Signals in China of a More Open Economy
on December 10, 2012
Xi Jinping, the new Communist Party head, visited Shenzhen in south China, a symbol of the embrace of a state-led capitalism.
Xi Jinping, the new Communist Party head, visited Shenzhen in south China, a symbol of the embrace of a state-led capitalism.
In Chinese, there are an impressive number of ways to describe saying nothing at all. When a person is determined to speak at length but not in depth, he can embark on a long jog of feihua—literally, wasted words—or perhaps pass the time at the podium by slathering honored guests in polite ketaohua. When those run dry, the experienced speaker will seek refuge in the damp, wooly depths of guanhua—the bureaucratic jargon of numbered clauses, of theories firmly upheld and banners held high. But the most effective and subtle variety may be the xuci’er—the hollow words—those grand placeholders of meaning that, over time, reveal themselves to contain nothing at all.
A new survey shows that the real unemployment rate in China is double the official level, and layoffs rose sharply among migrant workers in the past year, underlining a challenge for China's new leaders to maintain growth. The survey of 8,000 households shows the urban unemployment rate hit 8.05% in June, up slightly from 8% in August 2011 and nearly twice as high as the official 4.1% rate. The survey was run by Gan Li, an economics professor at South Western University of Finance and Economics in Chengdu.
A 15-year-old girl has made waves in the Chinese press recently for her fight against Shanghai authorities after she was banned from taking the college entrance examination because she does not hold a Shanghaihukou(household registration). She and her family have experienced harassment from locals and authorities as a result of their advocacy.
Glad-handing with the locals. Kissing babies. Eating fast food. These are tried and true ways that American politicians seek to advertise their common touch; but when China’s new leaders employ these methods, it is greeted as a pleasant surprise, maybe even a sign of reform.
Xi Jinping, China’s new leader, has recently embarked on a low-key barnstorming of China’s entrepreneurial South. The mere fact of Xi’s visit is exciting to Chinese liberals, echoing as it does the “Southern Tour” of reformist leader Deng Xiaoping in 1992, an early prelude to China’s market liberalization.
Well-known Chinese environmentalist Liu Futang has been convicted of carrying out “illegal business activities,” given a three-year suspended prison sentence, and fined 17,000 yuan.
A crowd of angry investors packed a Shanghai branch of Huaxia Bank on December 3 after they heard that the money wasn’t there for the first of four repayments for a 119 million-yuan wealth management plan. They demanded their money back from Huaxia.
Among the protesters was a factory owner from the nearby city of Ningbo, who rushed to Shanghai with his wife and groom-to-be son after hearing his investment was in trouble.
The country’s recent leadership transition was widely depicted as a triumph for conservative hardliners and a setback for the cause of reform—a characterization that has deepened the gloominess that pervades Western perceptions of China.
In fact, nothing could be further from the truth.
It wasn’t very long ago that the Chinese blogosphere became engrossed with two near-simultaneous and very public posts by well-known expats marking their decisions to leave China for greener pastures. While grumbling about this country is nothing new, this event was notable for kicking off a flurry of media coverage internationally on the question of whether China is becoming hostile to foreigners, and when and to where disgruntled expats should hoof it.
On October 11 Peter Englund, permanent secretary of the Swedish Academy in Stockholm, announced that the Nobel Prize in Literature for 2012 will go to the fifty-seven-year-old Chinese writer Guan Moye, better known as Mo Yan, a pen name that means “don’t talk.” (The name is said to have originated in advice his parents gave him as a school-age boy during the Mao era.)