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Tiananmen: victory for capitalism
Richard Spencer on the true
meaning of the massacre that horrified the world 15 years ago
Beijing
‘Tell me,’ a Chinese friend asked me the other day. ‘Why are you
so interested in poor people?’ Urban sophisticate that she is, she
couldn’t quite figure out the point of the story I was writing,
about a poverty-stricken village in the middle of nowhere. I wasn’t
entirely sure myself, actually, but rather than go into the difference
between Telegraph and Guardian readers I decided to try a bit of
home-spun egalitarianism. ‘Well, put it this way. You have a smart
flat, a smart car, you go to smart restaurants, just like folk like
you in Britain. But then there are your fellow Chinese who have
nothing, not even running water. And you’re a communist country
too, right? That’s interesting, isn’t it?’ The look on her face
was halfway between bafflement and scorn. ‘My goodness,’ she said
politely, and left it at that.
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‘I’ve known for ages. The Iranians
told me.’ |
China is, as most people are aware by now, a funny sort of communist
country. Journalists are often invited to press conferences with top
leaders like Wen Jiabao, the friendly Prime Minister who visited Britain
last month, and lectured about the virtues of stability and modest
living. Chinese newspapers are less reserved, blasting away at American
hegemonism, and extolling the virtues of Mao Tse-tung Thought, Deng
Xiaoping Theory, and Marxism with Chinese characteristics.
Capitalism it’s got big, but the one thing you rarely see discussed
is just how right-wing China is. Not just right-wing for a communist
country, with an injection of American investment here and there,
but full of gut-instinct right-wingery; right-wingery of the sort
that regards China’s newly enormous disparity of wealth as perhaps
natural, at worst a necessary evil; right-wingery that regards authoritarian,
paternalistic control, particularly of the poor, as a duty of government;
right-wingery of the sort that elsewhere has student radicals marching
in the street crying fascist.
China had its own student radicals crying fascist once, of course.
That was 15 years ago to the day as I write this, but when the tanks
rolled into Tiananmen Square we all supposed the nation was being
saved for socialism, and when the tanks didn’t roll a few months later
in Eastern Europe the contrast appeared to prove the point. Looking
back on that time, however, it’s pretty fair to say that we all got
things wrong. Most people thought the Tiananmen massacre just delayed
the inevitable, that shortly the regime would fall, democracy would
arrive, and everyone would agree what a big mistake sending in the
troops had been. Peasants would discover the voting booth, as they
did in South Africa; apparatchiks would mingle with oil barons, as
in Russia; it would all be very exciting and end-of-historyish. But
in fact the opposite turned out to be true: not only is the regime
still there, but it sees the Tiananmen Square crackdown as a monumental
success story for China. It’s just that it wasn’t making the country
safe for socialism, it was making it safe for capitalism.
When I say success, that might seem callous. But look at it from the
point of view of Deng Xiaoping, the paramount leader. He thought China
was about to fall into a second Cultural Revolution, only worse. He
painted a picture of civil war, of refugees flooding China’s prosperous
Asian neighbours. But then he added, to those old revolutionary friends
of his who held the country in their hands, ‘The momentum of reform
cannot be stopped. We must insist on this point at all times.’ Opening
and reform, the buzz words of the Deng era, were the key to it all.
And who can deny they have happened? In the years since, the proportion
of the economy owned by the state or collectives has plunged and the
economy has grown by 9 per cent a year. Deng met his target of quadrupling
GDP in two decades. Underdeveloped countries which did throw off the
shackles of dictatorship, like the Philippines and Indonesia, now
look on with awe. Hong Kong is full of educated, free-thinking middle-class
people from the Philippines; they work as maids, because there are
no jobs at home.
Some will rightly point out that if China is capitalist it’s not capitalist
in the sense that Wall Street bankers understand. Half the economy
— over half, some say, depending on how you define and count — is
still in the hands of the government and its state-owned enterprises.
When you see all these big Chinese firms listing on the Hong Kong
and New York stock exchanges, they are usually pretty peculiar entities
— artificially created subsidiaries of big state businesses which
still have the controlling share. The listings are capital-raising
exercises, rather than privatisation as we know it. Some go so far
as to laud the ‘Beijing consensus’ as a Third Way alternative to Washington/IMF
extremism.
Nevertheless, privatisation is happening, and even these listings
couldn’t happen if many state firms were not doing what privatised
firms have to do to survive — merging, modernising, laying off workers.
Over the last half decade, anywhere between 20 and 40 million workers
have been made redundant by the old state sector. You can see now
more clearly where Tiananmen Square comes in. In Britain, 30,000 miners
caused headaches. In Russia, the country China itself holds up for
horrified comparison, all those new poor did outrageous things like,
when they got the chance, voting for a return to the old communist
ways. China couldn’t have that.
And those numbers are small compared with the estimated 300 million
rural peasants who, to make China’s economy and agriculture efficient,
will one day soon have to leave the land and come and find work in
the cities. China is the World Trade Organisation now, too, and the
thought of 300 million Chinese peasants discovering that their rice
is more expensive than American rice and becoming anti-globalisation
protesters is an alarming one. They might come to the city to riot,
not work. Luckily, China still has a hukou, or residency permit system,
akin to the old apartheid pass system, enabling unemployed peasants
to be turfed back to where they came from before they cause trouble.
Probably the most visible success story in China in the last decade
has been the cash flowing in from the multinationals and Taiwanese
and Hong Kong businessmen. Foreign direct investment in China is now
the highest in the world: a vote of confidence in its economic ordering
if ever there was one. Opening and reform should be the Chinese translation
of globalisation. Foreign money builds the factories where the world’s
shoes, underwear and wristwatches are made. It builds factories to
make cars — not just runabouts but BMWs and Audis — for the country’s
middle classes. And we can all see why. Not only is labour cheap —
which is true across much of the world, after all — but it is well-ordered
and, above all, not organised. Free trade unions are banned. There
is an official, party-run union, but it is not known for its activism.
One of the most amusing spats this year was between the state media
and Wal-Mart which, rightly seeing China as the new Midwest, has started
opening stores here. Wal-Mart does not recognise trade unions, and
this policy was applied to China. The media professed outrage that
the workers’ voice was being silenced, which goes to show that just
as left-wing unions have ideological disputes, so do their opponents.
The general assumption of a politician like Tony Blair, who wants
to see more and more British investment, is that it is a win-win process
— good for Western business, good for China. There is still a feeling
that although Tiananmen Square put things back for a bit, all that
economic liberalisation must be followed by political freedom somewhere
down the line, and that constructive engagement, as it used to be
known when South Africa was the issue, will help it along.
If so, there is not much sign of it at the moment: newspaper editors
are arrested and dissidents who might say something controversial
during the Tiananmen anniversary are put under house arrest. An interesting
series of papers by a Harvard University academic had a different
interpretation of foreign investment in China: for the most part,
it was not just another aspect of a burgeoning local private economy,
but a replacement for it. Private entrepreneurs, though theoretically
protected in China, get very little access to financing, as bank loans
are directed to state firms. The cash, instead, came from foreign
firms.
The political advantage for the government is this: the economy is
left in the hands of two sets of people with a vested interest in
the status quo — state firms run by party appointees, and foreigners,
who know they have to keep on the good side of party officials to
extricate their cash as profits. The other thing the party has realised
in the last 15 years, apart from the fact that ambitious young graduates
can soon be bought off with company cars, is that people still have
to feel they believe in something. Hence the fuss about the Diaoyutai
islands. The what? Well, they are small, uninhabited and entirely
unimportant. Nevertheless, the fact that they are owned by the Japanese
when the Chinese think they belong to them is enough for regular protests
at the Japanese embassy and symbolic raiding parties on the islands
themselves, which are a couple of hundred miles away from the Chinese
coast. Nationalism is the new ideology of state. Critics of government
policy are no longer revisionists or counter-revolutionaries, words
which have disappeared from the official lexicon. Instead, when a
Hong Kong democrat is kicking up a fuss about elections, some official
will turn purple, splutter and in full Colonel Blimp mode accuse him
of being a traitor. A young punk rocker was asked by a (foreign) interviewer
what made him really angry. ‘Japanese occupation of the Diaoyutais,’
he replied.
Sometimes this nationalism is turned against the Americans, but mostly
the Chinese love the Americans and the American way. While Chinese
leaders make up to Europe in the eventual hope of a ‘multipolar world’,
there is no doubt that they prefer George Bush to Romano Prodi when
it comes to diplomatic horse-trading. And if you ask people what developmental
model China is following, few mention Europe, with its long tradition
of monarchs and autarchs giving way to modern economies. China is
a Wild West, bringing railways, industry (and prostitution) to its
inner vastness as it seeks to subdue those rebellious and primitive
natives: Tibetans and Muslims, for example.
One senior diplomat in Beijing expresses his support of his government’s
engagement with China, and regards the EU arms embargo imposed after
Tiananmen as a slightly meaningless formality — as, apparently, does
Mr Blair, who is said to want it lifted. In private, should you ask
how open China will be in 20 years’ time, the diplomat ventures the
suggestion that it will be just like now, but richer and more powerful.
That is a right-wing prospect, but not necessarily a pleasant one.
It is hard to imagine businesses doing anything other than investing
in China, but I do wonder how we will all feel when it happens.
Last Christmas was another significant anniversary, of Mao Tse-tung’s
110th birthday. The Daily Telegraph interviewed a teenage boy queuing
up outside the Great Helmsman’s mausoleum on Tiananmen Square. He
was a Young Pioneer, and about to be inducted into the Communist Youth
League. What was Mao’s relevance to him today? ‘We learn from Mao
that you can always achieve your goal if you struggle and work hard
enough,’ he said, in all seriousness. And what was his goal? ‘To go
to America,’ he said.
He probably will, and if he comes back it will be to work for Ford
or IBM. Fifteen years ago, the tanks were rolling where he stood,
and he is a child of that day.
Richard Spencer is Beijing correspondent of the Daily Telegraph.
© 2004 The Spectator.co.uk
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