A constant feature of the extraordinary social flux of contemporary China is the occurrence of serious clashes between the public and the police. A few examples from May-July 2008 indicate the extent and variety of this phenomenon:

* on 26 May, police in Chengdu arrested people who witnessed them attempting to steal tents meant for earthquake-relief work; this sparked a confrontation between members of the public and the police

* on 28 June, over 10,000 people attacked government and party buildings and set fire to a police station in Weng'an county, Guizhou province; this action was related to a belief that a local high-school girl had been raped and killed by people with links to the government

* on 5 July, family members of a drowned driver in Fugu county, Shaanxi province attempted to seize the body of the deceased from police; this sparked a riot in which three police cars were smashed and seven people arrested

* on 9 July, several police officers in Yuhuan county, Zhejiang province were injured when over 1,000 migrant workers attacked their building; this was related to problems migrant workers had had in obtaining temporary residence permits in the county

* on 17 July, dozens of people were injured when members of the public clashed with the police in Boluo, Guangdong province; citizens had suspected the police of beating a motorcyclist to death

* on 19 July, rubber-plantation workers in Menglian county, Yunnan province held a protest; police opened fire on the demonstrators, killing two and injuring one.

Li Datong is a Chinese journalist and a former editor of BingdianFreezing Point), a weekly supplement of the China Youth Daily newspaper.

Among Li Datong's recent articles in openDemocracy:

"Xiamen: the triumph of public will" (16 January 2008),

"China's soft-power failure" (16 May 2008),

"China and the earthquake" (2 June 2008),

"China: after the quake, the debate" (16 June 2008),

"China's leaders, the media, and the internet" (4 July 2008),

"China's digital nationalism: Kung Fu Panda under fire" (16 July 2008).

When a conflict between the public and police occurs, the Beijing authorities routinely classify the event under the broad heading of "mass incidents". Media workers in China know that the term "mass incident" in fact refers to any incident which has to be quelled using the police. How many such incidents take place in China each year? The estimate for 2007, collated by weighing a number of sources, is 80,000. But this number is hard to verify. The authorities strictly prohibit reporting on where incidents take place, their causes, the extent of casualties and the outcome of the conflicts.

Even if media outlets become aware that such an event is taking place, most will not send anyone to investigate it because they know that their reports will not be publishable. In this light the fact that so many reports on "mass incidents" have seen the light of day in the first seven months of 2008 is a real sign of progress. Of all the incidents that have been reported, the one that has been covered in most detail, and which has been most discussed online, is one of those listed above: the Weng'an incident of 28 June 2008.

A change in the climate

The riot that took place on 28 June in Weng'an county was even more serious than the protests in Lhasa in mid-March 2008. In Weng'an, over 10,000 people directly attacked the party committee and government building, and the local police station. Images of the chaos spread quickly across the internet. The official media - perhaps as the result of some modification of the censorship system - broke with the tradition of covering up such events. At the same time, the news stories that did appear were full of familiar, hackneyed phrases (such as "a minority of people incited the masses, who were ignorant of the true situation" and "attacked the party and government.") The establishment media stuck to this line even though China's netizens all knew that such reporting was inaccurate and thousands posted comments questioning the official story.

After three or four days, however, there was a change in the climate. The Guizhou provincial party secretary Shi Zongyuan made a personal inspection tour of Weng'an and offered his views on the fundamental reasons for the unrest. His comments suggested that these went far beyond the ostensible trigger of the assault on the high-school student: Shi Zongyuan instead cited the way that the process of developing the mining industry in the area, accommodating migrants and relocating residents after their homes had been demolished had repeatedly infringed people's rights.

In dealing with the disputes that these changes had provoked, local officials had acted brutishly, and even made indiscriminate use of police power. The county government's failure to implement strong and fair policies, the party secretary implied, had brought public resentment to boiling-point."Local authorities have failed to pay sufficient attention to the concerns of the public", Shi Zongyuan said. "They have failed to crack down on dark forces and serious criminality. The crime rate is high, arrest rates are low, and this has created an unsafe environment."

Among openDemocracy's articles on China in 2008:

Kerry Brown, "Beijing's political tightrope-walk" (12 March 2008),

Jeffrey N Wasserstrom, "The perils of forced modernity: China-Tibet, America-Iraq" (27 March 2008),

Robert Barnett, "Tibet: questions of revolt" (4 April 2008),

Wenran Jiang, "Tibetan unrest, Chinese lens" (7 April 2008),

Ivy Wang, "China's netizens and Tibet: a Guangzhou report" (8 April 2008),

Wang Lixiong, "China and Tibet: the true path" (15 April 2008),

James A Millward, "China's story: putting the PR into the PRC" (18 April 2008),

Jeffrey N Wasserstrom, "China's political colours: from monochrome to palette" (14 May 2008),

Susan Brownell, "The Olympics' ‘civilising' legacy: St Louis to Beijing" (23 May 2008),

Emily Lau, "Tiananmen, 1989-2008" (4 June 2008),

Jeffrey N Wasserstrom, "Tiananamen's shifting legacy" (26 June 2008),

Kerry Brown, "China on Olympic eve: a globalisation of sentiment" (11 July 2008).

Shi Zongyuan apologised three times to the people of Weng'an for the situation in their county. Even more surprising, the primary target of official sanction was not the rioting townspeople but the local officials. The county head, county party secretary, chief of police and commissar were all dismissed from their posts. In the end, even the more senior prefectural party secretary was sacked over the incident.

The significance of Weng'an is that this is the first time that local officials have been the first to come under scrutiny following a "mass incident" (see Simon Elegant, "China Protests: A New Approach?", Time, 4 July 2008). After the initial riot, Hu Jintao himself - general secretary of the Chinese Communist Party and state president - issued a memo on how the incident should be handled. This evidence suggests that the highest authorities were dissatisfied with the initial response to events in Weng'an at local level, and demanded an investigation into their root causes. The contrast between the immediate official reaction and what was to follow within a few days shows how the party's style of governance is evolving.

A power beyond law

China's breakneck economic development since the mid-1980s has to a certain extent been founded on the premise that the state's monopoly on violence will protect the government and official institutions even as unfair burdens are imposed on the public. For two decades and more, Deng Xiaoping's mantra of "stability above all else" has been the highest article of faith at all levels of government. Those who protest or petition to the authorities - no matter the cause - can according in principle be accused of "breaching stability", and subject to legal repression.

The most common examples of this are the forced relocation of urban residents whose homes are to be demolished, and the appropriation of farmers' land in the countryside. The lack of any balancing power or democratic accountability has led to officials using ever cruder methods to deal with disputes. At the scene of almost all conflicts, the police tend to be out in force - as an instrument of state rather than of social protection. The use of state agencies as a tool in official hands is reflected in the way that the party secretary of Xifeng county, Liaoning province sent police to Beijing to arrest a journalist at a large newspaper who had written an article that the secretary found offensive (see Edward Cody, "Move to Arrest Journalist Sparks Backlash in China", Washington Post, 9 January 2008) . This is but one classic example of the abuse of police power with no regard for law or principle.

It is obvious that this form of governance cannot persist. Weng'an helps to show why, in three ways.

First, citizens have more access to information and freedom in circulating it than ever before. The fact that so many members of the public knew that the authorities' version of events in Weng'an was untrue or deficient, and were able to post their own stories and experiences, means that the total monopoly of information that was a bulwark of state power no longer holds (see Geoffrey A Fowler & Juliet Ye, "Chinese Bloggers Score a Victory Against the Government", Wall Street Journal, 5 July 2008).

Second, the Weng'an riot is revealing in that none of the rioters were themselves affected by the incident which sparked their protest. After all, the death of a girl in suspicious circumstances directly affects at most a few families. At a deeper level, however, an environment where public anger and frustration have been bottled up for a long time can lead to any available incident becoming the occasion for an eruption of mass fury. The commentator Xu Zhiyong, who said that "Weng'an could be any county in China", was right.

Third, local governments often act with wanton disregard for the law and public opinion. In the past the central government has chosen to tolerate this situation in order to maintain a united front. This has meant that the actions of some local officials have come to reflect on the government as a whole. The inevitable result - evident in Weng'an in the disparity between initial and eventual official reactions - is a crisis of governance.

A new rulebook

The central government will do its best to address the first two points, however difficult this may prove. It also appears to have understood and begun to take action to meet the third - by, in effect, refusing to be held to ransom by local officials. Beijing is conscious that if local officials are not held to account, it will be the object of the public's accusations: it needs to act to defend itself.

Thus, the logic of the central government's demand for an investigation of "the root causes of events" in Weng'an is an examination of the culpability of officials at all levels. Indeed, three government departments have (independently of the Weng'an events) jointly released a set of regulations on punishments for the violation of rules on dealing with petitioning. A close reading of these makes it plain that they aim to lay responsibility for any unrest with local officials. If a "mass incident" develops, the local officials responsible will be punished. A single line speaks volumes: "Those who make indiscriminate use of police power during mass incidents will be stripped of party membership and dismissed from their posts."

The new rules appear already to be having some effect. The media has reported on some meetings between local officials and petitioners. Such gatherings are often extremely crowded, an indication of how deep and complex the task of solving the problems petitioners raise will be. True, neither this new approach nor the specific response to the Weng'an riot can solve all the problems the party is facing. However, the fact that officials as well as the public are now being held responsible for "mass incidents" is at least a step in the right direction of solving China's crisis of governance. 

Hu Jintao, general-secretary of the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) and thus the country's most powerful leader, has once again been lauded by the official media for a performance which "received worldwide attention".

The Chinese government planned the year of the Olympic games in Beijing on 8-24 August 2008 as a demonstration of the country's pride and confidence on the global stage. So far, it has not turned out that way. The Tibet protests in mid-March, and the disruption of the Olympic-torch relay that followed, have created confusion in government circles. Now, the earthquake in Sichuan on 12 May has presented the authorities with another severe challenge of management and public relations. A triumphal year is becoming ever more tense.

Li Datong is a Chinese journalist and a former editor of Bingdian (Freezing Point), a weekly supplement of the China Youth Daily newspaper

Among Li Datong's recent articles in openDemocracy:

"Beijing's Olympics, China's politics" (22 August 2007)

"China's media change: talking with Angela Merkel" (6 September 2007)

"Shanghai: new history, old politics" (19 September 2007)

"China's leadership: the next generation" (3 October 2007)

"China's communist princelings" (17 October 2007)

"China's age of expression" (14 November 2007)

"China's modernisation: a unique path?" (28 November 2007)

"Taipei and Beijing: attitudes to historical truth" (12 December 2007)

"Xiamen: the triumph of public will" (16 January 2008)

The official reaction to this series of events is part of a pattern that reveals much about how China is ruled and how its leaders think. In this sense, their response is not random but a case-study in the nature of modern governance in China.

The torch of merit

The Olympic-torch relay suffered unprecedented disruption in Britain, France and other countries, and has at times descended into chaos. In response, the Chinese government, through the media, launched an unprecedented counterattack. Now that the torch is back on Chinese soil, the media war has abated.

The Chinese government's fury is easily understood - the protests were a total humiliation for China. This is the biggest blow to the country's image for twenty years. The only comparable setback came after the Tiananmen crackdown in 1989. Then, China's reputation suffered almost irreversible damage in the face of international condemnation and sanctions from the United States and Europe.

But at least the government was prepared for the consequences of its post-Tiananmen repression. Chinese leaders were ready to make the sacrifice necessary in order to hold onto power. Deng Xiaoping knew that sanctions against such a large country as China could not go on indefinitely, and that China could ride out the storm. Deng also understood the importance of repairing China's image, and as early as 1990 put forward the plan for China to apply to host the Olympics.

The Chinese government never expected such embarrassment over the torch relay. Over twenty years, the influence of Tiananmen has been diluted, and to international amazement, China's rapid economic development has made it one of the world's largest economies. Every major country has been affected by China's development. After its unsuccessful bid to host the 2000 Olympics, China was favourite to be awarded the 2008 games, and emerged victorious. As a country of over a billion people, a member of the United Nations Security Council and of the World Trade Organisation, China had no less right to be awarded the games than had the Korean military regime in 1988.

Also, China's size means that it will be unlikely to slip into debt due to the Olympics, unlike Greece. In terms of hard facts and figures, China was definitely one of the best-qualified countries to host the games. The Chinese government was full of confidence, and in principle the torch relay was an idea that would be welcomed by the rest of the world. But things did not go according to plan.

The claim of right

What the Chinese government didn't realise was that "soft power", rather than hard power, has become key. Soft power stems from a country's human-rights situation. It depends on the progress a country has made in maintaining universal values, and trust in the country from the international community. However much the claim is made that the Olympics are and must be separate from politics, there is at least a political minimum that countries have to achieve to qualify as hosts. It would be hard, for example, to imagine the games being awarded to South Africa under apartheid.

To be fair, China's human-rights situation has improved since 1989. The situation now is the best it has been since 1949, and this is why the Chinese government feels that is has been treated so unjustly. "Why does no one talk about our achievements?" the government wonders. The answer lies in the rule of law and institutions. The increasing freedom and improving human rights of the Chinese people lack any substantial legal or systemic foundation. The government's overarching concern is still to keep the ruling party in power. Unrestrained government power can be relaxed and contracted at will.

Also in openDemocracy on China's Olympics and Tibetan tensions:

Jeffrey N Wasserstrom, "One, two or many Chinas?" (15 February 2008)

Kerry Brown, "Beijing's political tightrope-walk" (12 March 2008)

Gabriel Lafitte, "Tibet: revolt with memories" (18 March 2008)

Jeffrey N Wasserstrom, "The perils of forced modernity: China-Tibet, America-Iraq" (27 March 2008)

Donald S Lopez, "How to think about Tibet" (28 March 2008)

George Fitzherbert, "Tibet's history, China's power" (28 March 2008)

Dibyesh Anand, "Tibet, China, and the west: empires of the mind" (1 April 2008)

Robert Barnett, "Tibet: questions of revolt" (4 April 2008)

Kerry Brown, "Taiwan and China: an electoral prelude" (4 April 2008)

Wenran Jiang, "Tibetan unrest, Chinese lens" (7 April 2008)

Ivy Wang, "China's netizens and Tibet: a Guangzhou report" (8 April 2008)

Ramin Jahanbegloo, "Olympics of shame" (9 April 2008) That is to say, the progress China has made is not necessarily a one-way street. When things are good, progress can be allowed, but at the first sign of trouble the one-party totalitarian system automatically reverts to type. It is at these times that the government's obtuseness and crudeness shocks the world. For example, as the preparation for the Olympics began in earnest, at a time when the whole world was looking at China's human-rights record, the government locked up Hu Jia - a fragile young man who has done nothing but publish some articles on the internet - on charges of "subverting the state".

Questioned on this by foreign media, the normally eloquent Chinese premier Wen Jiabao could only respond that China "is a country with the rule of law". In light of the fact that freedom of speech is protected by the Chinese constitution, this answer seems both weak and ridiculous. Why the government acts so idiotically is beyond comprehension.

The call of Tibet

The recent Tibetan troubles could also have been handled differently. If a few people want to come out of the temples and protest, what is the problem? If the route and time are arranged in accordance with the law, and the people conduct their march, shout their slogans and then go home, why should this cause trouble? The more people are repressed, the more they want to rebel, and the consequence is chaos.

A country ruled by law should guarantee its citizens' right to protest. In those circumstances, if citizens break the law, they should be stopped without hesitation. But China has things the wrong way around. The lawful right to protest of a number of monks was crudely taken away, and then when trouble started there was no timely intervention due to fears over international opinion. This allowed the riots to get out of control and resulted in loss of life and damage to property.

This theme is exemplified in other respects. There was a lack of information and preparation on the Tibet issue before the violence broke out, and then after the events the government went into its conditioned response of shutting out foreign journalists, before bringing them back in on organised tours. The government first blamed anything and everything on the Dalai Lama, and then - after coming under international pressure - announced that it would enter into talks with him. All of this demonstrates both the government's passivity and the stupidity ingrained in the totalitarian system.

Whereas some Chinese have been stirred to nationalist emotions by the problems with the torch relay, the Chinese government is in shock. It needs time to digest the facts. It needs to ask itself: in the eyes of the world, why are a few people shouting "free Tibet" more persuasive than the hundreds of billions of yuan that the government has invested in Tibet? Why does the western public put more trust in information from the media than from the Chinese government? Why is an increasingly powerful China seen as a threat rather than a force for peace?

The bond of law

The tragedy in Sichuan has made headlines across the world. An intense effort of search and rescue is underway in very difficult terrain. The Chinese government is acutely aware of the need to perform this task efficiently. But now that it is more exposed than ever to the scrutiny of its own people as well as foreign media, the mechanisms of control and persuasion it is used to operating by are newly vulnerable. The problem of trust is just below - and occasionally emerges above - the surface. The tensions between hard and soft power are on display.

So when will the Chinese government finally wise up? The answer is simple - when it does things by the law. When it unconditionally guarantees the rights of citizens set down in the constitution, and cracks down on those who break the law. The Chinese government needs to understand that in response to the western media, an independent and free Chinese press would be much more credible than a government spokesperson. The truth lies not in one voice, but slowly becomes apparent amidst a diverse range of voices. An understanding of this underlies the effective deployment of soft power.

Whatever happens, the Beijing Olympics will provide many lessons for the Chinese leadership. If they still have the ability to learn, China's leaders will be able to turn this would-be triumphal year's early humiliation into a force for change.

In 1995, a group of historians from the People's Republic of China (PRC) visited Taiwan to take part in a conference marking the fiftieth anniversary of victory in the war against Japan. As they entered the Academia Sinica, a young Taiwanese scholar jokingly called out: "The communist bandits are here!" Although the words were only spoken in jest, academics from both sides of the Straits found them extremely interesting and made them a subject of discussion.

Li Datong is a Chinese journalist and a former editor of Bingdian (Freezing Point), a weekly supplement of the China Youth Daily newspaper

Among Li Datong's recent articles in openDemocracy:

"The root of slave labour in China" (26 June 2007)

"Beijing baozi and public trust" (25 July 2007)

"The next land revolution?" (8 August 2007)

"Beijing's Olympics, China's politics" (22 August 2007)

"China's media change: talking with Angela Merkel" (6 September 2007)

"Shanghai: new history, old politics" (19 September 2007)

"China's leadership: the next generation" (3 October 2007)

"China's communist princelings" (17 October 2007)

"China's Youth League faction: incubus of power?" (31 October 2007)

"China's age of expression" (14 November 2007)

"China's modernisation: a unique path?" (28 November 2007)

At its conclusion, the mainland scholar Yang Tianshi said: "In the past, both the Communist Party and the Kuomintang referred to each other as 'bandits'. History has shown they were both wrong." For his part, the Taiwanese academician Chang Yu-fa argued that the words reflected what he called the "bandit view" of history, and that this view had coloured the work of scholars from both sides for decades. Both mainland and Taiwanese scholars agreed that this prejudice had to be broken down, and modern Chinese history rewritten.

In spring 2006, an opportunity for just such a rewriting was provided by the release of Chiang Kai-shek's diaries.

The history man

Chiang Kai-shek is the most important historical leader of the Kuomintang, barring only Sun Yat-sen. His ideas, his policies and his personality shaped the fate of China for half a century. Luckily for future historians, Chiang kept a diary every day for fifty-five years, never allowing affairs of state or war to divert him from his task. He always had a strong feel for history, and knew that an accurate personal record would be of immense historical value. His awareness of the secrets they held led Chiang to stipulate that the contents of his diary were only to be released after his death.

The diaries that Chiang kept up to 1945 have now been released. The mainland and Taiwanese historians who were scrambling to be first to read the diaries have come to surprisingly similar conclusions on their worth. Mainland scholars have said that "modern Chinese history has to be revised", while their Taiwanese counterparts have stated that "Kuomintang history has to be rewritten."

This response shows that the diaries are highly honest and truthful, and Chiang's records will help to solve many historical mysteries. As his more recent diaries continue to be released, more historical truth will emerge. What's more, the diaries kept for forty-three years by Chiang's son and heir, Chiang Ching-kuo, are due to be released soon. They too are certain to be revelatory.

It is impressive that, in 2004, before the release of the diaries, the Kuomintang came to an agreement with the Hoover Institution in the United States, whereby that body would arrange and preserve microfiches of the Kuomintang records from the past hundred years, and gradually release them to the world. This proves that the Kuomintang has completed the transition from secret society, to dictatorial political party, to modern democratic party. The publication of party records means that the Kuomintang leaders have finally relieved themselves of a heavy historical burden, and no longer need fear the past.

The amnesiac party

In comparison with the Kuomintang leadership, senior Communist Party figures continue to maintain an air of mystery. There has never been any hint that Mao Zedong ever kept a diary. Moreover, he was always very wary of those around him writing their own records. Yang Shangkun once made secret attempts to record meetings with Mao, in order that he would not forget any of the Chairman's important points. When Mao found out, he was furious, and had all the equipment and recordings destroyed. Yang's attempts at "bugging" the meetings later got him into serious trouble.

Also on China's politics in openDemocracy:

Andreas Lorenz, "China's environmental suicide: a government minister speaks" (6 April 2005)

Lung Ying-tai, "A question of civility: an open letter to Hu Jintao" (15 February 2006)

David Wall, "The plan and the party" (29 March 2006)

Christopher R Hughes, "Chinese nationalism in the global era" (18 April 2006)

Kerry Brown, "China's top fifty: the China power list" (2 April 2007)

Kerry Brown, "China's party congress: getting serious" (5 October 2007)

No evidence has ever emerged that any of Mao's contemporaries at the top of the party, such as Liu Shaoqi or Zhou Enlai, kept a diary. After Zhou died, a report emerged that on the most recent page of his desk calendar were written the words "Afternoon: meet Chairman." Checks revealed that he indeed had a one-on-one private meeting with Mao on that afternoon, and the two had talked for two or three hours. It was the last meeting they ever had, and no one knows what they discussed. Communist Party history is full of such tantalising morsels that fuel speculation about what really happened.

Why didn't the Communist Party leaders keep diaries? Is it because they did not realise the historical value of such documents? Of course not. My own guess is that with all the cruel power struggles that went on within the party, any honest diary would contain too many unpalatable truths, and reflect badly on its author. Who would want to leave behind such a negative historical image? None of the top party figures, whether Mao, Liu, or Zhou, or the more recent Deng Xiao-ping, Hu Yaobang and Zhao Ziyang have even written a memoir.

There are still many taboo areas in research into party history. Even specialist researchers find it hard to get hold of primary source material, and secondary sources, such as essays, books, films and documentaries, have to receive approval from the Party Literature Research Centre before publication. A professor from the Central Party School once reeled off a whole list of obscure areas of party history. They included:

* the party founder Chen Duxiu

* the elimination of counter-revolutionaries in communist-controlled areas

* the long march

* the Yan'an rectification campaign

* the Korean war

* Gao Gang and Rao Shushi's anti-party group

* the anti-rightist movement

* the great leap forward and people's communes

* the Lushan conference

* the reasons for the cultural revolution

* Lin Biao's attempted escape from China

* the gang of four.

All of these issues and events are shrouded in mystery, to such an extent that even senior party leaders are not really sure of the details.

History's balance-sheet

The former chairman of the Kuomintang and its presidential candidate in the 2008 elections, Ma Ying-jeou, once publicly apologised for the crimes committed by his party during the days of totalitarian rule in Taiwan. The Taiwanese authorities have carried out substantive rehabilitation and compensation of dissidents, including Communist Party members who were illegally persecuted by the regime. In doing so, they have unburdened themselves. The new generation of Communist Party leaders need to understand true party history in order to avoid repeating the mistakes of the past.

Unfortunately, all we see is the mistakes of previous leaders being covered up. It is forbidden to discuss the mistakes made by the party; even the cultural revolution, which has been universally and comprehensively repudiated, cannot be mentioned. The result is that history has become a millstone around the neck of the party, and will one day drag it to its knees. The Kuomintang may have lost the mainland to the Communists, but in facing up to their party's past, its leaders have scored an impressive victory.

The political report of the seventeenth national congress of the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) contains a new concept for China - it states that the people's "right to expression" must be protected. True, this concept is not really anything new (it appears in all United Nations declarations of human rights, for example, as well as in Article 35 of China's own constitution) but for it to appear in a Communist Party document shows how quickly the people who write the drafts are learning. They are managing to make party leaders' speeches sound up-to-date.

Li Datong is a Chinese journalist and a former editor of Bingdian (Freezing Point), a weekly supplement of the China Youth Daily newspaperAmong Li Datong's recent articles in openDemocracy:

"The root of slave labour in China" (26 June 2007)

"Beijing baozi and public trust" (25 July 2007)

"The next land revolution?" (8 August 2007)

"Beijing's Olympics, China's politics" (22 August 2007)

"China's media change: talking with Angela Merkel" (6 September 2007)

"Shanghai: new history, old politics" (19 September 2007)

"China's leadership: the next generation" (3 October 2007)

"China's communist princelings" (17 October 2007)

"China's Youth League faction: incubus of power?" (31 October 2007)

At the same time, the unprecedented controls on the news media (particularly online) imposed before and after the Beijing congress of 15-19 October 2007 make clear that these words are purely for show. What is freedom of expression, after all? It is not simply the freedom to say what you like in the comfort of your own home; it is the right to publish and broadcast your opinions publicly. Is this right of Chinese citizens protected? Of course not. At the party congress, the top party personnel may have changed, but the officials who monopolise ideology and propaganda are still the same. This shows that the policy of attempting to mould and control public opinion is a policy advocated by CCP general-secretary Hu Jintao himself. Chinese citizens can no longer afford any illusions about this.

The wager on speech

More broadly, however, there are signs that understanding of the true meaning of freedom of expression is spreading. After the seventeenth congress ended - and almost, it seems, as a response to it - an open letter to Hu Jintao and premier Wen Jiabao started to circulate on the internet. The letter, written by Wang Zhaojun and released on 26 October, is startling both in the frankness with which it tackles sensitive subjects and in its sharpness of tone. The author, in short, is truly exercising his right to freedom of expression. Moreover, his profile guarantees that the letter will be taken seriously in liberal intellectual circles: for Wang Zhaojun is a successful businessman who serves on the standing committee of the people's political consultative conference (PPCC) of Anhui province (a body where other political parties and social groups are notionally represented).

Until now, the only people with any right to expression were officials, academics, writers, or other well-known public figures. The billion or so members of the public were the silent majority. Private businessmen were definitely part of this majority. They knew that careless talk caused trouble, and restrained themselves accordingly: quietly earning their money, and sometimes quietly suffering at the hands of corrupt or law-breaking officials.

Those who made particular contributions to the local economy were given places on people's congresses or people's political consultative conferences - and thus made showpieces for the "united front" between the Communist Party and business people. These political titles were an asset for business purposes, too valuable carelessly to discard. Those who were lucky enough to gain such titles knew that they were in even less of a position to make controversial comments: the officials who gave them the titles could just as easily take them away again. By all reasonable estimates, Wang Zhaojun would appear to be just such a businessman - someone who should go along with the system and not rock the boat.

But the letter (whose Chinese-language version is here) is evidence that he is tougher than this. His document starkly itemises the real and big issues that China is facing today: the stock market, commodity prices, real estate, social injustice, an inadequate government, political reform, privatisation of land, a reassessment of the 1989 democracy movement, press freedom, the ban on other political parties, the oppression of the Falun Gong movement, the separation of the military from the party, and more. All these are things that Chinese people talk about when they get together, but which are never mentioned in the national people's congress, or at party congresses.

It is obvious that Wang has to spend most of his time and effort running his business: he is not a professional researcher of government affairs, and he doesn't have the same access to information as people in academia. But he has managed to set out, in a straightforward style, all of the main problems that China currently faces. Wang's letter illustrates how any Chinese person in full command of his or her senses can instinctively see what problems exist, and what are the causes. In contrast, when talking about contemporary "social contradictions" the seventeenth party congress basically repeated the same hackneyed phrases that have been in use since the eighth party congress in 1956.

Wang certainly knows that he will pay a price for daring to say publicly what everyone is thinking privately - but he still did it. Moreover, he chose to act at the close of the seventeenth party congress, at a time when the internet is being more closely monitored than ever. This must have taken enormous courage. Such courage often encourages others to display the same quality in response: not long after the letter was published, another Anhui businessman called Zheng Cunzhu released his own public appeal for "immediate direct elections at the county and city level of government".

The voices of prophecy

Wang's action is inspiring for another reason: it shows that the Chinese people's political consultative conference (CPPCC) can be a body capable of more than hollow political gestures. The CPPCC was established by the Communist Party as a holding area for China's "democratic parties". When it was set up, it did have a certain basis in "political consultation", as many members of the democratic parties held senior government positions. After the anti-rightist movement of 1957, however, these people were persecuted: either branded as "rightists" and removed from their positions, or terrified into silence. The structure remained in place, but the essence of consultation was gone. The CPPCC became an institution which could accommodate the heads of the democratic parties and where senior officials could be eased towards graceful retirement; in effect, a straw doll without any political significance whatsoever.

Now, Wang's initiative has provided a redefinition of the CPPCC's mission and function: that is, genuine political consultation. From being the party's yes-man, it can begin to exercise a proper function: checking power, criticising authority, and speaking the truth on behalf of the public.

Many of the CPPCC members who have read Wang's letter online have marvelled at how he has "absolved the CPPCC of shame". Such words amply demonstrate what people are thinking. I believe that in future, more and more people will stand up and by example make the right to freedom of expression one of the Chinese people's fundamental human rights (see Lung Ying-tai, "A question of civility: an open letter to Hu Jintao", 15 February 2006). Indeed, it is the bravery of ordinary Chinese people to express themselves and speak the truth - and only this - that will advance the democratic process in China.

The seventeenth national congress of the Chinese Communist Party on 15-19 October 2007 is attracting high levels of interest from the foreign media. According to some reports, more than 1,000 foreign journalists have already applied to cover the event. Many of these reporters have been contacting me for explanations of the issues involved, and one prominent subject has been the rising political stars who may soon be promoted to positions of greater power. It seems to me that there is a lot of misunderstanding of the competition between the so-called "princelings" and their putative different factions, so this column attempts to clarify this by providing a brief analysis of this question.