Thirty years ago, as China’s economy tottered on the edge of insolvency, Deng Xiaoping stepped in and fashioned order out of chaos. He called for robust development of the economy in order to save both country and Party. It has never been smooth sailing, however, and voices have clamored from time to time about the need to be clear about our path ideologically, about whether China is “surnamed Capitalism or surnamed Socialism.”
At each critical juncture we have come to, the courageous Deng Xiaoping would pull out with his “black cat and white cat” theory. He would urge everyone to shut their mouths and stop bickering about whether China is “surnamed Capitalism or surnamed Socialism,” all the while actively pushing economic reform and drawing lessons from the experiences of other countries.
Today, thirty years on, China has reached another critical juncture. We have made wondrous achievements in economic development. But this development has, at the same time, exposed the unsuitability of our political system. Government controls are now seriously out of joint with China’s ever rising and expanding civil society.
In this moment, President Hu Jintao and Premier Wen Jiabao, among others, have emphasized repeatedly that China must move forward with the process of opening and reform, and that China must also deepen political reforms. And also in this moment, so reminiscent of the clamor thirty years ago, we hear certain people standing up and saying we need to distinguish clearly between socialist democracy (社会主义民主) and Western democracy (西方民主).
What a striking echo of thirty years ago! Which should we accept, and which reject? Remember, Yang Hengjun has taught us that when we cannot see the road ahead, we must turn our gaze back on the past.
The difficulties facing us now are no less significant than those that faced us thirty years ago. It’s only that the problem now concerns political reform rather than economic reform.
Political reform is reform centering on democracy, freedom and rule of law. It is something that concerns the fate of 1.3 billion people, the fate of our nation, and the fate of every member of the Communist Party of China. If we lend any credence today to those vested power interests that would hold our nation hostage, if we listen to those people sitting in their rooms and relying on a book written by some German more than 100 years ago to chart a path along which 1.3 billion Chinese must travel, well then, the “dead end” that Premier Wen spoke about can’t be too far off.
The most recent edition of Seeking Truth (求是) includes an article bylined “Autumn Stone” (秋石) entitled, “The Basic Character and Superiority of the Democratic Politics of Socialism with Chinese Characteristics.” The article says that we must “make a clear distinction between the democratic politics of socialism with Chinese characteristics and the democracy of Western capitalism.” “Autumn Stone” is in fact the pen name for a certain Peking University professor working with several editors and journalists at Seeking Truth. The essay is a collective product of this group.
I’ve always had strong views on “refraining from disputation” (不争论). My feeling is that so long as everyone has the same basic animus, speaking up for our country and our people rather for their personal vested interests, then moderate, fair and reasonable debate should be encouraged. When I read this essay in Seeking Truth, however, I detected at many points an utter indifference to reality, a disregard for common sense, and even an outright spuriousness. I had to step up and say a few things, both as a citizen and as a Party member of more than twenty years.
Are there really only two kinds of democracy in the world?
To start off, I must acknowledge that the authors do concede that democracy is the global trend, and a goal Chinese have looked to for more than a century. As they point out, the key question is how to achieve democracy, and what kind of democracy. After that, they suggest that China has only two roads and models before it, one being democracy with Chinese characteristics, the other being a totally Western style of democracy (全盘西化的民主).
Having read up to that point I was completely at a loss for words, because they had — after the manner of a street fight — established their premise and then gone on to argue it through. Through this sleight of hand they remove the need for argument altogether. With their premise established at the outset, they’ve effectively won the argument.
Based on everything I know, the “totally Western” style of democracy the authors have such a problem with has precious few converts anywhere in our 1.3 billion population, including among those who are ardent supporters of democracy. Where are these people who are advocating the total Westernization of their country? Or advocating the total anything-ization of their country?
I would like to ask: When did America ever totally anglicize? Is French democracy a complete Americanization? Can the democratic systems of Europe and the democratic system of the United States be broad-brushed with this label “Western democracy”? Can we even say that Japan’s democracy, fashioned under the grip of the United States, is a “totally Americanized” form of democracy? The same question goes for the other democracies of Asia, Africa and Latin America, including Chinese Taiwan.
The authors use a falsely dualistic, black-and-white logic to establish a supposed “total Westernization” as their hated enemy. Then they set up democracy with Chinese characteristics as the only alternative to this monstrous enemy.
In fact, every country has its own unique character and circumstances. All countries show differences in degree of economic development. The qualities and characters of their people are different. Their historical factors are different. And this means that the democracies that emerge in various countries are different.
But the authors of the Seeking Truth article are concerned with more than just unique characteristics. Their objective is to launch an attack against the very concept of “democracy,” using nice-sounding phrases to steal away with the agenda. And who are you robbing of the agenda? If you really want to declare that “autocracy” is “democracy,” then the Chinese character for “black” might just as well mean “white.” Just wait and see how many countries in the world will argue this point with you.
What you really need to be clear about is this — Is your so-called democracy, regardless of its special characteristics, the same basic thing other countries with their own systems and understanding of democracy are talking about when they say “democracy”? If not, I suggest you use some other word. Why must you press your hot face against the cold backside of Western democracy? What is your purpose in trying to hijack the discourse power in terms of the definition of this word?
The principal here is simple. You can’t just pull an old, worn-out pair of shoes out from under the bed and say, look, this is democracy. You cannot brandish a rifle and force everyone to repeat after you, inculcating the idea into our children’s minds at school, that this old pair of shoes is “democracy.” What age do you think we live in? Calling an ass by a horse’s name is taking a page from the almanac of 2,000 years ago.
What is the “true people’s democracy”?
I don’t know where the fee came from for this great work in Seeking Truth, but not only does it call an ass by a horse’s name — it also plays the game of calling a horse by an asses name. The essay employs all sorts of terms that are neither here nor there. Like the “true people’s democracy.” You tell me, is that not a joke?
Democracy was defined in the Chinese-language dictionary long ago as “rule by the people,” but they want to take one “people” and use it to restrict another “people.” They don’t rest there either. They have to add on the word “true” as well. They leave our heads spinning. We can’t make out who “the people” are, or who the people who are the true people are. We’re all completely confused. They are the only ones who aren’t confused, because clearly it’s they who presume to represent “the people,” and to realize the “true people’s democracy.”
The authors say at the outset that they want to show that Western democracy is not the “true people’s democracy.” Actually, though, there’s no reason for them to bother. Look back decades and you’ll find that no Westerner has ever claimed that their form of democracy is the “true people’s democracy.”
The essay emphasizes over and over again that Western democracy is the democracy of the bourgeoisie, a democracy manipulated by the rich, and that “presidents are all people with money, or agents of people with money.” They offer no more evidence than that because one size fits all. If it’s the wealthy George W. Bush stepping into the presidency, he’s a rich man. And if it’s the once-poor Bill Clinton or Barack Obama stepping into the presidency, they are agents of the rich. You have only to step into the presidency to be an agent of the rich. Their logic is ever-triumphant.
They talk about the West’s democracy for-hire, and they talk about how Western publics have already recognized the fraudulent nature of Western democracy. They cite as evidence the fact that turnout for presidential elections in the United States stands at around 50 percent. This, incidentally, is the only place in the essay that they use figures from the West to disparage Western democracy. In China, of course, you can’t conduct polls, but you can in the United States. Wouldn’t you understand this if you just went over and asked Americans?
Not only does a weak public appetite for elections not suggest that the quality of democracy is poor, but quite the opposite, only in mature democratic nations would you see this sort of thing happen. In all newly-emerged democracies the level of election turnout is extremely high (just look at democratic countries outside the West), because these new voters want to get a handle on the direction of the country and ensure they get the leaders they want. But in the West, where civil society development is robust, election turnout is inevitably lower. Candidates standing for election all cater to the public, and their policy positions often show little clear difference, so voters find it difficult to make a choice. The vast majority of those who choose not to vote do so because they believe it makes very little difference who they pick.
To combat low voter turnout, Australia has imposed fines of 50 Australian dollars on those who fail to vote — that’s about 300 RMB — so Australia now has the highest voter turnout in the world. But Australia, with the world’s highest voter turnout, has now found itself in the same pickle, unable to distinguish the winners from the losers, with no party having a clear majority, much like the U.S. presidential elections 10 years ago. This tells us that the people have matured, and the candidates have also matured.
This attitude of apathy toward candidates is something quite different from what the writers of the Seeking Truth essay imagine to be hard evidence of the fundamental failure of democracy. These guys just can’t tell horses and cows apart. According to what they are suggesting, the voting “people” of the West have two choices before them. The first, everyone votes together and elects as president a candidate whose ambition is to realize socialism with American characteristics; The second, you advocate depriving them of this voting right they don’t seem to care for. I guarantee you that if you place these choices before them, every single American will spit in your face, and the whole country will turn out on election day.
Next year is the hundredth anniversary of the Chinese people’s pursuit of democracy and science. Over the past century China has traveled a winding and wicked path, one major reason being that our rulers have wielded false democracy to cheat the people, taking advantage of our lack of education and our economic frailty. Even today, this fraud is effective. But China has made progress toward democracy nevertheless, and we can see this in the progress the people of our country have made, in their ever-stronger sense of civic consciousness, and in the new appetite and understanding they have of democracy. They are no longer so easy to hoodwink.
And you choose this moment to reach under the bed and drag out this stinking pair of shoes. You say to the people of China, look, this is democracy.
I say to you as a Party member of twenty years, and as a citizen, that this “democracy” of yours will only bring chaos and destruction to us all.
This is a condensed version of an essay posted at Yang Hengjun’s Blog.
[Frontpage photo by Magalie L’Abbé available at Flickr.com under Creative Commons license.]

Why must you press your hot face against the cold backside of Western democracy?

In the following essay from the most recent edition of the official CCP journal Study Times, published by the Central Party School, Gao Xinmin (高新民) discusses the ways the Internet and other new media have brought subtle but important changes to China’s political culture.

The opportunities and challenges of new media for the Party
By Gao Xinmin (高新民)
Study Times (学习时报)
Over the past few years, linking up the process of Party building (党的建设) with new media of which the Internet is most representative form, has become an important trend in Party building. There have been many cases of leaders interacting online with with Web users. The provincial propaganda office of Guangdong province has cooperated with Guangdong China Mobile to launch “Online Study World” (网络学习天地), [a platform dedicated to the study of the theory of socialism with Chinese characteristics]. Guangdong’s Zhanjiang City (湛江市) has reported live on reports on the work and progress of top Party leaders at the county level through television and Internet TV, allowing the public to directly monitor the ruling Party. The relationship between new media and Party building has drawn attention again and again.
In his speech to the 17th Party Congress, President Hu Jintao said: “The ever-increasing level of information networking today has presented challenges as well as opportunities to Party building.” New media, including the Internet, mobile phones as newly emerging forms of propagation media (传播介质), have not only changed the way people communicate, but have also changed the way people live and work, bringing a total transformation that directly raises a whole range of serious tests for Party building.
For example, against the background of a diversity of social values, new media have already become collection and distribution centers for thought, culture and information, and tools for the amplification of public opinion in society. They are a direct challenge to the Party’s thought leadership and to traditional methods of channeling public opinion. Traditional thought and education originates at the upper levels, with the representatives of organizations, but in the Internet age anyone can voice their views and influence others.
With traditional print and broadcast media, censorship of content and the use of specific organizational methods to channel and influence topics of communication is understandable. But the topics of Internet communication are far more diverse, and it is difficult to ensure that “organizational methods” are effective with all people. The times have changed, and this demands that the Party and government accommodate the times, channeling public opinion in ways that suit mainstream social demands, values and concepts and that people can welcome.
For example, the Internet has already become a channel by which the people express their own interests and demands, a platform for participation and discussion of state affairs. The presents a challenge to traditional modes of communication. In traditional communication the organs of the Party-state were the principal channel, and the flow was from top to bottom in a one-dimensional fashion, with the decisions at higher levels transmitted down layer after layer . . . But Internet communication means that any ordinary Party member or member of the public can communicate their own opinions and views at any time and in any place . . . Channels of communication for the people have been expanded to an unprecedented extent. The times demand forms of communication that are two-dimensional, combining top to bottom and bottom to top, a mechanism of mutual consultation. And the Internet provide the best means for this.
We can also see that the Internet demands much more in terms of the conduct and character of our leaders. Many factual instances of mass incidents are pushed by waves of public opinion online, and in many cases careless remarks from leaders precipitate a backlash of public opinion. The question of how to deal with online public opinion, and the complex question of how to deal with media is a comprehensive test of the human rights consciousness, democratic consciousness, rule of law consciousness and work ability of our leaders.
However, new media also present new opportunities for Party building.
These opportunities are manifested in diverse ways. First, [new media] can be tools for the propagation and channeling of the Party’s ideas and theories. Aside from the above-mentioned examples in Guangdong, I have been on a research tour to Tongzi County (桐梓县) in Guizhou province, where they have built an online study platform for Party cadres. All Party cadres, including businesspeople and migrant workers [who are Party members] can use this Party building platform to participate in all sorts of study sessions. Which is to say that while the Internet can lead to the expression of diverse values, it can also become a means to channel mainstream thought and ideology.

Chinese media reported this week that police are formally investigating three high-level Chinese football officials for corruption, including Xie Yalong (谢亚龙), the former vice-chairman of the Chinese Football Association. Mid-level football officials have been implicated in the corruption scandal as well, indicating that the government is serious about cleaning up systemic corruption in Chinese football.
It was sometime earlier this year, I believe, that a journalist asked me which I was more hopeful about — Chinese national football or China’s higher education system. I said I was more optimistic about the prospects for national football. And if I were asked the same question today, I would stick with my original answer.
Football may draw a lot of interest and attention, but it is still a matter of choice rather than of necessity. Sure, if watching football is your passion, you can tune in to international matches. If playing football is your passion, you can put together your own match. But most of the rest of us can go through an entire year without giving a moment’s thought to the world’s most popular sport.
Education, unlike football, is serious business. Every family and individual has to grapple with education. For many, our universities in China are a source of anger and frustration. Plenty of Chinese, having lost confidence in our institutions of higher learning, have voted with their pocketbooks, packing their kids off to overseas universities. The vast majority of people can’t opt out, however, and national college entrance examinations are still a critical rite of passage for most.
While higher education is a practical concern facing everyone, reforming our universities is a far more difficult problem than reforming Chinese football. Reforming Chinese football means going in aggressively and cutting out the blight, exactly what we are seeing happen right now. It’s quite a simple matter really. But not so with our university system. People have criticized corruption in our universities for years, but there has never been a concerted effort to reform them.
In fact, Chinese soccer and Chinese education suffer from the same basic disease. In a completely non-commercial environment, the conditions aren’t right for corruption to gain a foothold. Even if you wanted to extort bribes, no one would pay up. At the other end of the spectrum, a completely commercialized market environment is not so conducive to corruption, because in such a system resource allocation is not in the hands of regulators and supervisors. Industry players, in other words, can get all the resources they need from the market.
Our current system of commercialization under institutional control is a breeding ground for corruption. In this sort of commercial environment, gaining access to resources means jumping over administrative hurdles in order to gain all sorts of necessary approvals. Football and education are very similar in this respect. Even though universities rely on tuition money for survival, these revenues can only be utilized with state approval. Kickbacks for the funding of research, the pocketing of research funds, and even corruption in student recruitment — all of these are frightfully common in China.
Why should corruption in national football become a top priority while we turn a blind eye to corruption in our universities?
Football isn’t just the world’s number-one competitive sport. Under our national sports system it is a matter of China’s national pride as well. The unique role of national football means that it commands the attention of state leaders. Corruption in our universities, however, does not invite the same level of attention or resolve. It may be everywhere, but no one wants to face it head on.
The world of Chinese football and the world of Chinese higher education are not so different in their underlying rottenness. Behind their bright and fresh facades, our universities suffer from the same institutional decay. But so long as this corruption is kept out of the open — as corruption in national soccer was until recently — no one will have the courage to face it.
A version of this article originally appeared in Chinese at Southern Metropolis Daily.

During the first session of our “Reporting China” class, part of our journalism master’s program curriculum at the University of Hong Kong, the classroom was full of expectant faces. We had students from all sorts of backgrounds — some only recent college graduates, others experienced journalists returning for further studies. To start off the class, veteran journalist and CMP director Qian Gang asked for a show of hands: how many students planned to make journalism a career? Hands sprung up across the classroom like bright spring shoots.
In the discussion that followed, however, the misgivings of these students became clear as well. “Are you optimistic or pessimistic about the future of journalism in China?” one student asked. Another student, from mainland China, asked: “Should we remain in Hong Kong to work as journalists, or should we return to the mainland?”
These were really two separate but related questions. The first was about the broader environment and outlook for journalism in mainland China. The second was about their own professional choices and planning for the future.
A short time back, the International Press Institute solicited articles for a special volume on the future of journalism to mark the organization’s 60th anniversary. I interviewed a lot of young Chinese journalists to prepare for my own section dealing with China. When I asked for their views on the future of journalism in the country, these journalists were clearly conflicted. On the one hand, there was no denying that media development in China had in some respects been strong in China in recent years. On the other hand, a whole range of pressures on media, both old and new, cast a long shadow over the future of journalism. Journalists faced the usual pressures from state media controls, and they had to grapple at the same time with new and growing pressures from commercial forces. The upshot was that, despite limited gains of sorts, these journalists felt that freedom of speech was being sidelined.
Noting the many changes in the press environment in recent years, one young journalist remarked how it was now possible, for example, for media to criticize the government with some degree of freedom so long as criticism focused on government below a certain administrative level. And now, they said, Chinese media tended to crowd around major news stories as they broke, affording some strength in numbers. In the past, more outspoken newspapers like Southern Weekend might have acted on their own and taken on greater risk.
One of the most notable changes in recent years has been that disaster reporting is no longer a forbidden zone in China. Natural disasters, such as major floods, are no longer sensitive terrain.
One of the biggest stories in China this year, a string of suicides by workers at the contract manufacturer Foxconn, might have been handled in a sensational manner only a few years ago, the deeper implications glossed over. This year, though, the net impact of the Foxconn suicides was substantial. Mainstream media and the Internet drew widespread attention to underlying issues such as labor conditions, worker’s welfare and mental health. As a result, the government and Foxconn were forced to deal with the issue head on. On the heels of the Foxconn affair, there was a string of strike actions in China as workers demanded wage increases and better conditions. For media and society, these all marked significant progress.
After a toxic spill at a facility in Fujian operated by Zijin Mining Group, Hu Shuli’s New Century magazine and Guangzhou’s The Time Weekly reported aggressively on the incident, exposing close collusion between the mining company and the local government, which had many officials under direct employ by the company. In a follow-up report, China Youth Daily revealed that Zijin Mining Group had tried to pay off news reporters to cover up the toxic spill.
On the flip side of these advances, however, we see the erosion of progress in other areas. For example, we have seen blanket reporting of all sorts of news stories in China in recent years, but seldom do we find in-depth reporting into the causes of these news incidents,such as corruption or lack of institutional readiness. Disaster reports tend to linger on surface details, the deeper causes still a matter of sensitivity.
Journalists say they also have to contend much more with commercial pressures on news reporting. In the midst of fierce competition in the financial media segment, several leading financial publications have expanded their investigative coverage of Chinese listed companies. These companies have fought back with their own pressure campaigns, employing public relations companies (many of which can lobby their connections to suppress coverage), local government patronage, and pressure from the state media control apparatus to pay off and intimidate journalists and media.
The large number of cases this year of reporters being sought for arrest or attacked after writing critical reports on listed companies are good examples of this trend. In two recent cases, Fang Xuanchang (方玄昌), science editor at Caijing magazine, was attacked by hired thugs, and Qiu Ziming (仇子明) of the Economic Observer was sought with an arrest warrant.
The blocking of reports by the National Business Daily on the Bawang affair and media reporting of the Shengyuan milk powder case indicate just how closely economic and political power are working together to suppress news coverage. Media generally lack the strength to contend with pressure from the government and business oligarchy. And rent-seeking behavior by media themselves is also a major problem.
Recent visits by Premier Wen Jiabao and President Hu Jintao to Shenzhen have ignited discussion of political reform, and the political reform issue is absolutely critical to the future of journalism in China. If there is no meaningful change in the political sphere, if administrative power is not effectively reformed, and if the independence of the police, the judiciary and prosecutors cannot be credibly ensured, further breakthroughs for Chinese media will be difficult and the situation for Chinese journalists will not improve substantially.
In his opening lecture to students, Qian Gang played a recording of veteran journalist Liu Binyan (刘宾雁) made late in his life when he was seriously ill and in exile in the United States. “I, a man from China who must come finally to rest here, said what I must say and did what I must do,” said Liu Binyan. “My only wish is that our nation will cherish the brightest and best of her new generation, allowing them to say what they must say and do what they must do on the soil of their mother country.”
The extent to which China’s newest generation of journalists will be able to say what they must depends both on progress in the larger political environment of media in China and the continued efforts of journalists themselves. We will have to keep our eyes on both.