Orville Schell displays considerable expertise on all things
China. His is an authoritative voice on the Middle Kingdom, so we are naturally
inclined to take his views seriously. With Xi Jinping preparing to arrive in
the United States, we are drawn to consider Schell’s views.
Writing in the Wall Street Journal Schell argues that democracy will
be coming to China. On the basis of rather flimsy evidence he declares China to
have a long and rich democratic tradition.
In truth, Schell is blinded
by his own idealism, to the point where he believes that a liberal democracy, government of and by and for the people, decided by the ballot box and respecting individual rights, is
the only just form of government. It’s a variant on Francis Fukuyama’s famous
thesis that the Hegelian apotheosis is a liberal democratic capitalism. By Schell's thesis, China has gotten part of the way there, lacking only democracy.
One would be remiss if one did not note that if America
wants to export democratic idealism it would do best to set a good example. For
now, any foreign leader looking on the madness consuming America’s idealists would happily
avoid democracy.
And, we ought to mention that America was established as a
Republic, not a democracy. The United States Senate is not a democratic institution.
Everyone knows that, in the West, democracy and republican government hark
back to ancient Greece and Rome. They did not arise in the twentieth century.
Democratic practices have been developing in the west for centuries now. They
include the Magna Carta, the British Common Law, parliamentary democracy and
the Protestant Reformation.
And everyone knows, Schell first among us, that no such
tradition exists in China. Chinese thought and political life has never known
liberal democracy. The West, on the contrary, has known democracy from its cultural
inception.
This does not deter Schell who trots out Sun Yat-sen, a
twentieth century figure who tried to advance the cause of Chinese democracy
after the end of the Qing dynasty.
He explains:
Democratic
ideals have deep roots in modern Chinese history and have surfaced again and
again over the past century. This legacy should serve to remind us that not all
Chinese, even in the worst of times, have been resigned to a politics of one-party
rule.
The
idea that China would develop into a constitutional republic was first and most
forcefully proposed at the beginning of the previous century by Sun Yat-sen,
the so-called father of modern China.
How did that work out? Glad you asked. Schell explains:
His
presidency lasted just 41 days as the country slid into the control of regional
warlords. But Sun persisted, going on to establish the Nationalist Party, whose
role in promoting democratic ideals in China proved to be long and tortuous.
The warlord period counted among the worst and most brutal
in Chinese history. If this was the outcome of the first experiment in Chinese
democracy, one understands why people would hesitate to try it again.
Schell believed that the dream had stayed alive, ultimately
to be realized in present-day, democratic Taiwan.
But
Taiwan has been a vindication of the Nationalists’ hopes. A process of
liberalization began there in earnest in the mid-1980s with the lifting of
martial law and a new tolerance for protests and opposition parties. Today, in
the face of a newly autocratic and aggressive China, Taiwan remains a sturdy
democracy.
Perhaps Taiwan is going to be a laboratory for Chinese
democracy. Yet, the nation is extremely vulnerable, and
sorely in need of allies to fight off a China that wants to accession it.
Practicing democracy might be part of a Taiwanese self-defense program-- not a
realization of Sun Yat-sen’s dream.
Schell also trots the spasm of
pro-democracy activism that manifested itself in China in 1989. Students
occupied Tiananmen Square for weeks and their supporters practically brought
the nation to a halt.
Naively and uncritically, Schell suggests that it
was the realization of a democratic ideal, crushed by ruthless autocrats. It makes for a good story, even if it is not quite true.
Allow Schell to describe it:
This
crescendo of free speech and democratic protest culminated, of course, in the
massive demonstrations that paralyzed Beijing for seven weeks in the spring of
1989. I was there and watched in amazement as millions of Chinese from every
walk of life marched into Tiananmen Square, under the gaze of a giant statue of
the Goddess of Democracy, waving banners proclaiming such things as “I’d Rather
Die Than Go Without Democracy.” How, everyone wondered, would Deng and the
party ever regain control?
The
answer, tragically, was bloody suppression. Deng had thought he could manage
the wild current of democratic excitement that his reforms had catalyzed, but
surrendering to a more open political system was, finally, out of the question
for him and other hard-liners. Even now, a quarter-century later, the party
does not permit public discussion of the brutal crackdown that ended China’s
epic moment of democratic aspiration. Liberalizing impulses were quickly
diverted into politically safer channels, as Deng and his heirs focused on
opening markets and launching a period of astounding economic growth.
Of course, Deng Xiaoping had encouraged free expression. In
his effort to steer China toward free enterprise and prosperity he had allowed
a level of freedom of speech.
But, was it really about Western liberal democracy? To those of us in the West it
looked like Woodstock. To Deng and his colleagues, all of whom had lived
through and been victimized by Mao’s Cultural Revolution, it looked like the
return of the Red Guards. When an adolescent in pajamas, by name of Wu'er Kaixi went on national television screens to berate and humiliate the Chinese
premier, Li Peng, the old guard was reminded of the Red Guards and their
practice of systematically humiliating and murdering government officials.
True enough, as Schell says, the Tiananmen Square
demonstrations showed that the government had lost control. And, surely, it
needed to regain control. It did so by suppressing the student rebellion
violently. None of us liked it, but to see it as the prelude to a democratic
rebellion was short-sighted.
Deng was trying to save his economic program. He was trying
to save free enterprise and to make China great. In that he succeeded, even if
he did so in ways that we deplore. And yet, if you were faced with the choice
of handing the nation over to the Red Guards and suppressing them before they
could get started, what would you do? It's easier to make these decisions from a safe distance.
Anyway, the current leader of China sounds more like a
pragmatist than an ideologue. Apparently, the lesson he draw from Tiananmen was
that democracy was alien to Chinese culture and tradition. Despite what Schell
thinks China does not have a tradition of liberal democracy or human rights.
Schell notes that Xi has been more pragmatic than
idealistic:
As he
told European dignitaries in Belgium in 2014, “Constitutional monarchy,
imperial restoration, parliamentarianism, a multiparty system and a
presidential system—we considered them, tried them, but none worked.” For China
to “copy a political system or development model from other countries,” he
said, “would not fit us, and it might even lead to catastrophic consequences.”
Schell still hopes for a miracle, but he sees the writing on
the wall:
In
contrast to previous eras of reaction, recently won social and cultural
freedoms remain intact for ordinary Chinese, but a far-reaching turn to
democracy has become increasingly hard to imagine.
He adds, somewhat churlishly, that the Chinese have been bought off by prosperity:
Many
ordinary Chinese are, in fact, beguiled by the “China dream” that he has
outlined and the promise of a wealthier, more dynamic and more powerful
country, and he has allowed them to continue enjoying a degree of personal (if
not political) discretion that their parents could hardly have imagined.
Mao had brought starvation and famine. The new leaders have brought prosperity and respect. What would you choose?
"The warlord period counted among the worst and most brutal in Chinese history." So, less that the Red Guards and"The Great Leap Forward", then.
ReplyDeleteStrangely... but that's what I read.
ReplyDeleteStuart: Mao had brought starvation and famine. The new leaders have brought prosperity and respect. What would you choose?
ReplyDeleteThe best way to avoid a choice is to paint it as a nonchoice. The real problem isn't China 2017 but China 2027 or 2037, although I think every country in the world has the same problem. Who can say who will prosper when the engine of globalization permanently stalls?
Anyway, if you live in a country that allows a few to become fabulously wealthy, they can be grateful, yet not loyal. If they are fatalistic about the future of their own country, a primary goal becomes trying to figure out how to get as much money out before it crashes under its own hubris.
Can anyone claim Chinese billionaires are showing respect for their country's leaders if they are preparing their escape route?
https://www.bloomberg.com/news/features/2015-11-02/china-s-money-exodus
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The ranks of China’s wealthy continue to surge. As their economy shows signs of weakness at home, they’re sending money overseas at unprecedented levels to seek safer investments — often in violation of currency controls meant to keep money inside China.
This flood of cash is being felt around the world, driving up real estate prices in Sydney, New York, Hong Kong and Vancouver. The Chinese spent almost $30 billion on U.S. homes in the year ending last March, making them the biggest foreign buyers of real estate. Their average purchase price: about $832,000. Same trend in Sydney, where Chinese investors snap up a quarter of new homes and are forecast to double their spending by the end of the decade. In Vancouver, the Chinese have helped real estate prices double in the past 10 years. In Hong Kong, housing prices are up 60 percent since 2010.
...
In total, UBS Group estimated that $324 billion moved out last year [2014]. So how do these volumes of cash get out when Chinese are limited by rules that allow them to convert only $50,000 per person a year?
The methods include China’s underground banks, transfers using Hong Kong money changers, carrying cash over borders and pooling the quotas of family and friends — a practice known as “smurfing.” The transfers exist in a gray area of cross-border legality: What’s perfectly legitimate in another country can contravene the law in China.
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Overall it does seem like vast wealth is more trouble than its worth, like a dragon sitting on his hoards, not knowing who is going to try to take it next.