Author: David Bandurski

Now Executive Director of the China Media Project, leading the project’s research and partnerships, David originally joined the project in Hong Kong in 2004. He is the author of Dragons in Diamond Village (Penguin), a book of reportage about urbanization and social activism in China, and co-editor of Investigative Journalism in China (HKU Press).

Bathhouse Boss

In December 2010, numerous websites and forums in China ran a post about Shang Hao (尚皓), the boss of a state-owned enterprise in Shenyang who apparently lives a life of luxury despite the fact that the enterprise is seriously in arrears on tax payments. The post said Shang had set up his office in a local spa, spending around 8,000 yuan a month on relaxing baths and other services. Responding to the allegations, Shang told Chinese media ambiguously: “There were extenuating circumstances at the time, and I didn’t dare talk about matters in the office.” Shang has been dubbed “Bathing Shang” by Chinese web users. In the following cartoon, posted by artist Chen Chunming (陈春鸣) to his QQ blog, a blissful bather lounges naked in a tub labelled “bathhouse” as he drinks a glass of wine and sets fire to RMB bills. The imperial official’s cap atop the bather’s head reminds us that the SOE boss is also part of the official bureaucracy.

Civil service exams, a test of credibility

China’s civil service examination and hiring system has lately experienced all sorts of interesting and strange problems. In some cases, testing and hiring procedures are clearly rigged. In others, the favors are less obvious, with curiously detailed and tailored requirements seeming to point certain candidates right to the job.
Taken all together, this strangeness and inconsistency amounts to a frightening prejudice in favor of the sons and daughters of sitting officials and the powerful. Just days ago a citizen named Wang Peng (王鹏) was arrested across provinces after blowing the whistle on local fraud relating to the civil service exam in Shaanxi’s Wuzhong prefecture. The wrongful case was quickly resolved, but it nevertheless exposed serious defects in our civil service examination system.
The history of China’s imperial examination system stretches back more than 1,300 years. In ancient times, the so-called imperial examinations were referred to as “elective” (选举) [or meritocratic], and this “election” [or meritocratic principle] was at the very core of China’s ancient system.
Therefore, people have referred to ancient Chinese society as a meritocratic society (选举社会). In any dynastic period, society could maintain relative stability so long as this meritocratic system was fair and impartial.


[ABOVE: a painting depicting testers for the imperial examination during the Song Dynasty (960-1279AD).]

Before the Cultural Revolution, China’s university entrance examination system worked in much the same way as the ancient imperial examination system, and virtually all those who tested in and completed their studies became national officials. At the end of the Cultural Revolution, in the midst of the division and confusion, there was a rush to reinstate the college entrance examination system and reestablish order in Chinese society.
In today’s society, college graduates go off on their own to seek work, and the old system in which graduation led naturally to a government position is a thing of the past.
College examinations are no longer imperial examinations. But the civil service examinations have emerged to take the place of the old imperial examination system. In fact, our civil service examinations are modeled somewhat on civil service exams in the West (文官考试), but Western civil service exams in turn were modeled to some extent on the ancient Chinese imperial system. Therefore, the civil service examination should take the original place of the college entrance examination before the Cultural Revolution, becoming a national exam for government service.
Strictly speaking, civil service examinations in China began as early as the Beiyang Period (北洋时期) of the Republican Era, during which time exams were introduced for tax officials and foreign affairs personnel. Also during the Republican Era, a special testing academy was established handling examinations for top county government officials. But those were times of war and division in which military matters held sway, and it was impossible for a civil service examination system to take root.
In the era of economic reform and opening changes were again introduced to the civil service exam system, and this has gone on for well over a decade now. Up to now, however, our society has continued to focus its energy on the university examination system, and college entrance exams are regarded as an imperial examination of sorts. Civil service exams are undertaken independently by various local government departments and offices, with little or no coordination. Each office does its own thing, throwing standards to the wind.

[ABOVE: The first crop of prospective university students take the re-instituted college entrance exam after the Cultural Revolution.]
The fact that civil service examinations have become such a hot thing in China in recent years is not at all a good thing. Naturally, China has its own unique reasons for the way things are. As national attention has turned to civil service examinations in China, the whole system has been exposed as a hideous mess suffering from all sorts of abuses and anomalies. And the consequences of this are too serious to overlook.
When imperial examinations were first introduced over 1,300 years ago, they were standardized nationwide from the get-go, and the reasoning behind this has been clear ever since. For a system so core to the imperial bureaucracy, if consistent standards were not applied across the empire, there could be no way to ensure their fairness and rigorousness.
The history of imperial examinations shows us that if testing agencies, locations, topics, supervision, material, grading and the publishing of results were not handled with the strictest care, and if the toughest penalties were not imposed on those abusing the system, it was impossible to ensure that the government bureaucracy employed the best talent available in society. This is why even the most miniscule abuses could cause an uproar, or even open unrest, among Chinese scholar-bureaucrats, inviting broader social instability.
Today, the civil service examinations organized by various government departments across the country are a boon for fraudsters. Even if organized with the best of intentions, its nearly impossible for exams to escape the stain of nepotism and favoritism. Power and self-interest have infiltrated the testing system, and fairness has been the first casualty.
Many people have naturally come to see these tests as a mere formality, and believe that how well you test makes little difference anyway if you don’t have the right government connections. As a result, a civil service examination system originally conceived to ensure fairness, and by extension social stability, has already become a source of resentment and instability.
In the modern world, standardized college entrance examinations are no longer of great importance. But standardized civil service examinations are a pressing matter of the moment. And building such a system would not be difficult.
This article was originally published in Chinese at Nanfang Dailyand is available also at Zhang Ming’s blog.

You First

Global negotiations over action on climate change in 2010 have been plagued by differences between developed and developing nations over who should be asked to shoulder the burden of cuts in emissions. Developing countries have been reluctant to promise emission cuts, citing the impact on necessary economic development. Many developing countries say the developed nations of the West have asked developing nations to shoulder unreasonable responsibilities. In this China Daily cartoon, posted by artist Will Luo (罗杰) to QQ.com, an armor-clad knight representing the West shoves a Chinese peasant forward at the tip of his lance to face a towering green dragon representing carbon emissions. The Chinese peasant is used to represent to plight of developing nations under the demand for global emissions cuts.

No free speech, no political progress

In recent years, courses in public governance at Chinese universities have become a fiercely debated issue. The area of public governance has expanded on both the research and the teaching sides, and as the number of research topics has ballooned, so has available funding. As a result, many Chinese universities have expanded their course offerings on the subject. Given this trend, teachers often have little choice but to broaden their course offerings public governance, grabbing their respective pieces of the pie.
Public governance courses are offered with a mind to improving students’ acceptance and understanding of our existing political and administrative system, but in fact there’s little way of knowing what impact these courses actually have. My understanding is that most students have a strong aversion to
the courses. Those opting to take them do so only to satisfy basic requirements for the conferment of their degrees, and the teaching methods employed by course instructors are necessarily dull, constricted as they are by political necessity — if instructors attempt teach more openly and creatively, they risk “breaking with form” and are courting trouble. Instead, teachers stick rigidly to the rigid course materials.
Even more serious is the fact that the inflexible theories taught in these courses do not engender in students the idea that the study of politics is a process of truth seeking and rational exploration. Inevitably, certain precepts cannot be questioned. Facing a chasm between theory and practice, in fact, we’ve all become two faced. We engage in a kind of double-dealing, paying lip service to one set of facts and ideas, and harboring a completely different one in our hearts.
This disconnect concerns the mental integrity and health of everyone in our country, and this is an issue we should all confront.
Reforms to the political curriculum have always proceeded slowly. One important reason for this is that policy-makers in this area have their hands tied by a dominant pattern of discourse (话语模式) in our country that remains virtually unchanged. Breaking through old patterns of speaking and thinking is incredibly difficult.
For any nation, the basis for reaching new breakthroughs in political ideas is freedom of speech, freedom of thought and freedom of social and scientific research. Without these basic preconditions, it is difficult to search for new ideas.
Even more, what we need in China’s university system are courses that urge students toward a higher path of knowledge, courses that elevate the spirit. What steps we can take to create such a curriculum is a question everyone at our universities, both teachers and administrators, should actively seek answers to.
In Taiwan in the past there were the “Three Principles of the People” — the principles of nationalism, democracy and the people’s livelihood — and education in the party line of the Kuomingtang, and these were utterly inflexible. Later, however, change gradually did come and university courses grappled with such questions as what it means to be a citizen, what makes for a fair nation and government, and how to use institutions and culture to ensure that all people can live in a society with dignity.
In order to change our own system, we must gain a new understanding of what kind of society we ultimately want to build, what our value goals ultimately are, and then we must think about how to organize our curriculum, how we can create a whole new generation of citizens who are sensible and have strong characters.
Students, regardless of their courses of study, should understand why we need a government, what obligations a government has toward its people, what sorts of limits must be placed on the power of government, why we must have freedom of speech and of the press, how we can protect those freedoms, and how we can maintain a balance between social order and individual freedom.
This article was part of a five-part September 2010 series by five writers on the issue of public governance education in China, its importance and present limitations. The full series, published in Guangzhou’s Time Weekly, can be found at China Elections and Governance.

Untouchable Prosperity

The first Global Wealth Report from the Credit Suisse Research Institute said in December 2010 that average per capita wealth in China had reached US$18,000, and that China would be a “big driver” in an forecast 61 percent increase in overall global wealth up to 2015. Inside China, the response to the report was less than enthusiastic, as real wealth has yet to materialize for real (versus statistical) “average” Chinese. The so-called “three big mountains” of housing, healthcare and education are still major expenses for the vast majority of Chinese, and statistical prosperity looks, as some have said, rather like “the reflection of the moon on the surface of the water.” In the following cartoon, posted by artist Fan Jianping (范建平) to his QQ blog, an “average” Chinese, crushed under the weight of the “three mountains,” crawls toward a mirror held by a (Swiss?) gentleman in a nice blue suit. In the mirror, which is labeled “18,000 US$ per capita,” gold coins are piled up, mercilessly teasing the poor Chinese man.

Are Chinese media a public nuisance?

Late last month Kong Qingdong (孔庆东), a China studies professor at Peking University known most recently for his part in the nationalist bestseller Unhappy China, courted criticism from journalists and intellectuals in China when he said point blank during an interview that, “Right now journalists are a major public nuisance in our country.” Not stopping there, Kong said that, “If these journalists were all lined up and shot, I would feel heartache for not a single one of them.”
The focus of Kong’s criticism was Guangdong’s Nanfang Media Group, which has long had a reputation for more outspoken coverage of hard news and a stronger tradition of in-depth and investigative coverage. Continuing his shower of invective, Kong said: “I believe that the people of China should sue the Nanfang newspaper group, which every day defiles the revolutionary martyrs [of the country], besmirches the Party and the national government, and debases the Chinese people.”
The Nanfang Media Group operates a number of what are arguably China’s most respected professional publications, including Southern Metropolis Daily, Southern Weekly, Southern Metropolis Weekly and the province’s official Nanfang Daily.
Kong’s remarks were in response to a question posed to him about statements made by Wang Lijun (王立军), the top official in Chongqing’s Public Security Bureau, during a police conference on October 16, 2010. In his speech, Wang Lijun said that in the future his agency would launch a lawsuit against any media and journalist who attacked the reputation of the Chongqing Public Security Bureau or the civil police force (民警). If individual civil police officers were singled out for attack, said Wang, the officers would bring a suit against the journalist responsible in the courts, and the Public Security Bureau would sue the media organization.
Wang Lijun’s threats, now referred to as his “double action theory,” or shuang qi lun (双起论), sparked a discussion in China’s media about increasing pressures facing the practice of “supervision by public opinion,” or yulun jiandu (舆论监督), the use of the media to monitor power.
Professor Kong’s remarks on the media and journalists essentially threw support behind the hardline attitude of Chongqing’s top police official.
Following Kong Qingdong’s attack on the media, Chinese came out on both sides of the argument, some agreeing that the media had become a problem and others arguing that the monitoring of social and political issues is an important role of the news media. Many Chinese seemed to agree, in any case, that the tenor of Kong’s criticism was uncivil — and unbefitting a professor at a leading Chinese university.
Kong’s suggestion that no one should have moral compunctions about the execution of professional journalists is backgrounded by the unfortunate fact that attacks on journalists have increased in recent years in China.
An editorial posted on the Guangming Daily website yesterday said that “‘double action’ supporter Kong Qingdong is way off base.” The editorial, which suggested Kong had gotten a dizzying injection of ego with the publication of Unhappy China, said: “In today’s China, we don’t have too much media reporting of government, police and other power organs, we have too little.”
Another editorial published in Guangzhou’s Yangcheng Evening News yesterday, cautioned readers about the not-so-subtle Cultural Revolution overtones in Professor Kong’s remarks.
“Kong Qingdong has made no secret of the fact that he is infatuated with the culture of the Cultural Revolution and beautifies the Cultural Revolution era,” the editorial said. “These calumnies that have so shocked people and filled them with unease are legacies of the language of the Cultural Revolution.”

Double Action (against media and journalists)

On October 16, 2010, Wang Lijun (王立军), the top official in Chongqing’s Public Security Bureau, gave a speech during a police conference in Chongqing in which he said that in the future his agency would launch a lawsuit against any media and journalist who attacked the reputation of the Chongqing Public Security Bureau or the civil police force (民警). If individual civil police officers were singled out for attack, said Wang, the officers would bring a suit against the journalist responsible in the courts, and the Public Security Bureau would sue the media organization. This he referred to as “double action.” Wang Lijun’s remarks sparked a discussion in China’s media about increasing pressures facing the practice of “supervision by public opinion,” or yulun jiandu (舆论监督), the use of the media to monitor power.

Government job, tailor-made

According to a recent news report from China News Service, China’s number-two official newswire, CCP discipline inspectors are now looking into a recent “tailor-made” job advertisement posted by a county-level government in Fujian’s Ningde City (宁德市). The job advertisement in question, posted for a government position in Pingnan County (屏南县), specified that the right job candidate would have “obtained a master’s degree overseas, specialize in international accounting, have college English band four, possess residency papers from Pingnan County, be female, and under the age of 25.” The advertisement quickly created a sensation online, where Chinese Internet users pointed out that “only the daughter of XX leader in Pingnan would be qualified for the position.” In this cartoon, posted by the Kunming-based studio Yuan Jiao Man’s Space (圆觉漫时空) to QQ.com, a young woman whose legs end in an official stamp, a symbol of public office, admires herself in the mirror as her father, a government official, looks on in admiration, giving the thumbs-up.

Homework hanky-panky

On December 1, 2010, Guangdong’s official Nanfang Daily newspaper reported that as computer use has become more and more widespread in China, Chinese students are increasingly turning to the Internet for help with homework, cutting corners in the learning process to the concern of parents and teachers. In the following cartoon, posted by artist Shang Haichun (商海春) to his QQ blog, a helping hand reaches out of the screen of a computer that reads “Online Help” and writes “homework answers” on a student’s paper.