Horrible extract from upcoming horrible book
From
Saul Thomas <stthomas@nerdshack.com>
Date
Mon, 08 Jan 2007 08:15:57 +0800
User-agent
Thunderbird 1.5.0.9 (X11/20070102)
This is a horrible article from Sunday's Observer. I forward it because
some of you who are teachers might want to treat it as a specimen for
analysis and discussion (I am thinking of Dan Vukovich in particular).
Saul
-------------
http://observer.guardian.co.uk/review/story/0,,1984044,00.html?=rss
New China. New crisis
In the last decade China has emerged as a powerful, resurgent economic
force with the muscle to challenge America as the global superpower.
But, in his controversial new book, Will Hutton argues that China's
explosive economic reforms will create seismic tensions within the
one-party authoritarian state and asks: can the centre hold?
Sunday January 7, 2007
The Observer
For more than 2,000 years, China's conceit was that it was the celestial
kingdom, the country whose standing was endowed by heaven itself and
whose emperors tried to reproduce heavenly harmony on Earth. All China
basked in the reflected glow; foreigners were barbarians beyond the
gilded pale who should not be allowed even to learn the art of speaking
and writing Chinese.
When I first visited China in the autumn of 2003, such articles of
Confucian faith seemed very far away, submerged by the lost wars and the
26 humiliating treaties of the 19th century, subsequent communist
revolution and now the economic growth to which Beijing's motorway rings
and Shanghai's skyline are tribute. This was a new China that had
plainly left behind obeisance to the canons of Confucianism and the
later cruelties of Mao. More than three years and a book later, I am
less convinced.
Article continues
All societies are linked to their past by umbilical cords - some
apparent, some hidden. China is no different. Imperial Confucian China
and communist China alike depended - and depend - upon the notion of a
vastly powerful, infallible centre: either because it was interpreting
the will of heaven or, now, of the proletariat. In neither system have
human rights, constitutional checks and balances or even forms of
democracy figured very much. As a result, China has poor foundations on
which to build the subtle network of institutions of accountability
necessary to manage the complexities of a modern economy and society.
Sooner or later, it is a failing that will have to be addressed.
China is both very confident about its recent success and very insecure
about its past, a potent mix that breeds a deep-seated xenophobia and
shallow arrogance. China's economy in 2007 will be nearly nine times
larger than it was in 1978 when Deng Xiaoping won the power struggle
with the Maoists and began his extraordinarily sinuous, gradualist but
successful programme of market-based economic reforms, groping for
stones to cross the river, as he called it. China is now the fourth
largest economy in the world - after the United States, Japan, and
Germany - and is set to become the second largest within a decade. More
than 150 million workers have moved to China's booming cities and 400
million people have been removed from poverty. It is a head-spinning
achievement.
China is the new factor in global politics and economics, and its rulers
and people know it. It now has more than $1 trillion of foreign exchange
reserves, the world's largest. It is the single most important financier
of the United States' enormous trade deficit. It is the world's second
largest importer of oil. Before 2010, it will be the world's largest
exporter of goods. It is, comfortably, the world's second largest
military power. Last year, the Pentagon's four-yearly defence review
stated that China is the power most likely to 'field disruptive military
technologies that could over time offset traditional US military
advantages'. A new great power is in the making, but one whose pursuit
of its self-interest takes the amorality of power to a new plane. It is
not just the Chinese who should be concerned about its institutional and
moral failings; all of us should be.
In China, you can almost smell the new self-confidence: it is in the
skyscrapers built in months; it is in the brash and unashamed
willingness to rip off and copy Western brands; it is in the
well-groomed and inscrutable demeanour of the rich entrepreneurs,
self-confident officials and assured academics.
I sat in a Beijing bar just over a year ago with a typical member of
China's new class of rich businessmen who double up as members of the
party, a combination of commercial and political power that China knew
well as the old Confucian mandarinate, now strangely reproducing itself
in a new guise after Mao tried to eliminate it forever in the Cultural
Revolution.
In surprisingly fluent English and with his Mercedes waiting outside, he
praised China's communist regime and its curious mix of capitalism and
communism with all the enthusiasm of a Tory businessmen praising
Thatcher. Chinese corruption? Think of Enron and party-funding scandals
in London, he declaimed. Double standards between communist rhetoric and
practice? What about the US and Britain's invasion of Iraq, and
Guantanamo Bay? What I failed to realise, he insisted, betraying both
assurance and insecurity, is that China will not surrender again the
natural rank that it should never have lost. Western values,
institutions and attitudes were being revealed for being straw men,
blown away by resurgent China and the pragmatism of its communist leaders.
Yet Western values and institutions are not being blown away. The
country has made progress to the extent that communism has given up
ground and moved towards Western practices, but there are limits to how
far the reformers can go without giving up the basis for the party's
political control. Conservatives insist that much further and the
capacity to control the country will become irretrievably damaged; that
the limit, for example, is being reached in giving both trade unions
more autonomy and shareholders more rights. It is the most urgent
political debate in China.
The tension between reform and conservatism is all around. For example,
the party's commitment now is no longer to building a planned communist
economy but a 'socialist market' economy. The 26,000 communes in rural
China, which were once the vanguard of communism, were swept away by the
peasants themselves in just three years between 1979 and 1982, the
largest bottom-up act of decollectivisation the world has ever
witnessed. Hundreds of millions of peasants are, via long leases, again
farming plots held by their ancestors for millenniums. China's
state-owned enterprises no longer provide life-long employment and
welfare for their workers as centrepieces of a new communist order; they
are autonomous companies largely free to set prices as they choose in an
open economy and progressively shedding their social obligations.
Equally amazing, China's communists have declared that the class war is
over. The party now claims to represent not just the worker and peasant
masses but entrepreneurs and business leaders, whom it welcomes into its
ranks. The party refers to this metamorphosis as the 'three represents':
meaning that the party today represents 'advanced productive forces'
(capitalists); 'the overwhelming majority' of the Chinese (not just
workers and peasants); and 'the orientation ... of China's advanced
culture' (religious, political and philosophical traditions other than
communism).
Party representatives say that the country is no longer pledged to fight
capitalism to the death internationally, but, instead, wants to rise
peacefully. China has joined the World Trade Organisation and is a
judicious member of the United Nations Security Council, using its veto
largely in matters that immediately concern it, such as Taiwan.
But for all that, it remains communist. The maxims of
Marxist-Leninst-Maoist thought have to stand, however much the party
tries to stretch the boundaries, because they are the basis for
one-party rule. Yet the system so spawned is reaching its limits. For
example, China's state-owned and directed banks cannot carry on
channelling hundreds of billions of pounds of peasant savings into the
financing of a frenzy of infrastructure and heavy industrial investment.
The borrowers habitually pay interest only fitfully, and rarely repay
the debt, even as the debt mountain explodes. The financial system is
vulnerable to any economic setback.
Equally, China is reaching the limits of the capacity to increase its
exports, which, in 2007, will surpass $1 trillion, by 25 per cent a
year. At this rate of growth, they will reach $5 trillion by 2020 or
sooner, representing more than half of today's world trade. Is that
likely? Are there ships and ports on sufficient scale to move such
volumes - and will Western markets stay uncomplainingly open? Every
year, it is also acquiring $200bn of foreign exchange reserves as it
rigs its currency to keep its exports competitive. Can even China
insulate its domestic financial system from such fantastic growth in its
reserves and stop inflation rising? Already, there are ominous signs
that inflationary pressures are increasing.
These ills have communist roots. It is the lack of independent scrutiny
and accountability that lie behind the massive waste of investment and
China's destruction of its environment alike. The pace of
desertification has doubled over 20 years, in a country where 25 per
cent of the land area is already desert. Air pollution kills 400,000
people a year prematurely. A hacking cough in the Beijing smog or the
stench when the wind comes from the north in Shanghai are reminders of
just how far China still has to go.
Energy is wasted on an epic scale. But the worst problem is water.
One-fifth of China's 660 cities face extreme water shortages and as many
as 90 per cent have problems of water pollution; 500 million rural
Chinese still do not have access to safe drinking water. Illegal and
rampant polluting, a severe shortage of sewage treatment facilities, and
chemical pollutants together continue to degrade China's waterways. In
autumn 2005, two major cities - Harbin and Guangzhou - had their water
supplies cut off for days because their river sources had suffered acute
chemical spills from state-owned factories.
Enterprises are accountable to no one but the Communist party for their
actions; there is no network of civil society, plural public
institutions and independent media to create pressure for enterprises to
become more environmentally efficient. Watchdogs, whistleblowers,
independent judges and accountable government are not just good in
themselves as custodians of justice; they also keep capitalism honest
and efficient and would curb environmental costs that reach an amazing
12 per cent of GDP. As importantly, they are part of the institutional
network that constitutes an independent public realm that includes free
intellectual inquiry, free trade unions and independent audit. It is
this 'enlightenment infrastructure' that I regard in both the West and
East as the essential underpinning of a healthy society. The individual
detained for years without a fair trial is part of the same malign
system that prevents a company from expecting to be able to correct a
commercial wrong in a court, or have a judgment in its favour
implemented, if it were against the party interest.
The impact is pernicious. The reason why so few Britons can name a great
Chinese brand or company, despite China's export success, is that there
aren't any. China needs to build them, but doing that in a one-party
authoritarian state, where the party second-guesses business strategy
for ideological and political ends, is impossible. In any case, nearly
three-fifths of its exports and nearly all its hi-tech exports are made
by non-Chinese, foreign firms, another expression of China's weakness.
The state still owns the lion's share of China's business and what it
does not own, it reserves the right to direct politically.
Mark Kitto, a former Welsh Guardsman, has found at first-hand how
difficult it is to sustain private ownership in China. He built up three
Time Out equivalents in Beijing, Shanghai and Guangzhou but, after seven
years of successful magazine publishing, learnt last year that he was
about to become a partner of the state. The only terms on which his
licence to publish could be retained was if he were to accept a de facto
takeover from China Intercontinental Press, controlled by China's State
Information Council, the propaganda mouthpiece of the Communist party.
It did not matter that he owned the shares, wanted to retain his
independence and had been careful to stay within the party's publishing
guidelines. The party now wanted control of his magazines and simply
took it. It is an example repeated many times over.
China must become a more normal economy, but the party stands in the
way. Chinese consumers need to save less and spend more, but consumers
with no property rights or welfare system are highly cautious. To give
them more confidence means taxing to fund a welfare system and conceding
property rights. That will mean creating an empowered middle class who
will ask how their tax renminbi are spent. Companies need to be subject
to independent accountability if they are to become more efficient, but
that means creating independent centres of power. The political
implications are obvious.
China's future is shrouded in uncertainty. My belief is that what is
unsustainable is not sustained. Change came in the Soviet Union with the
fifth generation of leaders after the revolution; the fifth generation
of China's leaders succeed today's President Hu Jintao in 2012. No
political change will happen until after then, but my guess is that
sometime in the mid to late 2010s, the growing Chinese middle class will
want to hold Chinese officials and politicians to account for how they
spend their taxes and for their political choices. What nobody can
predict is whether that will produce another Tiananmen, repression and
maybe war if China's communists pick a fight to sustain legitimacy at
home or an Eastern European velvet revolution and political freedoms.
Either way, China's route to becoming a world economic power is not
going to proceed as a simple extrapolation of current trends.
This book has been something of a personal intellectual odyssey. My
hypothesis when I began was that China was so different that it could
carry on adapting its model, living without democracy or European
enlightenment values. I have changed my mind and now see more clearly
than ever the kinds of connection I identified in The State We're In
between economic performance and so-called 'soft' institutions - how
people are educated, how trust relations are established and how
accountability is exercised (just to name a few) - are central. They are
equally important to a good society and the chance for individual
empowerment and self-betterment.
Early in my research, I tried out the still-emergent thesis at a small
dinner in Lan Na Thai, one of the restaurants in Shanghai's Ruijin guest
house, a complex of refurbished old mansions and traditional pavilions
in the French quarter where communist leaders reputedly once ate and slept.
Over stir-fried curried chicken and crispy fried flying sea bass, the
Chinese guests repeated politely and persuasively that China was making
up new economic and political rules. Afterwards, I chanced to have a few
words alone with one of the local rising government stars as we walked
out of the complex. He kept his eyes on the ground. 'Don't allow
yourself to be dissuaded, despite what you have heard. You are right
that China is not different. I want my children to see a China with
human rights and democratic institutions. And I am not alone.' He jumped
into a taxi and was gone.
I have often thought about that chance exchange. Britain and the West
take our enlightenment inheritance too easily for granted, and do not
see how central it is to everything we are, whether technological
advance, trust or well-being. We neither cherish it sufficiently nor
live by its exacting standards. We share too quickly the criticism of
non-Western societies that we are hypocrites. What China has taught me,
paradoxically, is the value of the West, and how crucial it is that we
practise what we preach. If we don't, the writing is on the wall - for
us and China.
China's quest for oil
China's foreign policy is increasingly driven by the need to feed its
growing appetite for oil. General Xiong Guangkai, deputy chief of the
Chinese general staff, has said that China's energy problem needs to be
taken 'seriously and dealt with strategically'.
That means less reliance on the Middle East; less transportation of oil
via sea-lanes policed by the US navy; more capacity for the Chinese navy
to protect Chinese tankers; and more oil brought overland by pipeline
from central Asia.
Over the past two years, China has pulled off a string of strategic oil
deals. In April 2005, Petro China and Canadian company Enbridge signed a
memorandum to build a $2bn 'gateway' pipeline to move oil from Alberta
to the Pacific Coast. In Venezuela, President Hugo Chavez is to build a
Chinese-financed pipeline to the Pacific coast through Colombia, having
given China oil and gas exploration rights in 2005. Saudi Arabia
surrendered to Chinese courtship in 2004 and accorded exploration rights.
In Sudan, a major source of oil, China's blind eye to human rights and
mass murder if it hinders its interests is demonstrated by Zhou
Wenzhong's comment when Deputy Foreign Minister about the situation in
Darfur where more than 250,000 have died.'Business is business,' he
said. 'We try to separate politics from business and, in any case, the
internal position of Sudan is an internal affair, and we are not in a
position to influence them.'
Wrong: China has substantial influence on Sudan if it chose to exercise
it. It does not, a commentary on China's approach to foreign policy and
an awesome warning of the future if an unreconstructed China became yet
more powerful.
Tiananmen: the legacy
The image of a single student halting a tank in Tiananmen Square is one
of the most arresting in modern history. But the protests spread well
beyond Beijing for six weeks in spring 1989 to encompass demonstrations
in 181 cities.
The party and army were divided over how to respond; 150 officers openly
declared that they would not fire on demonstrators after martial law was
declared, and at least a third of the central committee wanted to reach
a compromise with the protesters. The party's then general secretary,
Zhao Ziyang, proposed a partial meeting of demands for reform. Nobody
should be killed.
That was not the view of Deng and the party elders - the eight
'immortals', veterans of the Revolution. A 'counter-revolutionary' riot
had to be suppressed. But before Deng could act, he had to leave Beijing
to ensure that army groups 28 and 29, personally loyal to him, would
provide the core of the force rather than the uncertain army groups
based around the capital. Once in place, Zhao was then brutally deposed,
remaining under house arrest until his death in 2005. Martial law was
imposed on 19 May and a fortnight later the tanks rolled into Tiananmen
Square. Official estimates were that 5,000 soldiers and police officers
were wounded and 223 killed. Civilian losses - 2,000 wounded and 220
killed - were lower. Many still languish in prison.
Tiananmen is the event that cannot be discussed in China; websites
mentioning it are blocked. It was no 'counter-revolutionary riot' but a
demand for freedoms that infected all China and very nearly succeeded.
Current leader Hu Jintao and his successors know they are not Deng and
cannot command the loyalty of key elements of the army in the same way.
Their best strategy is to deliver growth and jobs while trying to keep
the lid on China's growing but still disconnected social protests.
Whether the policy will carry on working is the open question asked
daily in Beijing's inner circles.
· An edited extract from The Writing on the Wall: China and the West in
the 21st Century to be published by Little, Brown on 15 January, £20.
©Will Hutton 2007