context of their discursive interaction with the party-state and the transformers.

Importing ‘governance’ and ‘good governance’ to China There can be no doubt about the Western origin of governance and good governance as currently understood in the social sciences or the indispensable role of China’s intellectual elites in bringing these concepts to China (Bai Dehua 2010). Particularly significant to the emergence of the governance discourse in the PRC is the first contemporary public appearance of the notion of governance in a 1989 World Bank report, Sub-Saharan Africa: From Crisis to Sustainable Growth, which has done much to stimulate the intense focus on the subject in China as well as elsewhere (Yu Keping 2001: 40; Luo and Song 2006: 3; Yu Jun and Li Zhuzhu 2008: 68; He Shuangmei 2009: 69; Wang and Niu 2009: 102; Hyden 1992; Leftwich 1993; Williams and Young 1994). The governance literature snowballed with the publication of more reports and documents of international organizations,1 which were either translated into Chinese or cited by increasingly more Chinese writers, thus thrusting the concept of governance to the forefront of politico-intellectual debates in the PRC (Bai Dehua 2010). However, it was about a decade before the ideas of governance and good governance became the latest flavour of the month in the PRC. This suggests that the emergent hegemony of the global discourse of governance alone was not enough to create a large amount of interest in the subject in the country or get the ideas globalized; effective advocacy and a susceptible domestic

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environment were necessary conditions as well. Both of these became available as a result of the Chinese government’s hyped bid to join the World Trade Organization (WTO), which led to greater political relaxation and a series of economic and political reforms aimed at fulfilling China’s WTO commitments. It is safe to assert that the notion of good governance is an ideological cornerstone of the organization, as it is of the World Bank and numerous other international organizations, and consistent with its core principles such as the rule of law, uniform application of administrative rules, non-discrimination, transparency and public participation in decision-making. As Table 3.1 shows, the number of journal articles on the subjects of ‘good government’ (shanzheng) and ‘good governance’ (shanzhi) increased only gradually and fluctuated before 2000, when China’s WTO bid went into top gear, and it was not until after the year 2000 that the increases became steady and more remarkable, such as the number of publications on ‘governance’ (zhili) throughout the decade. At the same time, many Chinese authors continued using traditional terms such as ‘rulership’ (tongzhi) and ‘benevolent government’ (renzheng) and writing about these topics, despite growing uneasiness about these terms among intellectual elites. The point to make from this is not that the new concepts have replaced the traditional ones, but that the former were used and treated in more articles than the latter. Admittedly, the accuracy of the data in CNKI collected in Table 3.1 is questionable, not least because there is no explanation as to how the subjects in the database are determined. The only way to know the actual usage and treatment of the new and traditional concepts would be a detailed content analysis of the articles. Still, the data can at least give one a rough idea about a general trend in the evolution of the governance discourse among China’s intellectual elites between 2000 and 2010. What is not shown in the table is perhaps even more noteworthy. That is the transformation of the meaning of zhili and shanzhi. While neither of these is a new word in contemporary Chinese, they commonly referred to public management or public administration and good management before the 1990s, and have continued to mean those things in the writings of many authors since the 1990s. But increasing numbers of Chinese writers now use zhili and shanzhi in much the same sense as ‘governance’ and ‘good governance’ as is commonly understood in the social sciences in the English-speaking world. The growing popularity of that use of zhili and shanzhi in the PRC does not simply mean the adoption of new definitions or conceptual tools for scholarly analysis but a paradigm shift in the conceptualization of governing and in normative benchmarks for governing practices. In other words, what is at stake in China’s governance discourse is the nature, function and scope of government and state as well as state–society relations. The ideas that gradually assume hegemony through the discourse are bound to have some impact on the content and direction of China’s political reform. They are also liable to give their proponents significant advantages over their competitors in terms of academic profile, impact index, political influence on the party-state, and

Elites in China’s political reform  37 Table 3.1 Number of articles published between 1990 and 2000 Subject

1990

1995

2000

2005

2010

Tongzhi – rulership

2,145

2,713

2,369

3,574

5,250

Zhili – governance

8,219

7,117

12,069

19,397

31,130

Renzheng – benevolent government

146

301

192

345

506

Shanzheng – good government

108

206

161

372

648

Shanzhi – good governance

233

439

307

567

1,033

Source: China Academic Journals (CNKI), the biggest journal database in Chinese in the PRC. The returns were results of fuzzy subject searches. The years were chosen to identify general trends instead of presenting statistics of articles published every year.

impact on political change in China. Such advantages are no doubt strong incentives for the reformers who have introduced and advocated the concepts of governance and good governance. The most prominent reformers include Yu Keping, Wang Yukai, Mao Shoulong, He Zengke, Zhang Xin, Luo Haocai and Song Degong. Particularly noteworthy is Yu, Deputy Director of the CCP’s Central Bureau of Translation and Compilation, and Director of the Bureau’s Center for Research on Comparative Politics and Economics, who has done more than anybody else in Chinese academia to call attention to governance and good governance. He was the first to write extensively about the subject and to promote the concepts at public forums, and his publications have by far the highest impact index, judging by citations. His edited volume, Zhili yu shanzhi (Governance and Good Governance, 2000) is the first book in Chinese on the subject and it is customarily cited by other authors. Together with his seminal essays and speeches, the book has inspired large numbers of scholars, commentators and officials, thanks to their wide circulation and easy availability on the Internet. In June 2001, the first large national conference on ‘Governance Theory and China’s Administrative Reform’ was held in Beijing, co-sponsored by the Chinese Association of Public Administration, the Beijing of Public Administration and the Beijing Institute of Public Administration, and attended by scholars from over a dozen public research institutions and universities, including the Chinese Academy of Social Sciences, Peking University, Tsinghua University and the People’s University. By contrast, the transformers have been uncharacteristically silent on the concepts of governance and good governance. Searches on personal websites and author, subject and keyword searches in the largest databases of academic journals and newspapers in Chinese – China Academic Journals (CNKI) and

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China Core Newspapers – returned no publications related to the subject by China’s leading transformers, such as Cui Weiping, Liu Junning, Qin Hui, Wu Jiaxiang, Xiao Gongqin, Xu Youyu and Zhu Xueqin. Clearly, they are not amenable to these concepts even though these contain liberal and democratic elements that they normally embrace, such as a minimal state, legitimacy, transparency, accountability, rule of law and responsiveness. That is understandable given that such elements appear in a political reform package which might benefit the party-state – a possible outcome the transformers do not wish to see. But it is harder to understand why they refuse to critique what they reject. Perhaps they would rather not dignify it with any reference or have anything to do with a discourse with the potential to distract from or compromise their demand for liberal democracy. Nor do they see it as advantageous to add fuel to the flames through critiques and exchange of words with their opponents. Consequently, they have excluded themselves from the discourse and deprived themselves of a critical role to play in it. The transformers’ refusal to engage in the governance discourse and throw their weight behind the reformers makes it impossible to build a broader consensus among China’s intellectual elites than has emerged. Their division can only weaken the intellectual and political drive towards good governance in China. Yet, the reformers and transformers have more in common with each other than they are prepared to admit, while their disagreement seems to have been blown out of proportion as a result of misunderstanding or bad faith, and turns out to be more about political polemics and discursive strategies than about fundamental principles or empirical substance, as will be elaborated later. All the same, they are mutually supportive as a matter of fact, since the discourse of liberal democracy and discourse of governance overlap with and give each other ideological-theoretical and moral support. As well as that support from the transformers, the reformers derive strengths from the global discourse of governance. They do this by portraying the governance literature of international organizations and Western academia as the best sources of cutting-edge (qianyan) knowledge about governance and as evidence that governance and good governance were becoming a global consensus and an inevitable or irreversible trend, as well as modern and internationally accepted ways of governing. For these and other reasons, the transformers argue, Chinese academia and the government should accept the global consensus and follow the global trend. In the words of an editor in his introduction to a cluster of articles by Yu Keping, Mao Shoulong and others:2 As the world enters an era of fundamental change characterized by globalization and uncertainty, every developed and developing nation is looking for a new form of governing that is better suited to the social environment, so that they will be able to gain advantages in global economic competition and to ensure sustained economic growth. Governance theory is becoming the dominant discourse in response to the dramatic

Elites in China’s political reform  39 Table 3.2 Number of articles published from 2000 to 2011 Subject Renzheng – benevolent government

2000 2001 2002 2003 2004 2005 2006 2007 2008 2009 2010 2011 7

6

10

17

21

29

78

103 140 308 378 312

Shanzheng – 19 good government

13

16

27

38

26

76

91 141 231 319 314

Shanzhi – 13 good governance

18

17

25

33

28

83

82 140 284 319 317

Source: China Core Newspapers, the biggest newspaper database in Chinese in the PRC. The database does not include pre-2000 data. The 2011 collection is up to August 31.

change around the world. . . . It has transformed the mainstream theories of government (tongzhi) and is widely accepted around the world by politicians, scholars, government officials, and businesspeople. . . . Governance theory is extremely beneficial to the reconstruction of China’s democratic political system, the establishment of the institutional foundations of good governance, the reform of decision-making processes and the improvement of efficiency in public management during China’s marketisation. Debatable as these glowing characterizations of the concepts and theories of governance and good governance may be, they appeal to those who are keen to keep up with the latest trends in Western academia and cannot be easily questioned by anybody who is unable to access or is unfamiliar with the foreign-language literature. The characterizations also appeal to reformers within the CCP who urge China to ‘join the international community’ (zou xiang shijie) or ‘connect with the rest of the world’ (yu shijie jiegui). It is not uncommon for these reformers, as well as pro-reform intellectuals and commentators, to see the adoption of globally accepted terms and ideas as a manifestation of China’s modernization and globalization. This is certainly true with politically safe terms such as governance and good governance. More importantly, the party-state has not banned or censured the use of terms such as ‘benevolent government’, ‘good government’ and ‘good governance’, as can be seen from Table 3.2. Although these words are not found in the speeches of top CCP leaders or official communications and remain unofficial terminology to this day, they appear in the party’s mouthpieces at the central and local levels, which make up the majority of the ‘core newspapers’ in the database. These include official newspapers such as The People’s Daily, The Global Times, Guangming Daily, Beijing Daily, Liberation Daily and Wenhui Daily, to name some of the most well known, while the collected data include speeches by provincial leaders, party school theoreticians, representatives to

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the People’s Congress, and a range of low- and middle-ranking officials (e.g. Wang Jianhua et al. 2010; Li Ke 2010; Su Quan 2011). Given the fact that words such as ‘benevolent government’, ‘good government’ and ‘good governance’ were rarely seen in official documents in the past and remain unofficial terminology today, it is reasonable to attribute the emergence of these terms in the official media to the influence of intellectual elites who introduced the terms. Additionally, the contrast in the number of relevant articles published in academic journals and the ‘core newspapers’, the majority of which are affiliated to or controlled by party-state organizations, gives one more reason to take the academic articles to be the source of influence than the other way round. The unofficial terminology would not have been able to penetrate official media and appear in officials’ speeches had the top CCP leadership advised against it.

More zhili (governance), less tongzhi (government) The most striking feature of the discourse of governance in the PRC is the overwhelming consensus on concepts and theories of governance. With rare exceptions, the frontier is drawn between zhili (governance) and tongzhi (government, ruling or rulership). Equally striking is the prevalent premise, explicitly articulated or implied by the reformers, that governance is preferable to government; good governance is more desirable than good government, although the former is believed to be contingent upon the latter; and good government is better than benevolent government. The inevitable conclusion to ensue from the premise is therefore that China needs less government and more governance in terms of both theorization and practice, and that the focus of political reform ought to shift towards the latter. It is noteworthy, however, that these terms do not mean exactly the same things to the reformers and the party, that there is often a gap between the party’s rhetoric and conviction and between its words and actions. A result of different conceptions of the same features is that key concepts become floating signifiers that must be fixed in order for them to make sense and to be applicable. This enables the reformers to creatively interpret the concepts, distort them to some extent, extend them beyond established boundaries or add new content, all the while being protected from political censure by the fluidity and seeming acceptability of the floating signifiers. Similarly, the reformers skilfully capitalize on the gap by taking the CCP’s rhetoric for its conviction and by urging the party to put its words into practice. Much confusion arises from the use of the English word ‘government’ in the Chinese-language literature. It is translated into zhengfu and tongzhi, although in the Chinese word shanzheng, which can be understood as good governing or a good government, that distinction is often lost. Pitted against government in the sense of tongzhi, governance has been defined as ‘the exercise of authority within a bounded field for the purpose of maintaining order, advancing public interests’, ‘satisfying the needs of the public’

Elites in China’s political reform  41 (Yu Keping 2001a: 41, 2001c: 15), or ‘maximizing the interests of society as a whole’ (Luo and Song 2006: 8). Accordingly, ‘good governance’ refers to ‘a process of public administration that maximises public interests’ (Yu Keping, 2001a: 42, 2001b: 37, 2001c: 15). These definitions, or variants of these, are widely accepted by other reformers (e.g. Mao Shoulong 2001: 44; He Zengke 2002: 16; Yu Jun and Li Zhuzhu 2008: 68; He Shuangmei 2009: 69; Wang and Niu 2009: 102; Wang and Qu 2011: 24; Liu Jie 2011: 80; Liu and Li 2005: 36; Liang Ying 2003: 50; Su Quan 2011: 1). These contrast with the World Bank’s notions of governance and good governance. In its 1989 report, governance is defined as ‘the excise of political power to mange a nation’s affairs’ and good governance includes six features: an efficient public service; an independent judicial system and legal framework to enforce contracts; the accountable administration of public funds; an independent public auditor, responsible to a representative legislature; respect for the law and human rights at all levels of governments; a pluralistic institutional structure, and a free press. Evidently, the Chinese reformers have dropped the word ‘nation’ and foregrounded public needs and interests in their definitions. In doing so, they highlight the plurality of a nation’s affairs and therefore the need for multiple governing bodies and for government as a service-provider; they also avoid controversial issues such as an independent judiciary, human rights and a free press, which, if incorporated, will overstep the boundaries of permissible dissent. What makes government bad in the eyes of the reformers is that this mode of governing posits a government or state (usually used interchangeably in the Chinese-language literature) as the sole governing body or collective ruler that manages public affairs alone through state institutions, including stateowned enterprises (Luo and Song 2005: 4). The state’s monopoly of political power has several undesirable consequences. First, the state becomes autonomous, unaccountable and unable to constrain its own power or monitor the behaviour of state officials, while political power, including indoctrination and coercion, is employed principally to secure compliance and obedience from the citizenry. Second, state monopoly results in a large, complex, hierarchical and unwieldy state apparatus, and a state of affairs where unconditional obedience is required from lower levels of jurisdiction to the upper levels. Third, social organizations are excluded from the management of public affairs and the exercise of state power. The result is a closed, state-dominant management model. Finally, the state’s management of public affairs leads to gross inefficiency and man-made catastrophes, for under the doctrine of ‘politics in command’ it is subjected to politico-ideological imperatives rather than guided by scientific rationality. The superiority of governance to government in the reformers’ view is, above all, a different locus of authority (Yu Keping 2001a; Luo and Song 2006; Song Bo 2006; Mao Shoulong 2001; He Zengke 2002; Yu Jun and Li Zhuzhu 2008; He Shuangmei 2009; Wang and Niu 2009; Wang and Qu 2011; Liu Jie 2011; Liu and Li 2005; Liang Ying 2003; Su Quan 2011). That is to say,

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although the former requires the authority to govern, it does not require that the authority be monopolized by governments, as the notion of government is said to posit. In fact, the reformers insist that authority can be, and often is, vested in non-public institutions or non-governmental organizations. Stated differently, the state or government is not, and should not be, the sole governing body or bearer of political power within the nation-state. This conception of authority is justified with a couple of propositions which seem to be inspired by the governance literature of international organizations, especially the report of the Commission on Global Governance (1995),3 and has transformative implications. First, under contemporary conditions in China, it is not always clear who is responsible for solving a broad range of social and economic problems, and the government has passed on some of its past responsibilities to civil society. Second, a large measure of interdependence and interaction exists among the public institutions involved in the same collective action. Thus, the institutions must exchange knowledge and resources, negotiate and build consensus, which necessitates the making of rules and the creation of a congenial environment for such exchange and negotiation. The network that ensures is a largely self-organizing socio-cybernetic system which takes over the authority that the state used to have over these activities, and governance, to borrow Kooiman’s terminology (1993: 4), is consequently construed to be the total effects of ‘sociopolitical-administrative interventions and interactions’. It follows that the modes and techniques of governing must be suited to the needs of the multiple actors that make up the network and facilitate the exchange, negotiation and consensus-building; governmental commands will not do. Given this conception of governance and government, it should come as no surprise that the reformers are more interested in good governance than good government and benevolent government. Not even the adjectives alleviate their uneasiness about the latter two terms; quite the contrary: the terms conjure up images of paternalistic and dictatorial regimes and enlightened despots in imperial China who were prepared at times to take care of their subjects and refrain from enforcing draconian laws, imposing heavy taxes or indulging in selfish pursuits at their subjects’ cost. The terms are also too closely associated with Confucian political thought, which is of little appeal to most contemporary Chinese intellectuals because of its checked record and, despite recent efforts to revive Confucianism, the stigma it gathered from the prevailing anti-traditionalism during the greater part of the twentieth century. In addition, the notion of monopolized and top-down power is embedded in the Confucian theory of benevolent government. As the reformers move away from concepts of good government and benevolent government, they are at the same time distancing themselves from Confucian political thought. Nonetheless, they recognize that good or benevolent government is better than bad government and that there can be good governance without good government. As Yu Keping (2007: 1) put it more explicitly than anybody else:

Elites in China’s political reform  43 With the development of societies and political progress, humanity will continue to move from government to governance and from good government to good governance. But at the present stage of political development and in the foreseeable future, the state and government remain and will continue to be the most important carriers of political power. . . . Governments are still the locomotives that pull societies forward while government officials are the drivers . . . In a word, good government is the key to good governance; therefore the former must be established before the latter can be realised. The reasoning here clearly proceeds ‘from government to governance and from good government to good governance’, but it is not made clear what the perceived move actually means. While it seems to be construed as the transformation of one mode of governing into another, a good government is also considered a prerequisite for the establishment of good governance. In contrast to the reformers’ ambivalence about good government, their acceptance of good governance is unreserved. This is obviously related to their preference of government to governance and the absence of obvious semantic linkage or association between good governance and traditional notions or practices of benevolent rule. Moreover, the reformers have packed a broad range of attractive ideas and values into the concept of good governance, so that it is difficult for their potential detractors inside and outside the CCP to disapprove of it or dismiss it out of hand. Specifically, six components of features make good governance good, including legitimacy, transparency, accountability, rule of law and responsiveness (Yu Keping 2001a: 42-43; Liu Jie 2011: 81; Luo and Song 2006: 4–5). Sometimes stability, public participation, incorruptibility and social justice are added to this list (Yu Keping 2001c: 15, 2006: 16–17; He Zengke 2002: 16; Song Bo 2006: 33; Mao Shoulong 2001: 44; Yu Jun and Li Zhuzhu 2008: 68; He Shuangmei 2009: 69; Wang and Niu 2009: 102; Wang and Qu 2011: 24; Liu Jie 2011: 80; Liu and Li 2005: 36; Liang Ying 2003: 50; Su Quan 2011: 1). Thus defined and conceptualized, governance and good governance can be divided into three strands: systemic, political and administrative (Leftwich 1993: 611). The systematic use covers the distribution of political and economic power. Governance and good governance in this sense involve authoritysharing or distributed authority (instead of goal-directed interventions from the party-state), consultation, and cooperation between political society and civil society, between governmental and non-governmental organizations (NGOs), and between public and private institutions. It enables political authority to go bottom-up or sideways rather than top-down in the main as in the government paradigm. The political use refers to a state enjoying both legitimacy and authority, derived from a democratic mandate. The administrative use highlights the importance of an accountable, effective, open and responsive public service.

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Although these notions of governance do not entirely converge with the Chinese party-state’s marked course of political reform, it does not depart from it drastically either. As a matter of fact, the prevailing wisdom in the Chineselanguage literature views China’s economic, social and political reform since 1978 as a gradual transition from ‘government’ to ‘governance’ and ‘good governance’. Bai Dehua (2010: 30–1) notes, for instance, that the dominant mode of governing in the PRC was ‘government’ between 1949 and 1978, ‘governance’ from 1978 to 2002, and ‘transition from good government to good governance’ in the post-2002 era. This is evidenced by the emergence and growth of non-governmental organizations and civil society; the division of power between the state, market and civil society; and increasing emphasis on ‘harmonious society’ and the ‘people first’ principle. In a similar vein, Yu Keping (2009), Mao Shoulong (2007), He Shuangmei (2009) and other reformers suggest that the move from ‘government’ to ‘governance’ is not just a normative prescription but also a factual description of the pattern of China’s political reform in the last three decades, as manifested, in particular, by the pluralization and devolution of political authority, the transition of rule by man to rule of law, and the shift from political control to service provision. The general trends of political reform in the reformers’ description are hardly disputable even though aspects of the description can be questioned. The current CCP leadership, in particular, would have little difficulty accepting in principle the reformers’ key components of ‘good governance’, such as legitimacy, transparency, accountability, rule of law, responsiveness, stability, public participation, incorruptibility and social justice. Most of the components are actually the stated objectives of party-state policies since the CCP’s 15th National Congress in 1997. For example, the administrative approval reforms between 2000 and 2006, which led to dramatic decreases in the number of approvals administered by government various levels, further reduced state control over the economy. The government report presented to the National Congress in 2003 shifted the focus of government toward adjusting and monitoring the market, social management and public service delivery. This shift was the beginning of the end of the state as a direct market player. The notion of social management, too, downplayed state control and legitimated self-organization by professional groups and social organizations. Taken together, the features of good governance add up to a comprehensive statement of the minimum institutional, legal and political conditions of democracy.

Good governance vs democracy The construction of governance in the PRC involves questions of democracy for two main reasons. One is the source of its ideological-theoretical inspiration, particularly the governance literature of the World Bank; the other is the definitive features of governance and good governance. In fact, the idea of liberal democracy is built into the Bank’s conceptions, while the thrust of the construction of governance is institutional and social transformation geared

Elites in China’s political reform  45 toward establishing a minimal state subject to the rule of law which protects individuals’ economic and political freedom, and a liberal public sphere or civil society complete with socio-cybernetic systems and self-organizing networks. There is no denying that these four factors – a minimal state, the protection of liberty, the rule of law and civil society – are the most essential features of liberal democracy. Western writers have pointed to the liberal underpinnings of governance and good governance, whereas few Chinese authors highlight the association with liberalism not least because the latter is more likely to be a liability than an asset in the PRC’s political context. A commonplace view in the English-language literature holds that good governance marries the new public management to the advocacy of liberal democracy, that good governance means a democratic capitalist regime, presided over by a minimal state and that the World Bank constructs governance from liberal theory (Rhodes 1996: 656; Leftwich 1993: 611; Williams and Young 1994: 92). Indeed, the Bank’s report on sub-Saharan Africa (1989: 60–1) takes political legitimacy and consensus to be a precondition for sustainable development, while legitimacy and consensus can best be achieved through effective parliamentary democracy. The Bank’s focus on liberal democracy was partly the result of the influence of academic trends in Western societies and the liberal-minded academics with whom the Bank consulted (Williams and Young 1994: 91). It also had much to do with the resurgence of neoliberalism in the West, the collapse of the official communist regimes and the rise of pro-democracy movements in the world, and the Bank’s experience with structural adjustment lending (Leftwich 1993: 606). The resurgence of neoliberalism was exemplified by ‘a new orthodoxy’ that dominated official Western aid policy and development thinking in the 1980s (Leftwich 1993: 609; Friedman and Friedman 1980; Chalker 1991). The orthodoxy assumed that democratic politics was necessary for a thriving free market economy and vice versa; that democratization in the context of free economy would compel governments to be more accountable, less corrupt and more efficient developmentally, as their electoral success depended on their performance in delivering public goods. This was coupled with structural adjustment through a package of measures with which the International Monetary Fund (IMF), the World Bank and Western donors pressed developing countries to adopt in return for a new wave of aid. The adjustment was designed to replace the dominant post-war, state-led development paradigm, which was held responsible for the problems of developmental stagnation, with a new model of open and free competitive market economies, supervised by minimal states. As a consequence of these influences, notions of governance and liberal democracy are inextricably implicated with each other. While the Chinese transformers distance themselves from the concepts of governance and good governance, they are in agreement with the liberal underpinnings of the concepts as defined by the World Bank and other

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international organizations, as well as liberal democracy, which is interchangeable with constitutional democracy in their parlance. In particular, they call attention to constitutionalism, a minimal state, the rule of law and individual liberty. As liberal writer Xu Youyu (1998: 1) observes, constitutional democracy emphasizes the inseparability of democracy, the rule of law and the limiting of state power. He adds that constitutionalism demands a constitution that makes clear stipulations about the most fundamental questions such as the source and scope of governmental power and individual rights and liberty – including religious freedom, freedom of speech, freedom of association and property rights – and the role of the constitution and law in social and political life (Xu Youyu 2007: 33). Thus, under constitutional democracy, all political parties, social groups and individuals are entitled to equal rights and to excise their democratic rights in accordance with the constitution and law. These views are not Xu’s alone but shared by the transformers as a whole. In normative terms, the transformers celebrate individual freedom as representing the essence of the good life itself. Interestingly, the reformers are also amenable to the liberal underpinnings of governance and good governance, and ideologically have much in common with the transformers. Equally important in their conceptualization of good governance is democracy. Indeed, reformers typically stress that the ideal form of good governance can only emerge under liberal democracy, whereas dictatorships may produce good government but not good governance (Yu Keping 2001a: 43), that democracy is at the core of governance as the development of democratic politics will create institutional safeguards for citizens’ participation while good governance can only emerge in an increasingly improved democratic institutional framework (e.g. He Shuangmei 2009: 71). It must be noted, however, that the reformers are by no means unified in the conceptualization of democracy, and their ideas of democracy, whatever they call it, differ markedly from that of the transformers. He Shuangmei (2009: 71), for example, understands democracy as the democratization of public management, or the participation of the citizens in the administration of public affairs. In this conception of democracy, public administration is seen as a process of cooperation between the government and citizens. Thus, whether or not the latter can cooperate effectively with the government depends on their rights of participation in electing governments, decision-making, managing public affairs and monitoring government actions. The problem with public participation in China, He Shuangmei argues, is that it is more nominal than substantive and therefore fails to meet the criteria of good governance. In contrast, Mao Shoulong (2001: 44–5) proposes a ‘realistic democracy’ that is based on constitutionalism, limited government, governance in accordance with the law, power-sharing and self-governance. Mao asserts that democracy does not necessarily mean that the people are in charge and completely control government officials; democracy of that kind is not feasible as it is likely to incur high costs and lead to government expansion when the

Elites in China’s political reform  47 government comes under electoral pressure to increase public expenditure and to ‘democratic tyranny’. A realistic democracy, Mao argues, is one that the people can afford and are willing to support financially. Perhaps He Shuangmei’s and Mao Shoulong’s conceptions of democracy will be acceptable to the party-state but not to the transformers. The former, although it calls for more substantive public participation, is largely consistent with the CCP’s emphasis in recent years on the importance of democratic decision-making through increasing transparency, accountability, consultation, public hearing and the monitoring of officials’ action by the media and the public. This conception of democracy does not have much to do with liberal democracy. Nor does Mao Shoulong’s notion of ‘realistic democracy’. Not only does it insist on a gradual, incremental and programmed – in short, realistic – process of democratization, it also implies that restriction on popular sovereignty and a fair amount of state autonomy are both desirable. Mao’s proposition, needless to say, goes against one of the central imperatives of liberal democracy, namely a minimal state. What is more, it makes no mention of individual liberty. This is also the case with He Shuangmei’s conception of democracy. However, there are other reformers who share similar conceptions of democracy with the transformers. Yu Keping (2004, 2011), for example, speaks of liberal democracy, which refers to a political system or a set of procedures that protect the citizens’ liberty, equality and other rights. It requires that government officials at all levels be elected through free and fair electoral processes and according to the constitution and law. It gives the people maximum freedom in selecting their governors and provides the institutional frameworks that ensure that the elected officials are true representatives of the people who protect and advance their interests. In order for democracy to work, a set of mechanisms must be put in place to enable the citizens to constrain the government’s power and monitor its actions, and to ensure that government officials follow the will the majority of the voters. These mechanisms also enable the citizens to take away the power of unlawful and incompetent officials and those who disregard the will of the voters. Similarly, He Zengke (2004: 24) proposes a composite model that combines electoral democracy, deliberative democracy, liberal democracy, and so on. The most essential link in He’s model is the formation of governing bodies, including government at all levels of jurisdiction, through free, fair and competitive elections. Yu Keping (2004: 10) concurs with He on this point. China’s democratization, according to He, should proceed from the consolidation of village elections and the expansion of elections to township and county governments. These elections can then be combined with democratic elections within the CCP so that intra-party democracy and people’s democracy will work in tandem. The component of deliberative democracy in He’s model is a form of democratic politics to be first introduced at local levels where the governments are not democratically elected yet, and to be gradually expanded

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upwards and downwards to more levels of government. Deliberative democracy takes the form of elite cooptation, wide consultation, public hearing, press conferences, and so on, which lead to democratic decision-making, scientific decision-making and the resolution of social conflict. Liberal democracy in the model constitutes the final feature of democracy; its principal features include constitutionalism, the rule of law, limited government, judiciary independence, the freedom of the press and the balance of power. Most of these features are certainly acceptable to the transformers but not to the party-state. While the CCP has moved to constrain the actions of partystate officials in recent years, there is no sign to suggest that it is prepared to embrace constitutionalism, judiciary independence, the freedom of press or the balance of power in the near future. The same can be said about the notion of democratization as a process of staged or incremental development. From the viewpoint of the party-state, what matters most are the first steps to take in democratization, whereas the future goals can be taken seriously if it wishes to or manipulated for legitimating purposes in the same way that the progression from socialism to communism is theorized to suit the ideological needs of the CCP. It is equally implausible to suggest that the CCP believes or will believe in communism or liberal democracy. All the same, the goals become discursively legitimated, so that it may be gradually taken for granted in society that something like democracy or individual liberty is simply a good thing. Likewise, the reformers may be serious when they speak of advanced stages or higher forms of democracy; or they may be trying to ensure that their realistic, feasible or acceptable program of democratization is justified in the context of higher ideals. Either way, they help legitimate liberty and democracy. None of this is to suggest that the reformers and transformers concur with each on every aspect of democracy; rather, they do not necessarily undermine each other while their conceptions of democracy can be mutually supportive. Their most fundamental difference appears to be a matter of focus. With some exceptions, such as Yu Keping, most reformers place their emphasis on public participation, and the growth and empowerment of civil society instead of individual liberty, in contrast to the transformers. For governance means open public management plus broad participation by the citizens and it is concerned with civil society in that the promotion of civil society is linked to its promotion of accountability, legitimacy, transparency and participation, as it is these factors that empower civil society (Luo and Song 2005: 8; Song Bo 2006; Xiao Xiaoli 2008; He Zengke 2002: 17). Even though some reformers embed citizens’ rights and liberty in their conceptions of democracy, it often appears as though they are merely paying lip service to what are widely perceived to be desirable values or beefing up their conceptions with the values without knowing how these can be put into practice in good governance or democracy. This no doubt undermines the reformers’ credibility in the eyes of the transformers. Yet, they have the advantage of working with the party-state’s political reform programme. There is

Elites in China’s political reform  49 little in their prescriptions for immediate democratic reform that departs drastically from the goals of the CCP; at the same time, they extend the party’s democratic reform agenda and promote the democratic ideals that are currently not permissible as long-term objectives. By comparison, the transformers have less leverage over the party-state’s political reform not simply because the latter has rejected liberal democracy but also because they hardly engage with its reform programme. The best they can do is to legitimate the idea of liberal democracy and promote the liberal underpinnings of governance and good governance, like the reformers, by calling for the rule of law, a minimal state and constitutionalism, which challenge the party-state’s boundary of permissible dissent but can still be tolerated by the party-state.

Conclusion It is evident from the preceding discussion that the concepts of governance and good governance have become part of theoretical tools with which Chinese intellectuals theorize about government and governing, and prescribe alternatives to the party-state’s marked course of political reform. What is more, references to these concepts are found increasingly more frequently in the CCP’s mouthpieces, and in the speeches and writings of party-state officials. These developments would not have been conceivable had it not been for the efforts of the reformers who brought the concepts to China and spread the discourse of governance across Chinese academia and the mass media. Nor would the developments have been possible without the party-state’s connivance at the concepts, which is probably motivated by the perception that the concepts and discourse are harmless, acceptable or even desirable. For the reformers and party-state officials who promote the concepts of governance and good governance, the latter’s attraction lies not only in what the reformers have portrayed as a large global consensus and an inevitable global trend, but also in their potential to help deepen China’s political reform. To varying degrees, the reformers’ and party-state officials’ susceptibility to governance and good governance illustrates how new governing ideas and practices become globalized, and how the soft power of the World Bank and international organizations plays out in this globalizing process. Not that these organizations have imposed the ideas and practices on China’s intellectual elites and party-state officials, but that the latter have voluntarily sought out these ideas and practices, and imported them to China due to their attraction. In the process, they act as indispensable agents of globalization. But that is only one side of the coin; the other side is the domestic demand, the political dynamics that drives the introduction of foreign ideas and practices, and the domestic context in which the ideas and practices come into play. These domestic factors have obviously mediated the introduction of governance and good governance to China, while the role of the intellectual elites, particularly the reformers, proves to be equally critical.

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What motivates the reformers, among other things, is a desire to influence and shape the course of China’s political reform. In this they differ little from the transformers despite their contrasting responses to governance and good governance, and they also have much in common with each other in ideological terms even though their common objectives are forgotten in the heat of polemics over different discursive strategies or operational focuses. Still, there is actually considerable synergy between the reformers and transformers irrespective of their refusal to work together and their failure to cooperate. Indeed, they are more or less agreed on a broad range of goals to achieve in order to reform the party-state, such as the rule of law, a minimal state, constitutional constraint of state power, a legitimate political system, governmental transparency and accountability, democracy, and so on. The reformers’ discourse of governance and the transformers’ discourse of liberal democracy are part of the operational environment of the party-state, which is bound to have some impact on its political thinking and its decisions on political reform, although that impact is hard to measure. The impact can be gauged at the discursive level where the ideas and practices are legitimated and assume hegemony to the extent that their normative value is widely taken for granted and becomes unquestioned or unquestionable. The concepts of governance and good governance have evidently done this in the PRC. Additionally, the impact can be gauged at the level of party-state policy and actual political change in the country. It would be misleading to suggest that the recent political change in the PRC is entirely a result of the reformers’ impact. The fact of the matter is that the governance discourse coincided with the trends and it is extremely difficult to determine which is the cause and which is the effect. It is plausible to argue, nonetheless, that the governance discourse and trends in political change are mutually reinforcing. Furthermore, the former does not simply echo or reinforce the party-state’s reform programme; it also goes further or pushes the boundaries of permissible dissent, thus nudging the party-state forwards. The CCP, for instance, may find the reformers’ demand for the rule of law harmless, but the same cannot be said about their argument that the ultimate aim of the rule of law is to protect citizens’ liberty, equality, and other civil and political rights against state interference and tyranny. This is also the case with the reformers’ assertion that ‘governance’ means the cooperation between the government and the citizens, with the latter entitled to the rights of participation in public decision-making and in the management of public affairs. Yet, the propositions can be seen as reasonable interpretations of the concepts or logical extensions of the CCP’s reform measures. It is through such practices that the intellectual elites, especially the reformers, promote political change and seek to influence the party-state. The role they play in the process is reminiscent of the role of the Confucian literati in imperial China in that they can hardly work on the state without working with or for it.

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Notes 1

2

3

These include, for example, the 1992 World Bank report, Governance and Development; the 1996 OECD report, Evaluation of Programs Promoting Participatory Development and Good Governance; the 1996 UNDP report, Governance for Sustainable Human Development, Management Development and Governance Division; and the 1997 UNESCO document, Governance and UNESCO. See the editor’s introduction to a cluster of articles on governance by Yu Keping, Mao Shoulong and others in Nanjing shehui kexue (Social Sciences in Nanjing), 9, 2001, p. 40. See also the editor’s introduction to another cluster of articles on governance in Gonggong guanli kexue (Public Administration Science), 5, 2001, p. 35. The definition of ‘governance’ in Our Global Neighbourhood: The Report of the Commission on Global Governance: Governance is the sum of the many ways individuals and institutions, public and conflicting or diverse interests may be accommodated and co-operative action may be taken. It includes formal institutions and regimes empowered to enforce compliance, as well as informal arrangements that people and institutions either have agreed to or perceive to be in their interest.

References Bai Dehua. 2010. ‘Cong “Shanzhi” Lun Zhongguo Jianjinshi Gaige’ (‘“Good Governance” and China’s Gradualist Reforms’), PhD thesis, National Chengchi University, Taiwan. Chalker, L. 1991. Good Governance and the Aid Programme, London: Overseas Development Administration. Commission on Global Governance. 1995. Our Global Neighbourhood: The Report of the Commission on Global Governance, available at: www.libertymatters.org/chap1. htm (accessed 10 September 2011). Friedman, M. and R. Friedman. 1980. Free To Choose, Harmondsworth: Penguin. He Shuangmei. 2009. ‘Shanzhi shiye xia de gongmin canyu’ (‘Public Participation from the Point of View of Good Governance’), Zhongyang shehui zhuyi xueyuan xuebao, 2. He Zengke. 2002. ‘Zhili, shanzhi yu Zhongguo zhengzhi fazhan’ (‘Governance, Good Governance and Political Development in China’), Zhonggong fujian shengwei dangxiao xuebao, 3: 16–19. He Zengke. 2004. ‘Minzhuhua: zhengzhi fazhan de Zhongguo moshi yu daolu’ (‘Democratization: A Chinese Model of Political Development’), Ningbo dangxiao xuebao, 2: 22–9. Hyden, G. 1992. ‘Governance and the Study of Politics’, in G. Hyden and M. Bratton (eds), Governance and Politics in Africa, Boulder, CO: Lynne Rienner. Kooiman, J. (ed.). 1993. Modern Governance, London: Sage. Leftwich, Adrian. 1993. ‘Governance, Democracy and Development in the Third World’, Third World Quarterly, 14 (3): 605–24. Li Ke, 2010. ‘Shehui jianshe: yao “shanzheng”, geng xu “shanzhi”‘ (‘Social Construction: “Good Government Is Needed” and “Good Governance” Is Even More Needed’), Guangming Daily, 29 October. Liang Ying. 2003. ‘Zhili, shanzhi yu fazhi’ (‘Governance, Good Governance and Rule of Law’), Qiushi, 2: 50–2.

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Liu Jie. 2011. ‘Zhili lilun yu woguo fuwuxing zhengfu jianshe’ (‘Governance Theory and the Construction of Service Government in China’), Qiaenyan, 10: 80–3. Liu Junning, ‘Wo kan zhengzhi tizhi gaige’ (‘My View on Political Reform’), Zhongguo guoqing guoli, 2: 1. Liu Lihua and Li Zhi. 2005. ‘Zhili yu shanzhi: yizhong guojia yu gongmin shehui de xinxing guanxi’ (‘Governance and Good Governance: A New Relationship between the State and Civil Society’), Lanzhou xuekan, 4: 36–7. Luo Haocai and Song Degong. 2006. ‘Gongyu zhizhi d zhuanxing’ (‘The Transformation of the Public Sphere Management’), Zhngguo faxue, 5: 3–23. Mao Shoulong. 2001. ‘Xiandai zhidao yu zhidao biange’ (‘Modern Governance and Changes in Governance’), Beijing shehui kexue, 9: 44–6. Mao Shoulong. 2007. ‘2006: Zhongguo zhengfu zhidao biange de jinzhan huigu’ (‘2006: A Retrospection of China’s Governance Reform’), Jiangsu xingzheng xueyuan xubao, 6: 88–92. Rhodes, R.A.W. 1996. ‘The New Governance: Governing without Government’, Political Studies, XLIV: 652–67. Rosenau, J.N. 1992. ‘Governance, Order, and Change in World Politics’, in J.N. Rosenau and E-O Czempiel (eds), Governance without Government: Order and Change in World Politics, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Stoker, G. 1994. Local Governance in Britain, Glasgow: Department of Government, University of Strathelyde, mimeo, November, p. 6. Su Quan. 2011. ‘Cong “fazhi” zouxiang “shanzhi” de sikao’ (‘From “Rule of Law” to “Good Governance”’, Hunan Daily, 28 July. Song Bo, 2006. ‘Zouxiang shanzhi: dangdai Zhongguo xingzheng gaige de fangxiang’ (‘Towards Good Governance: The Direction of China’s Administrative Reform’), Dangzheng ganbu xuekan, 6: 33–4. Wang Jianhua, Fu Piyi, Zha Wenhua and Liu Huan. 2011. ‘Weilai wunian Zhongguo shenhua “shanzheng” gaige quxiang “shanzhi”’ (‘China Will Deepen “Good Government” Reforms and Shift Towards “Good Governance”’), The People’s Daily, October 12. Wang Tianwang and Qu Hui. 2011. ‘Dezhi, fazhi, shanzhi de qubie yu lianxi’ (‘The Differences between and Their Interconnections’), Lingdao kexue, 6: 24–5. Wang Yong and Niu Lanying. 2009. ‘Zhili, shanzhi yu Zhongguo tese de shehui zhuyi shehui guanli’ (‘Governance, Good Governance and Socialist Social Management with Chinese Characteristics’), Xiaofei daokan, 7: 102. Wang Zhenrong and Zhang Shufeng. 2005. ‘Lun Zhongguo zhengfu zhili yu shanzhi de shijian yu tansuo’ (‘The Chinese Government’s Practice and Exploration of Governance and Good Governance’), Jinyan xuekan, 6: 8–12. Williams, David and Tom Young. 1994. ‘Governance, the World Bank and Liberal Theory’, Political Studies, XLII: 84–100. Xia Xiaoli. 2008. ‘Zhengfu shanzhi yu gongmin canyu’ (‘Good Governance and Public Participation’), Jinan daxue xuebao, 18 (3): 80–3. Xu Youyu. 1998. ‘Zhongguoshi minzhu de moshi he daolu’ (‘The Model and Path of Democracy Chinese-Style’), Tongzhou gongji, 5: 8–11. Xu Youyu. 2007. ‘Cong xianzheng minzhu jiaodu kan minzhu shehuizhuyi’ (‘An Analysis of Democratic Socialism from the Viewpoint of Constitutional Democracy’), Tongzhou gongji, 5: 33–5. Yu Keping (ed.). 2000. Zhili yu shanzhi (Governance and Good Governance), Beijing: Shehui kexue wenxian chubanshi.

Elites in China’s political reform  53 Yu Keping. 2001a. ‘Zhili yu shanzhi: yizhong xin de zhengzhi fenxi kuangjia’ (‘Governance and Good Governance: A New Framework of Political Analysis’), Nanjing shehui kexue, 9: 40–3. Yu Keping. 2001b. ‘Zuowei yizhong xin zhengzhi fenxi kuangjia de zhili he shanzhi lilun’ (‘The New Analytical Framework of Governance and Good Governance’), Gonggong guanli kexue, 5: 35–8. Yu Keping. 2001c. ‘Zhongguo li: shanzhi you duoyuan’, Zhongguo xingzheng guanli, 9: 15–17. Yu Keping. 2004. ‘Zengliang zhengzhi gaige yu shehuizhuyi zhengzhi wenming jianshe’ (‘Incremental Political Reform and the Construction of Socialist Political Civilisation’), Gonggong guanli xuebao, 1: 8–14. Yu Keping. 2006. ‘Shanzheng: zouxiang shanzhi de guanjian’ (‘Good Government: The Key to Good Governance’), Xinhua Net, available at: http://ishare.iask.sina.com. cn/f/13855576.html (accessed 11 October 2011). Yu Keping. 2007. ‘Gongzheng yu shanzhi’ (‘Social Justice and Good Governance’), Nanchang daxue xuebao (renwen shehui kexueban), 38 (4): 1–3. Yu Keping. 2009. ‘Zhongguo jin 30 nian zhili biange de zhuyao luxian’ (‘The Path of China’s Governance Reform in the Last Three Decades’), Shishi baogao, 1: 25–7. Yu Yun and Li Zhuzhu. 2008. ‘Zhili yu shanzhi: guojia yu gongmin shehui hezuo de jishi’ (‘Governance and Good Governance: The Basis for Cooperation between the State and Civil Society’), Yunnan xingzheng xueyuan xuebao, 5: 66–8.

4

Moving between the inner circle and the outer circle Think tanks and policy making in China Quansheng Zhao

Chapters 2 and 3 study how Chinese intellectuals have affected policy making on domestic affairs in the People’s Republic of China (PRC). This chapter examines how Chinese intellectuals and other social groups have participated in policy-making processes of Chinese foreign policy. I analyze the evolution and role of think tanks in China, focusing on their impact on the policy-making process. I use the concept called “limited interactions between the inner circle and the outer circle” to characterize this relationship. Special attention is paid to the channels between the policy makers and think tanks. The policy-making process of Chinese foreign policy has primarily involved three governing actors: the party, the government and the military. Instead of examining these institutional actors, this chapter will focus on the role of policy communities and their impact on the making of Chinese foreign policy. Haas (1992) specifically raised the concept of “epistemic community,” referring to a “network of professionals with recognized expertise and competence in a particular domain and an authoritative claim to policy-relevant knowledge within that domain or issue-area.” These professional networks, also known as policy communities, become influential because of the nature and complexity of the issues involved. Think tanks are an important part of these policy communities. As in Western societies, policy communities and think tanks in China have exerted increasing influence on the direction of foreign policy, although there are noticeable limitations (Brookings Panel 2008). In July 2009, a three-day think tank summit was held in Beijing, primarily focusing on solutions to tackle the financial crisis. In attendance were Li Keqiang, China’s Vice Premier; Romano Prodi, former President of the European Commission and former Prime Minister of Italy; and Henry Kissinger, Former Secretary of State of the United States, among others. China’s newly established “super think tank” – the Center for International Economic Exchanges (CIEE), headed by retired Vice-Premier Zeng Peiyan, sponsored this summit (People’s Daily 2009). Against this background, the following studies will examine the impact of policy communities and think tanks on Chinese foreign policy.

Think tanks and policy making in China  55

Institutions It is only natural that in recent times attention has been moved to the link between Chinese foreign policy and China’s domestic environment as the country continues to undertake profound reform and the rise of China becomes a focus of world attention. A few studies have examined general influences of Chinese think tanks in the Chinese policy process (Zhu 2006, 2009). This chapter, however, focuses primarily on foreign policy dimensions. In China, the most well-known think tanks working on foreign policy issues are research institutes under various government agencies. In 2006, the Chinese government revealed the top ten think tanks in China (Zhang 2006). These think tanks are: • • • • • • • • • •

Chinese Academy of Social Sciences (CASS) Development Research Center of the State Council Chinese Academy of Sciences (CAS) Chinese Academy of Military Sciences of the People’s Liberation Army (PLA) China Institute of International Studies (CIIS) China Institutes of Contemporary International Relations (CICIR) China National Committee for Pacific Economic Cooperation (CNCPEC) China Association for Science and Technology (CAST) China Institute for International Strategic Studies (CIISS) Shanghai Institute for International Studies (SIIS).

The CASS is the largest and most comprehensive government think tank in China. A number of research institutes under CASS are dealing specifically with international affairs and foreign policy issues, as clearly indicated in their institutional names, such as “American Studies,” “European Studies,” “Japanese Studies,” “Asia-Pacific Studies,” “Russian, East European and Central Asian Studies,” “West Asian and African Studies,” “World Politics and Economic Studies,” “Latin American Studies,” “China’s Borderland History and Geography Research,” and so on. CIIS falls under the Ministry of Foreign Affairs and contributes directly to policy analyses on current affairs. CICIR, a Ministry of National Security affiliated think tank, is known for its size in research staff, broad topics of research, as well as internal channels of policy recommendation. The Shanghai-based SIIS has served as an alternative and flexible window for Beijing’s foreign policy establishment. In addition, two military think tanks, CAMS and CIISS, are under the People’s Liberation Army (PLA), specializing in strategic and security issues. All these institutions have had relatively long history, playing important roles in various policy areas. There are also new think tanks, such as the earlier mentioned Center for International Economic Exchanges (CCIEE), but many of them tend to concentrate on economic policies.

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Let us now conduct a brief review of previous studies in this regard. An early example is He Li’s “The Role of Think Tanks in Chinese Foreign Policy,” where detailed analyses were conducted on the historical development and structures of Chinese think tanks (He Li 2002). One other example comes from the September 2002 issue of China Quarterly, which was dedicated in large part to the study of China’s think tanks. Many discussions involved foreign policy topics. In this issue, Murray Scot Tanner examines the evolving think tank system in China by first using the case of China’s growing commercialization, which has spawned a new generation of think tanks (Tanner 2002). He further argues that generational change is evident in China’s previously unstudied network of public security think tanks. These institutes, according to Tanner, have been in the forefront of importing and incorporating more sophisticated crime-fighting tactics and less class-based theories of social unrest. David Shambaugh (2002) argues that over the past two decades, China’s foreign policy think tanks have come to play increasingly important roles in Chinese foreign policy making and intelligence analysis. He provides a detailed analysis on the think tanks’ structure and processes by offering historical perspectives on the evolution of this community. Shambaugh further argues that these think tanks often offer important indications of broader policy debates and competitions between institutions and their staff. Bonnie Glaser and Philip Saunders (2002) focus their research on civilian foreign policy research institutes and their increasing influence. They argue that a more pluralistic and competitive policy environment has given analysts at think tanks more influence, but has also created new competition from analysts and authors working out of traditional research institutions. Bates Gill and James Mulvenon (2002) bring their research focus on the national research community in Beijing by arguing that this community is dominated by think tanks and other research organizations affiliated with specific governmental institutions. Furthermore, they point out that the People’s Liberation Army (PLA) maintains its own set of internal and affiliated research bodies, performing a variety of intelligence, exchange and research functions. Barry Naughton (2002) examines economic think tanks in China. He states that although these think tanks are all government sponsored, they offer important alternatives to the policies and advice available within the formal governmental bureaucracy. He notes, however, that some independent think tanks have emerged together with the increasing network of policy advisers to China’s top leaders. Sometimes these policy advisers play a more important role than think tanks. Alastair Iain Johnston (2004) also conducted a careful study of Chinese middle-class attitudes towards international affairs. Although not directly related to think tanks, the general argument of the article and the development of civil society in China are relevant to the subject matter of this chapter. There are also an increasing number of PhD dissertations and Masters theses focusing on this subject, some of which have recently been turned into books or journal

Think tanks and policy making in China  57 articles. For example, a dissertation-turned book entitled Chinese Foreign Policy Think Tanks and China’s Policy Toward Japan has provided a detailed study to update the evolution of China’s think tanks and their relations with Chinese foreign policy. The author has also attempted to bring the study into a broader theoretical framework that will integrate recent developments in the conceptualization of Chinese foreign policy (Liao 2006; Yahuda 2006). Thomas Bondiguel and Thierry Kellner’s article (2009) entitled “The Impact of China’s Foreign Policy Think Tanks” provides a detailed analysis of the role of think tanks in China’s foreign policy. The importance of think tanks in Chinese foreign policy and other decisionmaking processes has also drawn attention from scholars in China. The Internet journal entitled China’s Strategy, co-published by the Center for Strategic and International Studies (CSIS) and the Chinese Media Net, Inc., (CMN) is an example of the attention being given to Chinese think tanks. In the first issue published in January 2004, the journal contributed a special section entitled, “Decision-making mechanisms under the fourth generation of Chinese leadership.” In this issue, all articles are written by Chinese scholars in China, making it a good complement to the above-mentioned China Quarterly collection. Zhong Nanyuan published his analysis on the current status of Chinese think tanks and their relations with the CCP leadership. Ding Dajun examined the participation of intellectuals in the decision-making process. Zou Lan studied the influence of think tanks on finance, the environment and public crisis management. Zhang Wei focused his research on economic policies. Hong Xiaohu researched new mechanisms of defense policy making. As for foreign policy decision-making systems, Sun Zhe analyzed their evolution characteristics under the new leadership.1

Changes and continuities Major changes in Chinese politics and foreign policy occurred between the eras of Mao Zedong and Deng Xiaoping. Deng’s policy of reform and openness has fundamentally redirected China’s development, both domestically and internationally. The era of Jiang Zemin, Hu Jintao and the current leadership of Xi Jinping can be seen as a continuation of the Deng era in terms of general directions, yet these new leaders have their own characteristics as well. It is, therefore, necessary for us to examine changes and continuities between these different eras. In a 1992 article entitled “Domestic Factors of Chinese Foreign Policy: From Vertical to Horizontal Authoritarianism,” this author (Zhao 1992) characterized the changing process of foreign policy in China as that from Mao’s era of vertical authoritarianism (i.e. one-person domination) to Deng’s era of horizontal authoritarianism (i.e. collective decision-making). This article also pointed out that although they demonstrated increasing importance, intellectuals had not yet become an independent entity in China’s political life. They had gained more freedom to discuss policy issues internally, but externally or

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publicly, they were obligated to support official party lines. Think tanks had a fairly high degree of freedom to conduct internal discussions on a variety of issues but it was difficult, if not impossible, for research institutes to voice dissenting points of view openly. A scholar who was allowed to discuss foreign policy issues in public is expected to explain and validate only the official party lines. As time passes, the scope and degree of participation by think tanks and policy communities have enlarged in the post-Deng era, as leaders have vowed to continue Deng’s policy of reform and openness. Jiang Zemin and Hu Jintao encouraged think tanks and policy communities to participate in the policy-making process in a variety of ways. The most salient participation was in economic policy-making. In analyzing the development from the era of Deng to the post-Deng era under the leadership of Jiang and Hu, one will see increasing interactions between the leadership and policy communities.

Channels between the inner and outer circles The following analysis will be focused on the relationship between the top leaders, known as the inner circle, and the think tanks, forming a part of the outer circle of the policy community. In Sun Zhe’s paper on decision-making in Chinese foreign policy mentioned earlier, he divided the process into internal and external circles.2 In this chapter, I would like to define internal circles (quan nei 圈内), or the center, as that which includes key policy-making individuals and organizations in the party and the government. The external circles, to which I will refer as the outer circles (quanwai 圈外), include the news media, universities, think tanks, and so on. The key development under Jiang and Hu is the increasingly active and multi-layered channels between the inner and outer circles. I have developed a notion of seven channels between these two bodies, as discussed below. Channel 1: consultations with policy makers In recent years, the Communist Party and government organizations have begun to make systemic consultations with think tanks and policy communities on specific policy issues, including foreign policy. The Foreign Ministry, for example, has its own mini-circles for consultation over policy issues, the most interesting and noticeable of these being a system of invited lectures by think tank and policy community scholars for the Chinese Communist Party politburo. Recent examples are the lectures on international relations and foreign policy issues given by invited scholars Qin Yaqing (of the Foreign Affairs College) and Zhang Yuyan (from the Academy of Social Sciences) to the top leaders in the politburo. These kinds of interactions provide opportunities for scholars to exercise direct influence on the opinions of top leaders. It is, nevertheless, a fairly rare occasion for intellectuals to do so and one cannot expect too much in terms of policy impact.

Think tanks and policy making in China  59 In addition to the above-mentioned lectures, there are also issue-oriented debates and discussions among policy communities, and between intellectuals and policy makers. In order to ensure this kind of policy debate, a proper political and intellectual atmosphere is necessary. It is impossible, for example, for such policy debate to occur during a totally closed period, such as the Cultural Revolution. Deng Xiaoping’s reform and openness initiatives, beginning in 1978, opened the door to the possibility for such policy debate. At first, it appeared regarding internal economic policies, particularly in the debate over command versus market economies. It gradually expanded to the foreign policy field. Gilbert Rozman (1987), for example, made a detailed record of such debates on the nature of the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics (USSR) and the relationship between China and the USSR during the period of 1978–85. This kind of debate has flourished more and more since the 1990s. One case in point is the debate on China’s entrance into the World Trade Organization (WTO) and the issue of globalization. In the late 1990s and early 2000s, prior to China’s accession in December 2001 to the WTO, heated discussions and debates took place to talk about the pros and cons of the issue (Misra 2003). Banning Garrett investigated these internal deliberations within Chinese think tanks and Chinese leaders’ dialogues with them (Garrett 2001), which provided some useful input in China’s policy toward the WTO. Channel 2: internal reports via government channels As mentioned earlier, under some government agencies, there are a number of official think tanks which may also deal with foreign policy issues. Another type of official think tank is Zhengfu Canshi-shi, meaning “Governmental Consulting Division.” This kind of canshi-shi exists at both the national and provincial levels. At the national level, there is a State Council supervised canshi-shi, with 35 consultants. At the provincial or city levels, there are 41 Governmental Consulting Divisions with more than 1,000 consultants (Wen 2004). A traditional way for think tanks to exert their influence has been through internal reports to top leaders. Leading foreign policy organizations and agencies such as the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, the Ministry of State Security and military organizations have their own research institutes. There are longestablished channels through which scholars may submit research papers, policy analyses and recommendations to various levels of policy makers, including from time to time the top leaders. These policy recommendations are sometimes bold without ideological constraints. One of such examples is a suggestion in 2008 from researchers in the Party Central School that the CCP should speed up political reform in order to cope with the rapid development of Chinese society (Buckley 2008). Bonnie Glaser and Phillip Saunders describe four different types of influence exerted by think tank scholars. First, some scholars may have “positional influence,” whereby they utilize their key positions in the government, such

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as within the China Institute of Contemporary International Relations (CICIR) and the China Institute of International Studies (CIIS). Second, those who possess expert knowledge in regional or technical matters are able to exert what is referred to as “expertise influence.” The third type, “personal influence,” is enjoyed by those individuals who are closely related to high-level government officials. For example, Yang Jiemian, Director of the Shanghai Institute of International Studies, has considerable access to policy makers through his elder brother, Yang Jiechi, former Chinese Ambassador to the United States and current Minister of Foreign Affairs. The fourth source of influence is called “experiential influence,” which is held by those people who have accumulated valuable knowledge through extensive experience living and studying abroad (Glaser and Saunders 2002). The fifth source of influence is retired veteran diplomats. These retired government officials not only accumulated enormous first-hand knowledge abroad, but perhaps more importantly, they also have extensive personal networks within the foreign policy apparatus. This is true not only because human networks have always been important in Chinese society, but also because China’s foreign policy apparatus is relatively exclusive and segregated. In many cases these retired officials still serve as advisers to the foreign ministry or work in some semi-official governmental institutions, such as the Chinese People’s Association for Foreign Affairs. Qian Qichen, China’s former Foreign Minister and Vice-Prime Minister, was believed to continue to have enormous influence on foreign policy issues, several years after his total retirement from the government and the party. Therefore, the degree of influence of think tanks may depend on the sources of influence that individuals possess. In addition to personal influence, one other factor to consider is the evaluation system (pishi) that exists within the government. Senior-level officials, sometimes top leaders, often provide comments (known as pishi) on think tank reports. They also rank the usefulness and importance of each report submitted by a think tank and these evaluations are then attached to the reports when they are circulated. Receiving a pishi from top leaders can help policy experts build both their careers and reputations as experts (Bondiguel and Kellner 2009). Channel 3: conferences and public policy debates Another important channel for policy communities and scholars to convey their opinions is through conferences and public policy debates. Although these conferences and debates may not necessarily have a direct impact on policy makers, they do carry weight in influencing public opinion. The relatively recent practice of discussion and debate of current international affairs in the Chinese news media, including that on the Central Chinese Television (CCTV) network and in major newspapers, are good examples of such public dialogues. In general, the degree of freedom for this kind of debate depends on the degree of sensitivity. For example, there are few public discussions of the North Korean nuclear crisis (and even though some exist, the debaters may get into

Think tanks and policy making in China  61 trouble – see below), but there are quite a few lively debates regarding U.S. military actions in Iraq and the ongoing China–Japan disputes over the Diaoyu (Senkaku) Islands – one can hear both pros and cons in a true crossfire of opinions. Research institutes affiliated with universities and various governmental agencies are the likely host for policy-oriented conferences. The Chinese Academy of Social Sciences has a number of policy experts who frequently participate in internal conferences for policy deliberation. Researchers from the Institute of American Studies and the Institute of Asia Pacific Studies are also good examples in this regard. These activities present excellent opportunities for researchers to voice differing opinions. There are also news media arranged public policy debates. Professors and research fellows from leading universities, such as Beijing, Qinghua, Renmin and Fudan, are the main participants in these internationaloriented conferences and debates. Increasingly, these scholars are invited to present their analyses on foreign policy at international conferences, on television programs and radio discussions, and in newspapers and popular magazines. For example, Qinghua University’s Yan Xuetong and Chu Shulong are frequent commentators on CCTV programs. Beijing University’s Jia Qingguo and Renmin University’s Jin Canrong are often quoted in various media. Although many of them are quite visible in the public eye, these academic scholars in general do not necessarily have direct access to policy makers and therefore have little influence on policy makers in Beijing. Individually, however, a few of them may have various influences, depending on their personal networks and connections, as discussed earlier. In a recently published paper, Cheng Li (2010) predicts a likely enhancement of the “military’s influence and power in the years to come.” Along these lines, several generals in the People’s Liberation Army (PLA) have recently called for tough positions toward the US and Japan. Major General Luo Yuan of the PLA, for example, has accused the United States of employing what he calls “gunboat diplomacy.” He describes it as a process of the United States first “flexing” its muscles as a warning and then teaching a lesson with its “fists.” General Luo (2010) cites the United States’ Naval Operations Concept approved by President Obama in May 2010 as the best example of this type of diplomacy. He also calls the Chinese “peace-loving people” and criticizes the United States for using hard power, not smart power. Another example is PLA Major General Zhu Chenghu, who people refer to as a “hawkish” General. In 2005, Zhu threatened to use nuclear weapons if the US intruded on the issue regarding the conflict in Taiwan. “If the Americans are determined to interfere, then we will be determined to respond,” he said. “We Chinese will prepare ourselves for the destruction of all the cities east of Xian. Of course the Americans will have to be prepared that hundreds of cities will be destroyed by the Chinese” (New York Times 2005). An influential policy oriented journal entitled Zhanlue yu Guangli [Strategy and Management], established in 1993, is affiliated with the Strategy and Management Research Society, a think tank headed by former Vice Premier

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Gu Mu. This journal often makes bold policy suggestions as a testing balloon for new directions (Rutwich 2004). For example, in 2002 and 2003, the journal published two articles regarding China’s Japan policy – one by Ma Licheng of the People’s Daily and the other by Shi Yinhong of Renmin University. Ma and Shi strongly advocated a “foreign policy revolution” which would reprioritize Chinese foreign policy directions in terms of China–Japan relations. Both articles emphasize the necessity to view strategic interests above considerations for historical legacies in Beijing’s calculation concerning Japan. Although these articles received strong criticism from some circles of Chinese society and became quite controversial, they nevertheless did produce some “new thinking” in China’s Japan policy, as the authors had advocated. However, disaster struck the outspoken journal in September 2004 after it published an even more controversial article on North Korea. The article, written by the Chinese economist Wang Zhongwen, was entitled “A New Viewpoint to Examine the North Korea Issue and the Northeast Asian Situation” and appeared in the journal’s July/August 2004 issue. Wang criticized North Korea’s nuclear policy and the country’s leader, Kim Jong Il, for “practicing ultra-leftist politics and political persecution in order to maintain dynastic rule.” The author further suggested that Chinese foreign policy should be readjusted according to new developments in North Korea and in the Asia Pacific region. The issue was immediately recalled and banned, and the journal itself was ordered to close (Tkacik 2004). This episode highlights how sensitive foreign policy-related discussions in open forums can be in Beijing’s political circle. It is nevertheless remarkable that such an article was even published, especially when viewed in light of China’s censorship practices one or two decades ago, not to mention during the Cultural Revolution. Generally speaking, policy communities now have greater freedom in voicing differing opinions and analyses on foreign policy issues (albeit not without risk) and today’s scholars appear much more active than those in previous decades (Leonard 2008). Channel 4: policy NGOs Although non-governmental organizations (NGOs) are still a new concept in China, they are quickly being utilized by the Chinese government to conduct foreign policy activities. At the same time, there are some attempts to set up non-governmental think tanks. A few government organizations have managed to transform into semi-official or NGO status (Zhu and Xue 2007). To be sure, many NGOs are not truly independent of governmental control. However, they sometimes appear to have much greater freedom and flexibility to conduct policy research and foreign policy related activities. A clear example is the common practice of so-called “Channel II Diplomacy” (also known as “Track II Diplomacy”). This refers to the activities of retired government officials, scholars and think tank members who actively participate in all kinds of forums, meetings and other activities with their foreign

Think tanks and policy making in China  63 counterparts. These activities are designed to facilitate exchange on sensitive issues such as arms control and the issue of Taiwan that may not be easily conducted by official diplomats. Sarah Ellen Graham and John Robert Kelley explain that Channel II diplomacy focuses on dialogue as a means of reconciliation in tense situations. Participants utilizing the Channel II approach work to facilitate communication between disagreeing parties. Channel II diplomacy is also utilized for public relations and may “supplement and enhance track one diplomatic contacts” (Graham and Kelley 2009). To encourage and coordinate these kinds of activities, the Chinese Foreign Ministry established a new public diplomacy division in the spring of 2004. Assistant Minister of Foreign Affairs Shen Guofang announced in March 2004 that the new Division of Public Diplomacy was established to coordinate the dissemination of information and to influence public opinion (World Journal 2004: 4). There are also a few foreign policy oriented organizations established. One well-known organization is the China Reform Forum (CRF). Founded in 1994, the forum was registered as a non-governmental organization at the Beijing Municipal Government Associations Office. Its founding chairman, Zheng Bijian, is the former Executive Vice President of the Central Party School, and the organization includes a large number of scholars, policy community members, and current and retired government officials as its advisers and executive members. CRF has organized many academic conferences and has set up exchange relations with more than 20 countries, including the United States, France, the United Kingdom, Germany, the Netherlands, Russia, Japan, South Korea and Singapore. Its influence is on the rise, both domestically and internationally. CRF has also actively participated in discussions on Chinese foreign policy directions, such as the creation of much debated and eyecatching concept on China’s “peaceful rise” (Glaser and Medeiros 2007). This development has further demonstrated the strong desire for policy makers in China to integrate into the world’s scholarly and policy-making community. Channel 5: outside-system (tizhiwai 体制外) discussions Most of the channels mentioned above can be regarded more or less as government-sponsored activities. One must, however, also play close attention to tizhiwai channels, meaning outside-system discussions that may from time to time be beyond government control. This has been particularly true during the most recent decade since the 1990s in the new information age. As the control over public information has loosened, there have been a variety of ways for scholars to voice their opinions, which are not always aligned with the opinions of the party. Many of these opinions are meeting with the popular mood, reflecting a strong nationalistic tendency. One example is a bestselling book published in Beijing in 1996 entitled A China That Can Say No, which reflected a strong anti-American sentiment (Song et al. 1996). Thirteen years later, in 2009, the same group of authors published another bestseller, Unhappy China, advocating China’s leadership role in the post-financial crisis era with

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strong nationalistic sentiment (Song et al. 2009). These ideas are in sharp contrast to tao guang yang hui (to hide your capacity and to keep a low profile) mainstream thinking of Chinese foreign policy, initially raised by Deng Xiaoping in early 1990s (Zhao 1996: 50–4). In the age of the Internet, it is difficult, if not impossible, for any government to control its citizens’ access to information. In the era of Mao and even at the beginning of the Deng era, the Chinese government had tight control over the news media. The gatekeeper for this control was the Propaganda Department of the Chinese Communist Party. In the Internet age, however, this control has been greatly challenged and largely broken. During the spring of 2004, a Beijing University Associate Professor, Jiao Guobiao, posted an article on the Internet entitled “Taofa Zhongxuanbu” [“Denounce the Propaganda Department”]. This article advocated a need for greater freedom for the news media from control by the party and the government, and drew broad attention and provoked heated discussion on the Internet about information control in China. It is therefore a recent practice for scholars and policy community members to look at Internet discussion debates to ascertain the popular mood. Internet discussion has drawn close attention from the central leadership. The Chinese Foreign Affairs Ministry, for example, has set up a pop-up within its Chinese-language website asking for the opinions of intellectuals and other ordinary citizens. Internet users can email their opinions to the ministry and can conduct discussions in the chat-room and can even “chat” with senior foreign affairs officials regularly (Gries 2004: 134). It has become a pattern that whenever there is a dramatic and sometimes controversial international incident that involves China, there will be heated discussion about the event on the Internet. This happened in 1999 with the war in Kosovo and the subsequent embassy bombing incidents in which the NATO-led bombers attacked the Chinese embassy in Belgrade. In a detailed survey study on the attitudes of Beijing students after the embassy bombing, Dingxin Zhao showed that there is an apparent “rise of popular anti-U.S. nationalism in China” (Zhao 2002). Discussions can become more heated when the issue involves nationalism as demonstrated by Internet discussions regarding the territory dispute between China and Japan over the Diaoyu Islands (or Senkaku in Japanese). In fact, China has begun to allow anti-Japanese demonstrations in several Chinese cities over this territorial dispute. The 2010 protests began peacefully, but eventually became more rowdy, with some demonstrators holding racist signs calling for Japan to be “wiped off the face of the earth.” A newspaper in Hong Kong reported that the protests were organized by governmentsponsored university groups.3 Although the number of Chinese citizens with access to the Internet is still a tiny portion of the entire Chinese population, and it is difficult to fully represent popular mood, Internet discussion nevertheless plays an influential role in two ways. First, the government may have to take publicly expressed opinions into consideration when making critical decisions, such as which

Think tanks and policy making in China  65 country to work with on the high-speed railway project between Beijing and Shanghai. The issue of who to partner with (Japan or Europe) not only provoked heated debates among related government agencies and policy communities, but also became a controversial topic in public opinion. The second is a deterrent role in that it prevents scholars and policy community members in public appearances from making conciliatory gestures on controversial issues. Some scholars even feel deterred from making rational analyses when they are interviewed publicly, fearing a negative response later on the Internet. Since there is another paper concentrating on the function of the Internet and the news media, I will not continue to give a more detailed analysis in this regard. Channel 6: overseas scholars Another important source for policy communities’ influence on Chinese foreign policy is from overseas scholars. Previously, this kind of influence was exercised by a few prominent individuals. Several Chinese-American Nobel Prize winners were invited to return to China to provide advice to top leaders on a variety of issues, including foreign policy issues, but this kind of practice remains limited and lacks a systematic arrangement. Since the 1980s, large numbers of scholars and students have studied abroad. Many of them now have become professors and scholars in advanced industrialized countries, particularly in the US and Japan. A large portion of these scholars are focused on science and technology, but there are a small portion of them concentrating on the social sciences and humanities, including foreign policy and international relations. These scholars have organized themselves into academic exchange and professional networking organizations. A few have even begun to play a consultative role in foreign policy issues. One such example is the Global Forum of Chinese Political Scientists.4 It was established in 1999 by Chinese scholars in the United States, China, Hong Kong, Taiwan and Japan. In addition to regular academic activities, such as sponsoring panels for American Political Science Association annual meetings, it has a practice of carrying out annual and semi-annual conferences, workshops and mini-roundtables to discuss not only academic issues, but also policy-oriented dialogues and debates. This group has had activities in Washington, DC, Hong Kong, Beijing, Shanghai and Tokyo. It has also established a number of partnerships with leading Chinese institutions, such as the China Reform Forum and the Shanghai Institute of International Studies. From 2002 to 2005, the Global Forum and the China Reform Forum cosponsored annual meetings in Beijing on a variety of crucial issues in Chinese foreign policy, including U.S.–China relations, U.S. foreign policy, the issue of Taiwan, Sino-Japanese relations, the North Korean nuclear crisis and community building in East Asia. Since 2006, the forum has co-sponsored joint annual conferences in Beijing together with the Taiwan Affairs Office under the State Council. Most recently, in October 2010, it held a conference at American University in Washington, DC titled “China–U.S. Relations and New

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Thinking of Cross-Strait Relations.” Through these kinds of activities, overseas scholars have had the opportunity to conduct extensive discussions in both Beijing and Shanghai with their academic counterparts from such institutions as Beijing University, Qinghua University, Fudan University, Renmin University, the Chinese Academy of Social Sciences, the China Institute of Contemporary International Relations, the China Institute of International Studies, the Shanghai Academy of Social Sciences and National Defense University, among others. In addition, Global Forum delegations have also had opportunities to engage in dialogue with policy makers in Beijing’s foreign policy apparatus. Over the years, they have visited the Foreign Affairs Ministry and met with Vice Foreign Ministers Li Zhaoxing (who later became foreign minister), Zhou Wenzhong, Zhang Yesui and He Yafei. At the State Council’s Taiwan Affairs office they had extensive discussions over the years with Deputy Ministers Zhou Mingwei, Wang Zaixi, Wang Fuqing, Sun Yafu and Ye Kedong. They also visited the Central Party School and the National Defense University. In 2003 at the National Defense University, they had chances to discuss with more than a dozen officers of the Institute of Strategic Studies. In 2008, the group had a lengthy roundtable meeting with General Xiong Guangkai, PLA’s Former Deputy Chief of Staff. In all these meetings, they had detailed exchanges of ideas, analysis and discussions over policies related to foreign affairs, national defense and political development. This new pattern of dialogue and systematic visits may produce a considerable impact on Chinese decision-makers’ understanding of external affairs and improve policy-making processes. However, at this beginning stage of this sort of engagement, the influence from overseas scholars remains limited and relatively unnoticed. Channel 7: highly specialized professional community As think tanks and policy communities in the field of international relations and foreign policy studies have developed further, three types of policyoriented epistemic communities have also emerged. The first type is the policy-oriented community which concentrates on issues in a specific policy area, such as arms control, missile defense, human rights, the WTO, and so on. In their study of Chinese military-related think tanks and research institutions, for example, Bates Gill and James Mulvenon argued that there are considerable developments and an expansion of exchange programs with foreign countries and research on military issues. Those think tanks and institutions include the National Defense University, China Institute for International Strategic Studies, the Center for Peace and Development, China Defense, Science and Technology Information Center, the Foundation for International Strategic Studies and the Academy of Military Sciences (Gill and Mulvenon 2002). These issue-oriented think tanks and organizations have developed extensive internal and external networking and have become a policy community.

Think tanks and policy making in China  67 The second type of epistemic community is made up of regional or countryoriented research institutes and/or scholars. In China, there are a large number of research institutes with scholars concentrating on a specific region or country, such as the United States, Europe, Japan, the Middle East, Southeast Asia, Africa and Latin America. Internal networking within each area study is also well developed. The third type of epistemic community is connected to foreign research institutes and scholars. A few internationally oriented think tanks, both governmental and non-governmental, have well-developed connections with their counterparts abroad. The best examples in this regard are the China Institute of International Studies, China Institute of Contemporary International Relations, the China Reform Forum and the Shanghai Institute of International Studies. The Chinese foreign policy apparatus has varying degrees of contact with each of these epistemic communities and, through these channels, is able to obtain expert opinions from different angles, perspectives and backgrounds, which will in turn improve policy-making deliberations. These widely established networks have also allowed policy makers to reach out for policy consultation and input, but at the same time, the development of these policy communities is uneven, and therefore the function and impact is also varied.

Reasons for change The above analysis has demonstrated enormous changes and development in terms of the greater role played by think tanks and policy communities in the foreign policy-making process in China. The fundamental changes took place between the era of Mao and the era of Deng, as illuminated in my 1992 Annals article mentioned earlier. Chinese society in more recent eras – specifically the eras of Jiang and Hu – has continuously undergone significant changes. The seven channels between the inner and outer circles in terms of policy input have demonstrated this change. There are three reasons behind these changes. The first reason is the development of civil society in China. Frank Schwartz and Susan Pharr in their edited volume conduct excellent analyses on the emergence of civil society in Japan (Schwartz and Pharr 2003). In his definition of the term “civil society,” Schwartz emphasized the following important elements: a nation-state, cultural dispositions, a market economy, associations and a public sphere (among others) (Schwartz 2003). In borrowing this analysis on Japan, we can see clearly how the recent developments in China have created a foundation for the growth of civil society. Zhang Ye argues that the “crucial measure of [the] presence [of a civil society] in any nation is the ability of NGOs to progress and develop” (Zhang 2003). Using this measure, China is undergoing social changes that indicate the emergence of a civil society. It should be noted, however, that while Chinese society is becoming more pluralistic, China still has a long way to go before it can be said that a civil society in China exists. As mentioned earlier, Alastair Iain Johnston recently argued that the attitude of China’s growing middle class toward international

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affairs has moved to “a greater level of nascent liberalism” (Johnston 2004), which has in turn had an impact on Chinese foreign policy. The blossoming of a market economy and increasing room for private citizens in both the economic and even political environment in the past two or three decades has created a new atmosphere. Think tanks and policy communities can in turn utilize this public sphere (including such mechanisms as the news media and the Internet) to advocate their opinions. After a detailed study of the relationship between popular nationalism and Chinese foreign policy, Peter Gries argues that “popular nationalists are not just influencing domestic politics; they are also beginning to influence the making of Chinese foreign policy” (Gries 2004). The difference therefore between the Jiang–Hu era and Deng era is that policy communities now have greater freedom in voicing their dissenting opinions on foreign policy issues in terms of scope and degree (although noticeable limitations remain). Another reason behind these changes is greater demand for policy input. China’s external relations have expanded rapidly as China has further integrated into the world community. Foreign policy issues are no longer limited to political, security and strategic issues, but also include other dimensions such as culture, economics, human rights, international organizations, and so on. These issues require broader participation, and the bureaucrats’ capacity alone will not be enough. Along this spirit, the foreign affairs ministry and other government agencies have gradually established formal and informal consultation systems with think tanks and policy communities. According to Peter Haas, there are four functions for epistemic communities to play. First, they will be able to elucidate the cause-and-effect relationships and provide advice about the likely results of various courses of action. Second, they can shed light on the nature of complex interlinkages between issues. Third, they can help define the self-interest of a state or factions within it. And last, they can help formulate policies, and in some cases “decision makers will seek advice to gain information which will justify or legitimize a policy that they may wish to pursue for political ends” (Hass 1992: 15). Similarly, epistemic communities in China, including think tanks, have performed these kinds of functions in the policy formulation process. The third reason for the changes is the growing professionalism in the foreign policy apparatus. As a former Chinese diplomat told American researchers, “It used to be easy to be a Chinese diplomat. You just memorized the two phrases that defined the current policy and repeated them over and over. It’s much harder now. You have to know about everything” (Glaser and Saunders 2002: 597). Diplomats and researchers alike have all increased their level of education. Many of them have experience studying abroad. Some of them even have MA and PhD degrees from the United States, Japan and Europe. Furthermore, through intensive interactions with counterparts in the West, Chinese diplomats have greatly shortened their learning curve and have increasingly become professionalized. Think tanks and policy communities are

Think tanks and policy making in China  69 even more professionalized in their research activities and policy input. With this enhanced quality and quantity, it is natural that their voices are more frequently heard by top-level leaders of the foreign policy apparatus.

Future directions I will use the metaphor of a half-glass of water to describe the impact of think tanks and policy communities on foreign policy. The glass is half full in that there has been a noticeably increasing influence of think tanks in foreign policy communities, but at the same time we have to notice the half-empty part. There are still limitations in terms of policy inputs. This is particularly true when comparing China with Western countries or comparing China with other East Asian societies that have been deeply influenced by the West, such as Japan, South Korea and Taiwan. One major difference is in terms of the degree to which official lines of foreign policy can be openly criticized or challenged. We understand that, for example, the George W. Bush administration faced enormous domestic criticism regarding the war in Iraq and Afghanistan. Japanese and South Korean leaders have also been openly challenged in their decisions to send troops to Iraq. These kinds of true policy debates over key foreign policy decision are still not imaginable in the current Chinese society, despite the significant progress that has been made. One other limitation is in terms of personnel exchanges between think tanks and governmental agencies. It is a common practice in the West and in Japan for scholars and policy community members to have opportunities to serve in the government and, when regimes change, for these government officials to be transferred to think tanks to do policy research. This kind of practice is still rare in Chinese society, if not completely absent. When dealing with the increasing influence of think tanks and policy communities on Chinese foreign policy, Beijing clearly has to calculate the advantages and disadvantages. On the one hand, more policy input from think tanks and policy communities will increase the quality of decision-making. It may also provide bargaining chips when acting in the international community. On the other hand, as an authoritarian society, the Communist Party has been careful to protect its monopoly of power when making major decisions, including foreign policy decisions. With this kind of cost–benefit analysis, there will be inevitable ups and downs in terms of Beijing’s control over intellectual life. The degree of policy communities’ participation in foreign policy formation will correspond to the degree of party-state control over society. In examining the impact of think tank policy communities on Chinese foreign policy, I analyzed seven policy input channels. These types of policy mechanisms include consultations with policy makers, internal reports, conferences and public policy debates, policy NGOs, outside-system discussions, overseas scholars and epistemic community. One may develop even more models and channels to characterize policy input for China’s think tanks and policy communities, but the above mentioned seven channels represent the

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main bodies for policy input. The recent developments in think tank and policy communities’ participation in the foreign policy-making process in Beijing have achieved great progress but at the same time there are also severe limitations. I call this phenomenon limited interactions between the inner and outer circles (quannei and quanwai). The limitation is largely from two sources. First, the nature of Chinese society is not completely open and remains authoritarian in nature, meaning it lacks a proper environment for true policy debate, particularly on sensitive issues. Second, think tanks and policy communities by and large have quanwai status and rarely have the chance to function in the quannei circle due to the lack of personnel switches between policy-making organs and intellectual institutions. One may anticipate that, as civil society continues to develop in China, there will be further demand for policy input and increasing professionalism in both governmental agencies and think tanks. It is likely that this will push scholars and policy communities to play even greater functions. In other words, the limits between the inner circle and the outer circle may become weaker in the years to come.

Notes 1 2 3 4

www1.chinesenewsnet.com/gb/index.html. www1.chinesenewsnet.com/gb/index.html. www.google.com/hostednews/ap/article/ALeqM5iHLHN2ZfU4WqrEunnl FRJNWAlKpw?docId=2a615f1e487d4d0bb263fe64025b1020. http://globalforum.homestead.com.

References Associated Press. 2010. “China allows rowdy anti-Japanese protests,” October 18, available at: www.american.edu-sis-centerforasianstudies-gfcps-index.cfm, accessed 28 February 2013. Bondiguel, Thomas and Thierry Kellner. 2009. “The impact of China’s foreign policy think tanks,” paper presented at the international conference “Global Think Tank Summit,” China Center for International Economic Exchanges, July 2–4, Beijing. Brookings Panel. 2008. See “Think Tanks in China: Growing Influence and Political Limitations,” panel discussion at the Thornton China Center of the Brookings Institution, Washington, DC, October 23, transcript available at: www.brookings.edu/~/ media/Files/events/2008/1023_china_think_tanks/20091023_china.pdf, accessed 28 February 2013. Buckley, Chris. 2002. “Evolving Roles and Increasing Influence,” The China Quarterly, 171 (September): 608–14. Buckley, Chris. 2008. “Elite China think tank issues political reform blueprint,” Reuters, February 18, available at: www.reuters.com/article/worldNews/, accessed 28 February 2013. Garrett, Banning. 2001. “China Faces, Debates, the Contradictions of Globalization,” Asian Survey, 41 (3): 409–27. Gill, Bates and James Mulvenon. 2002. “Chinese Military-Related Think Tanks and Research Institutions,” The China Quarterly, 171: 617–24.

Think tanks and policy making in China  71 Glaser, Bonnie and Evan Medeiros. 2007. “The Changing Ecology of Foreign PolicyMaking in China: The Ascension and Demise of the Theory of ‘Peaceful Rise’,” The China Quarterly, 190: 291–311. Glaser, Bonnie S. and Phillip C. Saunders. 2002. “Chinese Foreign Policy Research Institutes: Evolving Roles and Increasing Influence,” The China Quarterly, 171: 597–616. Graham, Sarah Ellen and John Robert Kelley. 2009. “U.S. Engagement in East Asia: A Case for ‘Track Two’ Diplomacy,” Foreign Policy Research Institute, (Winter): 84–6. Gries, Peter Hays. 2004. China’s New Nationalism. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press. Haas, Peter M. 1992. “Introduction: Epistemic Communities and International Policy Coordination,” International Organization, 46 (1) (Winter): 1–35. He Lee. 2002. “The Role of Think Tanks in Chinese Foreign Policy,” Problems of PostCommunism, 49 (2) (March/April): 33–43. Johnston, Alastair Iain. 2004. “Chinese Middle Class Attitudes towards International Affairs: Nascent Liberalization?” The China Quarterly, 179: 603–28. Li, Cheng. 2010. “China’s Midterm Jockeying: Gearing Up for 2012,” China Leadership Monitor, 33 (June). Liao, Xuanli. 2006. Chinese Foreign Policy Think Tanks and China’s Policy toward Japan. Hong Kong: Chinese University Press. Luo, Yuan, 2010. “PLA General: U.S. Engaging in Gunboat Diplomacy,” August 13, available at: http://english/peopledaily.com.cn/90001/90780/91343/7103900.html, accessed September 5, 2009. Misra, Kalpana. 2003. “Neo-Left and Neo-Right in Post-Tiananmen China,” Asian Survey, XLIII (5): 717–44. Naughton, Barry. 2002. “China’s Economic Think Tanks: Their Changing Role in the 1990s,” The China Quarterly, 171: 625–35. New York Times. 2005. “Chinese Threaten to use A-Bomb if US Intrudes,” July 15, available at: http://www.nytimes.com/2005/07/15/international/asia/15china.html, accessed September 5, 2009. People’s Daily. 2009. “Global Think Tank Summit Wraps up in Beijing,” July 5, available at: http://english.peopledaily.com.cn/90001/90783/91300/6693373.html, accessed September 5, 2009. Rutwich, John. 2004. “China Orders Journal Closed Over North Korea Story,” Reuters, September 21. Online, accessed 2009; no longer available. Schwartz, Frank. 2003. “What is Civil Society,” in Frank J. Schwartz and Susan J. Pharr (eds), The State of Civil Society in Japan. New York: Cambridge University Press, 2003, pp. 23–41. Schwartz, Frank and Susan Pharr (eds). 2003. The State of Civil Society in Japan. New York: Cambridge University Press. Shambaugh, David. 2002. “China’s International Relations Think Tanks: Evolving Structure and Process,” The China Quarterly, 171 (September): 575–96. Song, Qiang, Zhang Zangzang, Qiao Bian and Gu Qingsheng. 1996. Zhongguo keyi shio bu (A China That Can Say No). Beijing: Zhongua gongshang lianhe chubanshe. Song, Xiaojun, Wang Xiaodong, Huang Jisu, Song Qiang and Liu Yang. 2009. Zhongguo bu Gaoxing (Unhappy China). Nanjing: Jiangsu renmin chubanshe. Tanner, Murray Scot. 2002. “Changing Windows on a Changing China: The Evolving ‘Think Tank’ System and the Case of the Public Security Sector.” The China Quarterly, 171: 559–74.

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Tkacik, John J. 2004. “China’s ‘S & M’ Journal Goes Too Far on Korea,” The Asia Times, September 2, available at: www.asiatimes.com, accessed September 5, 2009. Wen, Ji. 2004. “Remove the Secret Curtain from ‘Governmental Think Tanks’,” Renmin Ribao, April 10: 4. Yahuda, Michael. 2006. “Chinese Foreign Policy Think Tanks and China’s Policy towards Japan,” Pacific Affairs, 79 (3) (Fall): 516. Zhang, Ye. 2003. “China’s Emerging Civil Society,” paper presented at the Brookings Institution, June. Zhang, Yunxing, trans. 2006. “China Unveils Top Ten Think Tanks,” November 9, available at: www.china.org.cn/english/government/188434.htm, accessed 28 February 2013. Zhao, Dingxin. 2002. “An Angle on Nationalism in China Today: Attitudes among Beijing Students after Belgrade 1999,” The China Quarterly, 172 (December): 885–905. Zhao, Quansheng. 1992. “Domestic Factors of Chinese Foreign Policy: From Vertical to Horizontal Authoritarianism,” The Annals of the American Academy of Political and Social Science, 519: 159–76. Zhao, Quansheng. 1996. Interpreting Chinese Foreign Policy: the Micro–Macro Linkage Approach. New York and Hong Kong: Oxford University Press. Zhu, Xufeng. 2006. “China’s Think Tanks: Roles and Characteristics,” EAI Background Brief No. 306 (October 19). Zhu, Xufeng. 2009. “The Influence of Think Tanks in the Chinese Policy Process: Different Ways and Mechanisms,” Asian Survey, 49, (2): 333–57. Zhu, Xufeng and Lan Xue. 2007. “Think Tanks in Transitional China,” Public Administration and Development, 27 (5), (November): 452–64.

5

Master planning the nation Elites and the transformation of China’s built environment David Bray

Introduction: Mrs Guo moves house Mrs Guo is about to move house but is not entirely happy with the prospect. ‘What will happen to my ducks and chickens?’ she wonders. ‘They say we can’t take them to the new place; and I don’t suppose we will be allowed to grow our own vegetables any more’, she adds, pointing beyond the duck pond to her large vegetable plot (interview, 23 November 2009). But there isn’t much Mrs Guo can do; the hamlet in which she has lived all her married life will soon be demolished and the residents moved to a brand new housing estate on the edge of a neighbouring village. Secretary Wang, Party Deputy Chief for Qinglong, an ‘administrative village’ in Jiangsu province, and the man responsible for organizing the relocation, believes the villagers will soon realize the benefits of their move: They will have modern bathrooms and kitchens with hot water and cooking gas on-tap; central heating and air conditioning; cable TV and Internet; and right beside the estate we’ve built a new community health clinic and a senior citizens’ club equipped with library, gym equipment and a games room. But this is just the first step in our master plan; over the next 5 years we will demolish and relocate another 10 small villages – the aim is to consolidate the original 14 natural villages under our jurisdiction into just three larger communities. Not only will this improve standards of living, but it will also release lots of land to be utilized in more productive ways. (Interview, 23 November 2009) Despite appearances, this is not just another one of those corrupt local land deals in which rural government officials reap huge personal profits through selling land to private developers. On the contrary, as the statement of Secretary Wang implies, the relocation of Mrs Guo and her neighbours is the first stage in a grandiose project to modernize and restructure the economy and the built environment of this administrative village. The project enjoys financial and technical support from the county and provincial governments, and is promoted

Figure 5.1 Mrs Guo’s current home Source: All photos are by the author unless otherwise indicated.

Figure 5.2 Mrs Guo’s future home

Elites and China’s built environment  75 as a model of rural development; as such, local authorities have welcomed many visitors including government officials from other parts of China, academics interested in rural affairs and even foreign researchers. But most significantly, this is not merely an isolated project dreamed up by ambitious local officials; rather, it is one of many thousands of such projects that have emerged throughout rural China in recent years under the national programme to Build a New Socialist Countryside (建设社会主义新农村) (Su 2009). This push to reconstruct rural China has been accompanied by the extension of urban planning law to the countryside: in 2008 the Urban Planning Law (城市规划法), originally issued in 1990, was revised and reissued as the Urban and Rural Planning Law (城乡规划法)(2008). Henceforth, the principles and practices of urban planning are to be applied to rural as well as urban areas. The most far-reaching implication of this change is that every administrative village in China is now required to commission and implement a ‘master plan’ for redevelopment over a 20-year horizon. Moreover, the regulatory framework that governs the production, approval and implementation of rural master plans is identical to those that apply in the cities. The result is that those producing the new rural master plans are the same cohort of professional urban planners that have been responsible for ‘master-planning’ city redevelopment over recent years. The arrival of urban planning at Qinglong village has not gone as smoothly as local authorities might have hoped. Mrs Guo’s resistance to moving into the new housing estate derives from her realization that such a move will necessitate a major change in lifestyle; while she gets a new home with many modern conveniences, she loses the right to keep chickens and ducks, and will have no land on which to grow vegetables and no pond in which to raise fish. In short, Mrs Guo is not particularly attracted by the mode of life that comes with the fancy new ‘master plan’. In the end, however, Mrs Guo will probably have no option: her lifestyle preferences cannot stand against the combined forces of government authorities and professional experts and the imposition of their particular vision for the modernization of China’s built environment. But where does this vision come from and what is its purpose? In this chapter I will explore the origins of contemporary discourses of ‘master planning’ in China and demonstrate how these discourses manifest in different realms of the built environment.

Elites and the built environment My interest in elites lies not in who they are, or even in how they rose to the positions they hold, but rather in what they actually do as elites: in this respect, my academic concern is most particularly focused on their role as technical experts and producers of knowledge – in this case, within the discipline of urban planning. Urban planning is both a field of knowledge and a set of practices. As a field of knowledge it attempts to constitute the urban as an object that can be known and understood; as a system of practices it aims to intervene

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in and transform the urban environment for specific purposes. Urban planning makes it possible for new forms of space to be designed and created which bolster particular governmental objectives; through intervening into the fabric of the built environment, spatial form itself becomes an important component of governance, leading to what I call the spatialization of government (Bray 2005, pp. 66–93). My theoretical framework is strongly influenced by Michel Foucault’s work on power/knowledge (1980) and ‘governmentality’ (1991), and by Bruno Latour’s work on the sociology of science and technology (1987). Following Foucault, I argue that in China a dominant elite discourse of urban planning has emerged in recent years and that this discourse defines, informs, structures and governmentalizes the ongoing transformation of China’s built environment. Following Latour, I contend that the practical creation and implementation of urban plans involves a networked assemblage of actors, including professional planners, government officials (at all levels), property developers, local citizens and the built environment itself – Latour is adamant that things as well as people can have agency (Latour 2005). The relationships between these agents are complex, contradictory and at times conflicting, reflecting diverse attitudes toward the built environment, both with regard to the envisioning of its transformation and to the process for achieving the transformation. However, the ultimate outcome of these interactions is the emergence of a dominant discourse and practice, albeit one that is under constant renegotiation. That the built environment has agency is a point that has been explored and promoted by an influential school within the subfield of urban geography; in particular, I build upon the work of theorists like Henri Lefebvre (1991), David Harvey (1973), Edward Soja (1989) and Paul Rabinow (1989). Perhaps the most succinct statement of the perspective that underpins this school of urban research comes from Harvey’s early work on Social Justice and the City: The general point should be clear: the only adequate conceptual framework for understanding the city is one which encompasses and builds upon both the sociological and geographical imaginations. We must relate social behaviour to the way in which the city assumes a certain geography, a certain spatial form. We must recognize that once a particular spatial form is created it tends to institutionalize and, in some respects, to determine the future development of social process. (Harvey 1973, p. 27) From this perspective the urban planner has enormous power and influence: s/he not only determines the form and structure of the built environment, but in doing so has a long- term impact on the social relationships and behaviour of those who will live and work within those spaces for many years to come. In this context, the practice of urban planning takes on huge significance: how urban planners understand the object of their intervention, and how they bring

Elites and China’s built environment  77 their expertise to bear in creating master plans will greatly shape the social, economic and even political landscape of the future. In contemporary China, where the built environment is undergoing massive expansion, redevelopment and reconstruction, the urban planner has risen to heights of influence seldom seen since the days of Baron von Haussmann’s dramatic interventions into the urban fabric of Paris (Pinkney 1958). But in China the planner’s universe is even larger, as the realm of planning now extends from the cities into the countryside, as described above, granting the urban planners unprecedented scope to write their visions of modernity across the face of the entire nation. This chapter will focus primarily on the origins and characteristics of the dominant urban planning discourse that has emerged within China in recent years. First, I will demonstrate how the close relationship between government and planning professionals has led to the development of a highly unified dominant discourse centred on a particular understanding of modernity and a particular vision for the built environment. In this context I explore how the concept of ‘master planning’ has been defined in China and how closely its scaling mirrors the hierarchical political jurisdictions of the Chinese state. In the second section I examine attempts to popularize this elitist planning discourse, particularly through discussion of the Urban Planning Exhibition Centres (城市规划展览馆), which have appeared in numerous cities in recent years, and the strategies they use to present urban transformation as the fulfilment of a utopian modernist vision for the future. Third, I address the question of residential development, showing how a very specific model for housing, the xiaoqu (小区), emerged under governmental guidance in the 1980s; I analyse its characteristics and the implications of this model for the social and political restructuring of urban China. In the following section, continuing the focus on residential estates, I look at the role of the residential developer, their relationship to government and to planning, and the ongoing role they play in the management of residential communities. Because my interest in this chapter is focused on analysing the significance and implications of the dominant discourse of urban planning, I do not attempt to assess the origins, size or biographies of the actual elite agents involved in the creation and perpetuation of this discourse. Suffice to say, the elites to whom I refer comprise a range of built environment professionals, associated government officials and property developers engaged across a number of fields of activity. These include professionally trained and qualified urban planners and architects working for government design institutes, Urban Planning Exhibition Centres, local government departments, or for developers in the private sector; academic urban planners and architects who, through teaching and research publications, reproduce, modify and transmit the dominant discourse throughout the built environment professions; government officials in the Ministry of Housing and Urban–Rural Development (住房和城乡建设部) (formerly the Ministry of Construction) and its subordinate bureaus at provincial, city and local levels of government, who regulate, monitor and manage the construction and reconstruction of built environments; and private

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developers, who furnish much of the capital and entrepreneurial initiative required to realize new construction projects. Below I demonstrate the different roles played by each of these elite groupings in the creation, regulation, management and construction of a distinct model of built environment based on a very specific discourse of urban planning.

Master planning Five years ago in Beijing I met the man assigned the task of developing a master plan for the entire nation (全国城镇体系规划). He is an urban planner by training and a section chief in the Chinese Academy of Urban Planning and Design. Previously he had worked on planning projects at the city and urban district levels and had a particular interest in the conservation of historical urban neighbourhoods. On the face of it, nothing in his training or previous experience had prepared him for the extraordinary assignment of master planning the whole nation. However, when we consider the genealogy of planning in China, it turns out that the concept of a national master plan is simply the extension of a generalized and systematized set of concepts to a larger scale. Although the concept of a national master plan might bring to mind Maoist era practices of central planning, the immediate impetus for this policy initiative derives from the new ‘Urban and Rural Planning Law’ (城乡规划法) enacted on 1 January 2008 (Geng 2008, pp. 45–54). The most important effect of the revised law is to extend the territorial remit of urban planning dramatically in both directions: as the new title of the revised law suggests, urban planning is now to be applied to rural as well as urban areas. Specifically, this means that township (zhen) and village (cunzhuang) planning, which had hitherto been covered under a range of other piecemeal central and local regulations, are henceforth to be brought into the mainstream of urban planning law (Article 2). Second, the new law also requires that the techniques of urban master planning be applied to territorial units that transcend the individual city itself; hence it stipulates procedures for the State Council to commission the development of master plans at provincial, regional and indeed national scales (Article 12). At first glance it may seem that the two extremes of scale in the new planning law – the village and the nation – are so far removed from each other as to render the planning schema nonsensical. But there is a strong thread of logic holding the edifice together: namely, that if the new planning law is to attempt to regulate all human settlements, from cities to villages, then it might make sense also to plan the spaces in-between and their relationships to each other. Of course, the nature of the planning at the two extremes is very different: village, town and city plans detail specific land-uses and the arrangement of infrastructure and services, as well as including detailed plans for actual sites – at this level we are talking about the actual design of space, whereas provincial, regional and national plans are more of a ‘strategic’ or ‘systems’ nature, concerned principally in planning the larger functional and dynamic

Elites and China’s built environment  79 relationships between places. One of the principle objectives of the new national master plan, for example, is to plan how the key regions (Pearl River Delta, Yangtze Delta, Bohai and Chongqing/Chengdu) will relate to each other, and to develop strategic plans to facilitate the coordinated development of other parts of the country like the West and Southwest (Geng 2008). The planning system mandated in the new law should not, of course, be considered in isolation; since the logic that underpins it derives from a number of policy initiatives and theoretical innovations that predate its release. On the policy front, the most crucial influence has been the national program known as ‘Building a New Socialist Countryside’ (建设社会主义新农村). Launched by Hu Jintao in January 2006 as a major component of the 11th Five-YearPlan, this programme is designed to promote development and modernization in rural areas in order to break down both the economic and the conceptual barriers that divide rural and urban society.1 Following this logic, the first article of the new planning law states its objectives as: ‘to coordinate urban and rural spatial order; to improve living conditions; and to promote the fully coordinated and sustainable economic and social development of urban and rural areas.’ Extending the concepts, practices, resources and expertise of urban planning to the countryside is seen as one way to begin addressing the urban/rural divide. More specifically, according to some authorities, the redesign of the rural built environment will have a spiritual as well as material impact on rural inhabitants: of the so-called ‘five new things’ (五新) to be created, the first three are material: new housing, new infrastructure and new environment, while the last two are spiritual: new farmers (that is, farmers will be made into better people through training, education and raising their suzhi) and new customs (built around strengthening understandings of science, culture and law) (An et al. 2009a, p. 11). Another important factor in the expansion of planning practice to the countryside relates to the National Land Resource Law (国土资源法), and specifically the policy to preserve a definite amount of agricultural land in order to guarantee food security for China. Thus, a key priority in the programme for ‘building a new countryside’ is to try to ensure that rural land is utilized more efficiently and the continual encroachments on agricultural land are brought to a halt. The hope is that through proper planning, village residential and industrial land-use can be consolidated and reduced, and agricultural land can be protected and even expanded. One of the practical strategies for achieving this outcome is to concentrate the rural population into larger and denser settlements; Jiangsu province, for example, has devised a provincial plan to amalgamate its 289,000 ‘natural’ villages (自然村) into 20,330 ‘central’ villages (中心村) and 31,100 ‘basic’ villages (基层村); the objective of the plan is to reduce the amount of land used for residential purposes by about 50 per cent, thereby releasing around 3 million mu (200,000 hectares) of land for other purposes (An et al. 2009b, p. 47). As described above, the reasons Guo has to move home is precisely due to the implementation of this policy – Qinglong Administrative Village is beginning the process of amalgamating its original

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14 ‘natural’ villages into three central villages. Such programmes are by no means isolated to Jiangsu; I have had access to the master plan for a town (zhen) in Hebei province, which calls for the 45 natural villages under the town’s jurisdiction to be amalgamated into 11 central villages – some will be consolidated into the town itself. While such projects seem draconian and will no doubt incur high social costs, there is also a form of incentive scheme built into the policy: with tight restrictions against converting agricultural land to other purposes, the only way for an ambitious village to develop further non-agricultural industry is through reducing the village footprint itself; the reclaimed land can then be used for non-agricultural purposes. Following the logic of this policy, villages are beginning to shift from horizontal to vertical forms (Luo et al. 2008). These major developments in rural policy have seen commensurate bureaucratic restructuring: the former Ministry of Construction (建设部) has been reorganized and renamed the Ministry of Housing and Urban–Rural Construction (住房与城乡建设部). The new law also reflects an attempt to achieve higher levels of coordination across a range of key fields, as expressed through the doctrine of ‘the 5 types of coordinated planning’ (5个统筹), first outlined during the 3rd Plenum of the 16th Central Committee in October 2003: 1 2 3 4 5

(统筹城乡发展) coordinated planning of urban and rural development; (统筹区域发展) coordinated planning of regional development; (统筹经济社会发展) coordinated planning of economic and social development; (统 筹 人 与 自 然 和 谐 发 展 ) coordinated planning of the harmonious development of humans and nature; (统筹国内发展和对外开放的要求) coordinated planning of domestic development and the demands of opening to the outside world.

In this context the reorganization and extension of the urban planning system into both larger and smaller territorial scales speaks to a governmental desire that development of the built environment should not only be aimed at addressing rural disadvantage, but also at improving social, environmental, regional and international outcomes. That China’s leadership express this level of faith in the possibilities of planning, highlights the underlying philosophical logic that informs many contemporary policy initiatives: namely, Hu Jintao’s much promoted gloss on Marxism/Leninism, the ‘theory of scientific development’ (科学发展观) (Hu 2003). Notwithstanding anti-scientific periods during some Maoist political campaigns, the CCP has, of course, long been a firm believer in the power of modern science and technology to solve all manner of problems. The contemporary CCP leadership itself personifies this trend, the standing committee of the Politburo being made up almost completely of engineers. But the advent of this new ‘theory of scientific development’ seems to have pushed this Chinese strain of scientism to even higher levels of influence.

Elites and China’s built environment  81 Recent urban planning texts and journal articles are suffused with references to the ‘theory of scientific development’. Initially, I was sceptical about this apparent trend and assumed that mention of the new ‘theory’ was merely formulaic acknowledgment of current political jargon. However, when I asked planners about their views on this theoretical innovation I found nothing but universal enthusiastic support for the ‘theory’. The reason is that planners are engaged in constant struggles with clients – inevitably local governments – over the content of urban plans; local government officials are primarily concerned with promoting economic development, while planners have to consider a range of non-economic factors such as environmental protection, protection of historical buildings, the provision of appropriate public services and facilities, and so on. From the planners’ perspective, the ‘theory of scientific development’ further strengthens their side of the argument with government officials; the more that their professional practice is classified as ‘science’ and is validated and endorsed by senior leadership, the more they feel empowered to promote what they view as appropriate scientific planning principles. For planners, the ‘theory of scientific development’ is a vitally important strategic tool against local political machinations, but perhaps, more importantly, it underscores the belief that urban planning is a science. When I challenged several planners on this point, the most I could get them to concede was that it is an ‘experimental science’; none were willing to agree that it shouldn’t be thought of as a science at all. It seems somewhat of a paradox in contemporary China that just as faith in economic planning has declined, belief in the possibility of scientifically planning the built environment has resurfaced with all the certitude it enjoyed during apogee of ‘high modernism’ in the first half of the twentieth century.

Urban Planning Exhibition Centres Perhaps the most coherent and accessible representation of the current discourse of scientific planning can be found in the rapidly proliferating Urban Planning Exhibition Centres. Shanghai was the first to build one (opened in February 2000), but many other cities have subsequently followed the lead including: Beijing, Nanjing, Tianjin and Hangzhou. It is in these sites that we find the ‘elite’ discourses of planning – those generated through government agencies, academic and professional planners – presented for the consumption and education of the wider public. In one respect, these centres function as tourist attractions and vehicles for promoting the city to prospective investors; but in addition to the famous scale models of the city, these centres are full of educational displays explaining various facets of urban planning to the public, and I have often witnessed school groups and army groups being taken through the exhibitions on guided tours. According to a recent article published in China’s premier planning journal, Urban Planning Exhibition Centres ‘act as a stage for marketing a city’s urban identity, a platform of academic communication, and are important to citizen participation in urban planning’ (Tang and Gu 2009, p. 10). But in their

Figure 5.3 Scale model of Nanjing: Nanjing City Urban Planning Exhibition Centre

Figure 5.4 Information display on ‘Community Public Infrastructure’: Nanjing City Urban Planning Exhibition Centre

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explanation of the logic they applied in designing the layout of exhibitions for the Hangzhou Centre, the authors place most emphasis on public education as the core objective: Urban planning is a comprehensive discipline touching on numerous aspects of society including politics, economics, geography, culture, the environment and architecture; moreover the planning process is made up of many links including drafting, approval, policy and management. Because of this, the urban planning centre should do its best to provide a comprehensive introduction to all facets of planning, to ensure that the audience gains a complete understanding. (Tang and Gu 2009, p. 11) In reaching the target audience, primarily local citizens, the designers have to be careful in how the wide-ranging and complex material is presented: If all they see is specialist jargon and technical diagrams, then the ordinary people (老百姓) simply won’t understand it and you won’t achieve the objectives of dissemination, education, participation and supervision (宣传,教育, 参与, 监督). For this reason the exhibitions should utilize simple language and imagery styles that are familiar to the common people. (Tang and Gu 2009, p. 11) In addition to consideration of how the material is pitched to the audience, the authors also argue that the ordering and structure of the exhibition are crucial. Based on their research into the experiences of other centres (Shanghai, Beijing and Nanjing) they decided that in Hangzhou the exhibition should be divided into three key themes: ‘time’, focusing on the chronological development of the city through the eyes of the planner; ‘space’, focusing on how the city is organized spatially and plans for future expansion, development and restructuring; and ‘hierarchy’, focusing on planning and development at local jurisdictional levels such as districts, counties and residential communities (Tang and Gu 2009, p. 12). Under these themes it is vitally important for the content of the exhibitions to demonstrate the logic and reasoning behind the various policies and developments. For example, the authors explain that the displays relating to the city’s past were explicitly designed not to resemble museum exhibits, which simply show what the past looked like; rather the content is structured to narrate the role played by urban planning in the development of the city. Similarly, in the sections depicting contemporary and future policy developments, the exhibitions are designed to illustrate the connection between the logical reasoning behind various policies and the concrete outcomes that have been (or will be) achieved. Finally, the authors claim that the Hangzhou exhibition is also structured to demonstrate the systematic nature of urban planning; thus, in the section titled ‘Reading

Elites and China’s built environment  85 Hangzhou’, the display begins with the master plan for the entire city, then, step-by-step, breaks the plan down into its constituent specialist fields – housing, transport, public infrastructure, environment, power and communication grids, and so on (Tang and Gu 2009, p. 15). Tang and Gu’s elaboration of the thinking behind the design of the Hangzhou centre confirms my own observations through multiple visits to Urban Planning Exhibition Centres in various cities: the overwhelming message is that urban planning is a rational and scientific process and that its interventions will continuously achieve new improvements in the standard of the built environment and in the quality of urban life. Of course, this message is also intended to earn a political dividend; for many citizens, contemporary urban redevelopments are causing huge upheaval and disruption to their everyday lives, leading to the outbreak of numerous protest and petition movements. For these people, the clear message is that the planners know what they are doing and while the present may be chaotic, the future will be much better. This belief in the promise of the future, a characteristic of modernism since the early twentieth century but now confined largely to the realm of nostalgia in the West, is very much alive and well and living in China. Thomas Campanella (2008, p. 57) describes the Shanghai Urban Planning Exhibition Centre as ‘a temple of urban futurism’, while Tang and Gu (2009, p. 12) assert that ‘planning centres absolutely face the future’. Futurism manifests in many of the exhibitions, especially in the interactive digital information technology

Figure 5.5 Interactive digital exhibitions: Hangzhou Urban Planning Exhibition Centre

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displays that are increasingly adopted as mediums for the dissemination of educative material. Visitors can play with touch-screens that reveal different features of urban infrastructure or search for their own residential district to discover how it links into various types of urban networks. Less interactive, but equally impressive, the newer planning centres (Nanjing and Hangzhou) have augmented the standard scale model of the city with multimedia audiovisual shows that tell the city’s story of rebirth from today to tomorrow on a large screen while employing elaborate lighting techniques to illuminate appropriate features across the 3-D cityscape. When the scientific and positivistic optimism of the planners is combined with the latest high-tech wizardry to reveal the wonders of grandiose plans for high-speed transport or environmentally sensitive eco-cities, the discursive effect is to validate a form of utopian futurism that is seldom found anywhere else in the world. In this discourse, the urban planner is king and the subject population gaze in awe at the brave new modern world in the process of creation.

Xiaoqu part I: the planner Rem Koolhaas, designer of the infamous new CCTV headquarters, attributes the extraordinary pace and scale of urban development in China over recent years to two factors: first, to the political will of an authoritarian state and what he calls its ‘ruthless optimism’ (Dolphijn 2005a); and second to crucial technological innovations – AutoCAD and PhotoShop – which enable that ‘ruthless optimism’ to be realized rapidly on astonishing scales (Dolphijn 2005b). It is this ability to cut-and-paste ad infinitum that facilitates the link between discourses of urban planning and design, and the appearance throughout China’s cities (and increasingly countryside as well) of highly standardized, large-scale residential estates or xiaoqu (小区). In order to better understand how this mode of residential design is conceptualized, in 2008 I attended (and at times, participated in) a fourth-year studio class on residential design at a leading national school of architecture and urban planning. What follows is an edited summary of the first class of the semester as delivered by Professor X. This semester our class will design a new residential area (xiaoqu) for a specific piece of land the XX City planning bureau has recently designated for redevelopment. This piece of land, on the south-eastern outskirts of the city is actually occupied by a village, but in the city master plan it has been designated for residential redevelopment; of course, that means multi-storey urban-style housing. As you all know, the master plan determines land-use and broad strategic goals for development. Then we have detailed plans; for residential sites we have two levels of detailed plans: first what we call the residential district (居住区), then below that the residential small district (居住小区); the latter, of course, is the basic unit for residential planning and design. Many residential districts will be made

Elites and China’s built environment  87 up of several xiaoqu; in other cases, like this class project, you have a stand-alone xiaoqu. OK, now we have our piece of land, we need to start thinking about the general principles of residential planning and housing design. You will read and hear a lot of theory on planning residential areas but the principles are actually very simple. [He draws a large square on the blackboard.] You start, of course, with a piece of land – the size can vary – but generally speaking residential areas are usually 10–15 hectares (25–40 acres), contain 3,000–5,000 apartment units (10,000–15,000 people) and are enclosed by a wall or fence. The first issue to consider is the layout of roads within the site. The basic idea is to have entrance points from each of the four sides of the site, but the roads should not be straight-through roads because you don’t want to have outsiders driving through the residential area as a shortcut to the other side. There are a number of possible layouts, but the most common is for each of the four entrance roads to lead from the gate to a central circular road that links them all together. OK, now we have the roads in place it gives a clear structure to the site, dividing it neatly into four outer areas and one central area. Each of the four outer areas can then contain a cluster of apartment buildings (zutuan) while the central area can be utilized for public open space and

Figure 5.6 Two variant plans for a xiaoqu drawn on a whiteboard during an urban planning class

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The model of residential planning outlined here by Professor X can be found, in rather more detail, in any of the urban planning textbooks and manuals published over the last two decades in China (for example, Wang 2007; Zhu 2007). This is a very specific model of urban residential development, and while it has become ubiquitous in China to the point of near universality, it is, of course, a model that has a very particular genealogy and is designed to achieve some very specific outcomes. The basic features of this model can summarized as follows: they are built to a uniform scale, 3,000–5,000 households; they are enclosed by a wall or fence with a limited number of entrance points; they include a range of public facilities: landscaped gardens, medical clinic, kindergarten, elementary school, exercise equipment, community centre, convenience shops, police post, and so on (Lü et al. 2001). Moreover, in the development of this model planners and designers were also enjoined to facilitate the promotion of certain community values such as social cohesion, neighbourliness, identity, sense of belonging, feeling of security, harmonious society and spiritual civilization (Zhu 2007, p. 31). The genealogy of this residential model can be traced back to the Soviet influence on China in the 1950s and to the work unit or danwei system that dominated urban China through the Mao era until the mid-1990s (Bray, 2005); but the more recent origins of the contemporary xiaoqu derive from several years of experimentation trials and national design competitions, beginning in the 1980s, culminating in the creation of a new raft of technical specifications, developed in order to define and regulate the urban housing construction industry (Zou 2001, pp. 459–65). Landmark documents in this process include the 1985 State Council Blue Paper on Technological Policies of China; and the Ministry of Construction’s Design Standards for Urban Residential Areas (1993) and Management Methods for Newly Built Urban Residential Xiaoqu (1994). The model for residential design presented by Professor X, then, is the result of a long period of development sponsored, monitored, refined, systematized and regulated by state agencies of urban planning and construction. However, while this model is invariably taught and presented in China through a highly technical discourse focusing on design and construction specifications, it is crucial to bear in mind that it was developed primarily to enable the formation, governance and policing of a particular kind of new community (Bray 2006). The most obvious way in which spatial design facilitates policing in new residential estates is through monitoring and regulating entrance into the xiaoqu compounds. The entrance gates are staffed 24 hours a day by security guards. While having guards at their gates no doubt enhance residents’ sense of security, it is also a constant reminder to them that they live within a highly

Elites and China’s built environment  89 surveyed residential space and that their own activities may be subject to regular scrutiny. Policing of residential space is also enabled through the enhanced visibility that results from the formal and regularized symmetrical arrangement of architectural elements within the compounds. Building clusters will normally be linked together by wide boulevards running between the entrance gates, and providing quick and easy access to all parts of the compound. These spatial arrangements render the open spaces of the xiaoqu remarkably transparent to the gaze of anyone who cares to notice. Security within the xiaoqu is further augmented by the utilization of both human and technological means of surveillance. In the more affluent residential estates CCTV is a common feature, with security guards on constant duty monitoring the screens in control rooms usually located adjacent to the main entrance gate. Finally, public spaces within the xiaoqu are generally landscaped in ways designed to provide an uplifting and peaceful environment, to promote the appreciation of cultural refinement and to encourage civilized behavior by all (Bray 2008).

Xiaoqu part II: the developer In July 2005 the government-run magazine Community (Shequ) published an article entitled ‘A Developer who Creates Ideal Communities’. The subject of this piece was Mao Yonghong, CEO of Peaceful Homes (Anju), a real-estate company based in the central inland city of Wuhan. The article focused on Mao’s role in the construction and management of a new residential area known as Baibuting. Built on land previously occupied by paddy fields, fish ponds and swamp, Mao and his company became involved in the project around 1995 after several previous developers had failed to make any progress on the site. According to the article, Mao was undaunted by the scale of the project because: He had a dream; he had always wanted to create a modern ‘garden of Eden’ where ordinary people could live and work in peace, where no one would take anything that didn’t belong to them and where residents need not lock their doors at night . . . Before commencing construction however, he spent almost two years undertaking research and consultation; he sent people to Shanghai and Shenzhen to investigate latest housing trends and even crossed the seas to Europe for ideas. He made sure all in the company clearly understood that this project was not just about constructing a group of buildings but rather was about creating a new form of community . . . While overseas he discovered that German communities were managed particularly well, for example there were strict regulations on the placement of air conditioners and the maintenance of private gardens; any who disobeyed the rules where harshly fined. Germans utilized strict management to standardize people’s behaviour and thereby raise the level of civilization throughout society. In China the situation was quite

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Construction finally commenced in 1997 and by 2005 (when this article was published) 1.2 million square metres of housing had been completed and over 40,000 new residents had moved into the six separate enclosed compounds (xiaoqu) that together constitute the Baibuting development. The remainder of the article outlines Mao Yonghong’s efforts, and apparent success, in establishing a comprehensive and effective management system to govern the new community. In particular, the authors focus on his evidently tireless efforts to ensure the security and safety of the community, the welfare of its residents and the orderliness of its environment. One passage especially underscores the devotion of Mao the developer to his community: In the depth of night when all is quiet Mao Yonghong takes a stroll through Baibuting. He has just returned from a ceremony where he was awarded the May 1st Medal as a National Model Worker, but despite the late hour the first thing he does is to go for a walk around the community. ‘Hmm, not bad,’ he thinks, ‘the roads are very clean; no cigarette butts or rubbish; the grass and trees have all been watered and the shrubs have been nicely trimmed.’ But his mind is still not entirely at ease; so he goes further into the compound to check the public areas between the apartment buildings, the rubbish bins and the clothes lines – just in case anyone has forgotten to collect his clothes off the line. This careful inspection is like a home-owner who makes sure that the doors and windows are all locked before retiring to bed each night. In Mao Yonghong’s heart he believes that Baibuting is his home; so no matter how tired or busy, every night he will go into the community to check that all is well. (Liu and Zhang, 2005, p. 6) This article, of course, contains elements of propaganda and presents a hagiographic version of Mao Yonghong’s life: the developer as hero. But it is precisely for this reason that the article is significant: it provides us a window

Elites and China’s built environment  91 into official discourses of contemporary urban development. Mao Yonghong’s story is important because it shows how the complexities and problems of urban housing development can be resolved into a systematic and orderly scientific process: Mao transcends the messy and uncoordinated property development of the past through combining planning, construction, management and governance under the leadership of a single, enlightened figure. In achieving this he exemplifies a new style of leadership: first, he carries political authority, as Party Secretary both for the company he leads and, subsequently, for the entire community he builds, he is the fulcrum through which party and government policies are transmitted into practice at the local community level; second, he represents a high level of technical expertise, bringing a systematic and scientific methodology to solving the many problems inherent in the planning, construction and management of a new residential area; third, he is a successful businessman, who in bringing the Baibuting project to fruition, was able to triumph where numerous other developers had failed; in this sense he exemplifies just the kind of entrepreneurial and managerial quality that the party have sought to champion and coopt in recent years; finally, through his devotion to the community itself, he shows a kind of compassion and concern for the people, embodying a form of ‘pastoral care’ that has become increasingly valorized in government efforts to promote what they refer to as civilized, well-governed and harmonious communities. Governments in China clearly do not see new residential communities as merely dormitories for the urban population; rather they view these places as sites through which active governmental engagement can lead to the creation of a new kind of community built around a particular vision of modernity and civilization. As Mao Yonghong’s story attests, governmental engagement goes far beyond the realm of simply policing and administering the new community – government engages in the entire process from conception to completion through a considered and sophisticated discourse that explicitly links the earliest phases of urban master planning with the final strategies of community governance.

Conclusions The expansion of urban planning into the countryside marks a major escalation in China’s ongoing project to modernize its built environment. At the same time, it seems to mark the beginning of the end for a distinctive rural way of life: why? Because a powerful and persuasive discourse of planning has taken shape within China over the last two decades that has defined the modernization of the built environment through a very specific and narrow framework. Add to this the deeply held perception that ‘rural’ equates to ‘backwardness’ and that the only solution to rural disadvantage is urbanization and it is not difficult to see why the village as we know it will soon become an endangered species. The discourse of planning that has conquered China’s cities and will soon overrun its countryside is the product, as I have shown in this chapter,

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of complex interrelationships between government authorities, professional urban planners, corporate property developers and the built environment itself. This unique assemblage of agents has conspired to bequeath to contemporary China a model of development centred on the creation of large-scale communities that manifest as both the basic spatial unit of the built environment (the enclosed xiaoqu) and the basic social/political unit of local governance. In my view, this coincidence is far from fortuitous; rather, it reflects the extent to which discourses of urban planning in China are infused with social and political considerations within a technocratic regime that deploys the mastery of science and the techniques of modernization as key tools in its repertoire of governing strategies. Under such circumstances, this paradigm of development seems set to dominate the foreseeable future as urban planners seize an unprecedented opportunity to write their visions of modernity in concrete, steel and soft landscaping across the face of the entire nation.

Note 1

For Chinese government information on this policy see: http://english.gov.cn/ special/rd_index.htm.

References An, G., Zhang, E. and An, Y. (2009a). (安国辉, 张二东, 安蕴梅) 村庄建设规划设计 (Planning and Design for Village Construction). Beijing: 中国农业出版社 (China Rural Publishing House). An, G., Zhang, E. and An, Y. (2009b). (安国辉, 张二东, 安蕴梅) 村庄规划与管理 (Village Planning and Management). Beijing: 中国农业出版社 (China Rural Publishing House). Bray, D. (2005). Social Space and Governance in Urban China: The Danwei System from Origins to Reform. Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press. Bray, D. (2006). ‘Building “Community”: New Strategies of Governance in Urban China’. Economy and Society, 35 (4), 530–49. Bray, D. (2008). ‘Designing to Govern: Space and Power in Two Wuhan Communities’. Built Environment, 34 (4), 392–407. Campanella, T. J. (2008). The Concrete Dragon: China’s Urban Revolution and What It Means for the World (1st edn). New York: Princeton Architectural Press. Dolphijn, R. (2005a). ‘Warchitecture’. IIAS Newsletter, 39: 20. Dolphijn, R. (2005b). ‘Welcome to Photoshopolis’. IIAS Newsletter, 39: 21. Foucault, M. (1980). Power/Knowledge: Selected Interviews and Other Writings, 1972–1977 (C. Gordon, trans. 1st American edn). New York: Pantheon Books. Foucault, M. (1991). ‘Governmentality’. In G. Burchell, C. Gordon and P. Miller (eds), The Foucault Effect: Studies in Governmentality. London: Harvester Wheatsheaf, pp. 87–104. Geng, H. (2008). (耿慧志) 城乡规划法规概论 (An Introduction to Urban and Rural Planning Law). Shanghai: 同济大学出版社 (Tongji University Press). Harvey, D. (1973). Social Justice and the City. London: Edward Arnold. Hu, J. (2003). Speech delivered 28 July 高举中国特色社会主义伟大旗帜为夺取全面建设 小康社会新胜利而奋斗, (‘Raise high the great banner of socialism with Chinese

Elites and China’s built environment  93 characteristics in the struggle to achieve a new victory in the construction of an allround moderately affluent society’). Latour, B. (1987). Science in Action: How to Follow Scientists and Engineers through Society. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Latour, B. (2005). Reassembling the Social: An Introduction to Actor-Network Theory. Oxford, New York: Oxford University Press. Lefebvre, H. (1991). The Production of Space. Oxford, Cambridge, MA: Blackwell. Liu, Q. and Zhang, J. (2005). (刘骞, 张继涛) 一个创建理想社区的开发商 (‘A Developer Who Creates Ideal Communities’). 社区 (Community), 99: 6–9. Lü, J., Rowe, P. G. and Zhang, J. (2001). Modern Urban Housing in China 1840–2000. Munich: Prestel. Luo, Z., Zhang, H. and Guo, B. (2008). (骆中钊, 张惠芳, 郭炳南) 新农村建设规划理念 (Planning Theory for Building a New Countryside). Beijing: 中国社会出版社 (China Social Press). Pinkney, D.H. (1958). Napoleon III and the Rebuilding of Paris. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press. Rabinow, P. (1989). French Modern: Norms and Forms of the Social Environment. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press. Soja, E.W. (1989). Postmodern Geographies: The Reassertion of Space in Critical Social Theory. London, New York: Verso. Su, M. (2009). China’s Rural Development Policy: Exploring the ‘New Socialist Countryside’. Boulder, CO: First Forum Press. Tang, H. and Gu, Q. (2009). (汤海孺, 顾倩) 城市规划展览馆布展策划研究：以杭州为例 (‘Study of Urban Planning Exhibition Hall Strategy: A Case Study of Hangzhou’). 规划师 (Planners), 25 (5): 10–16. Wang, Q. (2007). (王 庆 海 ) 现 代 城 市 规 划 与 管 理 (Modern City Planning and Management). Beijing: 中国建筑工业出版社 (China Architecture Press). Zhu, J.E. (ed.). (2007). (朱家瑾) 居住区规划设计 (Planning and Design of Residential Areas). Beijing: 中国建筑工业出版社 (China Architecture Press). Zou, D. (2001). (邹德侬) 中国现代建筑史 (A History of Modern Architecture in China). Tianjin: 天津科学技术出版社 (Tianjin Science and Technology Press).

6

Community governance and elite activism in urban China Chunrong Liu

Introduction There has been a visible reconstruction of state power in China’s urban grassroots since 2000, as the government-led Residents’ Committee (RC) has been deliberatively restructured through direct election and a range of participatory experiments in the national scheme of “urban community building” (UCB). This transformation has caught considerable scholarly interests, not only because they have echoed the normative concern about participatory governance, but also because they have been perceived to be a new starting point for bottom-up democratization in China. Scholars have proposed some arguments about the impact of urban grassroots political changes. Some of them have focused on its empowering effect on China’s nascent civil society, arguing that the RC election and selfgovernance initiatives would raise consciousness about popular rights, generate community autonomy and solidarity, and breed neighborhood activism (Liu 2008; Xu and Li 2003; Derlethy and Koldky 2004), thereby contributing to democratization in the PRC (Lin 2003; Keng et al. 2008). Other scholars have questioned this argument and claimed that UCB have paved the way for local state penetration instead of promoting democracy building (Zhu 1999; Li 2004). Even for urban Chinese residents who are enfranchised and feel empowered to participate in neighborhood politics, they tend to interact with the RC based on “thin reciprocity,” and may not demand additional avenues for political participation (Read 2003a). Much neglected in this debate is the inquiry about whether and how these grassroots governance innovations can engage elites or “advantageous groups” (qiangshi qunti) in urban China. A salient characteristic of these individuals is that, even if they do not directly participate in neighborhood affairs, they are able to take action to shape community life as resource providers. Their influence is an important arena of state–societal interaction which reflects broader sociopolitical trends in post-1978 China. From a comparative perspective, elite engagement at local governance, such as what King (1975) termed “administrative absorption of politics” in colonial Hong Kong, is essential to produce political stability and governability in the authoritarian context.

Elite activism in urban China  95 Academic research on the causes of elite involvement in neighborhood politics is limited. The primary reason for this seems to be an overly pessimistic perspective on the neighborhood as a meaningful setting for elite participation. Indeed, empirical studies of the neighborhood political process in urban China have consistently revealed a fragmented feature of a bottom-up involvement with a low likelihood of engagement by elite residents. The RC functions as a government-sponsored administrative engagement institution, but it does not claim mass membership and most participants are ephemerally involved (Read 2003a). The RC-centered neighborhood politics seems to be especially irrelevant to elite groups, which was portrayed by Domhoff (1990) as being comprised of moderate conservatives and ultraconservatives (see also Mills 1956). Elites may typically show a negative attitude with regard to efficacy in community participation. Yet, despite much apathy and cynicism, not all elites abstain from neighborhood politics. Even in a gated community where residents are supposed to be more autonomous because of private homeownership, some degrees of elite involvement in RC-led activities may occur. For example, in Shanghai, it was reported that more than 70 prominent individuals volunteered as representatives to the “Community Action Council,” an RC-led consultant group for conflict mediation in the New Huangpu Neighborhood. Similarly, in Gulong No. 3 Neighborhood, more than a dozen of important residents, including retired senior cadres, private entrepreneurs and young professionals worked together to launch a mutual-aid initiative and support the RC’s routine work (SBCA 2010). Why, then, did certain senior actors strikingly play a constructive role in China’s neighborhood governance? Under what conditions are the RCs able to engage these important residents? I explore the pattern of elite involvement in neighborhood governance in China in this chapter. Viewing neighborhood as a unique context for statesocietal interaction, I argue that the presence of advantaged residents in their backyards depends not on their tangible assets or commitments, but on an interactive process of framing and identity reconstruction in the stateempowered deliberative settings. In particular, the RCs crafted with deliberative spaces and informal, voluntary bodies are likely to socialize elite residents, frame their discourse and community identity, and produce a particular form of constructive activism. Below, I first provide theoretical considerations about the cause of elites’ engagement in neighborhood governance. To contextualize the research question, I show the trajectory of community governance innovations in Shanghai since the mid-1990s. Next, I explore empirical evidence of elite action in an upper-class gated community in Shanghai, showing how state policies have expanded socialization space for elite residents and how constructive activism on RC-led activities has emerged. I conclude that elite residents’ experience in civic spaces can foster governing engagement and thus yield significant political impact on local governance.

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Sources of the elite’s neighborhood activism In the Chinese neighborhood context, the elite can be defined as the privileged residents who play major roles in extra-community organizations or hold leading posts in these organizations. Their formal position, leadership exposure and social status enable them to influence problem solving more effectively than the average residents in the neighborhood (Burton and Higley 1989).1 Typically constituted by higher-status bureaucratic-managerial elites and professionals, elite residents differ from the “professional neighborhood organizer” like government-appointed RC leaders or its affiliated “residential activists.”2 Constructive activism by elite residents in this chapter refers to supportive and cooperative acts for RC-led activities such as social service delivery, public policy implementation and community conflict resolution. As in other societies, community involvement in urban China takes many forms, ranging from control of decision-making to volunteering and to mere consultative inputs. Indeed, activism is usually used synonymously with protest or dissent, but it also stems from cooperative politics. As acts that support and conform to the state and its local agent, the phenomenon of elite activism here excludes participation in spontaneous protests or in other community-based organizations such as homeowner associations, which are equally important in understanding the growing complexity of neighborhood politics in China. Nevertheless, the elite’s constructive activism in the neighborhood represents a critical measure of RC’s community governability. What, then, explains the elite’s intra-neighborhood activism? On one hand, based on theories of political participation, one may argue that neighborhood activism is influenced by institutional factors and the individual’s sociodemographic and cultural factors (Inglehart 1977, 1995). On the other hand, studies of political participation in authoritarian states have emphasized the crucial role of patron–client ties, mobilization factors and individuals’ subjective orientations (Walder 1986; Shi 1997; Chen and Zhong 2002). For example, Read contends that neighborhood activism in urban China should be better interpreted as a particular form of state-mobilized volunteering, which “expresses and provides supports for the existing order, yet it also embodies an impulse to become involved in local affairs and contribute to neighborhood administration in a way that can mean requesting changes and expressing demands” (Read 2003a: 189). Arguably, these factors seem to be more relevant to community engagement of low-income residents rather than elite residents who are more autonomous, if not insular to local authority. Citing the growing strong evidence of elite involvement in homeowner mobilization in China, one may claim instead that elite activism is stimulated by grievances related to housing-management problems in the context of housing privatization.3 There is no doubt that homeownership plays a crucial role in generating residents’ participation because it gives homeowners a stake in local issues (Cox 1982). However, housing tenure and dissatisfaction related

Elite activism in urban China  97 to housing management cannot automatically spur activism (i.e. constructive involvement in the urban Chinese context), as cautioned by resource mobilization theory (McCarthy and Zald 1977). Furthermore, this line of inquiry fails to account for the mechanisms behind the elite residents’ cooperative and constructive involvement in RC-led activities. One may alternatively argue that elite residents’ constructive involvement stems from rational choice. From this perspective, the behavior of the elite is not purely self-interested because they have a degree of “social preference” and hence care about the well-being of others (Eldin et al. 2007). The rational choice model is ineffective also because many elite residents’ public actions shown below are not simply motivated by material benefits and the calculation of costs and benefits. Additionally, by treating activism as a static fact, the rational choice model fails to grasp how the residents’ cognitive framework and identity are constructed and are related to a collective cause. Although the above theories shed some light on the relationship between neighborhood activism and elite residents, they do not incorporate interpretive factors and explain it from an interactive perspective. RC-led activities may not be the priority for the most privileged residents, and they may choose to be rationally uninterested in participating in the activities. I contend that moving the elite into neighborhood politics entails a conversion process through which the meanings attached to actions are created and the participants are transformed (Klandermans et al. 1999; Snow and Machalek 1983; Machalek and Snow 1993). This is in line with a Gramscian hegemonic process of “passive revolution” through which a potential conscience constituent is transformed into a self-identified activist with an ambition to establish a new order. Activism in this context cannot be explained by demographic characteristics and socioeconomic status, but must be inspired by awareness, consciousness and identity issues. If neighborhood activism depends on conversion, then what are the underlying mechanisms of elite conversion? Grounded in social mobilization and political participation theories, I argue that the elite’s activism is contingent on an interaction and socialization experience through which information about critical issues is shared and group identities and meanings of participation are generated and reconstructed. As classical social theorists from de Tocqueville to Kornhauser and Putnam (1993) have analyzed, there is a determinative role of community associational space or social embeddedness in integrating citizens into the life of a larger community.4 One underlying mechanism is that informal contacts as “weak ties” (Grannovetter 1973) can better spread information. As Gamson (1992) aptly argued, actions for political issues and events contain the elements necessary to develop an actionmotivating political consciousness, given the presence of a contact for political action. The “action context” refers to a situation that helps change the salience of collective action efforts by making them immediately and personally relevant to individuals (Gamson 1992: 110). To the extent that there are informal

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interactions for advantaged groups, a salient action context will emerge that may induce their collective involvement in community affairs. In addition, informal interactions in the neighborhood, if deliberatively cultivated, can overcome the classic paradox of participation by conveying community consciousness and by rewarding individuals who comply with participatory norms in the community and sanctioning those who do not.5 As studies of the political incorporation of minority groups have revealed, networks provide direct social benefits to “civically compliant members” in the forms of favor, friendship and belonging. For social mobilization to occur, a group-based political process such as consciousness-raising, collective empowerment matters by inducing participants to sacrifice their personal welfare for the group cause (Hirsch 1990: 243). Community consciousness functions as a normative pressure to sanction uncooperative group members and helps ensure a civic responsibility and contribute to collective goals (Olsen 1970; Verba and Nie 1972). This line of reasoning suggests that elite constructive activism in the Chinese neighborhood governance is not simply a matter of material benefits or personal demographic features, as it involves a critical conversion process of norm cultivation, subjective construction and identity building associated with the changing pattern of neighborhood organizing since the late 1990s. The deliberatively crafted informal, voluntary and everyday form of socialization spaces in the UCB has stimulated the emergence of identity reconstruction intermediary and “action contexts” that generate new dynamics within the neighborhood.

The evolution of grassroots politics in urban China In addition to the occupation-based danwei system, the geographically based street office and the RC system serve as the key infrastructure of urban governance in Maoist China of 1949–76. Rapid urban transformations since the 1990s have shifted major social functions from the danwei system to the local community, thereby adding the administrative burdens of local governments (Lee 2000; Chan 1993; Wong 1998). In addition, various new neighborhood-based social and cultural spaces have emerged as a result of housing privatization, increasing leisure time and social autonomy (Davis et al. 1995). These dynamics have triggered a process of community governance innovations in the national scheme of the UCB since late 1990s. Local authorities have begun experiments of institutional reforms designed to strengthen grassroots governability and promote community-based civic participation. In Shanghai, a new framework of “two layers of government, three layers of administration,” which features administrative decentralization, was formulated by the municipal government in 1996. The street office was established as “the third layer” of urban administration and authorized with greater jurisdiction in community service and social regulation (Shi and Pan 1998).6

Elite activism in urban China  99 The RC was revitalized at the fourth level with overwhelming top-down administrative work assignments. While the RC functioned as an agent of social mobilization and self-governance in the post-revolutionary context of 1949–76 (Zhang 2004), it has been structured as a de facto administrative extension of the local government in this framework. The decentralized governing framework has expanded the scope and reach of the administrative state; it offers some bottom-up channels and incentives for ordinary residents to participate in the communitywide decision-making process. The Shanghai approach of the UCB has been reflected by the policy community for being too “bureaucratization” (xingzheng hua), compared with approaches in other cities like Shengyan and Wuhan, which boast heavier self-governing initiatives (Lu and Li 2007). Indeed, from the perspective of the RC cadres, one of the major obstacles the UCB encounters is the lack of spontaneous voluntarism or communitarian spirit from residents. The low degree of voluntary community participation in Shanghai has placed the RC and the street office in an awkward position that does not meet the policy vision of the UCB. It has also failed to match the formal stipulation of the RC as a “mass self-government” by the PRC Constitution. To extend the street office and the RC into the increasingly complicated urban fabric and make more possibilities for residents’ engagement, policy reorientation has been adopted since the late 1990s by altering the previous pattern of neighborhood administration. A reconstruction from “administrative integration” to “democratic empowerment” began to occur, aiming to empower local residents and obtain representative inputs in the neighborhood political process (Liu 2006, 2008). The most prominent measure for this end has been the promotion of the RC direct election, which was piloted in 1999 in two street offices, and expanded quickly to over 1,000 RCs, or 30 percent of the total RCs in 2003. In 2006, more than half of the RCs in the city were reorganized by direct elections. The election in 2009 witnessed 84 percent of the RCs reconstructed by direct elections with an average voting rate of 86 percent (SBCA 2009).7 By giving residents a voice in neighborhood governance and strengthening the representation capacity of the RC, urban grassroots elections have paved ways for community-based participatory politics. To advocate grassroots self-governance, the post-election administration of the RC is designed with the principle of “separation of deliberation and administration” (yixing fenli), which offers “voluntary positions” in the RC. Official statistics reports that 33 percent of the elected RC officials work voluntarily in 2009 (SBCA 2009). Meanwhile, paid professional social workers, regarded as an “administrative force,” are hired by the street office to serve the voluntary RC members. A complementary policy measure organizes the advisory body to the RC, which takes the shape of the “deliberative assembly” (yishi hui) in many neighborhoods. A model deliberative assembly was pioneered in Jing’ansi street office in 1996, which was designed with four principal functions: raising suggestions for local public affairs, mobilizing residents and homeowner

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associations to engage in community problem solving, exploring residents’ attitudes toward the RC’s work, and cooperating with the CCP’s neighborhood branch. In Huashan neighborhood under the Jing’ansi street office, for example, the deliberative assembly consists of 13 members, 10 of whom have college or university education and good reputations in the local community (Lin 2003: 206). The promotion of community engagement in Shanghai can also be found in the invention of “three-meeting institution” (sanhui zhidu), namely, meetings for “coordination,” “hearing” and “evaluation” respectively. These RC officiated problem-solving meetings provide alternative channels for ordinary residents to engage in neighborhood disputes mediation as well as public policy evaluations. By prioritizing their demands and relaying difficult issues to the street office, RC’s influence in the neighborhood is expected to be further expanded through these meetings. Though actual institutional designs and implementation vary in the city, the common rationale of these new strategies of neighborhood organizing is that bottom-up participation matters. The deliberate construction of stateempowered civic fabrics thus provides a unique opportunity to probe the problem of whether and how elites respond and become active participants in neighborhood governance.

Elite activism in the Renheng community I studied the Renheng Residential Community to show how state-led grassroots participatory innovation reconstructs the elite’s perception and actions toward neighborhood governance. Renheng is an affluent garden-style gated community in central Shanghai, covering 350,000 square meters. It has 1,944 households and 4,850 inhabitants in total. The community is well known for its decent location, luxury apartments and its demographic composition. Nearly 60 percent of the residents are from more than 60 countries, including Germany, US, Great Britain and Singapore; 30 percent of the residents are from China and Hong Kong, Macao and Taiwan. Most of the residents are wealthy professionals or business people, and constitute an elite population.8 Between 2008 and 2010, I attended meetings and events organized in Renheng, worked with people who become community volunteers, and interviewed community organizers and prominent residents to study community activism by elite residents. In 2002, Mrs Zhang Lingbao was commissioned by the Lujiazui street office to Renheng for organizing a new RC and CCP branch.9 For Mrs Zhang, the demographic profile of Renheng community poses “a substantial challenge” for community cadres: Unlike those in other communities, the residents in Renheng are from high status groups in Shanghai. Most residents are wealthy businessmen and well-educated professionals . . . It is a tough job to manage this community

Elite activism in urban China  101 not only because they are busy, but also because they prioritize security and privacy. The international standard and high quality housing services diminish the frequency of neighborhood disputes as often found in other types of communities. It seems that there is no role for us to play.10 Mrs Zhang characterized this neighboring condition as “rich people, poor community,” a notion echoed by many residents. As recalled by Ms Wu, the wife of a private businessman, who moved into Renheng neighborhood after retiring from a public school as a music teacher, said: [I think] Renheng is remarkably different from traditional public housing where privacy is difficult to maintain. Unlike those in working-class neighborhoods, residents here do not have an intimate and interdependence relationship. We value privacy and distance, and we don’t rely on government or the RC for welfare, relief or any other material assistance as those in poor neighborhoods.11 In the mind of Mrs Zhang and her supervisors in the street office, such a passive resident’s mentality could be problematic. Ms Chen, who is in charge of community affairs in the Lujiazhui street office, stated that, “our grassroots cadres must learn how to engage new social groups in these international residential communities, innovative measures must be explored to activate the residents and prevent this community from becoming an enclave of our society.” Largely inspired by her previous working experience as a propaganda executive in a state-owned factory, Mrs Zhang believed that “people’s worldview was adjustable” and that behavior could be remolded by culture programs. While establishing “deliberative assembly” and “three meetings” has become a popular practice of community engagement in Shanghai, Mrs Zhang regarded “civic and cultural initiative” as the best approach to engender participatory ethos and associational life in Renheng. In 2004, Mrs Zhang managed to hatch the first voluntary group for cultural life called the “Liao Laoshi Chorus Team” in partnership with Mrs Liao, who wanted to spend her retirement time meaningfully. Mrs Liao managed to recruit volunteers from her former workplace as vocal teachers for the team members. Its membership has grown significantly and become a cross-fertilization space with many informal chats about community affairs. As noted by Mrs Liao: We enjoy singing together, and our gatherings deepen our relationship and reduce our sense of isolation in the community. Our group members often have extended conversations about common concerns after the one-hour singing practice . . . Mrs Zhang gives us generous help. For example, some of our foreign members ask for learning more about Chinese culture so as to better appreciate our songs. She quickly responded by recruiting

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Chunrong Liu volunteers from the street office to offer free Mandarin classes for them. She managed to invite famous chefs from the five-star Jinjiang Hotel to teach us how to make fried dumplings and Chinese desserts.12

Over time, Liao Laoshi Chorus Team has becoming a source of cultural communication among many families. Quick to see the added value of residents’ small groupings, the Lujiazhui street office offered more financial support to the RC’s civic programs in Renheng. The street office also decided to hire more social workers to assist Mrs Zhang’s work. This has further promoted the growth of grouping spaces in the community. In 2005, the International Mama Club was established by Mrs Chang, who is a Singaporean and a housewife to a senior manager of an international corporation in Shanghai. Mrs Chang has felt an evident identity change through her grouping experience: As a foreigner resident, I had a natural feeling of insecurity when I first settled down here. Privacy does not guarantee security. Social network matters. As a joint effort between Mrs Zhang and many housewives, the Mama Club is an invention to warm up the cold community. To me it is not merely a socializing space for housewives. It builds up many interfamily ties through which we share information and ideas about our community and the city of Shanghai, and it makes many individuals and families more open to others.13 Thanks to Mrs Chang’s work, the International Mama Club has become another iconic socializing space for over 50 housewives from over 10 countries. Like the chorus team, it organizes many regular activities like interfamily dinners, and become a resort for the housewives to share parenting experiences and deal with domestic problems. As a result, the growth of these small groups has formed a pool of volunteers and paved ways for more cultural and recreational events. For example, the program for “Foreign Women Learning Chinese” was established by the International Mama Club in 2006. Using the method of situational simulation, it has helped foreign women learn Chinese and master Chinese communication skills. Many Chinese women have volunteered to join the class as language partners. These voluntary actions also made possible a grand event called the “international family cultural festival” in April 2008, which was organized by the RC to host over 20 family-based musical shows. While the elite residents’ visibility has been increased through these interactions, the RC has not been marginalized largely because Mrs Zhang and her associated social workers have developed intimate personal ties with many housewives and their families. For her, face-to-face interactions in these spaces have contributed to the formation of community identity of various participants, and benefited both individuals and the community. A Swiss woman, who was a founding member of the International Mama Club, said:

Elite activism in urban China  103 The Renheng RC and its leader Mrs Zhang are a reliable source of help to us. Their work has nothing to do with authoritarian control, but rather help to build up community ties that matter to us. Through these interactions, we have developed social connections and perhaps more importantly relational thinking which is inspiring for our work.14 I found from my field observations that the bottom-up, non-hierarchical and non-compulsory pattern of group interactions contributed to community awareness among these advantaged constituencies and increased their public commitment beyond their small group. As these elite participants stick together with the RC through these groupings, they are able to aggregate specific needs into public concerns, which shorten the distance between the RC and these elite constituencies. For example, members of the International Mama Club requested visits to migrant workers’ schools and children’s welfare homes in Shanghai, and the RC accommodated this request. In 2008, the International Mama Club worked with the RC to organize a charitable fund-raising campaign for the victims of the Wenchuan earthquake. This accomplishment drew public praise and was named by the Shanghai municipal government as the “Model of Cultural Civilization Construction.” More active forms of elite participation were displayed in the implementation of the government-sponsored RC election. In 2009, the Lujiazui street office decided to further grassroots democracy by promoting a direct election in Renheng.15 Mrs Zhang was proud to report that the election was enthusiastically supported by the members of International Mama Club and the Chorus Team, among many others. The voter registration went smoothly and the affluent residents actively engaged in the candidate nomination process. Four foreigner residents (including one overseas Chinese) were nominated by these groups to run for the RC office election (see Table 6.1).16 With an extraordinary voting rate reaching 87 percent, the 2009 RC direct election has been regarded as a “self-governance carnival” of Renheng. The elite’s involvement in the RC election has little to do with clienteliststyle politics or as a reciprocal response to Mrs Zhang’s commitment. It is rather a manifestation of their new community identity and social networks. As described by Mr Jin, the elected RC director: Unlike those in other communities where elections are a scam due to controlled nominations, the RC election in Renheng is like a weekend party event run by ourselves . . . I nominated myself for the RC directorship because I wanted to take a challenge to serve community projects as a retired businessman. I am confident to do my work because I am an acquaintance of many cultural group members and have solid “mass support” [qunzhong jichu].17 It is clear that a new community identity accumulated in the small group matters for Mr Jin’s decision. It seems that active engagement of elite residents

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Table 6.1 Candidate profiles, the 2009 Renheng RC election Name

Age

Education

Brief (by RC election committee)

Mr Jin

64

MA

Retired businessman (former leader of SOE); awarded “Outstanding Member of Shanghai Industrial Association” and “Outstanding Member of Shanghai Federation of Trade Unions”; self-nominated for directorship of the RC

Mrs Wu

51

MA

Housewife; was a Communist Youth League Leader in local government; awarded “Charity Star of Pudong New Area” in 2008; nominated by residents for directorship of the RC

Mrs Drewes

45

PhD

German Professor at the Sino-German Institute of Tongji University

Mrs Muntwyler

57

BA

Swiss; housewife; founding member of the International Mama Club; self-nominated

Mr Oades

42

BA

British artist and writer

Mrs Gu

75

Junior school

Retired communist cadre; self-nominated

Mrs Liao

63

BA

Retired teacher, founder of Liao Laoshi chorus team; awarded “Outstanding Teacher of Pudong New Area”; self-nominated

Mrs Wei

40

BA

Housewife; active volunteer for community charity; member of International Mama Club

Source: Renheng RC Office (2009). Note: The election is conducted with the multiple candidate principle.

has allowed them to develop a strong sense of community and helped transform the RC into a civic infrastructure in neighborhood governance.

Conclusion The elite’s attitude and behavior in the neighborhood setting are impacted by social structures. In addition, this chapter shows the elite’s constructive engagement in the Chinese neighborhood politics as a function of group socialization and identity transformation, and suggests a particular mechanism through which a local institutional design can shape the dynamics of the elite’s constructive activism. This finding not only enriches the civic engagement scholarship, which rarely argues that state policy can expand civic engagement, but also bolsters the cultural theory of social mobilization which holds that collectively shared beliefs, ideologies, values and other meanings, in conjunction with social networks, can provide the motivation for people to

Elite activism in urban China  105 contribute to the collective engagement. Embedded in those small group networks, the elite’s mobilization potentials and agenda-setting capacity may be amplified, thereby facilitating their deconstructive actions on contentious issues pertaining to their collective interests. The impact of elite activism is complicated and in need of further examination. While the purposive promotion of grassroots associational space can culminate in a meaningful change in China’s community governance by fostering a sense of community and redefining the RC as a civic engagement agent, one would wonder whether elite backyard engagement can bring a tangible change to the upper level government. It is not clear that there will be greater influence on extra-community agenda setting and decision-making based on grassroots level engagement. Furthermore, as has been widely cautioned, there is a possibility of elite seizure in community-based development (see, for example, Platteau 2004). Excessive elite actions could lead to a dilemma of governing tension because the RC and local government apparatuses may have to tolerate greater elite engagement in urban governance. Furthermore, the manifestation of the elite’s civic activism is still rare in urban China. First, the homogeneous and prestigious background of Renheng residents creates a relatively inclusive demand for local identity construction. Given this homogeneity, elite residents are more likely to craft a collective place-based frame that would inspire and sustain their social interaction. Second, compared with its counterparts elsewhere in the city, the Lujiazhui street office perhaps has had more resources to showcase citizenship in the community. In other neighborhood settings, agents of state power may show a stronger mentality of social control with a little sense of civic empowerment. Furthermore, this study considers only the short-term impact of institutional design on the elite’s constructive activism. In the long run, there could be a new evolution of institutional infrastructure in the neighborhood, which may demobilize elite residents and may even limit their grassroots civic engagement. Despite all these, the mechanism of the grouping process and identity reconstruction may not be isolated to the neighborhood life in Renheng. Given the continuing grassroots-level sociopolitical changes and its far-reaching implications in China, understanding the potentials of elite activism in this particular social setting is undoubtedly a critical research agenda. The forms and extent of elite activism in state-led grassroots self-governance that are revealed in this chapter should inspire further investigations about why and how elites take action in grassroots politics, and how these actions vary and may transform local governance in urban China.

Notes 1 Verba et al. (1995: 220) define “advantaged citizens” in the American context as those with at least some college education and annual family incomes exceeding $50,000.

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2 Activists can be identified as those in “a small group committed to trying to resolve an issue and thereby to improve life in the neighborhood” (Cunningham and Kotler 1983: 17). The category of neighborhood leadership is borrowed from social movement organization studies (McCarthy and Zald 1977; see also Staggenborg 1988). 3 While less than 15 percent of the urban population had lived in privately owned dwelling at the end of Mao era, the homeownership rate reached a remarkable level of 71.98 percent in 2000 (China Real Estate News, May 19, 2000). Management companies and self-organized homeowner associations have assumed the managing obligations that had previously been held by the RCs in the commercialized residential estates. Housing-related conflicts have been growing because of this transformation (Read 2003b). It was estimated that there were about 166,000 housing disputes reaching at the courts in 2000, which is a 42 percent increase over 1997 (Tomba 2005). 4 There is ample research for this argument. Verba et al. (1995) provide a classic hypothesis about the positive effect of non-political organizations on an individual’s level of political participation. In their study of civil rights mobilization, McAdam (1982) and Morris (1984) noted that churches were an important place for communication networks that support black political activism. Kenny (1992) illustrates that friendship networks make people participate more. Other research implies that even basic forms of interaction such as playing cards and attending dinner parties may increase interpersonal trust and adherence to social norms, and hence contribute to active participation (Timpone 1998; Putnam 2000; Burns et al. 2001). 5 Solutions to this dilemma typically involve “selective incentives” offered by organizations, or “political entrepreneurs” who bear the disproportionate cost of collective action (Lichbach 1995; Popkin 1979; Javeline 2003). 6 The above two layers are municipal government (shi zhengfu) and district government (qu zhengfu) respectively. According to the “Policy Paper on Strengthening Street Office, Residents Committee and Community Management in Shanghai,” formulated by the Shanghai municipal government, the street office was to convert from a “subordinated agency” of the district government to a community-rooted governing agency with regulatory functions. It stipulated that the administration area of each street office should be reconfigured and standardized to cover 5 square kilometers (or about 100,000 residents). Second, the standard quota of every street office’s “approved positions of public servants” was increased from approximately 55 to 60. Third, to change its previous marginal status in the urban government, the street office was to receive more autonomous financial resources via a new street-level fiscal system. The overarching district government would be responsible for funding the street office through fiscal transferring. 7 Voting rates is the percentage of total voters who actually cast votes. As China’s rural villager committee election, an RC election is only valid if more than half of the total voters actually cast votes. 8 Shanghai is home to more than 500 multinational companies’ regional corporate headquarters and is envisioned to become a world financial center. Growing internationalization and a booming economy have also reconfigured the residential pattern in Shanghai, with many newly built quarters for the middle class and foreigners. Among them, Renheng is known for its concentration of overseas Chinese and foreign residents. 9 “The Organic Law of Urban Residents Committee” (1989) requires that “a residents committee shall generally be established for an area inhabited by 100–700 households on the basis of the distribution of residents and on the principle of facilitating their self-government” (Article 6). According to the “Charters of the Chinese Communist Party,” a party cell should be established wherever there are more than three party members.

Elite activism in urban China  107 10 11 12 13 14 15

Interview, July 21, 2008. Interview, July 23, 2008. Interview, July 21, 2008. Interview, July 24, 2008. Interview with respondent requesting anonymity, July 25, 2008. Two indirect elections in Renheng were piloted in 2003 and 2006 respectively. In the 2006 election, 7 committee members were elected from 9 candidates by 49 representatives. Among the 7 elected, 2 are foreigners who don’t have Chinese citizenship. All the committee members are from registered Renheng residents and they serve the community in party-time mode. 16. The nomination of the candidate for RC election is usually based on “residential block” (lou zu) and determined by the residential representatives’ meeting. In Renheng’s election, small groups were allowed to nominate and deliberate the candidateship. 17 Interview, September 23, 2009.

References Burns, Nancy, Kay Lehman Schlozman and Sidney Verba (eds) (2001) The Private Roots of Public Action: Gender, Equality, and Political Participation. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Burton, Michael and Higley John (1989) “The Elite Variable in Democratic Transitions and Breakdowns,” American Sociological Review, 54 (1): 17–32. Chan, Cecilia L. (1993) The Myth of Neighborhood Mutual Help: The Contemporary Chinese Community-based Welfare System in Guangzhou. Hong Kong: Hong Kong University Press. Chen, Jie and Zhong Yang (2002) “To Vote or Not To Vote: An Analysis of Peasants’ Participation in Chinese Village Elections,” Comparative Political Studies, 35 (6): 686–712. Cox, Kevin (1982) “Housing Tenure and Neighborhood Activism,” Urban Affairs: Quarterly, 8: 107–29. Cunningham, James and Kotler Milton (1983) Building Neighborhood Organizations: A Guidebook Sponsored by the National Association of Neighborhoods. Notre Dame, IN: University of Notre Dame Press. Davis, Deborah S., Richard Kraus, Barry Naughton and Elizabeth J. Perry (eds) (1995) Urban Spaces in Contemporary China: The Potential for Autonomy and Community in Post-Mao China. New York: Cambridge University Press. Derleth, James and Daniel R. Koldyk (2004) “The Shequ Experiment: Grassroots Political Reform in Urban China,” Journal of Contemporary China, 13 (41): 747–77. Domhoff, William (1990) The Power Elite and the State: How Policy is Made in America. New York: DeGruyter. Edlin, Aaron, Andrew Gelman and Noah Kaplan (2007) “Voting as a Rational Choice: Why and How People Vote to Improve the Well-Being of Others,” Rationality and Society, 19 (3): 293–314. Gamson, William (1992) Talking Politics. New York: Press Syndicate of the University of Cambridge. Granovetter, Mark (1973) “The Strength of Weak Ties,” American Journal of Sociology, 78: 1360–80. Hirsch, Eric (1990) “Sacrifice for the Cause: Group Processes, Recruitment, and Commitment in a Student Social Movement,” American Sociological Review, 55 (2): 245–54.

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Inglehart, Ronald (1977) The Silent Revolution: Changing Values and Political Styles among Western Publics. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press. –––– (1995) “Public Support for Environmental Protection: Objective Problems and Subjective Values in 43 Societies,” Political Science and Politic, 15: 57–71. Javeline, Debra (2003) “The Role of Blame in Collective Action: Evidence from Russia,” American Political Science Review, 97 (1): 107–21. Keng, Shu, Chen Yi-ling and Chen Lu-huei (2008) “Youxian gaige de zhengzhi yiyi” (“Political Implications of Limited Reform”), Journal of Social Sciences and Philosophy, 20 (4): 513–52 (in Chinese). Kenny, Christopher (1992) “Political Participation and Effects from the Social Environment,” American Journal of Political Science, 36: 259–67. King, Yeo-chi Ambrose (1975) “Administrative Absorption of Politics in Hong Kong: Emphasis on the Grass Roots Level,” Asian Survey, 15 (5): 422–39. Klandermans, Bert, M. de Weerd, J. M. Sabucedo and M. Costa (1999) “Injustice and Adversarial Frames in a Supranational Political Context,” in Donatella della Porta, Hanspeter Kriesi and Dieter Rucht (eds) Social Movements in a Globalizing World. London: Macmillan. Lee, Ming-Kwan (2000) Chinese Occupational Welfare in Market Transition. Basingstoke, UK: Macmillan. Li, Fan (2004) “Zhongguo dalu chengshi jiceng minzhu fazhan qianjing” (“The vision of urban grassroots democratization in Mainland China”), in Zhu Xinmin (ed.) Zhongguo dalu jiceng minzhu yanjiu (Studies of Grassroots Democracy in Mainland China). Taipei: Prospect Foundation, pp. 23–50. Lichbach, Mark (1995) The Rebel’s Dilemma. Ann Arbor, MI: University of Michigan Press. Lin, Shangli (2003) Shequ minzhu zhili anli yanjiu (Case Studies on Community Democratic Governance). Beijing: Social Science Literature Press (in Chinese). Liu, Chunrong (2006) “Social Changes and Neighbourhood Policy in Shanghai,” Policy and Society, 25 (1): 133–55. –––– (2008) “Empowered Autonomy: The Politics of Community Governance Innovation in Shanghai,” Chinese Public Administration Review, 5 (1–2): 61–71. Lu, Hanlong and Li Jun (2007) “Zhongguo chengshi juweihui gongzuo de bijiao yanjiu: Shanghai yu Shenyang” (“A Comparative Study of Residents Committee in Urban China: Shanghai and Shenyang”), Social Science Frontiers, 6: 188–95 (in Chinese). McAdam, Doug (1982) Political Process and the Development of Black Insurgency, 1930–1970. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press. McCarthy, John D. and Mayer N. Zald (1977) “Resource Mobilization and Social Movements,” American Journal of Sociology, 82: 1212–41. Machalek, Richard and David Snow (1993) “Conversion to New Religious Movements,” in David G. Bromley and Jeffrey K. Hadden (eds), Religion and the Social Order Volume 3B: The Handbook on Cults and Sects in America. London: JAI Press. Mills, Wright C. (1956) The Power Elite. New York: Oxford University Press. Morris, Aldon D. (1984) The Origins of the Civil Rights Movement: Black Communities Organizing for Change. New York: Free Press. Olsen, Mancur (1970) The Logic of Collective Action: Public Goods and the Theory of Groups. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Platteau, Jean-Philippe (2004) “Monitoring Elite Capture in Community-Driven Development,” Development and Change, 35: 223–46.

Elite activism in urban China  109 Popkin, Samuel (1979) The Rational Peasant. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press. Putnam, Robert D. (1993) Making Democracy Work: Civic Traditions in Modern Italy. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press. –––– (2000) Bowling Alone: The Collapse and Revival of American Community. New York: Simon & Schuster. Read, Benjamin L. (2003a) “State, Social Networks, and Citizens in China’s Urban Neighborhood,” PhD dissertation, Harvard University. –––– (2003b) “Democratizing the Neighborhood? New Private Housing and Homeowner Self-Organization in Urban China,” The China Journal, 49, 31–59. Renheng RC Office (2009) 2009 juweihui xuanju gongzuo baogao (Working Report of 2009 RC Election) (in Chinese). Shanghai: Renheng Residents’ Committee. SBCA (Shanghai Bureau of Civil Affairs) (2009) Juweihui xuanju yu jiceng minzhu jianshe (Reports on Residents Committee Election and Grassroots Democracy Building). Shanghai: Shanghai Bureau of Civil Affairs (in Chinese). –––– (2010) Juweihui zizzhi jiayuan (Self-governance of Residents Committee). Shanghai: Shanghai Bureau of Civil Affairs (in Chinese). Shi, Kai and Pan Lieqing (eds) (1998) Liangji zhengfu sanji guanli (Two Layers of Government, Three Layers of Administration). Shanghai: Shanghai People’s Press (in Chinese). Shi, Tianjian (1997) Political Participation in Beijing. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Snow, David and Richard Machalek (1983) “The Convert as a Social Type,” in Randall Collins (ed.), Sociological Theory. San Francisco, CA: Jossey-Bass. Staggenborg, Suzanne (1988) “The Consequences of Professionalization and Formalization in the Pro-Choice Movement,” American Sociological Review, 53: 585–605. Timpone, Richard (1998) “Structure, Behavior, and Voter Turnout in the United States,” American Political Science Review, 92 (1): 145–58. Tomba, Luigi (2005) “Residential Space and Collective Interest Formation in Beijing’s Housing Disputes,” The China Quarterly, 184: 934–51. Verba, Sidney and H. Nie Norman (1972) Participation in America: Political Democracy and Social Equality. New York: Harper & Row. Verba, Sidney, Kay Lehman Schlozman and Henry E. Brady (1995) Voice and Equality: Civic Voluntarism in American Politics. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Walder, Andrew G. (1986) Communist Neo-Traditionalism: Work and Authority in Chinese Industry. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press. Wong, Linda (1998) Marginalization and Social Welfare in China. New York: Routledge. Xu, Zhongzhen and Li Youmei (2003) Shenhuo jiayuan yu shehui gongtongti (Residential Place and Community of Life). Shanghai: Shanghai University Press. Zhang, Jishun (2004) “Shanghai linong: linli dongyuan yu guojiashehui yitihua zouxiang” (“Neighborhood Shanghai: Grassroots Political Mobilization and Integration of State and Society”), Chinese Social Sciences, 2: 178–88 (in Chinese). Zhu, Jiangang (1999) “Guojia, quanli yu jiequ kongjian” (“State, Power and Street Community Space”), Chinese Social Science Quarterly, 26: 171–93 (in Chinese).

7

Intermediate associations, grassroots elites and collective petitioning in rural China Yu Tao and Mingxing Liu

Introduction The legal status and social roles of collective action vary among different countries. In mature democracies, social and political movements have been institutionalized since the Civil Rights Movement; most collective actions are no longer treated as threats to the state but important and prevalent forms of civil participation (Seippel 2001; Meyer and Tarrow 1998: 20–24; McCarthy and McPhail 1998: 83–110). In comparison, in autocracies, people have to use massive assemblies, large-scale processions or violent demonstrations to express and pursue their social and political goals;1 however, such collective actions are often unsuccessful due to restrictions and repressions by authoritarian systems (Puryear 1994: 35). If collective actions take place in transitional countries, how can they be accounted for? On the one hand, the state usually relaxes its control of society in the transitional period, since the traditional legitimacies face serious challenges and various interest groups emerge (Sharman 2003); the cost and danger of launching collective political actions in these cases may be reduced (Zhao 2006a: 113–16). On the other hand, as more democratic factors are inducted to the institution, citizens in transitional states have many new means of political participation; people thus may express their political voices on the Internet rather than launching mass movements in the street. Therefore, the ‘political opportunity structure’ in transitional countries may not always sustain collective political actions (O’Donnell et al. 1986: 56). So, the conditions for collective political actions usually seem very complex and unclear in transitional countries and, as such, it is worthwhile analysing the processes underlying these actions, especially as they occur in large transitional countries such as China (Bouma and Atkinson 1995: 8). This chapter discusses the relationship between collective petitioning and intermediate associations in contemporary rural China, with special attention paid to the important roles that grassroots elites play in the interactions between rural intermediate associations and the local states. This topic is

Elites and petitions in rural China  111 selected for study not only because the relationship between organizations and collective actions is a very important field of general social science (della Porta and Diani 2006: Chapter 1; Tarrow 2003: 10–25), but also because growing intermediate associations and ongoing collective protests are two noticeable social phenomena in transitional rural China (Cai 2000; Perry 2002; PesqueCela et al. 2009). Contemporary China is neither an absolute autocracy nor a typical democracy; people in rural China do enjoy political rights such as electing their own village leaders, but such elections as well as other political activities are often under close surveillance, strict control or even direct intervention by upperlevel authorities (Oi and Rozelle 2000; Zhang et al. 2004). Moreover, unlike most Eastern European or the former Soviet Union states which chose ‘shock therapy’ to complete their post-communist transformation in a short period (Sachs 1993; Shorter and Healy 2007), the Chinese government is reforming its economic system gradually, and has emphasized its commitment to the communist ideology from time to time (Lau et al. 2000; Woo 1994); thus, China seems to be a special case. The unique sociopolitical environment of contemporary China provides a good setting to examine the existing theories regarding the relationship between intermediate associations and collective petitioning. Then, can we directly apply the findings from democratic countries or other transitional countries to explain the social facts in contemporary China? If so, are intermediate associations increasing or decreasing the likelihood of collective petitioning in contemporary rural China? If not, what new approach should we adopt to address these theoretical and empirical issues? To provide clear answers to these questions, we start our discussion by defining key concepts, including ‘intermediate association’, ‘collective petitioning’ and ‘local elite’. Then we will briefly summarize the existing literatures and point out some important research gaps in this field. Next, through descriptive statistics of our national survey data, we will introduce some general patterns regarding intermediate associations and collective petitioning in contemporary rural China. To better understand the relationship between these two social factors, we will develop a new framework and explain it with representative cases. At the end of this chapter, we will summarize our findings and discuss possible directions for future research on grassroots elites and collective action in China.

Definitions of key concepts Although frequently mentioned by Chinese journalists and scholars (e.g. Zhu and Fan 2006; Wang 2008; Yu and Scott 2008), both ‘intermediate association’ and ‘collective petitioning’ lack generally accepted definitions in the context of contemporary China. As Booth et al. (2008: 150–1) claimed, a definition is the curial warrant for researchers; without clear definitions of both ‘intermediate association’ and ‘collective petitioning’ it is impossible to discuss the relationship between them.

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The term ‘intermediate association’ is a relevant concept for the study of civil society. In democratic countries, ‘civil society’ usually refers to the social space between the individual/household and the state (White 1994). Mainstream social scientists use ‘intermediate association’ to describe those organizations in civil society under the rule of law (Hirst 1997: 16–17). Researchers have not yet agreed on whether there is a ‘real’ civil society in contemporary China. Some scholars claim that civil society has been established in China, since non-governmental organizations have been playing an increasingly important role since the institutional reforms started at the end of the 1980s (Yu 1993; Xu 1993). Other analysts argue that civil society has never existed in China and never will, since traditional Chinese culture does not encourage ordinary people in discussing political issues or participating in social associations (Xie 1993; Xiao 1993). Many researchers agree that many nominally non-governmental organizations are actually controlled by the government or have very close relationships with it. The activity space for social organizations is still very limited despite the fact that the state–society relationship has changed greatly since the 1989 student movement and post1978 market reforms (Zhao 2000; Nee and Matthews 1996; Linz and Stepan 1997). Lacking an effective ‘rule of law’ in contemporary China, it is hard to observe ‘typical’ non-governmental organizations which are defined in the context of mature democracies (Fewsmith 2001: 6). Based on this consideration, we follow McLean (1996: 74) in considering an organization as an ‘intermediate association’ as long as it has three or more members, it is juxtaposed to family, enterprise, political party and government, and its members can join or leave the organization as they wish. The last criterion is particularly important because it enables us to cast aside mafias and so-called ‘mass organizations’. The intermediate associations qualified to our definition may be launched by ordinary villagers, may root in village traditions and local history, and may even be established thanks to the efforts of local governments; but they are definitely not parts of local government or rural enterprise. The term ‘collective petitioning’ refers to petitioning that can be regarded as collective actions. According to Marshall’s (1998: 86–7), collective actions are those ‘taken by a group (either directly or on its behalf through an organization) in pursuit of members’ perceived shared interests’. ‘Petitioning’ is a common format of political participation in many countries. In the Western context, it refers to the action of making a request (usually in a formal written document) to a sovereign, a legislative body or court (Simpson and Weiner 1989: 634). Petitioning is not normally regarded as violent protests or resistance as those in Western countries, because petitioners there often seek help from the government without taking action directly against it. In the Chinese context, the word corresponding to petitioning is shangfang, which means that people visit the upper-level or even central government to lodge a complaint against their local administration. Petitioning is an important means of political participation in contemporary China and it appears to be ‘well-established’, ‘institutionalised and legitimate’ (Lee 2007: 232). However,

Elites and petitions in rural China  113 as Lianjiang Li (2008: 210) suggested, petitioning in rural China is actually ‘neither institutionalized nor non-institutionalized but boundary-spanning’. Interestingly enough, the ambiguous status of petitioning is reflected in the Regulations on Letters and Visits, the very legal document that regulates petitioning in contemporary China: Article 3 states that ‘[the state] shall effectively handle letters and visits by conscientiously dealing with letters, receiving visitors, heeding people’s comments, suggestions and complaints and accepting their supervision’ and ‘no organisation or individual may retaliate against letter-writers or visitors’ on one hand, whereas Article 18 restricts that petitioners can only lodge their complaints at ‘the reception place established or designated by the organ concerned’ and choose no more than five representatives in the negotiation about petitioning. Given that the term shangfang is by nature ambiguous, in this chapter we broadly define ‘petitioning’ as citizens’ visiting to state/party organs in order to give information, make comments or lodge complaints. Our definition of petitioning is broad, yet is consistent with the definition in the Regulations on Letters and Visits, and we are particularly interested in collective petitioning, which involves more than five participants for three reasons. First, clearly such actions are neither encouraged nor allowed by the formal legal institution in China, so they should be regarded as popular resistance rather than institutionalized political participations. As discussed in the Introduction, collective petitioning has a more direct impact on the sustainability of China’s growth and is therefore more interesting and important to us. Second, collective petitioning can hardly be launched without mobilization, and it involves or even produces organizational social forces (Yu 2004). Studying collective petitioning, therefore, may allow us to understand the intermediate associations and local elites in rural China more comprehensively. Last, but not least, collective petitioning has recently become widespread across China (Cai 2010; Li et al. 2012), yet it is much less politically sensitive than some extremer forms of popular resistance, such as sticks, riots and demonstrations, and it may therefore be more suitable for our large-scale research, which involves both national surveys and in-depth interviews. In this chapter, the term ‘local elite’ mainly refers to village cadres, who occupy important positions in villagers’ committees and/or village party branches. According to Mills (1956: 18), one of the most prominent figures in the field of elite studies, the elite are members of ‘those political, economic, and military circles, which as an intricate set of overlapping small but dominant groups share decisions having at least national consequences’, and he suggests that ‘in so far as national events are decided, the power elite are those who decide them’. We agree with Mills in the sense that the elite are the few people who have a powerful influence on decision making in the community to which they belong; however, unlike Mills who only focuses on the national elite, we believe that the elite exists at the grassroots level as well. This is particularly true in the case of rural China, where local gentry and clan leaders rather than officials and bureaucrats were actually in charge throughout the country’s late

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empirical history (Brook 1993, 1997). The long and painful revolution may have allowed the state to eliminate some old local chieftains (Duara 1988), yet, ironically, once the passion of the revolution faded, many village cadres who are supposed to act as the ‘screws’ of the revolutionary machine became ‘protective shells’ that protect their local communities from state intervention (Shue 1988). Today, village cadres occupy a special position in local communities and play an important role in rural China. According to the formal legal documents, including The Organic Law of the Villagers’ Committees of the People’s Republic of China, village cadres are neither bureaucrats nor civil servants; in reality, however, they are often regarded as agents of state power at the grassroots level and serve as a bridge between the state and the villagers. Therefore, as Oi (1989) describes, village cadres are able to tango between the party-state and ordinary people, and to simultaneously fulfil the state’s demands, fellow villagers’ expectations and their own interests. In addition, as Tsai (2002) observes, in the reform era, some village cadres work together with traditional social networks, such as local temples and lineage institutions, to provide public goods. We thus think it is fair to regard village cadres as the grassroots elite in rural China, and in this chapter we will analyse whether they have an impact on the relationship between intermediate associations and collective petitioning in Chinese villages.

Existing theories of intermediate associations and collective action Collective petitioning in transitional China has many characteristics in common with other forms of collective actions. As with collective protests in the West, collective petitioning in China has clear targets, striking slogans and mass participation, and could not occur without mobilization and interaction (Ying 2002; You 2006). In order to better understand the relationship between intermediate associations and collective petitioning in contemporary rural China, a review of existing research on this topic is both important and necessary. The relationship between intermediate associations and collective protest is not a new topic in the field of the social sciences. As Therborn (1995: 306) points out, more than 150 years ago Tocqueville was ‘one of the first’ researchers who ‘emphasized the significance and the social preconditions of associations in modernity’. Through comparing the social structures and political stabilities of different societies, Tocqueville and other comparative researchers such as Kornhauser and Fukuyama suggest that intermediate associations play an important role in decreasing the opportunities for the occurrence of violent collective petitioning in many societies, especially democracies. Based on his observations of early nineteenth-century America, Tocqueville finds that intermediate associations provide different social classes with a

Elites and petitions in rural China  115 platform for discussion and negotiation. Such activities, as Tocqueville (2000: 190, 513–15) implies, could integrate divergent opinions and direct different social groups toward forming consensuses. Hence, conflicts among different social groups would decrease and ‘social integration’, as Durkheim (2005: 167, 179) suggests, might increase. Moreover, when intermediate associations exist in society and communicate with one another, there will be discussions and negotiations between different social groups or between intermediate associations and the state. Through communication, people may realize that many social problems are not as simple as they appear and, as Kornhauser (1968) suggests, people are less easily mobilized by ‘Jacobinical’ political elites and violent political mass movements are less likely to occur in that society. Intermediate associations may also work as a buffer between the state and ordinary people. When there are many intermediate associations in society, various social values will be developed and people will be encouraged to share social responsibilities with the government (Traut 2000). As Zhao (2006a: 90) suggests, when each social group focuses on its own interest and value, they are less likely to associate with each other and launch combined large-scale collective political movements. As an important constituent of civil society, intermediate associations are often a reliable indication of strong civic processes and a high level of social trust (Putnam 1993: 12-14). Trust is one of the most efficient forces for increasing social integration; as Simmel (1978: 178–9) claimed, ‘without the general trust that people have in each other, society itself would disintegrate’. Fukuyama’s (1995) cross-cultural comparison suggests that economic prosperity and social harmony are more likely to be achieved in societies with higher levels of trust. Within intermediate associations, members have ample opportunity to communicate with each other, and interpersonal trust may greatly increase as a result. Violent social conflicts and collective protests are less likely to occur in societies that have a great number of intermediate associations. Such viewpoints, however, do not show the whole picture offered by the existing literature. If Tocqueville were correct and intermediate associations could indeed reduce the opportunities for the occurrence of collective political actions, those with strong connections with intermediate associations should seldom be involved in collective protests. However, by observing the social movements during the 1950s and 1980s in North America and Western Europe, many scholars claim that the opposite is true (e.g. Snow et al. 1980; McAdam 1986). Three mechanisms have been summarized to explain why intermediate associations play an important role in civil rights movements and many ‘new social movements’. First, thanks to ‘network effects’ and the ‘economies of scale’, information can be shared much more easily among association members than separate individuals (Katz and Shapiro 1985; Mankiw 2001:

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284). Intermediate associations are often used as effective mobilization methods by opposition elites (McAdam et al. 2001: 107–20). Hence, intermediate associations with anti-government values usually improve collective protests (von Eschen et al. 1971: 529). Second, the ‘free rider’ problem is less likely to occur in intermediate associations, especially in small social groups. The outcome of collective actions is often for the public good and people can benefit from a collective action without participation. Therefore, if there is no rule to regulate people’s behaviour, many will become ‘free riders’ and collective actions are less likely to happen (Mankiw 2001: 288). Intermediate associations, especially small social groups, usually have the effective means of punishing free riders. In addition, intermediate association members share common values and are more likely to consciously observe the targets of their association. Collective actions are thus more likely to happen among members of intermediate associations, especially small social groups (Zhao 2006b; Ostrom 1990). Furthermore, intermediate associations are often ‘the linking of two or more currently unconnected social sites’ (McAdam et al. 2001: 142). Although other social networks, such as universities or even local government agencies, have similar social functions, many studies suggest that intermediate associations are the most common and effective means of bridging different social groups (McCarthy and Zald 1977; Benford and Snow 2000; Hensmans 2003). Therefore, intermediate associations are often used to mobilize collective protests (Lofland 2008: 289–300). The aforementioned theories provide an overview of the roles that intermediate associations may play in collective protests; most of these theories, however, are based on research in North America and Western Europe. What, then, is the situation in contemporary China? Although the relationship between intermediate associations and collective petitioning is seldom discussed in the existing literature, the political impact of the rising Chinese intermediate associations have attracted much academic attention. As Pesqué-Cela et al. (2009) summarized, at least three strands can be distinguished in this field. The first one agrees with Tocqueville and suggests that rural intermediate associations often cooperate with the local state (e.g. Hansen 2008; Oi 1999). According to these studies, cadres, with the support and assistance of intermediate associations, are more likely to enjoy greater legitimacy and provide more effective governance; reoccurrence of collective petitioning is thus reduced. In contrast, the second strand supports Tocqueville’s view and argues that rural intermediate associations are an important means for the hostile grassroots elite to mobilize ordinary villagers and launch collective petitioning as well as other formats of collective resistance against the local state (e.g. Cai 2008; O’Brian and Li 2006; Bernstein and Lü 2003). In contrast to the aforementioned two strands, Pesqué-Cela et al. (2009) suggest that rural intermediate associations in contemporary China are likely to assume the responsibility of the local state when the latter is unwilling and/or

Elites and petitions in rural China  117 unable to perform its duties. In this case, collective petitioning will only be instigated when intermediate associations believe that they themselves can benefit from such action. The aforementioned studies illustrate one or more aspects of the relationship between intermediate associations and collective petitioning in contemporary rural China; most of them, however, are based on a limited number of case studies in certain regions, which hardly provide a comprehensive picture. In addition, based on our observations and experiences in dozens of villages all over China, the relationship between intermediate associations and collective petitioning is diverse, which differs from what has been described in existing studies. Therefore, to bridge the gap in the existing literatures, we will first provide a general picture of rural intermediate associations and collective petitioning in rural China today, and then develop a new framework to understand the relationship between them.

Descriptive statistics of national survey data To explore the state–society relationship and relevant issues in contemporary rural China, in summer 2005, the Center of Chinese Agriculture Policy (CCAP) conducted a cross-provincial survey. As the main questionnaire designers, investigator trainers and survey supervisors, we participated in most pilot surveys, main surveys and return visits. To create the sample, we divided China into six areas by cultural and geographical boundaries, with a more or less homogeneous population in each area. We then randomly selected one province from each area; five counties from each sampled province; two towns from each sampled county and two villages from each sampled town. As a result, a cross-provincial sample with 120 villages was obtained. A few sampled villages were dropped later due to practical reasons. The final data, therefore, was collected from 116 Chinese villages. In each sampled village, our survey team interviewed village cadres and checked official statistics to gather information on demographics, geographies, the economy and government capability. We also collected data on the scales, structures and functions of rural intermediate associations in the sample villages. We selected 14 villagers to solicit their understanding of village situations such as the frequency and scale of collective petitioning in the village during a certain period. Finally, we combined the information from village cadres, association leaders and ordinary villagers to study the intermediate associations and collective petitioning in rural China. Our data covers information from 2001 to 2005. Table 7.1 shows basic information about our sampled villages. Of the 116 sampled villages from which we were able to collect information, there are 550 intermediate associations and 34,533 intermediate association members.2 Table 7.2 compares some characteristics of intermediate associations with different types of leaders.

Table 7.1 Basic information on sample villages

Demographics and geography Number of natural villages Number of subvillage groups Village population Number of households Village area Scale of labour force Number of illiterate villagers Village economic information Annual income per capita (yuan) Annual tax and administrative fees revenue per capita (yuan) Village government asset Number of village enterprises

Mean

Standard deviation

25th percentile

75th percentile

3.6638 7.7414 434.6638 1,583.4140 2,155.7720 790.5690 46.5086

5.4020 5.0907 263.4604 978.8446 2,126.5920 486.3426 101.5861

1.0000 5.0000 240.5000 871.0000 865.0000 458.0000 0.0000

5.0000 10.0000 580.0000 1,991.5000 2,744.0000 1,050.0000 41.5000

2,861.4910

1,558.1190 1,500.0000

3,997.0000

71.6328

58.8135

27.9000

94.8000

7.6790 3.2931

16.8269 8.1465

0.4550 0.0000

6.0900 4.0000

4.0907

2.0000

6.7500

20.2237 95.4152

24.0000 5.0000

46.0000 84.5000

17.9706

1.0000

14.9900

Village government capacity information Distance from town centre 5.0922 (km) Number of party members 37.3103 Annual amount of tax evasion 60.2069 (yuan) Number of tax evasion 12.1894 households

Table 7.2 Intermediate Associations (IA) with different kinds of leaders Sociopolitical status of IA leaders

Frequency

Total membership

Average scale

Township or higher-level official Village cadre Lineage group leader Ordinary villagers Missing

23 330 65 107 25

2,575 6,116 5,280 14,927 5,635

111.9565 18.5333 81.2308 139.5047 225.4000

Total

550

34,533

62.7873

Elites and petitions in rural China  119 In addition, Table 7.3 compares intermediate associations among different sample provinces. According to the statistical results, Fujian has the largest total membership and the biggest average scale of intermediate associations, although it has less intermediate associations than Hebei and Jiangsu. Sichuan has both the fewest intermediate associations and the fewest intermediate association members, but the average scale of intermediate associations is larger than those of Shaanxi and Hebei. In terms of frequency, there are 141 intermediate associations in Hebei and 129 intermediate associations in Jiangsu, but only 29 intermediate associations in Sichuan. In terms of scale, the average membership of intermediate associations in Fujian is almost 234, whereas the same indicator for Hebei does not reach 7.5. Therefore, it is clear that the provincial distribution of Chinese rural intermediate associations is extremely unbalanced. Given that intermediate associations often overlap with traditional social networks in rural China, such as the clan committee or religious groups, the highly diverse frequency and average scale of intermediate associations may reflect the highly heterogamous historical and cultural backgrounds among different Chinese provinces. While identifying the driving factors of such a highly uneven distribution is beyond the scope of this chapter, the significant interregional differences will be taken into consideration in our subsequent statistical analyses. With regard to collective petitioning, compared with the situation of intermediate associations, Table 7.4 suggests that the provincial distribution of collective petitioning in contemporary rural China is much more complex. If we consider all collective petitioning which involves more than 10 participants, the ratio of villages in which such affairs occurred during 2001 and 2005 is similar among different provinces, apart from Hebei. However, if we only look at collective petitioning which involves more than 50 participants, the ratio of villages in which such affairs occurred during 2001 and 2005 is much higher in Fujian and Jiangsu than in other provinces. A more commonly occurring ratio of collective petitioning can reflect either heavier burdens on the people or more tolerance of the government, and with a limited sample it is beyond our scope and capability to explain why some provinces have more villages with reoccurring collective petitioning than others. Nevertheless, the complexity of collective petitioning indicated in Table 7.4 reminds us to carefully control related influential factors when investigating the relationship between intermediate associations and collective petitioning. What if we consider the descriptive statistics in Tables 7.3 and 7.4 together? Apparently, there is no clear pattern of the relationship between intermediate associations and collective petitioning, at least on the provincial level. For example, Hebei has both the highest frequency of intermediate associations and the lowest ratio of sample villages where collective petitioning occurred during 2001 and 2005. This seems to suggest that intermediate associations are negatively related to collective petitioning. However, while Fujian and Jiangsu each have more than 100 intermediate associations, these two provinces respectively have the highest and second highest ratio of sample villages in

19

20

16

21

20

20

116

Sichuan

Shaanxi

Jilin

Hebei

Fujian

Total

Number of sample village

Jiangsu

Province

550

107

141

69

72

32

129

Frequency of IA

4.74

5.35

7.05

3.29

4.50

1.60

6.79

Average frequency of IA in each sample village

Table 7.3 Distribution of the Intermediate Associations (IA) in sample villages

34,533

24,822

1,054

2,868

958

863

3,968

Total membership of IA

62.7873

231.9813

7.4752

41.5652

13.3056

26.9688

30.7597

Average scale of IA

297.6983

1,241.1000

52.7000

136.5714

59.8750

43.1500

208.8421

Average IA members in each sample village

Elites and petitions in rural China  121 Table 7.4 Provincial distribution of collective petitioning in sample villages Province

More than 10 participants

More than 20 participants

More than 30 participants

More than 40 participants

More than 50 participants

More than 100 participants

Jiangsu Sichuan Shaanxi Jilin Hebei Fujian

11 9 8 12 2 12

10 6 5 7 1 10

5 1 3 5 1 9

4 1 2 3 1 7

4 1 1 2 1 6

2 0 0 0 0 4

Total

54

39

24

18

15

6

which collective petitioning occurred during 2001 and 2005. In other words, what we learnt from the situation in Hebei can hardly be applied to explain the situations in Fujian and Jiangsu. Thus, while each mainstream theory regarding the relationship between intermediate association and collective political action can explain some cases in our sample, none can consistently and completely explain the whole picture.3 Therefore, we will propose a new framework to understand the relationship between intermediate associations and collective petitioning in contemporary rural China.

A new approach The politics of contemporary China is quite unique since the country is in the middle of a transition. Generally, democratic governments mainly gain their legitimacy from elections and the legal system. Political trust is built on the belief in a legal authority (Weber 1978: 212–16) and political stability does not usually relate to personal trust in political figures (Lau 1990: 193–5). Autocratic governments base their power mainly on a strong state apparatus, such as the army and secret police. In other words, in autocratic countries strict social control is adopted to maintain political stability, and political trust is thus often weak (Hague and Harrop 2001: 35–43). The Chinese government lies between the above-mentioned two regimes. As a transitional government, it provides good economic performance and allows some freedom, but at the same time strictly controls society (Fewsmith 2001). Therefore, political trust varies among different social groups/individuals in contemporary China. While some people criticize the lack of democracy and freedom in the country (Pei 1998, 1999, 2006), others claim that an authoritarian government is needed to provide the stable environment necessary during a transitional era (Qian 2003). What is more, since the ‘rule of law’ is weak, politically relevant interpersonal networks play very important roles in China (Gibson 2001), where trust in political figures is often more important than belief in the

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Yu Tao and Mingxing Liu Self-governing: whether the members can make the final decisions Yes

Embedding: whether at least one member is grassroots elites (i.e. village cadre)

Yes

No

Cooperator

Shadow 4

1

3

2

No Maverick

Puppet

Figure 7.1 Four types of Intermediate Associations (IA) in rural China

institution, and citizens who have more confidence in the political leaders may have a greater interest in maintaining the status quo. In rural China, village cadres, as the grassroots elite, are the closest political figures with whom ordinary peasants can interact; thus, intermediate associations that can increase their members’ trust in village cadres are more likely to positively influence political stability. In order to distinguish such organizations, as shown in Figure 7.1, we suggest classifying intermediate associations in rural China by the following two dimensions: (1) self-governing and (2) embedding. First, self-governance, which means that members have the right to make decisions for their association, is very important. If an intermediate association is self-governing, it will provide more opportunities for its members to interact with each other and make decisions together, which is more likely to increase the trust among its members. By reducing the transaction cost of information exchange, trust can prompt members of such associations to share resources more easily and internalize the targets of the organization (Fukuyama 1995; Luhmann 1979). Hence, self-governing intermediate associations are often associated with cohesion and solidarity. However, the more extremely an association opposes the government, the higher the trust it maintains and the greater its threat to political stability. Self-governance is not necessarily related to political stability. Our second classification criterion, embedding, is also very important. Embedding means that an intermediate association incorporates at least one local cadre into the organization. According to Tsai (2007), embedding intermediate associations are more efficient at providing public goods. We believe these associations should also be efficient in maintaining political stability if they have selfgovernance. When local cadres become members of self-governing organizations, their strong support to the government can easily become an important resource of the association. In that case, trust among association members can become their trust in the government when intermediate associations are embedded (i.e. village cadres are included as members).

Elites and petitions in rural China  123 Table 7.5 Possible impact of Intermediate Associations (IA) on collective petitioning

Classification dimensions Embedding Self-governing Expected impact Reduction of collective petitioning Basic information Total number Average number in each sample village Total membership Average membership in each village Average scale of each association

Shadow

Puppet

Maverick

Cooperator

Yes No

No No

No Yes

Yes Yes

No

No

No

Yes

365 3.15

26 0.22

91 0.78

57 0.49

10,302 88.81

3,433 29.59

15,604 134.52

3,826 32.98

28.22

132.04

171.47

67.12

As shown in Figure 7.1, by using ‘self-governing’ and ‘embedding’, four types of intermediate associations can be classified. We have named them Shadow, Puppet, Maverick and Cooperator respectively. Based on the above discussion, we argue that Cooperators, which are both self-governed and embedded, are more likely than others to have a positive impact on political stability in transitional rural China; we develop this typology in the following section. The expected impact of and basic information for each type of intermediate association in our national survey data are shown in Table 7.5.

Respective cases With the aforementioned framework in our mind, we revisited dozens of sample villages and conducted new in-depth interviews after 2005. The more intermediate associations and collective petitioning we observed, the more confidence we had on our framework. In order to illustrate our framework more straightforwardly, we show and compare the cases of each intermediate association type in this section. The cases here are selected because of their representativeness. The real names and places have been replaced. Shadow In our framework, ‘Shadow’ refers to an embedding but not self-governing intermediate association. For instance, agriculture and aquaculture associations in rural China are likely to provide membership to local cadres who are also

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farmers or poultry-raisers, so they are likely to be embedding. Such associations may be led by ordinary villagers who are experts on agriculture or aquaculture instead of cadres, but their activities often greatly depend on local states since they are not only usually established by the latter, but also lack the financial or personnel resources to have a final say on whatever decision they make. And, unsurprisingly, such organizations are usually regarded by local people as government agencies despite their nominal independence. We found the most typical Shadows in a village named Long Pool in northern Jiangsu province. According to our statistics, there were nine intermediate associations in the village at the time of the survey; this number is much higher than both the average level in Jiangsu provinces and the entire sample (see Table 7.3). We revisited the village in the spring of 2008 to investigate the reason why intermediate associations are booming there. The village had been heavily urbanized at the time of our visiting, and our interview with the village head, Mr Zhang, took place in his home instead of the village government. Mr Zhang is a frank veteran in his mid-fifties. He could not stop laughing when we praised the prosperous development of intermediate associations in his village. ‘They are useless and their only function is to waste money’, Mr Zhang said. Seeing that we were shocked and puzzled, he introduced the situation of the School for the Elderly, which was regarded as the most active intermediate associations in the village. According to Mr Zhang, the master of this school is the village Party Secretary and the treasurer is another village cadre. Therefore, this association can be considered as embedding. Thanks to the necessary financial support from the upper-level governments, the school is able to frequently deliver mental and material support to the elderly and organize some warm-hearted elderly people to help the youth in the village. However, almost all activities launched and/or organized by the school were designed and regulated by the township or county government, and the school can thus hardly be regarded as self-governing. Although the School of the Elderly is relatively active in Long Pool, perhaps the only villager who regards this school as his/her own association is the treasurer, since his salary is mainly paid from the operating expenses of this association. For others, as Mr Zhang told us, ‘this school just looks like a component of the village government, because it cannot organize any event without the instruction and support from the government’. And the School of the Elderly is not the only case. According to Mr Zhang, almost all intermediate associations in Long Pool are quite similar. For example, Mr Zhang himself is the head of the village Wedding and Funeral Affairs Association, which is also commonly regarded as a government branch among ordinary villagers. As Mr Zhang acknowledged, to most people in Long Pool, intermediate associations are no more than their signs; and ‘such signs are just hung out when relevant upper-level officials pay inspection visits to the village’. Therefore, it is not surprising that intermediate associations similar to the School of the Elderly and the Wedding

Elites and petitions in rural China  125 and Funeral Affairs Association in Long Pool would be helpless if there is collective petitioning. Although these associations are namely civil organizations, they are treated and actually performing as a part of the village government. In short, although Shadows are embedding and thus enable village officials to play important roles, they are often regarded as the ‘shadow’ of the village government. Therefore, when collective petitioning occurs in the village, local cadres in such an association can hardly persuade the petitioners who are also members of the association to give up, because few people regard the association as ‘our group’ and the trust among association members is low. Puppet The term ‘Puppet’ refers to intermediate associations which are neither embedding nor self-governing. Usually, such intermediate associations simply and passively carry out instructions from the village government. Some members, therefore, may receive a salary from the government and many others are unlikely to be keen on carrying out work for the associations. The most impressive Puppet we observed was the Folk Dance Society in Forceps Thorpe, a Hebei village located in an area close to Beijing. We visited there in the summer of 2008 and interviewed both village cadres and the Chair of the Folk Dance Society. The Folk Dance Society in Forceps Thorpe was established in the early 1990s by the village government and some elderly villagers, in response to upper-level governments’ call for preserving and developing traditional Chinese culture. Its Chair, Ms Li, told us that the association members gathered once or twice each week to rehearse scenes from traditional Chinese operas, partly for fun but also to fulfil the original mission of the association. Ms Li claimed her Folk Dance Society was not embedding since none of its members was a village cadre; however, as it was still under the strict control of the village government, it was not self-governing either. Apart from performing in front of the villagers during holidays, the association also performs at private weddings or funerals. Although such performances could have helped the association to make money, the income always goes to the village government as the rent for the common room, which is occasionally used by the association for rehearsals. When we asked Ms Li why she did not try to make her association a selfgoverning one, she told us that by doing so she might lose her position and the association would be dissolved. Moreover, when we asked her whether she would help the village cadres if they asked her to persuade fellow members to keep away from collective petitioning, her answer was even more interesting. No way! First, I don’t want to help them because they take all our incomes away; second, even if I were willing to help, I would not have the authority

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Yu Tao and Mingxing Liu to persuade other members because they view me as a puppet of the village government. If they were collectively petitioning against the village government, they would treat me as an enemy as well.

Ms Li’s answer clearly shows that Puppets have no positive effect on reducing collective petitioning because they are neither embedding nor selfgoverning. Since they are not embedding, local cadres do not have direct interaction with most of the association members; and since they are not self-governing, although their financial and personnel matters may be tightly controlled by village governments, their members may not trust local states. Besides, the case of the Folk Dance Society in Forceps Thorpe may also suggest that the leaders of Puppets may not be willing and able to cooperate with local states to reduce collective petitioning. Maverick ‘Maverick’ refers to a self-governing but not embedding intermediate association. Because Mavericks are self-governing, the trust among their members is usually strong. However, these associations do not necessarily support local states since they are not embedding. Some Mavericks, such as village churches, seldom become involved in village politics (Tsai 2007), while others, for example, Rights Protection Associations, may sometimes play important roles in organizing collective petitioning (Yu 2004). The most interesting Maverick we found was in Front Pond, a village located in a county belonging to the capital city of Fujian province. Compared with its surrounding area, this village is relatively poor and quite depressed. Both the village Party Secretary and the Village Head were young men in their early thirties when we met them in spring 2008. After a few very short conversations, we realized that they had extremely limited knowledge about the village and hardly any influence in the village. We then went directly to interview the head of the Village Elderly Hall, Mr Chen, who was in his seventies and had been in his position for more than a decade at the time of our interview. Mr Chen told us that he had never joined the party or acted as a village cadre, and there was no village cadre in his Elderly Hall. Along with his introduction on how the Elderly Hall transparently raised money to build temples and repair roads, Mr Chen directed his fire at ‘the very corrupted village cadres’ from time to time. According to him, the village cadres in Front Pond were always appointed by the township government and were not able at all to take their responsibilities. ‘We could do much better if there were village cadres who would like to cooperate with us.’ Mr Chen kept on repeating this sentence throughout the interview. To respond, the upper-level governments called for ‘Merging Schools, Concentrating Resources’; the village government closed the primary school in Front Pond a few years ago. In theory, the children in the village could thus

Elites and petitions in rural China  127 obtain better education in a larger and better school in the town centre 5 miles away, but this policy seems not be appreciated by villagers. As Mr Chen told us, they believed the purpose of this policy was to make money through selling the land of the village school, and the consequence was terrible: the financial burden on villagers has significantly increased since the village school was closed, because now parents have to send their children every day to school accompanied by someone or even live in the town centre since the distance between the school and the village is too far for little children to walk alone. Eventually, angry parents and grandparents gathered to petition for their children. Mr Chen, who himself is a grandparent, led the collective petitioning towards the county government with dozens of his fellow members of the Village Elderly Hall. The endeavour of Mr Chen and his followers failed, but it clearly shows why Mavericks may not reduce collective petitioning. The Elderly Hall in Front Pond can have a final say of its own affairs so that it is self-governing, making the trust within the association strong, and Mr Chen has a remarkable authority among fellow members. But since it is not embedding, the Elderly Hall lacks effective means to communicate with the village government; therefore, members of the Elderly Hall seldom trust the local state and they are keen to organize collective petitioning whenever their interests are hurt. It should be noted, however, that not every Maverick is willing to directly challenge the government’s authority by launching collective petitioning as the Elderly Hall in Front Pond does. For example, our interviews and observations suggest that the two dozen Maverick village churches in our sample are seldom involved in any village affairs, even when they distrust local states or witness fellow villagers’ interests being hurt. Considering China’s strict control over religious affairs (Spiegel 2004, 46–58), it is understandable that these village churches tend to avoid irritating the state for the sake of their own survival. Cooperator When we discussed our findings in Front Pond with the local cadres and asked for their comments, the usual response was that local governments should not encourage villagers to join self-governing associations such as the Elderly Hall in Front Pond. However, in many Chinese villages, ‘Elderly Hall’ and ‘Elderly Citizens Association’ are just new titles of the traditional lineage groups, which existed long before the village government. Therefore, simply forbidding villagers from joining self-governing associations may not be a wise policy for local states to reduce collective petitioning; in any case, very few village governments actually have the ability to do so even if they wanted to. Also, not every self-governing intermediate association is hostile to the village government; instead, self-governing intermediate associations, which are also embedding, are very likely to cooperate with local states, and we thus call them Cooperators.

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The most typical Cooperator we found was the Elderly Hall in Middle Street, a village just a few miles away from Front Pond. The Elderly Hall in Middle Street was established almost at the same time as its equivalent in Front Pond and its leader, Mr Shi, had also been in his position for more than a decade when we visited the village in the spring of 2008. Just as its equivalent in Front Pond, the Elderly Hall in Middle Street organizes campaigns to raise funds for public benefits such as village temples and roads. However, unlike Mr Chen, Mr Shi is a village Party Secretary; and, unlike the situation in Front Pond, most current village cadres and/or their parents are members of the Elderly Hall, although they are not in the governing committee body. At the time when local cadres in Front Pond were energetically implementing the policy of ‘Merging Schools, Concentrating Resources’, the village government in Middle Street tried hard to renew and enlarge the village primary school in order to keep it from being dissolved. This plan meant that some 20 households had to hand over their lands. Unsurprisingly, these people were very unhappy and they attempted to collectively organize a petition against it. Given that the intention outlined was to merge rather than to enlarge existing schools, the prospective petitioners could have stopped the project if they indeed went to upper-level government. However, the Elderly Hall intervened and the prospective petitioners were asked to think about the interest of the entire village as well as that of their own. ‘Our kids will have to go to a school far away from the village if you insist to hold your own land’, Mr Shi told them. ‘Those of you who have children or grandchildren in the village school will directly benefit from the plan. And I bet others will like this plan as well when your children or grandchildren reach their school age in a few years.’ Eventually, the prospective petitioners gave up their scheme soon after the Elderly Hall’s intervention. Elderly Halls in Middle Street and Front Pond are intermediate associations deeply rooted in Chinese traditions but they have very different impacts on collective petitioning. The two associations are self-governing, so they are regarded by their members as ‘our groups’. Therefore, it is easy for the members of both associations to accept suggestions from their leaders and fellow members. However, unlike its equivalent in Front Pond, the Elderly Hall in Middle Street is embedding since it contains village cadres in its members. It thus provides an ideal platform for village cadres and ordinary villagers to exchange ideas and can transform the ‘trust among members’ into the ‘trust on local states’. Therefore, thanks to the ‘bridging effect’ of the grassroots elites (i.e. village cadres), we believe that intermediate associations which are both self-governing and embedding have positive effects on reducing the occurrence of collective petitioning.

Conclusions and discussion Starting from defining the core concepts such as ‘intermediate association’ and ‘collective petitioning’ in the context of contemporary rural China, we discuss

Elites and petitions in rural China  129 the mainstream theories and ongoing debates on the relationship between the above two variables. The descriptive results of our national data indicate that the relationship between the two variables is not consistent with what has been suggested by the existing literatures. We thus raise a new framework to understand this relationship and introduce four case studies to explain our framework. Our framework suggests that the various types of intermediate association have different impacts on collective petitioning. Only those intermediate associations that are both embedded and self-governed (i.e. Cooperators) can decrease the frequency of collective petitioning in Chinese villages.4 We show that Cooperators are more likely than others to reduce the frequency of collective petitioning thanks to their capability to develop ‘trust among members’ into the ‘trust in cadres’, thanks to the ‘bridging effects’ associated with grassroots elites. Moreover, our field experience makes us believe that that working with intermediate associations may actually make the work of village cadres easier, and this phenomenon could be interpreted from the perspective of social authority. Authority, often regarded as the ability of influence without using force or threat (Bennis et al. 1958; Grimes 1978), may come from traditions, charisma or legitimacy based on formal rules and established laws (Weber 1978). In contemporary rural China, the rational-legal authority represented by village governments is usually weak due to the country’s authoritarian institution. On the contrary, traditional authority revives after the Cultural Revolution and charismatic authority appears as well, and these two types of authority usually associate with intermediate associations. When governments are considered as low in credibility, without working with other social authorities in the local community, grassroots elites can hardly prevent fellow villagers from launching or joining collective petitioning; and for discontented villagers, spreading rumour becomes an important means to mobilize others to join collective petitioning (Shan 2011). However, if grassroots elites tolerate the existence of intermediate associations and successfully ally with these groups, they can work with them to cease the destructive rumours and thus make collective petitioning less likely to happen. Which roles, then, are taken by those grassroots elites in Cooperators when conflicts occur between the government and villagers? And which side will they take when collective petitioning is likely to happen? Do they prefer to persuade the members who are ordinary villagers to accept the government’s plan? Do they prefer to negotiate with the members who are village cadres and ask them to consider the interests of ordinary villagers? Or do they request both the government and the villagers to make concessions to each other? The case of Middle Street suggests that the first hypothesis is likely. But the general picture seems far more complex and more in-depth investigations are thus necessary. The case of Front Pond indicates that some Mavericks may increase the likelihood of collective political actions in sample villages. However, there

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are 91 Mavericks in our sample and they consist of about 16.5 per cent of the total number of the surveyed intermediate associations (see Table 7.5). Why, then, can so many potential political oppositions exist in Chinese villages despite the authoritarian institution in the country? We believe there are at least two possible reasons. On one hand, this may be a result of the ‘principle–agent relationship’ between the upper-level government officials and village cadres. While the formal bureaucrats are very concerned that the Mavericks may undermine the governing capability and legitimacy of the regime, the local elite may not be motivated to control the Mavericks, either due to their good personal relations with the leaders of the Mavericks, or simply because they do not want to offend the members of the Mavericks and suffer the serious consequences of any crackdowns. On the other hand, this may also be a strategy of the local elite who want to keep their jobs under demanding supervisors. The promotion and demotion mechanism in the Chinese regime is far from transparent and there is enormous potential for informal institutions such as personal relations to work. Therefore, if the local elite fails to build good relations with their superiors, they may have to mobilize a third-party force to balance the threats towards their positions from above. This third-party force should: (1) be able to influence the parameters that are related to the political fates of their superiors; (2) be under the influence and control of the local cadres who intend to make use of them; and (3) not disappear or collapse even if the local cadres who intend to make use of them are removed from their positions. Many Mavericks happen to possess all three of the aforementioned characteristics so they may be tolerated by the local elite to balance the threats from above. Given our observations in rural China, we believe that our explanations make sense. Nonetheless, the real world is always much more complex than we think, and more empirical studies are thus necessary before a solid argument can be made.

Notes 1

2 3

Some scholars also claim that although collective political actions such as peasant uprisings frequently occur in autocracies, they are not the only form of resistance in such countries. Scott (1976, 1985, 1990) first found that peasants in Southeast Asia often used slacking as ‘weapons of the weak’ to indirectly protest against strong state power. He later extended this finding to wider areas and more social groups. Liu (2003) found that a similar phenomenon occurred among the workers in Chinese state-owned enterprises. Such works are both important and interesting, but this chapter will not delve further into this area because it is beyond the scope of our research. In the same village, membership of one intermediate association may partially overlap with that of another intermediate association. The regression models based on our survey data suggest no significant relationship between the number of collective petitioning and (a) the number, (b) the total membership, (c) the average scale, (d) the participant rate of intermediate associations in Chinese villages. There is insufficient space to show the results are in this chapter, but interested readers may contact us for detailed statistical results.

Elites and petitions in rural China  131 4

The regression models based on our survey data also suggest such findings. There is insufficient space to show the regression models and relevant results in this chapter, but interested readers may contact us for detailed statistical results.

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Kornhauser, William. 1968. Politics of Mass Society. London: Routledge & Kegan Paul. Lau, Lawrence J., Yingyi Qian and Gérard Roland. 2000. ‘Reform without Losers: An Interpretation of China’s Dual-Track Approach to Transition’, Journal of Political Economy, 108 (1): 120–43. Lau, Siu-kai. 1990. ‘Institutions without Leaders: The Hong Kong Chinese View of Political Leadership’, Pacific Affairs, 63 (2): 191–209. Lee, Ching Kwan. 2007. ‘Is Labor a Political Force in China?’, in Elizabeth Perry and Merle Goldman (eds), Grassroots Political Reform in Contemporary China. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, pp. 228–52. Li, Liangjiang. 2008. ‘Political Trust and Petitioning in the Chinese Countryside’, Comparative Politics, 40 (2): 209–26. Li, Lianjiang, Mingxing Liu and Kevin J. O’Brien. 2012. ‘Petitioning Beijing: The High Tide of 2003–2006’, The China Quarterly, 210: 313–34. Linz, Juan J. and Alfred Stepan. 1997. ‘Toward Consolidated Democracies’, in Larry Jay Diamond, Marc F. Plattner, Yun-Han Chu and Hung-mao Tien (eds), Consolidating the Third Wave Democracies: Regional Challenges. Baltimore, MD: Johns Hopkins University Press, pp. 14–33. Liu, Aiyu. 2003. ‘Guoyouqiye Zhidu Biange zhong Gongren de Xingdong Xuanze’ (‘Workers’ Action Choices in the Process of Institutional Transformation of Stateowned Enterprises’), Shehui Yanjiu (Social Research), 3 (6): 1–12. Lofland, John. 2008. Social Movement Organizations: Guide to Research on Insurgent Realities (2nd edn). New Brunswick, NJ: Aldine Transaction. Luhmann, Niklas. 1979. Trust and Power. Chichester: John Wiley & Sons. McAdam, Doug. 1986. ‘Recruitment to High-Risk Activism: The Case of Freedom Summer’, The American Journal of Sociology, 92 (1): 64–90. McAdam, Doug, Sidney Tarrow and Charles Tilly. 2001. Dynamics of Contention. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. McCarthy, John D. and Clark McPhail. 1998. ‘The Institutionalization of Protest in the United States’, in David S. Meyer and Sydney Tarrow (eds) The Social Movement Society: Contentious Politics for a New Century. Lanham, MD: Rowman & Littlefield, pp. 88–110. McCarthy, John D. and Mayer N. Zald. 1977. ‘Resource Mobilization and Social Movements: A Partial Theory’, The American Journal of Sociology, 82 (6): 1212–41. McLean, Iain. 1996. The Oxford Concise Dictionary of Politics. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Mankiw, N. Gregory. 2001. Principles of Economics (2nd edn). Fort Worth, TX: Harcourt College Publishers. Marshall, Gordon. 1998. The Oxford Dictionary of Sociology (2nd edn). Oxford: Oxford University Press. Meyer, David S. and Sydney Tarrow. 1998. ‘A Movement Society: Contentious Politics for a New Century’, in David S. Meyer and Sydney Tarrow (eds) The Social Movement Society: Contentious Politics for a New Century. Lanham, MD: Rowman & Littlefield, pp. 1–28. Mills, C. Wright. 1956. The Power Elite. New York: Oxford University Press. Nee, Victor and Rebecca Matthews. 1996. ‘Market Transition and Societal Transformation in Reforming State Socialism’, Annual Review of Sociology, 22: 401–35. O’Brian, Kevin J. and Lianjiang Li. 2006. Rightful Resistance in Rural China. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. O’Donnell, Guillermo A., Philippe C. Schmitter and Laurence Whitehead. 1986. Transitions from Authoritarian Rule. Baltimore, MD: Johns Hopkins University Press. Oi, Jean C. 1989. State and Peasant in Contemporary China: The Political Economy of Village Government. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press.

Elites and petitions in rural China  133 Oi, Jean C. 1999. Rural China Takes Off: Institutional Foundations of Economic Reform. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press. Oi, Jean C. and Scott Rozelle. 2000. ‘Elections and Power: The Locus of Decision Making in Chinese Villages’, China Quarterly, 162 (Special Issue: ‘Elections and Democracy in Greater China’): 513–39. Ostrom, Elinor. 1990. Governing the Commons: The Evolution of Institutions for Collective Action. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Pei, Minxin. 1998. ‘Is China Democratizing?’ Foreign Affairs, 77 (1): 68–83. Pei, Minxin. 1999. ‘Will China Become Another Indonesia?’ Foreign Policy, 116: 94–110. Pei, Minxin. 2006. China’s Trapped Transition: The Limits of Developmental Autocracy. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Perry, Elizabeth. 2002. Challenging the Mandate of Heaven: Social Protest and State Power in China. Armonk, NY: M.E. Sharpe. Pesque-Cela, Vanesa, Ran Tao, Yongdong and Laixiang Sun. 2009. ‘Challenging, Complementing or Assuming “the Mandate of Heaven”? Political Distrust and the Rise of Self-governing Social Organizations in Rural China’, Journal of Comparative Economics, 37 (1): 151–68. della Porta, Donatella and Mario Diani. 2006. Social Movements: An Introduction. Malden: Blackwell Publishing. Puryear, Jeffrey M. 1994. Thinking Politics: Intellectuals and Democracy in Chile, 1973–1988. Baltimore, MD: Johns Hopkins University Press. Putnam, Robert. 1993. Making Democracy Work: Civic Traditions in Modern Italy. Princeton, NJ: University of Princeton Press. Qian, Yingyi. 2003. ‘How Reform Worked in China’, in Dani Rodrik (ed.) In Search of Prosperity: Analytic Narratives on Economic Growth. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, pp. 297–333. Sachs, Jeffrey. 1993. Poland’s Jump to the Market Economy. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press. Scott, James C. 1976. The Moral Economy of the Peasant: Rebellion and Subsistence in Southeast Asia. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press. Scott, James C. 1985. Weapons of the Weak: Everyday Forms of Peasant Resistance. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press. Scott, James C. 1990. Arts of Resistance: The Hidden Transcript of Subordinate Groups. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press. Seippel, Ørnulf. 2001. ‘From Mobilization to Institutionalization? The Case of Norwegian Environmentalism’, Acta Sociologica, 44 (2): 123–37. Shan, Guangnai. 2011. ‘Guanjian shi tigao zhengfu gongxinli’ (‘The Key is to Promote the Government’s Credibility’), Nanfang zhoumo (The Southern Weekly), 24 February 2011. Sharman, J.C. 2003. Resistance and Repression in Communist Europe. London: Routledge Curzon. Shorter, Edward and David Healy. 2007. Shock Therapy: A History of Electroconvulsive Treatment in Mental Illness. Toronto: University of Toronto Press. Shue, Vivienne. 1988. The Reach of the State: Sketches of the Chinese Body Politic. Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press. Simmel, Georg. 1978. The Philosophy of Money, Tom Bottomore and David Frisby (eds). London: Routledge & Kegan Paul. Simpson, John and Edmund Weiner. 1989. The Oxford English Dictionary. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Snow, David A., Louis A. Zurcher, Jr and Sheldon Ekland-Olson. 1980. ‘Social Networks and Social Movements: A Microstructural Approach to Differential Recruitment’, American Sociological Review, 45 (5): 787–801.

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Spiegel, M. 2004. ‘Control and Containment in the Reform Era’, in Jason Kindopp and Carol Lee Hamrin (eds), God and Caesar in China: Policy Implications of ChurchState Tensions. Washington, DC: Brookings Institution Press, pp. 40–57. Tarrow, Sidney. 2003. Power in Movement: Social Movements and Contentious Politics (2nd edn). Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Tao, Yu. 2012. ‘A Solo, a Duet or an Ensemble? Analysing the Recent Development of Religious Communities in Contemporary Rural China’, ECRAN: Europe–China Research and Advice Network. Available from http://www.euecran.eu/_blog/ Young_ECRAN/post/A_Solo,_a_Duet_or_an_Ensemble_Analysing_the_Recent_ Development_of_Religious_Communities_in_Contemporary_Rural_China,_Yu_ Tao/ (accessed 19 December 2012). Therborn, Göran. 1995. European Modernity and Beyond: The Trajectory of European Societies 1945–2000. London: Sage Publications. de Tocqueville, Alexis. 2000. Democracy in America, George Lawrence (ed.). New York: Perennial. Traut, Carol Ann. 2000. ‘Governmental and Non-Governmental Organization Relationships: Possibilities and Perils’. Paper presented to the 2000 International Association of Schools and Institutes of Administration Annual Conference, Beijing, 10–13 July. Tsai, Lily. 2002. ‘Cadres, Temple and Lineage Institutions, and Governance in Rural China’, The China Journal, 48: 1–24. Tsai, Lily. 2007. ‘Solidary Groups, Informal Accountability, and Local Public Goods Provision in Rural China’, American Political Science Review, 101 (2): 355–72. Wang, Dingding. 2008. ‘Ziyou Yulun yu Shehui Wending’ (‘Free Media and Social Stability’), Lingdao Wencui (Leaders’ Digest), 16: 32–3. Weber, Max. 1978. Economy and Society, Guenther Roth and Claus Wittich (eds). Berkeley, CA: University of California Press. White, Gordon. 1994. ‘Civil Society, Democratization and Development (1): Clearing the Analytical Ground’, Democratization, 1 (2): 375–90. Woo, Wing Thye. 1994. ‘The Art of Reforming Centrally Planned Economies: Comparing China, Poland, and Russia’, Journal of Comparative Economics, 18 (3): 276–308. Xiao, Gongqin. 1993. ‘Shiminshehui yu Zhongguo Xiandaihua de Sanzhong Zhangai’ (‘Three Barriers in front of the Civil Society and Modernization in China’), Shehui Kexue Bao (Social Science Newspaper), 2 September. Xie, Xianling. 1993. ‘Zhongguo Fayu Shiminshehui Kenengxing Tantao’ (‘A Discussion on the Possibility of Chinese Civil Society’), Shehui Kexue Bao (Social Science Newspaper), 2 September. Xu, Yong. 1993. ‘Shiminshehui: Xiandai Zhengzhi Wenhua de Yuanshengdian’ (‘Civil Society: The Starting Point of Modern Political Culture’), Tianjin Shehui Kexue (Tianjin Social Science), 93 (4): 49–52. Ying, Xing. 2002. Cong Taogeshuofa dao Lishuibaiping: Dahe Yimin Shangfang de Gushi (From ‘Asking for a Statement’ to ‘Balancing Relations’: A Story of a Hydroelectric Station Area in Southwest in China). Beijing: SDX Joint Publishing Company. You, Zhenglin. 2006. ‘Jiti Xingdong he yi Chengwei Keneng: Dui Yiqi Jiti Shangfang Jingzuo Shijian de Gean Yanjiu’ (‘How Collective Actions becomes Possible: A Case Study on a Collective Petition’). Xue Hai (Xuehai Journal), 6 (2): 33–43. Yu, Jianrong. 2004. ‘Dangqian nongmin weiquan huodong de yige jieshi kuangjia’ (‘One Interpreting Framework of Rural Migrants Right Protection Activities’), Shehuixue yanjiu (Sociological Studies), 2004 (2): 49–55. Yu, Jianrong and James Scott. 2008. ‘Diceng Zhengzhi yu Shehui Wending’ (‘Infrapolitics and Social Stability’), Nafang Zhoumo (Southern Weekly), 24 January.

Elites and petitions in rural China  135 Yu, Keping. 1993. ‘Shehuizhuyi Shiminshehui: Yi ge Yanjiu Xin Mingti’ (‘Socialism Civil Society: A New Research Proposition’), Tianjin Shehui Kexue (Tianjin Social Science), 93 (4): 45–8. Zhang, Xiaobo, Shenggen Fana, Linxiu Zhang and Jikun Huang. 2004. ‘Local Governance and Public Goods Provision in Rural China’, Journal of Public Economics, 88 (12): 2857–71. Zhao, Dingxin. 2000. ‘State–Society Relations and the Discourses and Activities of the 1989 Beijing Student Movement’, The American Journal of Sociology, 105: 1592–632. Zhao, Dingxin. 2006a. Shehui yu Zhengzhi Yundong Jiangyi (Handouts of Social and Political Movements). Beijing: Social Science Academic Press. Zhao, Dingxin. 2006b. ‘Jiti Xingdong, Dabianche Lilun yu Xingshi Shehuixue Fangfa’ (‘Collective Action, Free-Rider Problem and Formal Modelling in Social Sciences’), Shehui Yanjun (Social Analysis), 121: 1–21. Zhu, Chaoji and Shuisheng Fan. 2006. ‘Shehuizhuyi Xin Nongcun Jianshe zhong de Zhengfu, Nongmin he Zhongjianzuzhi’ (‘The Government, Farmers and Intermediary Organizations in the Process of Building a New Socialist Countryside’), Dongnan Xueshu (Southeast Academic Research), 6 (6): 9–14.

8

Information collection and anticorruption in China Yongshun Cai

Introduction A state’s political will of anticorruption, which refers to its intent to “attack the manifestations and causes of corruption in an effort to reduce or eliminate them” (Brinkerhoff 2000), is commonly believed to be fundamental to its success in curbing corruption (Quah 2003). An important issue is what constitutes a strong political will. A state’s political will can be reflected in its institutional design, and the resources and power it allocates to anticorruption agencies. This is an important aspect of governance as it is part of public supervision of government officials, highlighting the importance of elite accountability and social responsibility. In the People’s Republic of China (PRC), anticorruption is about how the state or its anticorruption agencies detect and punish corrupt people, if corruption cannot be prevented ex ante. Timely and credible punishment of corrupt agents can deter and reduce incidents of future corruption. Therefore, one way of assessing a state’s political will of anticorruption is to examine whether corrupt agents who are caught have been duly punished in light of the law. This requires a comparison among the different groups of people who commit similar corrupt behavior (Manion 2004), but such information is often limited. Alternatively, the PRC’s political will can be measured by examining its determination to enhance the probability of detecting corrupt agents. This can be assessed by looking at the PRC state’s collecting and processing of information on corruption because how information is collected and used directly bears upon the probability of detecting corruption. While there have been numerous studies on corruption, very limited research has focused on the collection and processing of information on the part of anticorruption agencies. In societies where a free flow of information is absent, an examination of the collection and processing of information is particularly important for understanding the government’s efforts and political will to curb corruption. This chapter addresses the relationship between political will and anticorruption in China. Despite its authoritarian regime, the Chinese party state also feels the need to curb corruption because rampant corruption not only

Information and anticorruption in China  137 damages regime legitimacy, but it also weakens the state’s capacity, thereby reducing the regime’s chance of surviving in political crises. Anticorruption is seen as particularly necessary in today’s China also because, together with other issues, it has caused widespread resentment and grievances. Regardless of these needs, however, anticorruption is a mixed picture in China in that while a large number of government officials have been punished for corruption, corruption remains rampant and persistent. The reasons for corruption in China are many and complex, including socioeconomic changes and the ineffective monitoring mechanisms (Gong 1994; Lü 2000; Manion 2004; Sun 2004). Many of these problems have been revealed by the anticorruption agencies’ collection and processing of information. In China, anticorruption agencies rely heavily on citizens’ reports on corruption, but many of these reports have been ignored. Some reports are inaccurate, and others are not acted on because of political intervention. The collection and use of information show that both citizens and anticorruption agencies face constraints arising from the Chinese political system, which reveals not only the limited authority of anticorruption agencies but also the compromised political will of the party-state in anticorruption.

Information collection and anticorruption According to Transparency International, most of the countries that have successfully curbed corruption are developed democracies (e.g. Finland, Norway, Sweden and Switzerland).1 This is not surprising given their relatively strong prevention measures (i.e. checks and the submission of accounts), credible ex post punishment and a political culture conducive to observance of the law in these countries (Manin et al. 1999). In most societies, including democracies, however, the government is unable to entirely prevent corruption ex ante, and ex post measures have to be adopted to detect and punish corrupt agents provided the government has the political will. Obtaining reliable and accurate information on corrupt agents is a precondition for fighting corruption ex post. Anticorruption agencies’ strength in obtaining and acting on accurate information not only leads to the punishment of corrupt agents, but also deters corruption by shaping potential corrupt agents’ cost–benefit calculations (RoseAckerman 1978). A government or its anticorruption agency may use “fire alarms” and “police patrols” to collect information on corruption (McCubbins and Schwarts 1984). Police patrols involve state authorities directly investigating state agents by bypassing all middle-level bureaucracies. However, this method is costly because of the limited manpower and resources on the part of high-level state authorities. Consequently, the mechanism of “fire alarms” becomes an important method of information collection. The advantage of this method is its cheap cost because citizens or other social actors directly provide information or send “fire alarms” about malfeasant agents to state authorities.

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“Police patrols” and “fire alarms” are not the only sources of information. In democracies, a free flow of information plays an important role in preventing corruption by allowing the government to gain information on corruption from the media, and forcing the government and legal departments to respond to media reports. In contrast, authoritarian governments prohibit the free flow of information in order to cover up their problems and weaknesses or to pretend not to know about certain problems (Kuran 1991; Havel 1997). The lack of a free flow of information, however, also limits authoritarian governments’ access to information on corruption. Given the lack of a free press and the high cost of using “police patrols,” “fire alarms” become a major channel of information collection by authoritarian governments in their anticorruption efforts. However, the effectiveness of this method depends on the people who are willing to cooperate and send “fire alarms” (McCubbins et al. 1989). There are two fundamental factors that affect citizens’ willingness to act as information providers by sending “fire alarms” in anticorruption. One is their personal security and the other is their belief in anticorruption agencies’ ability to curb corruption. These two factors reflect the citizens’ confidence in the government and/or its anticorruption agencies. Reporting the corruption of power holders carries risks in many societies, and the protection of those who submit such reports must be strong enough to ensure their safety. Citizens who lack confidence in the government’s ability to protect them will not submit reports, and the converse is also true. The importance of ensuring citizens’ safety in winning their support has been borne out by the anticorruption experience in Hong Kong. When the Independent Commission against Corruption (ICAC) was first established in Hong Kong in 1974, citizens’ reports on the corruption of public or private employees were mostly anonymous because of the risks involved. Gradually, however, citizens began to realize that the ICAC can provide sufficient protection for them, and more citizens thus became willing to submit signed tips or reports to the ICAC. The proportion of signed reports has now increased to more than 70 percent from the initial 35 percent. Citizens’ trust in the ICAC is also reflected in the fact that the majority of them are willing to appear in courts as witnesses (Nie et al. 1990). On the other hand, a government with a strong political will regarding anticorruption should also demonstrate its determination and ability to investigate corruption cases. If the people doubt the government’s determination, they would not see the worth of submitting reports. In Hong Kong, the people’s willingness to cooperate with the ICAC has been enhanced by the agency’s serious and effective efforts to curb corruption over the years. This is also true in Singapore where Lee Kuan Yew, the former prime minister of Singapore, showed a strong commitment to anticorruption from the founding of the country (Lee 2000). The government’s determination led to the adoption of serious measures, including the strengthening of the Corrupt Practices Investigation Bureau whose ability to “investigate prominent persons has enhanced its credibility among Singaporeans” (Quah 2003).

Information and anticorruption in China  139 The success of Singapore and Hong Kong in anticorruption can be attributed to several reasons. Most authoritarian regimes are less successful than the Singaporean government because they are significantly different from Singapore or Hong Kong in terms not only of the size of its population but also of its political structure. First, Singapore is a small political entity that has fewer levels of power than most states, which reduces information asymmetries in the political hierarchy. In both Hong Kong and Singapore, there is only one anticorruption agency to which citizens mainly send their reports on corruption. This arrangement can reduce the citizens’ risk when submitting information on corruption as long as the organization is determined to protect them. Second, and more importantly, political power in Singapore was concentrated in the hands of determined and strong leaders, in particular Lee Kuan Yew, who were able to impose severe punishments on wrongdoing agents. The concentration of power in a limited number of top leaders in Singapore prevents problems caused by multiple principals in the sense that when leaders are divided, anticorruption efforts are likely to be weakened (Lü 2000; Manion 2004; Sun 2004). Similarly in Hong Kong, the ICAC has sufficient autonomy to investigate corruption cases. However, the situation in most authoritarian regimes is much more complex. In a political hierarchy that has multiple levels of government, when not all leaders at all levels are equally determined to discipline corrupt agents, a lack of consensus compromises the state’s efforts. This, in turn, will undermine the people’s confidence in the state’s determination to combat wrongdoing. As in most other authoritarian regimes, the checks and balances in the Chinese political system are weak, and preventive measures to curb corruption are not sufficiently effective (Lü 2000; Manion 2004; Sun 2004). The partystate has to adopt ex post measures. As far as the source of information is concerned, anticorruption agencies rely heavily on citizens’ reports. A large number of corrupt cadres, including high-ranking officials, have been reported by citizens, and some of them have been punished. For example, between October 1997 and September 2002, about 850,000 people were disciplined for corruption.2 However, progress in anticorruption has fallen far behind people’s expectations because corruption remains a serious problem in China (Wedeman 2004). Persistently rampant corruption has been perceived by the general public as one of the most serious issues the country has to face (Lu various years). The picture regarding anticorruption in China is therefore mixed. By examining how information on corrupt agents is collected and screened in China, this chapter shows that anticorruption agencies face difficulty not only in obtaining reliable and accurate information but also in investigating corruption cases. Inadequate protection for citizens who submit reports, together with the tolerance of certain corrupt agents on the part of some leaders at each level, has compromised the state’s determination to curb corruption in spite of its claimed intolerance of corruption.

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Anticorruption in China: sources of information Anticorruption agencies in China have several sources of information on corruption. One is through the reports made by citizens, which can be signed or anonymous. Another major source is the information revealed by other corruption cases under investigation (i.e. by implication). Other sources include inspection, audit and media exposure (often of lower-ranking officials). Citizens’ reports, mainly including letters and visits, remain the most important channels of information on corruption cases. It is estimated that citizens’ reports account for 60 to 80 percent of the corruption cases investigated by the legal department. An official of the provincial procuratorate of Guangdong even claimed that virtually all cases of corruption were reported by citizens. This is because although some cases were revealed by other cases, the cases investigated earlier were initially reported by the citizens (Song et al. 2008). Similarly, some cases investigated by procuratorates that were forwarded from Discipline Inspection Committees (DICs) might also be reported by citizens initially. Table 8.1 shows the ways in which 618 cases were disclosed. These 618 cases were collected from different Chinese sources (Ju 1999; Liu 1999),3 and all the officials involved in these cases were found guilty by the courts. Compared with the large number of corrupt cadres who have been caught, the number of cadres included in our collection is rather limited. But they do show the importance of citizens’ reports in anticorruption. Among the 618 cases, about 68 percent were reported by citizens and 26 percent were revealed by other cases under investigation (i.e. by implication). In China, many corrupt cadres work in non-administrative public agencies or public firms. Table 8.1 does not show a substantial difference between officials and other cadres in terms of the ways they were caught. However, by implication or being revealed by other cases seem to be slightly more common among state officials. A possible reason is that it is difficult to report on government officials either because they may be protected by some leaders or because few people know about their corruption. However, when their corruption is revealed as an implication of other cases under investigation, Table 8.1 Sources of information on corrupt cadres Total No.

%

Officials

Other cadres*

No.

No.

%

%

Citizens’ reports By implication Miscellaneous

419 161 38

67.8 26.1 6.1

142 63 11

65.7 29.2 5.1

277 98 27

68.9 24.4 6.7

Total

618

100.0

216

100.0

402

100.0

Source: Author’s collection. Note: * Cadres in non-administrative public agencies and public firms.

Information and anticorruption in China  141 it is difficult for leaders to protect themselves from justice because the evidence against them is usually strong. The state authorities in China are clearly aware of the importance of citizens’ reports on corruption. In 1988, the procuratorate of Shenzhen City established the first reporting center in China that receives citizens’ reports on corruption. Since then, more than 3,600 reporting centers have been established by procuratorates across the country. Within 10 years, the procuratorates received 1.474 million reports on public employees’ corruption, including embezzlement (57.7 percent), bribery (26.8 percent), misappropriation of public funds (9.4 percent) and dereliction of duty (3.3 percent).4 The Supreme Procuratorate reported in 1998 that citizens’ reports accounted for 80 percent of the corruption cases investigated, and it reported in 2001 that the percentage was still as large as 70 percent.5 Given that DICs are responsible for supervising and disciplining the cadres of both state and non-state agencies, they tend to receive more reports from citizens (Manion 2004). As Table 8.2 shows, more reports have been submitted to DICs and inspection bureaus than to procuratorates. For example, in 1996, DICs and inspection bureaus received 1.8 million reports, whereas procuratorates received 297,175 reports, or 16.4 percent of the 1.8 million reports. That many important and influential cases have been handled by the central DIC has also impressed on the people that DICs are important anticorruption organizations. Nevertheless, Table 8.2 also reveals the problem of using citizens’ reports on corruption. In particular, the number of citizens’ reports eventually investigated by anticorruption agencies is rather limited. Citizens’ reports submitted to DICs and inspection bureaus are first screened by these agencies. Some of the cases are put on file for investigation and prosecution. If the cadres involved in a case are proved to have engaged in corruption, they are given party or administrative discipline. If the corruption is serious, the case is forwarded to the procuratorate for legal prosecution. All these cases belong to the category of “cases put on file for investigation and prosecution.” As Table 8.2 shows, only about 7.3 percent of the 13.9 million reports were investigated by DICs and Inspection Bureaus (IBs). In other words, most of the reports were not addressed by these agencies. According to our collection of citizens’ reports to DICs and IBs between 1996 and 2005 in 12 provinces,6 the proportion of the reports investigated each year by these agencies accounted for 10 to 15.4 percent of the total number of reports they received. As a whole, about 12.6 percent of the 6,952,200 reports were investigated during the 10 years in the 12 provinces. There is no correlation between the number of cases received by the disciplinary agencies and the number of cases that were investigated. Similarly, many of the cases reported to procuratorates were not investigated. Between 1988 and 1993, about 20.5 percent of the reported cases were investigated, whereas about 15 percent of the 1.8 million cases were investigated between 1992 and 1997. As a whole, about 16 percent of the

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Table 8.2 Reports received and cases investigated by disciplinary agencies Reports (A) To DICs* and IBs* 1996 1997 1998 2002 2003–June 2008

Cases investigated (a)

a/A (%)

1,807,577 1,826,100 1,612,000 1,488,061 7,169,000

168,389 174,320 142,000 171,066 360,000

9.3 9.5 8.8 11.5 5.0

13,902,738

1,015,775

7.3

Procuratorates 1988–1992 1993–1997 2001 2002 2003–June 2007

730,000 1,800,000 194,450 149,497 1,035,000

150,000** 268,710 36,447 43,258** 136,570

20.5 14.9 18.7 28.9 13.2

Total

3,908,947

634,985**

16.2

Total

Sources: The PRC Yearbook (1997–1999, 2003); The Work Report of the Supreme Procuratorate (various years); Fazhi ribao, June 13, 2007. Notes: * DICs: Discipline Inspection Committees. * IBs: Inspection Bureaus. ** Includes cases that were not (directly) reported by citizens.

3.9 million reports were investigated between 1988 and 2007, excluding the period between 1998 and 2000. It must be pointed out, however, that Table 8.2 only provides a rough estimation. The actual number of cases investigated by procuratorates is even smaller than that indicated in Table 8.2. This is because those cases in column 3 also include cases that were not (directly) reported by citizens (e.g. by implications, audit). In addition, the number for 1988–92 and that for 2002 not only include cases of dereliction of duty, which might not result from corruption, but also cases that were not (directly) reported by citizens. For example, if citizens’ reports account for 70 percent of the cases investigated by procuratorates as discussed earlier, the actual number of cases investigated on the basis of citizens’ reports should be less than 634,985 and the proportion of reported cases investigated should be less than 16.2 percent.

Limitations of citizens’ reports There are both technical and political reasons for most reports being ignored in China. According to my interviews with officials of disciplinary agencies, the technical reasons include the following: (1) reports that indicate only old issues that have been investigated or solved (in the view of anticorruption agencies); (2) reports that are vague or do not have a target for investigation; (3) reports that accuse specific people but with “obviously” distorted facts;

Information and anticorruption in China  143 and (4) anonymous reports that fail to provide the facts. Although these reasons can be regarded as technical, they arise from the political system. On one hand, the agents of anticorruption agencies have discretion in judging whether or not a report is technically faulty for investigation. Second, most of the reports submitted by citizens are anonymous because the citizens worry about their personal safety. The political reasons include the following: (1) the reported problems are perceived to have no serious consequences even if they are investigated; (2) it is not the right time to investigate the reported problems; and (3) there are some other factors that make it inappropriate to investigate reported cases and the cases are (temporarily) tabled with pertinent leaders’ permission. Essentially, it is up to pertinent leaders to decide whether or not to investigate some cases. Hence, leaders’ attitudes toward officials who are suspected of corruption are crucial to the effectiveness of anticorruption efforts. Regardless of the reasons for citizens’ reports being ignored, it is beyond dispute that many corrupt agents have not been investigated in time, or they have never been investigated or punished. An analysis of the problems with information collection and processing shows the impact of the political system on the operation of anticorruption agencies.

Constraints faced by citizens The successful experience in anticorruption of Hong Kong suggests that citizens’ reports have served as the crucial source of information on corruption for the ICAC. A salient characteristic of citizens’ reports in Hong Kong is that the majority of the reports are signed. According to the annual reports of the ICAC, between 1989 and 2006, the proportion of signed letters submitted to the ICAC increased from 66 percent to 73 percent. Signed reports facilitate the investigation of reported cases because it allows the ICAC to contact the people who made the reports for verification and further information if necessary. Therefore, pursuable cases account for the majority of the reported cases. As a whole, 73.8 percent of the cases reported by the citizens between 1989 and 2006 were pursuable, although not all of them were proven to be corruption cases (Independent Commission against Corruption of Hong Kong, 1989–2006). The case of Hong Kong suggests that signed reports are possible only when citizens have confidence in anticorruption agencies. Specifically, citizens are willing to give their real names when submitting reports only if they believe that the anticorruption agency has the ability to protect their personal security, and has the determination and capacity to investigate corruption cases. The ICAC was established in 1974 at a time when corruption was rampant in Hong Kong. Initially, the citizens were not certain about the agency’s ability or determination, and the proportion of signed reports was 34.8 percent in 1974 (Nie et al. 1990). With the credibility of the agency being established and strengthened through the years, however, the citizens’ trust in the agency was

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enhanced. The proportion of signed reports has also increased over the years, from 34.8 in 1974 to 61.4 percent in 1985, and then to 73 percent in 2005 and 2006. The strict protection of citizens who submit reports ensures their personal safety. As a result, most citizens who submit reports are also willing to cooperate with the ICAC or appear in courts as witnesses when necessary.7 In China, an important reason for citizens’ reports being used ineffectively is that the majority of them are anonymous. In 2000, the Supreme Procuratorate reported that about 60 percent of reports were submitted anonymously. However, various local sources show that 70 percent or more of the reports have been anonymous in recent years.8 For example, anonymous reports accounted for 76.7 percent of the reports received by procuratorates in Jiangsu province between 2007 and 2008, and it was 75.6 between 2006 and 2007.9 In Hebei province, the proportion was 73.6 percent between 2000 and 2005. In Shanghai, the proportion was 71 percent in 2005, and 76.8 percent between 2006 and 2007 (Wu 2007). Anonymous reports may not be seriously handled in China. One reason is that as mentioned above, anonymity makes it difficult for anticorruption agencies to gain more information. Second, anonymous reports place less pressure of accountability on the officials of anticorruption agencies. Anonymity may serve as an excuse for these officials not to investigate difficult cases. This is so also because it has happened that some citizens submitted anonymous reports to anticorruption agencies with false accusations.10 Hence, anticorruption agencies may believe that citizens who send anonymous reports simply do so in order to impose false charges on cadres who they do not like. The most important reason why citizens submit anonymous reports is their worry over personal safety (Wu 2007). In China, as elsewhere, cadres have the incentive to cover up their corruption by, among other things, preventing citizens from reporting their corruption. The power holders in the public sector in China are regarded as the group that has benefited most from the economic reform and opening up of China in terms of political and social advantages as well as economic benefits (Li et al. 2005: 203, 207). Therefore, they have too much personal stake in their positions. Being proven to be corrupt not only denies them all the benefits associated with their positions, but also leads them to lose their freedom or even their lives. Some officials have used all possible means to protect themselves, including taking action against citizens who submit reports. As a matter of fact, retaliation against citizens who submit reports has never stopped in China. According to the Supreme Procuratorate, between 1988 and 1992, procuratorates received 730,000 reports (see Table 8.2). In 328 cases it investigated, those who made reports imposed false charges on the cadres. In contrast, the number of cases in which action was taken against citizens by those who were reported was 2,922.11 The power holders reported by citizens are able to take action against the latter because the protection for these citizens is rather weak in China. First, there are problems with pertinent laws. For example, the threats posed by those

Information and anticorruption in China  145 who are reported to those who submit reports are not specified as a crime in Criminal Law. Only when those submitting reports are seriously hurt or their rights are seriously encroached upon will the legal department investigate the case. In recent years, procuratorates receive more than 1,000 cases in which those who submit reports are retaliated against each year (many other cases have not been submitted to the procuratorates), but only less than 5 percent of these cases are eventually put on file for investigation.12 In other words, while anticorruption agencies rely heavily on citizens’ reports, protecting their personal safety is not the top priority of the party-state in law making or law enforcement. Worse, the punishment of those officials who retaliate against those who reported them is light. For example, the legal department investigated 1,835 cases in 1991 in which those who submitted reports suffered from those whom they reported. However, only 569 people, or one person per three cases, were eventually sanctioned. In addition, only 39 of them were given legal punishment, while the others were given party or administrative discipline.13 This implies that it is not costly for those who are reported to take action against those who make the reports. Against this background, signed reports carry serious risks. Some officials who have connections with higher-level state authorities or anticorruption agencies may gain information about the citizens who report on their corruption. This is so also because some citizens may submit the same reports to different anticorruption agencies. For example, some citizens submit their reports to DICs or procuratorates at the central, provincial, city or county levels in order to maximize their chance of receiving attention from pertinent authorities. However, this mode of reporting increases their chance of being detected by the reported cadres because their tip providers may be exposed by one or more of these agencies. In addition, some reports on corrupt officials may be forwarded to lower-level agencies or even the corrupt officials themselves for a solution. The cost paid by citizens who make reports can be very high or even fatal. They may be fired by their employers if they report on the leaders of their workplaces, they may be harassed by those officials who are reported, or they may be put in jail under false charges by local authorities or local officials who have the political power. Some citizens have been harassed, wounded or killed by hired thugs. In the 1990s, there were about 500 cases in which citizens making reports or witnesses were disabled or killed each year on average, and the number has risen to 1,200 each year in recent years (Song et al. 2008). Compared with the large number of citizens’ reports, the number of such incidents may be small, but such incidents point to the persistent risks faced by those making reports. For example, an official reported the corruption of the provincial Party Secretary in Henan province in 1995. The next year, he was imprisoned in a labor camp, charged with violating the personal honor of the major provincial leader, and he was also expelled from the party. In another case, a township

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cadre reported the corruption of a city official. In 1996, this township cadre was jailed for one year, falsely charged with embezzling 3,000 yuan. After this person was released, he continued to report the city official’s corruption. In 1999, two thugs came to his home and tried to murder him, killing his wife and his son, and seriously wounding him.14 Such incidents have been covered by the media, and they can certainly discourage some citizens from making reports, especially making signed reports. An official of the Supreme Procuratorate reported in 2007 that about 60 percent of the citizens who submitted reports do not have a direct conflict of interests with the cadres who are reported. Many people who initially want to submit reports will give up when they find the miserable ending of those who have submitted reports. This whole society will have a sense of moral frustration . . . If citizens who submit reports are not protected, those 60 percent may stop reporting, and a large number of clues would be lost. This is very harmful to the investigation [of corruption cases].15 It is thus not surprising that the proportion of signed reports in China has remained steadily small over the past two decades. This largely suggests that citizens still lack confidence in anticorruption agencies. The situation in China is in striking contrast with the situation in Hong Kong. As mentioned earlier, it took about 10 years for the proportion of signed reports to rise from 34.8 percent in 1974 to 61.4 percent in 1985 in Hong Kong. The reason is that the progress of ICAC in anticorruption inspired citizens’ confidence in the organization’s determination and ability. For example, a survey in 1977 shows that 38 percent of the citizens surveyed believed that the majority of government agencies involved corruption. However, only 7 percent reported this in 1986 (Nie et al. 1990: 173).

Political calculations as a screening mechanism At other times, even accurate information may still not be acted upon by anticorruption agencies. When this happens, agencies’ authority is undermined, as is the citizens’ confidence in the agencies. If anticorruption agencies wish to win the support of the people, they have to show their determination by, among other criteria, making good use of the information provided by citizens. In Hong Kong, when the ICAC was first established in 1974, it investigated 33.3 percent of the total reports. However, the proportion of reports investigated has increased since then, and it reached 53 percent in 1988 and more than 75 percent in recent years (Nie et al. 1990: 122). In China, although the state authority at each level has made serious efforts to curb corruption and has punished a large number of cadres, their efforts have been compromised by their distinguishing between state agents. As a matter of fact, even convicted corrupt agents may not be duly punished

Information and anticorruption in China  147 (Manion 2004: 145–62). This is partly because of the political cost of punishing state agents, especially high-ranking officials. The party-state or pertinent leaders have tried to avoid “finishing off an erring comrade ‘at one blow’” or with “ruthless struggles and merciless blows” (Teiwes 1993: 489). Central leaders acknowledge some leaders’ reluctance to discipline people such as their acquaintances, capable people, well-known people and people who hold important posts. When such people have serious problems, those leaders do not take them seriously, and they may even connive in the misconduct of these people.16 The provincial Party Secretary of Hebei province complained in 2005 that such tolerance was a “virus” that undermined the “immunity” of the party. If this virus spread, it would blur the difference between the good and the bad, and would demoralize party members and officials. As a result, ugly, evil and wrong practices would not be regarded as ugly, evil and wrong, and the solidarity of the party would be seriously eroded (Wang 2005). As discussed in previous chapters, the party-state at each level pays serious attention to the issue of costs of discipline. This concern about costs has been reflected in the processing of information on corrupt agents. Table 8.3 shows the differences between high-ranking officials and lower-ranking ones. In 1996, nationwide reports on corruption that involved high-ranking officials (i.e. at the administrative level of county magistrate or higher) accounted for 16.6 percent of the total number of reports received by DICs and inspection bureaus. However, of the cases investigated, those concerning highranking officials accounted for only 4.4 percent. Not surprisingly, high-ranking officials accounted for only 3.8 percent of the total number of officials disciplined. The difficulty in investigating government officials, especially high-ranking ones, has been reflected in the fact that it is common for some citizens to make repeated reports on the cadres in order for anticorruption agencies to pay serious attention to the cases. Some citizens submit reports on corrupt cadres for years, but the case remains to be in the backburner. When citizens lose confidence in lower-level state authorities (i.e. the party committee or the Table 8.3 The discipline of cadres in China

Nationwide (1996) Reports received Cases investigated Cadres disciplined

Total number (A)

Those concerning high-ranking officials (a)*

a/A (%)

1,807,577 168,389 165,906

299,376 7,403 6,355

16.6 4.4 3.8

Source: The PRC Yearbook 1997, p. 216. Note: * Referring to cadres with an administrative rank of county magistrate or higher.

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government) or anticorruption agencies, they may approach authorities or agencies at the provincial or central levels. Repeated reports, however, are very likely to reveal the identity of the citizen who made the report. It is also common for anticorruption agencies of the provincial or central authority to forward such reports to lower-level state authorities or their anticorruption agencies. Some of the cases forwarded to lower-level authorities may be acted on, but others may be ignored. Some information submitted by the citizens may even be forwarded to the officials themselves who were reported (Wu 2007). The political rationale behind the party-state’s tolerance of some officials is partly responsible for the persistently widespread corruption in China. In our collection of 618 cases, the average number of years during which state agents engaged in corruption is 3.4 years for government officials and 2.3 years for non-government officials. One possible reason for this difference is that anticorruption agencies are more cautious in investigating corrupt party or government officials, as opposed to other cadres, which may give the former more time (Yong 2008). If corrupt agents are not caught in time or are not disciplined severely, they serve as encouraging examples to other power holders, making them believe that the risk of engaging in corruption is acceptable.

Inconsistency in disciplining malfeasant agents Inconsistency in the collection and processing of information discussed above reveals problems with the credibility of disciplining government officials in China. Such inconsistency has also been reflected in disciplining convicted officials. Lu may be right in stating that “there has not been a lack of leadership resolve to root out corruption, nor has there been any shortage of detailed, technical, even hairsplitting regulations regarding corruption” (Lü 2000). Yet, despite this leadership and the promulgation of these regulations, some high-ranking local officials have not been duly disciplined. Cheng Weigao, the former provincial Party Secretary of Hebei province, accepted bribes, protected rampantly corrupt subordinates, illegally created business opportunities for his family and forced the local Legal Department to put the person who reported his malfeasance into a labor camp for two years. Officials in the Central Discipline Inspection Commission admitted that there had been many reports of Cheng’s malfeasance, but it took several years for the central authority to decide to investigate the case, and when they did, Cheng was exempted from criminal charges and instead was expelled from the party.17 Against this background, it is not surprising that the recent removal and investigation of Shanghai Party Secretary Chen Liangyu was interpreted by some people, including local officials, as the result of a power struggle instead of a consequence of the central party-state’s commitment to wiping out corruption (Kahn 2006).

Information and anticorruption in China  149 On the other hand, other agents may face excessively serious punishment. For example, Chen Xitong, the former Party Secretary of Beijing, was sentenced to 16 years in jail in 1998. The charges included embezzling expensive gifts, a dissolute lifestyle, reaping benefits through illegal means and serious dereliction of duty. While the punishment was serious, the justifications were weak. Although Chen was charged with embezzling expensive gifts, he did not bring those gifts home but left them in his office. Hence, it is disputable whether that constitutes embezzlement. As a matter of fact, compared with most other seriously corrupt officials, Chen’s corruption was by no means serious. His imprisonment was therefore interpreted as his failure in the power struggle. Inconsistencies also exist in the punishment of seriously corrupt officials. Article 383 of the Chinese Criminal Law stipulates that those who embezzle 100,000 yuan or more or accept bribes in that amount or larger are to be sentenced to a term of imprisonment of no less than ten years. If the case is very serious (“serious” is not defined), a person convicted of this crime may be sentenced to death. To be fair, the legal department has taken into account inflation in making judgments in cases of embezzlement and bribery. Still, the enforcement of this law varies tremendously across cases, as my collection of 39 cases in which corrupt officials were seriously punished indicates. In the 9 death penalty cases between 2000 and 2004, the amount of money taken by officials ranged from 2.55 million yuan to 47.44 million yuan. In 18 cases in which officials were convicted and sentenced to death with a reprieve, the amount of money they had taken ranged from 3.92 million yuan to 19 million yuan. The 12 officials who were sentenced to life imprisonment took between 0.5 and 9 million yuan. There is much overlap in the three ranges. The former governor of Yunnan province, for example, accepted 18.1 million yuan in bribes and was sentenced to death with a reprieve, but both the Vice-Governor of Jiangxi province, Hu Changqing, and the Vice-Governor of Anhui, Wang Huaizhong, were executed for their crimes, although they had taken much less in bribes. Many other corrupt officials have been given limited sentences in jail. Differences between the cases may partially explain the discrepancies in sentencing. But the application of the law per se is insufficient to completely explain it, given that the cases are comparable. All the officials included in the analysis took bribes and most were high-ranking leaders. Their cases were normally directly investigated by the Central Discipline Inspection Commission, and their punishment was not determined by the courts but by central or provincial authorities. According to the Criminal Law, it is a crime to fail to explain the source of a large amount of income. If a person is convicted of this crime, he or she is to be sentenced to a maximum of five years’ imprisonment. Hence, one way of giving a seriously corrupt official a light legal punishment is to call some of the money the official has accepted in bribes “unexplained income.”18 On the other hand, on relatively rare occasions, less

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seriously malfeasant officials are seriously punished as a consequence of central or provincial leaders’ intervention.19

Conclusion The ever-present corruption implies that a number of conditions are required to successfully curb it (Rose-Ackerman 1999). However, a basic condition is that the government should have the determination or political will to address this menace. Such political will is particularly important for authoritarian governments that face less external or public pressure in the absence of a free press and free elections. Singapore’s success in anticorruption fully demonstrates the importance of the state’s political will. This chapter addresses a fundamental issue in anticorruption efforts, that is, assessing a government’s political will to combat corruption. It proposes an approach that focuses on the collection and processing of information on corrupt agents. In most societies, corruption cannot be entirely prevented ex ante, so ex post measures are necessary. Collecting reliable and accurate information is the precondition for ex post anticorruption. The government can better deter corruption if it is able to obtain accurate information on corruption and therefore increase the probability of corrupt state agents being caught. In many societies, “fire alarms” are the basic source of information for anticorruption agencies. However, the effectiveness of the use of fire alarms is affected by the state’s political will regarding anticorruption. Citizens who doubt the state’s determination to curb corruption lack the incentive to submit reports in the first place. It can also be that they will submit reports but in a way that reduces the risk of reporting. The concern over personal security may undermine the quality of the information provided. In China, the reasons for rampant corruption are complex, ranging from socioeconomic changes to institutional weakness (Gong 1994; Lü 2000; Manion 2004; Sun 2004). The disciplining of a large number of state agents has coexisted with the persistence of serious corruption in China. The rationale behind this mixed picture is revealed by anticorruption agencies’ use of citizens’ reports on corruption, which is the most important source of information of these agencies. On one hand, the constraints faced by citizens in submitting reports dictate that most reports are anonymous, which is not conducive to investigation. On the other hand, anticorruption agencies may also be prevented from investigating cases involving important cadres. That a large number of corruption cases have been ignored or perfunctorily handled may have led citizens to doubt the state’s capacity and determination to curb corruption. As a matter of fact, it is sometimes commonly known to the public that some officials have amassed a large amount of wealth (e.g. housing), but disciplinary agencies have rarely taken any initiative to use such publicly available information to investigate government officials. All this may undermine people’s confidence in the state’s determination and capacity to deal

Information and anticorruption in China  151 with corruption. In other words, what is important in the battle against corruption is not simply the government’s declared determination, but in reality the measures it takes against corruption that make citizens believe in its determination.

Notes 1 See the website of Transparency International: www.transparency.org/, accessed February 22, 2013. 2 The report delivered by the Central Discipline Inspection Commission to the 16th Party Congress; see www.people.com.cn/GB/shizheng/3586/20021119/869753.html, accessed May 15, 2007. 3 Other sources include: (1) newspapers: Zhongguo jijian jianchabao (1996–2000); Fazhi ribao (1996–2000); (2) magazines: Zhongguo jiancha (1994–2004); Jiangsu jijian (1994–2004). Most of these cases occurred in the 1990s. 4 Renmin ribao, July 21, 1998. 5 The 2001 Work Report of the Supreme Procuratorate. The work reports (1980– 2008) are available at the website of the Supreme Procuratorate, www.spp.gov.cn/site 2006/region/00018.html, accessed February 28, 2013. 6 These provinces are: Chongqing, Guizhou, Henan, Hebei, Hunan, Jiangsu, Shaanxi, Shandong, Sichuan, Xinjiang, Yunnan and Zhejiang. See the yearbooks of these provinces between 1997 and 2006. 7 Huanqiu shibao, December 12, 2005, p. 18. 8 Beijing qingnian bao, July 7, 2000. 9 Xinhua ribao, June 25, 2008. 10 In Sichuan 1996, for example, several thousand people who were reported by others were proved innocent by anticorruption agencies. See Sichuan Yearbook 1997, p. 37. 11 The 1994 Work Report by the Supreme Procuratorate 1994. 12 Fazhi ribao, August 4, 2007. 13 1992 Work Report of the Supreme Procuratorate, Renmin ribao, March 29, 1992. 14 Nanfang zhoumo, January 17, 2002. 15 Fazhi ribao, September 24, 2007. 16 Reported in Zhongguo jiancha (Discipline Inspection in China), no. 5, 2000, pp. 4–9. 17 Nanfang zhoumo, August 14, 2003. 18 Interviews with discipline officials in China, 2005. 19 One such suspicious case in the imprisonment of a vice governor of Sichuan province, Li Dachang, who was accused of malfeasance. See Chongqing wanbao, May 5, 2006.

References Brinkerhoff, Derick. 2000. “Assessing Political Will for Anti-corruption Efforts: An Analytical Framework,” Public Administration and Development, 20 (3): 239–52. Gong, Ting. 1994. The Politics of Corruption in Contemporary China: An Analysis of Policy Outcomes. Westport, CT: Praeger Publishers. Havel, Vaclav. 1997. “The Power of the Powerless: Citizens against the State in Central Eastern Europe”, in Majid Rahnema and Victoria Bawtree (eds), The Post-Development Reader. London: Zed Books, pp. 336–53. Independent Commission against Corruption of Hong Kong, 1989–2006. Annual Report. Ju, Bin. 1999. Fantan gongao (Reports on Anticorruption). Beijing: Zhongguo wenlian chubanshe.

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Joseph Kahn. 2006. “Shanghai Party Boss Held for Corruption in Crackdown by President against Opponents,” New York Times, September 25. Kuran, Timur. 1991. “Now Out of Never: The Element of Surprise in the East European Revolution of 1989,” World Politics, 44: 7–48. Lee, Kuan Yew. 2000. From Third World to First: The Singapore Story 1965–2000. Singapore: Times Media. Li, Peilin, Zhang Yi, Zhao Yandong and Liang Dong. 2005. Shehui chongtu yu jiejiyishi (Social Conflict and Class Consciousness). Beijing: Shehui kexue wenxian chubanshe. Liu, Bin. 1999. Jiushi niandai zhongguo fanfubai da’an jishi (Record of Big Corruption Cases in China in the 1990s). Zhuhai: Zhuhai chubanshe. Lu, Xin (ed.). Various years. Zhongguo shehui lanpi shu (Blue Book of Chinese Society). Beijing: Shehui kexue wenxian chubanshe. Lü, Xiobo. 2000. Cadres and Corruption. Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press. McCubbins, Matthew and Thomas Schwarts. 1984. “Congressional Oversight Overlooked: Police Patrols versus Fire Alarms,” American Journal of Political Science, 28 (1): 165–79. McCubbins, Matthew, Roger Noll and Barry Weingast. 1989. “Structure and Process, Politics and Policy: Administrative Arrangements and the Political Control of Agents,” Virginia Law Review, 75: 431–82. Manin, Bernard, Adam Przeworksi and Susan Stokes. 1999. “Elections and Representations,” in Adam Przeworski, Susan Stokes and Bernard Manin (eds), Democracy, Accountability, and Representation. New York: Cambridge University Press, pp. 29–54. Manion, Melanie. 2004. Corruption by Design: Building Clean Government in Mainland China and Hong Kong. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Nie, Zhenguang, Lu Ruifeng and Zeng Yinming. 1990. Xianggang lianzheng (Anticorruption in Hong Kong). Hong Kong: Zhonghuo Shuju. Quah, John. 2003. “Singapore’s Anti-Corruption Strategy: Is this Form of Governance Transferable to Other Asian Countries?” in John B. Kidd and Frank-Jurgen Richter (eds), Corruption and Governance in Asia. Basingstoke, UK: Palgrave Macmillan, pp. 180–97. Rose-Ackerman, Susan. 1978. Corruption: A Study in Political Economy. New York: Academic Press. Rose-Ackerman, Susan. 1999. Corruption and Government: Causes, Consequences, and Reform. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Song, Wei, Tan Jin and Guo Peng. 2008. “Zuigaojian cheng fanfubai libukai minzhong yubao” (“The Supreme Procurate says that citizens’ tips are indispensable to anticorruption”), Minzhu yu fazhi shibao, June 30. Sun, Yan. 2004. Corruption and Market in Contemporary China. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press. Teiwes, Frederick. 1993. Politics and Purges in China. Armonk, NY: M.E. Sharpe. Wang, Fangjie. 2005. “Hebei shengwei shuji tongpi xiaoren dezhi” (“The Provincial Party Secretary Criticized Mediocre People”), Renmin ribao, December 6. Wedeman, Andrew. 2004. “The Intensification of Corruption in China,” China Quarterly, 180: 895–922. Wu Danhong. 2007. “Jubaoren falu baohu de shizheng yanjiu” (“On the Protection of Citizens who Submit Reports”), Fazhi luntan (Legal Forum), 3: 12–17. Yong, Guo. 2008. “Corruption in Transitional China: An Empirical Analysis,” China Quarterly, 194: 349–64.

Index

‘5 types of coordinated planning’ 80 11th Five-Year Plan, the 19, 79 15th National Congress, the 44 17th Party Congress, the 19, 149 A China That Can Say No (Song et al., 1996) 63 academia 21, 24, 34, 37, 38–9, 49 academic 3, 6, 18, 26, 34, 36–7, 40, 45, 61, 63, 65–6, 75, 77, 81, 85, 116 Academy of Military Sciences 55, 66 accountability 4, 10, 38, 43, 44, 47, 48, 50, 136, 144 action 4, 6, 8, 9, 11, 14, 18, 25, 35, 40, 42, 46–9, 51, 54, 58, 61, 68, 70, 76, 81, 93–8, 100, 102–3, 105–8, 110–17, 121–2, 126, 129–30, 144–5 action context 8, 97–8 activism 8, 94–101, 103–4 administrative approval reforms 44 administrative village 73, 75, 79 advantageous groups 94 affiliations 6, 13–14, 25, 34 agency 2, 4, 26, 76, 106, 137–9, 143 agency, perspective of 2, 4 Ai, Weiwei 9 American Political Science Association 65 anticorruption 9, 136–51; efforts 9, 138–9, 143, 150; political will of 9, 136–8, 150 anticorruption agencies 136–51; information collection and processing 136–7, 143, 148, 150; political

calculations 146; punishment 136–7, 139, 145; sources of information 138, 140 anti-traditionalism 42 architects 7, 77 architectural 89 asset 5, 45, 95, 118 association 8, 111–12, 115–17, 119, 121–30 associational life 8, 101 associational space 97, 105 attitude 56, 64, 67, 76, 95, 100, 104, 143 authoritarian 7–8, 10, 57, 69–71, 86, 94, 96, 103, 121, 129–30, 136, 138–9, 150 authoritarianism 57 authority 40–4, 91, 96, 121, 125, 127, 129, 131, 137, 46, 148; rational-legal 129; traditional 129 autocracy 2, 111 autonomous 5, 16, 95–6, 106 autonomy 6, 13, 15–17, 27–8, 31, 47, 94, 98, 107, 139 balance of power 48 ‘basic’ villages 79 behaviour 1–2, 5, 8–10, 41, 76, 89, 97, 101, 104, 116, 136 Beijing 7, 31–3, 37, 39, 52, 54–6, 61–6, 69–70, 78, 81, 84, 125, 149 Beijing Daily, The 39 Beijing Institute of Public Administration 37 Beijing Municipal Government Associations Office 63

154

Index

Beijing Olympics 7 benevolent government (renzheng) 36–7, 39–40, 42 blog 4 Blue Paper on Technological Policies of China (State Council, 1985) 88 Bondiguel, Thomas 57, 60 Bray, David 7, 73 Build a New Socialist Countryside 75 built environment 7, 73, 75–81, 85, 87, 89, 91, 92 bureaucratic 4, 96 bureaucrats 5, 68, 113–14, 130 business 1, 7, 23–4, 39, 91, 100–1, 103–4, 148 business people 7, 100 cadre 8–9, 95, 99–101, 104, 113–14, 116–18, 122–30, 139–41, 144–8, 150 Cai, Yongshun 9, 136 capacity 1–2, 4, 64, 68, 99, 105, 118, 137, 143, 150 capitalist 4, 23–4, 45 censorship 62 Center for International Economic Exchanges (CIEE) 54–5, 70 Center for Peace and Development 66 Center for Research on Comparative Politics and Economics 37 Center of Chinese Agriculture Policy (CCAP) 117 central 3, 9–11, 14, 18–19, 21, 25, 28–9, 37, 39, 47, 55, 59–60, 63–4, 66, 73, 78–80, 87, 89, 98–100, 112, 141, 145, 147–51 Central Business Districts (CBDs) 7 Central Chinese Television (CCTV) 60–1, 86, 89 Central Discipline Inspection Commission 148, 151 Central Party School 39, 59, 63, 66, 134 central villages 79, 80 change 1–8, 11–12, 14–18, 21–2, 24–5, 28, 34, 37–9, 41–2, 46, 50, 52, 54–7, 63, 65–70, 75, 94, 96–7, 102, 105–6, 108, 112, 122, 128, 137, 150, channel 6, 54–5, 58–60, 62–3, 65–7, 69, 99–100, 138–40

Channel II Diplomacy 62–3 characteristics 1, 2, 23, 27, 57, 77, 114, 117 charity 4, 104 checks and balances 21, 139 Chen, Liangyu 148 Chen, Xitong 149 Cheng, Weigao 148 Chiang Ching-kuo Foundation 3 China 1–4, 5–12, 14–17, 20–6, 28–47, 49–73, 75–81, 83, 85–9, 91–101, 103, 105–17, 119, 121–3, 125, 127–37, 139–52 China Academic Journals (CNKI) 36, 37 China Association for Science and Technology (CAST) 55 China Core Newspapers 38, 39, 40 China Defense 57, 66 China Institute for International Strategic Studies (CIISS) 55 China Institute of International Studies (CIIS) 55, 60 China Institutes of Contemporary International Relations (CICIR) 55, 60 China National Committee for Pacific Economic Cooperation (CNCPEC) 55 China Quarterly 56, 57 China Reform Forum (CRF) 63 China’s Strategy 57 Chinese Academy of Military Sciences and the People’s Liberation Army 55, 61 Chinese Academy of Sciences (CAS) 55 Chinese Academy of Social Sciences (CASS) 55 Chinese Academy of Urban Planning and Design 78 Chinese Association of Public Administration 37 Chinese Communist Party (CCP) 1, 3, 9, 11–12, 58, 64, 106 Chinese Criminal Law 149 Chinese foreign policy 6, 54–8, 62–5, 67–71 Chinese Foreign Policy Think Tanks and China’s Policy Toward Japan (Liao, 2006) 57

Index  155 Chinese Media Net, Inc. (CMN) 57 Chinese People’s Association for Foreign Affairs 60 Chu, Shulong 61 circle 6, 32, 35, 54, 58, 62, 67, 70, 113 citizen 3, 8, 17, 20–1, 41, 46–8, 50, 64, 68, 73, 76, 81, 84–5, 97, 105, 107–8, 110, 113, 122, 127, 137–48, 150–2 citizen participation 8, 81 citizens’ reports 137–45, 150 civil 7–8, 17, 19, 21, 25, 27–8, 42–5, 48, 50, 52–3, 56, 67, 70–1, 88–91, 94, 103, 106, 108–10, 112, 114–15, 125, 131, 134 civil society 7, 25, 42–5, 48, 52–3, 56, 67, 70–1, 94, 112, 115, 131, 134 class 6, 8, 10, 12–17, 19–34, 56, 67, 71, 81, 86–7, 95, 97–8, 101–2, 106, 114, 122–3, 152 class analysis 22–5, 27, 32 class antagonism 23–4, 28 class politics 22 class struggle 22–4 collective 8, 14, 41–2, 57, 97–8, 104–6, 110–17, 119, 121, 123, 125–31, 133–5 collective action 42, 97, 106, 108, 110–11, 114, 116 collective petitioning 110–19, 121, 123, 125–30 collective resistance 116, 131 commercialization 12 Commission on Global Governance 42 communism 48 Communist Youth League (CYL) 8, 104 community 3–5, 7–8, 39, 54, 56, 58, 63–9, 73, 83, 88–109, 113, 129 Community Action Council 95 community elites 3, 5 community governance 7–8, 91, 94–5, 98, 105, 108 competence 54 competition 4, 38, 56, 88, 132 competitive 45, 47, 56 concept 3–4, 6–7, 10, 14–15, 22–4, 26–7, 34–40, 42–50, 54, 57, 61–3, 76–9, 86, 91, 111–12, 128 confidence 4, 122–3, 138–9, 143, 146–7, 150

Confucianism 42 contemporary China 7, 77, 81, 92, 111–13, 116, 121 control 1, 4, 6, 14, 16, 26, 29, 34, 40, 44, 46, 62–4, 66, 69, 89, 96, 103, 105, 110–12, 119, 121, 125–7, 130–1, 134, 152 corrupt cadres 139, 140, 147 corrupt officials 145, 149 Corrupt Practices Investigation Bureau 138 corruption 9, 21, 136–52 cost 4–5, 28, 42, 46, 69, 80, 97, 106, 110, 122, 137–8, 145, 147 country 1, 3, 4, 6, 9, 21, 24–6, 34–5, 50, 55, 62, 65, 67, 75, 77, 79, 86, 91, 93, 113, 121, 129–30, 13, 135, 139, 141 credibility 48, 129, 133, 138, 143, 148 critical spirit 13, 15–16 criticism 9, 13, 15–17 cross-provincial survey 117 Cui, Weiping 38 Cultural Revolution, the 3, 59, 62, 129 danwei system 88, 98 debate 6, 12, 14, 21–2, 27, 35, 56, 59–61, 63–5, 69–70, 94, 129 decentralized governing framework 99 decision 3, 29, 36, 39, 46–8, 50, 57–8, 65–6, 68–9, 96, 99, 103, 105, 113, 122, 124, 133 deliberative 47–8, 94–5, 98–101 deliberative assembly 99–101 democracy 9, 25, 30, 32, 34–5, 38, 44–52, 94, 103, 108–9, 121, 133–4, 152 Deng era 7, 57–8, 64, 67–8; post-Deng era 58 Deng, Liqun 23, 25 Deng, Xiaoping 18, 20, 57, 59, 64 democratization 25, 27, 45–8, 51, 94 department 12, 29, 64, 77, 138, 140, 145, 148–9 Design Standards for Urban Residential Areas 88 developer 73, 76–8, 89–92

156

Index

development 3–4, 6–9, 11, 18–20, 26, 28–31, 33–4, 43, 45–6, 48–9, 51, 55–9, 62, 66–7, 70, 72, 75–81, 84–6, 88, 90–3, 108, 124, 133–4, 151 Development Research Center of the State Council 55 Diaoyu Islands protests 64 dibao 19 dictatorship 3, 4, 22, 46 digital 85 Ding, Dajun 57 diplomacy 61–3, 70–1 diplomat 60, 63, 68 direction 3, 14, 22–4, 29, 36, 52, 54, 57, 62–3, 69, 78, 111 disadvantaged groups 19–20 discourse 3, 5–7, 9–10, 12–13, 15–17, 19–23, 25–6, 27–9, 34–6, 38, 40, 49–50, 75–8, 81, 86, 88, 91–2, 95, 134 discourse-centered approach 6, 13 discussion 1, 7, 27, 29, 49, 56, 58–64, 66, 69–70, 77, 111, 115, 123, 128, 134 dissident 9, 12, 14, 16, 28–9 Division of Public Diplomacy 63 domestic affairs 6, 54 East Asia 10, 31, 55, 61–2, 65, 67, 69–70, 130–1, 133, 152 Eastern Europe 2, 55, 65, 67, 111, 116, 133, 151–2 economic 1–5, 7, 9–11, 15, 17–21, 25–6, 28–30, 33, 36–8, 42, 44–5, 54–9, 68, 70–1, 77, 79–81, 84, 97, 111, 113, 115, 118, 121, 132–4, 137, 144, 150 Economic Research Institute of the State Development and Reform Commission 26 economy 2–4, 7, 23–5, 30–2, 44–5, 67–8, 73, 92, 106, 117, 132–4, 152 education 11, 19, 24, 29, 68, 79, 81, 84, 100, 104–5, 127 egalitarianism 18, 20 elite 1–10, 12–17, 20–1, 23, 25, 28–9, 34–6, 38, 40, 49–50, 73, 75–8, 81, 94–8, 100, 102–5, 110–11, 113–16, 122, 128–30, 136 elite accountability 136

elite activism 94, 96, 100, 105 elite constructive activism 95–6, 98, 104–5 embedding 122–8 engagement 8, 66, 70, 91, 94–6, 99–101, 103–5 environment 7, 10, 36, 38, 50, 55–7, 68, 70, 73, 75–81, 84–5, 89–92, 111, 121 epistemic communities 7, 54, 66–70 establishment 8, 14–17, 27, 30, 39, 43, 55 ethnic unity 5 Europe 2, 54, 65, 67–8, 89, 111, 115–16 evaluation system 60 ex ante 9, 137, 150 expatriate 7 expert 3, 5, 12, 60–1, 67, 75, 124 expertise 12, 54, 60, 77, 79, 91 ex post 9, 137, 139, 150 fabric 9, 76–7, 99–100 faction 14, 68, 96 Fang, Lizhi 16 finance 11, 57 fire alarms 137–8, 150, 152 Folk Dance Society 8, 125–6 Foreign Ministry, the 58, 60, 63 Foucault, Michel 76 Foundation for International Strategic Studies 66 framing 8, 95 freedom of the press 48 functionaries 3, 7 generation 12, 16, 21, 56–7 Gill, Bates 56, 66 Glaser, Bonnie 56, 59 Global Forum of Chinese Political Scientists 65 Global Times, The 39 globalization 4, 6, 34, 38–9, 49, 59, 70 good governance 3, 6, 33–51; components of 43–4; definitions 36, 41 good government 6, 35–7, 40, 42–4, 46, 51–3 govern 1, 2, 5, 42, 90–1

Index  157 governance 1–10, 13, 29, 34–46, 48–51, 76, 88, 91–2, 94–5, 98–100, 103–5, 116, 136; self-governance 46, 99, 103, 105 government 5–9, 11–13, 16–22, 27–32, 34–44, 46–56, 58–60, 62–5, 68–9, 71, 73, 75–7, 81, 89, 91–2, 94–6, 98–9, 101, 103–6, 109, 111–12, 115–19, 121–2, 124–31, 133, 135–40, 146–8, 150–2 government control 63 Graham, Sarah Ellen 63 grassroots 3, 5, 8, 94, 98–101, 103, 105, 107, 109–11, 113–14, 116, 122, 128–9 grassroots elites 3, 5, 8, 110–11, 122, 128–9 grassroots politics 8, 105 Gries, Peter 68 group 1–2, 4–8, 12–13, 15, 17–21, 24, 26–7, 29, 34, 44, 46, 54, 63–6, 78, 81, 89, 94–5, 97–8, 100–7, 110, 112–13, 115–16, 118–19, 121, 125, 127–30, 133–4, 136, 144 group socialization 104 growth 1, 3–4, 25–6, 35, 38, 44, 48, 67, 102, 113, 133 Gu, Mu 62 Guangming Daily 39 Guo, Yingjie 6, 12, 34 Haas, Peter 68 Hangzhou Urban Planning Exhibition Center 84 harmonious society 10, 19, 26, 29–30, 33, 44, 88 He, Shuangmei 35, 41, 43–4, 46–7, 51 He, Zengke 37, 41, 43, 47–8, 51 hierarchy 2, 5, 9, 24, 84, 139 home 74–5, 79, 90, 106, 124, 146, 149 homeowner 95–6, 99, 106, 109 homeowner mobilization 96 Hong Kong 3, 7, 31, 64–5, 71, 94, 100, 107–9, 132, 138–9, 143, 146, 151–2 housing management 97 housing privatization 98 Hu, Angang 13 Hu, Changqing 149 Hu, Jintao 18, 57–8, 79–80 human rights 9, 41, 66, 68

ideas 4–5, 7–8, 13, 32, 34–6, 39, 43, 46, 49–50, 64, 66, 89, 102, 128 identity reconstruction 8, 95, 105 ideology 3, 23, 111 ideological orientations 6, 13–14, 34 impact 6, 10, 12–13, 21, 28–30, 34, 36, 37, 50, 54, 57–8, 60, 66–70, 76, 79, 94–5, 104–5, 113–14, 116, 123, 128–9, 143 incorruptibility 43, 44 Independent Commission Against Corruption (ICAC) of Hong Kong 138, 143 inequality 3, 10–11, 17–22, 25, 28, 30–2 influence 1, 3, 6–7, 13–14, 16, 21, 29, 35–6, 40, 45, 50, 54–61, 63, 65–6, 68, 70, 72, 76–7, 79–80, 88, 94, 96, 100, 105, 113, 122, 126, 129–31 information 9, 26, 63–4, 66, 68, 83, 85, 92, 97, 102, 113, 115, 117–18, 122–3, 136–41, 143–51 information collection 9, 136–8, 143, 148 infrastructure 78–9, 83, 85–6, 98, 104–5 inner circle 6, 54, 58, 67, 70 innovation 10, 79, 81, 86, 94–5, 98, 100, 108 Inspection Bureaus (IBs) 141–2 institution 1–2, 6, 10–11, 13–4, 21, 25, 29, 31–2, 34, 37, 39, 41–4, 46–7, 51, 54–6, 60, 65–6, 70–1, 76, 95–6, 98, 100, 104–5, 110, 112–14, 122, 129–34, 136, 150 interest groups 8, 110 intellectual 1–3, 5–6, 10, 12–36, 38–40, 42, 49–50, 54, 57–9, 64, 69–70 intellectual elites 6, 12–17, 20, 23, 25, 28–9, 34–6, 38, 49–50 interaction 4, 9, 35, 42, 54, 58, 68, 70, 76, 94–5, 97–8, 102–3, 105–6, 110, 114 intermediate associations 8, 110–25, 127–30 international 1–5, 10–11, 35–6, 38–9, 42, 36, 49, 54–8, 60–1, 63–72, 80, 101–4, 106, 134, 137, 151 International Monetary Fund (IMF) 45 Internet 4, 37, 57, 64–5, 68, 72–3, 110

158

Index

Japan 55, 57, 61–5, 67–9, 71–2 jargon 81, 84 Jia, Qingguo 61 Jiang, Zemin 18, 20, 57–8 Jiao, Guobiao 64 Jin, Canrong 61 Johnston, Alastair Iain 56, 67 journal 36–7, 40, 57, 61–3, 81, 111 judiciary 1, 41, 48 judiciary independence 48 jurisdiction 14, 41, 47, 73, 77, 80, 84, 98 justice 2, 6, 12–13, 15, 17–23, 25, 27–31, 33–4, 43–4, 53, 76, 92, 141 Kellner, Thierry 57 Kelley, John Robert 63, 70 Kim, Jong Il 62 Kissinger, Henry 54 knowledge 1–3, 6, 13, 15–16, 27, 29–30, 34, 38, 42, 54, 60, 75–6, 92, 126 Koolhaas, Rem 86 Kou, Chien-wen 1–2, 4, 6, 8, 10 labor 4, 118, 145, 148 land 55, 63–4, 73, 75, 77–80, 86–9, 92, 97, 108, 116, 127–8 law 7, 32, 36, 38, 41, 43–52, 75, 78–80, 112, 114, 121 leader 1–11, 14, 16, 18–21, 34, 39, 40, 44, 56–60, 62–5, 69, 80–1, 91, 96, 103–4, 111, 113, 117–18, 122, 126, 128, 130, 139–41, 143, 145, 148–50 leadership 2–3, 5, 9, 11, 14, 16, 18–21, 40, 57–8, 63–4, 80–1, 91, 96, 106, 148 Lee, Kuan Yew 138–9 leftist 25, 62 Legal Department, the 140, 145, 148–9 legitimacy 1, 9–10, 20, 38, 43–5, 48, 116, 121, 129–30, 137 Leninism 22, 80 Li, Cheng 61 Li, Keqiang 54 Li, Zhaoxing 66 Luo, Yuan 61 liberal democracy 34–5, 38, 44–50 liberalism 20, 45, 68

Liberation Daily 39 liberty 45–8, 50–1 limited government 46, 48 literature 2–3, 15–16, 21, 35, 38–42, 44–5, 111, 115–17, 129 Liu, Bingyan 16 Liu, Chunrong 7, 94 Liu, Junning 13, 16, 38 Liu, Mingxing 8, 110 Liu, Xiaobo 9, 16, 29, 134 Long, Yongtu 26 Luo, Haocai 37 Ma, Licheng 62 management 33–4, 36, 39, 41, 44–6, 48, 51–2, 57, 61, 77–8, 84, 88–91 Management Methods for Newly Built Urban Residential Xiaoqu (1994) 88 Mao, Shoulong 37–8, 43–4, 46–7 Mao, Yonghong 89–91 Mao, Zedong 22, 57 Maoist 15, 18, 20, 78, 80, 98 Mao-Zedong-Thought 22 market 1–4, 6, 10, 23–4, 30–1, 33, 39, 44–5, 59, 67–8, 81, 112 Marxism 22, 23, 25, 80 master plan for the entire nation 78 master planning 7, 75, 77–8, 91 mechanism 6–7, 47, 57, 68–9, 72, 97, 105, 115, 130, 137, 146 media 4, 8, 19, 21, 24, 26, 28, 40, 47, 49, 57–8, 60–2, 64–5, 68, 70, 78, 86, 95, 97–8, 100, 140 middle class 8, 26, 56, minimal state 38, 45–7, 49–50 ministry 55, 58–60, 63–4, 66, 68, 77, 80, 88 Ministry of Foreign Affairs 55, 59 Ministry of Housing and Urban–Rural Development 77, 80 Ministry of National Security 55 Ministry of State Security 59 mobility 1, 2, 11, 13 mobilization 96–9, 104–6, 113–14, 116 modernity 77, 91–2, 114 movement 2, 5, 12, 45, 85, 106–10, 112, 115 Mulvenon, James 56, 66

Index  159 Nanjing Urban Planning Exhibition Center 82–3 National Congress 44 National Defense University 66 National Land Resource Law 79 National People’s Congress 16 nationalism 64, 68 natural villages 73, 79–80, 118 Naughton, Barry 56 neighborhood 8, 94–101, 104–6 neighborhood activism 94, 96, 97 neighborhood governance 95, 98–100, 104 neighborhood politics 94–7, 104 neoliberalism 45 newspaper 37–40, 60–1, 151 network 8, 42, 45, 54, 56, 60–1, 65–7, 76, 86, 93, 98, 102–6, 108, 114–16, 119, 121 New Left, the 13 new villages 7 Nobel Prize 9, 29, 65 non-governmental organization (NGO) 1, 42–4, 62–3, 70, 80, 112 norms 1, 5, 10, 98, 106 North Korea 60, 62, 65 Old Left, the 23 one-party rule 9, 34–5 opinion 1–3, 5–6, 34, 60, 63, 65 opinion makers 1–3, 5–6, 34 Organic Law of The Villagers’ Committees of The People’s Republic of China, The 114 organization 1, 4–5, 8, 28, 35–6, 38, 40–4, 46, 49, 56, 58–9, 62–3, 65–6, 70, 80, 96, 106–7, 109, 111–12, 122, 124, 139, 141, 146 orientation 6, 13–14, 18, 34, 96, 99 origin 35, 75, 77, 88 outer circle 6, 54, 58, 70 overlapping consensus 20, 25 overseas 7, 51, 65–6, 69, 89, 103, 106 participation 2–5, 8, 36, 44, 46–8, 50–2, 57–8, 68–70, 81, 84, 94–100, 103, 106, 110, 112–14, 116 participatory 8, 51, 94, 98–101

party line 6, 13–15, 17, 26, 28–9 party-state 4, 6, 10, 12–19, 21–2, 24–9, 32, 34–6, 38–40, 43–4, 47–50, 69, 114, 137, 145, 147 paradigm 6, 7, 25, 28, 35–6, 43, 45, 92 People’s Congress, the 40 People’s Daily, The 39, 54, 62 People’s Republic of China (PRC) 54, 136 perception 1–3, 5, 7, 9–12, 22, 27, 49, 91, 100 performance 1, 45, 121, 125 petition 4, 8, 38, 56, 85, 88, 110–17, 119, 121, 123, 125–30 Pharr, Susan 67, 71 planner 7, 75–8, 81, 84–6, 88, 92 pluralistic 41, 56, 67 policy 1, 3–7, 9–14, 18–20, 26–7, 29, 45, 50, 54–70, 78–80, 84, 92–3, 96, 99–100, 104, 106, 117, 127–8 policy making 1, 3, 5–7, 10, 54–7 political will 9, 86, 136–8, 150–1 politician 1, 2, 5 politics 1, 8, 15, 22, 27, 29–32, 34, 37, 41, 45–7, 51–2, 55, 57, 62, 68, 84, 94–9, 103–5, 121, 126 politics in command 41 population 24, 64, 79, 86, 91, 100, 106, 117–18, 139 position 2–4, 6, 9, 12–14, 16, 20, 22, 24–5, 27–9, 31, 34, 42, 47, 50, 59, 61, 67, 75, 96, 99–100, 106, 113–14, 116, 125–6, 128, 130, 144 poverty 10 power 1–4, 9–11, 13, 15–16, 21, 23, 25, 29–30, 41–4, 46–50, 61, 69, 76, 80, 85, 92, 94, 105, 113–14, 121, 130, 136, 138–9, 144–5, 148–9 principle–agent relationship 130 privatization 2, 11, 96, 98 procedure 47, 78 procuratorate 140–2, 144–6, 151 Prodi, Romano 54 professionalism 7, 68, 70 proletariat 15, 22–3 Propaganda Department of the Chinese Communist Party 64 protest 16, 64, 72, 85, 96, 111–12, 114–16

160

Index

public participation 36, 44, 46–8 punishment 136–7, 139, 145, 149 Qian, Qichen 60 Qin, Hui 38 rational choice model 97 recommendation 55, 59 recruitment 2 reform: economic 36; political 9, 21, 34, 36, 44 reformers 24, 34–5, 37–44, 46–50 regime 2, 4, 15, 45, 92, 130, 136–7 Regulations on Letters and Visits 113 retired government officials 7, 62–3 report 3, 6, 19, 35, 41–2, 44–5, 51, 59–60, 64, 69, 95, 99, 103, 109, 137–48, 150–1 resident 7–8, 19, 54, 61, 63, 73, 77, 79, 84, 86–91, 93–7, 99–107 residential 77, 79, 84, 86–91, 96, 100, 106–7 residential district 86 residential estates 77, 86, 88–9, 106 Residents’ Committee (RC) 94, 106 resistance 75, 112–13, 116, 130 resource 1, 18–22, 42, 79, 94, 97, 105–6, 122, 124, 126, 128, 136–7 responsiveness 38, 43–4 revenue 5, 118 Rights Protection Associations 126 role 3, 5–6, 8, 10–16, 18, 21–3, 27–9, 34–5, 38, 46, 49–50, 54–7, 63–7, 70–2, 75, 77–8, 84, 89, 95–7, 101, 108, 110, 112, 114–16, 121, 125–6, 129, 138 rule by man 44 rule of law 36, 38, 43–6, 48–50, 112, 121 rulership (tongzhi) 6, 34, 36–7, 40 rural China 5, 8–9, 75, 110–11, 113–15, 117, 119, 121–3, 125, 127–35 rural development 75, 77, 80 Saunders, Philip 56, 59 Scalapino, Robert 2 scholar 1–3, 6–7, 10, 27, 36–7, 39, 57–67, 69–70, 94, 104, 111–12, 115, 130 Schwartz, Frank 67, 71

science 10, 35–7, 51, 55, 58, 61, 65–6, 76, 79–81, 92–3, 97, 111, 114 sector 5, 77, 144 self-governance 46, 99, 103, 105, 122 self-governing 99, 122–8 service 23, 41, 43–4, 48, 78, 96, 98, 101 Shambaugh, David 56 Shanghai 7, 8, 55, 60, 65–7, 81, 84–5, 89, 95, 98–104, 106, 144, 148 Shanghai Institute for International Studies (SIIS) 55 Shen, Guofang 63 Shi, Yinhong 62 Singapore 7, 63, 100, 138–9, 150 social 1–10, 12–13, 15–22, 24–9, 34–8, 41–4, 46, 48, 54–6, 58, 61, 65–7, 76–7, 79–80, 88, 92–3, 96–9, 101–6, 110–16, 119, 121, 129–30, 136–7, 144 Social Justice and The City (Harvey, 1973) solidarity 94, 122, 147 Song, Degong 37, 52 space 8, 14, 76, 78, 84, 87, 89, 95, 97–8, 101–2, 105, 107, 112, 130–1 spatialization of government 76 spirit 13, 15–6, 68, 79, 88, 99 stability 3, 5, 8–9, 17, 19–21, 27–9, 43–4, 90, 94, 121–3 state 2, 4–6, 9–18, 20–2, 24–32, 34–6, 38–50, 54–5, 59, 65–9, 77–8, 86, 88, 94–6, 99–101, 104–5, 110, 112–17, 121, 127, 136–7, 139–41, 145–8, 150 State Council, the 55, 59, 65–6, 78, 88, 95 statecraft 5–6, 34 state-mobilized volunteering 96 status 5, 7–8, 12–15, 21, 23, 57, 62, 70, 96–7, 100, 106, 110, 113, 118, 122 strategic 2, 5, 9, 55, 57, 62, 66, 68, 78–9, 81, 86 strategy 4, 14, 57, 61, 130 Strategy and Management Research Society 61 stratum 15, 22, 24–7 street office 98–103, 105–6 structure 8, 20, 24–6, 41, 56, 76, 84, 87, 110, 139 Sun, Liping 21

Index  161 Sun, Zhe 57–8 supervision 84, 113, 136 Supreme Procuratorate 141–2, 144, 146, 151

vision 14, 75, 77, 91, 99 voice 14, 58, 61, 63, 99 voluntary 95, 98–9, 101 volunteering 96

Taiwan 3, 7, 61, 63, 65–6, 69, 100 Tao, Yu 110 territory 7, 64 theory 7, 23, 25, 30, 37–9, 42, 45, 80–1, 87, 93, 97, 104, 121, 126 theory of scientific development 7, 80–1 think tank 6–7, 54–70 Tiananmen 12, 16, 131 de Tocqueville, Alexis 97, 114–16 township 47, 78, 118, 124, 126, 145–6 trade 4–5, 26, 36, 59, 104 tradition 15–16, 112, 128 transformations 3, 98 transformers 35, 37–8, 45–50 transparency 4, 10, 36, 38, 43–4, 47–8, 50, 137, 151 Transparency International 137, 151 Tsinghua University 21, 29, 37 Twitter 4 two-class scheme 24, 26

Wang, Fuqing 66 Wang, Huaizhong 149 Wang, Hui 13 Wang, Yukai 37 Wang, Zaixi 66 Wang, Zhongwen 62 Weber, Max 15, 121, 129 Wen, Jiabao 18 Wen, Tiejun 13 Wenhui Daily 39 West, the 4, 7, 45, 55, 68–9, 79, 85, 114 Women’s Federation 8 work 18, 20, 24–5, 34, 47, 50, 60, 63, 65, 76, 88–9, 95, 99–100, 102–3, 114–15, 125, 129–30, 133, 140, 151 world 2, 4, 5, 14, 17, 22, 35–6, 38–9, 41, 44–5, 49, 51, 55, 59, 63, 68, 80, 86, 106, 130 World Bank 35–6, 44–5, 49, 51 World Trade Organization (WTO) 36, 59 Wu, Jiaxiang 38

Unhappy China (Song et al., 2009) 63 United States, the 54, 60–1, 63, 65, 67–8 urban 7–8, 75–88, 91–99, 105–6 Urban and Rural Planning Law 7, 75, 78–80, 92 urban community building (UCB) 94 urban planning 75–88, 91–2 Urban Planning Exhibition Centres 77, 81, 84–5 Urban Planning Law, the 75, 78 utopian 7, 77, 86 value 1, 12–14, 16, 27–8, 43, 48, 50, 88, 101–2, 104, 115–16 view 15, 20, 24, 27–8, 41, 45, 58, 62, 81, 91–2, 116, 126, 142 village 5, 7–9, 47, 73, 75, 78–80, 86, 91, 106, 111–14, 116–27 village cadres 8, 113–14, 117, 122, 125–6, 128–30 visibility 89, 102

Xiao, Gongqin 38 xiaokang society 26 xiaoqu 77, 86–90, 92 Xiong, Guangkai 66 Xu, Youyu 13, 38, 46 Yan, Jiaqi 16 Yang, Jiechi 60 Yang, Jiemian 60 Ye, Kedong 66 Yu, Keping 21, 35, 37–8, 41–4, 46–8, 51 Zang, Xiaowei 1 Zeng, Peiyan 54 Zhang, Xin 37 Zhang, Wei 57 Zhang, Ye 67 Zhang, Yesui 66 Zhanlüe yu Guanli (Strategy and Management) 61

162

Index

Zhao, Dingxin 64 Zhao, Quansheng 6, 54 Zheng, Bijian 63 Zhengfu Canshi-shi (Governmental Consulting Division) 59 Zhili yu shanzhi (Governance and Good Governance) 37

Zhong, Nanyuan 57 Zhou, Mingwei 66 Zhou, Wenzhong 66 Zhu, Chenghu 61 Zhu, Xueqin 13, 38 Zou, Lan 57

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