I visited China to attend two
conferences, in Beijing and Changsha, and offer some
reflections on my trip. Subsequent blog entries will
cover my tourist experiences and the conferences.
I've just returned from a long week's trip to China, where I spent
four full days in Beijing and two in Changsha, an obscure little
village of about six million people, which does not even make the
top twenty list of Chinese cities. First I will cover the grungy
details of travel, and my first impressions of Beijing. Then I
present some thoughts about Chinese economics and politics, based on
conversations with those who live there.
Impressions
The trip to China is pretty brutal, at least given the connections I
made. I had initially booked a flight with only one stop and
plane change in Seattle, but Delta changed their Seattle-Beijing
schedule, and after I pointed out that this would leave me stranded
in Seattle with a nine-hour layover, they put me instead on a
Boston-Detroit flight that connected with a Detroit-Seattle flight,
which left me only a bit over three hours to kill at SeaTac. Most
airports nowadays are very stingy with electrical outlets and
movable chairs, so my computing options were only to run down my
battery sitting in a comfortable chair in the waiting area or to sit
on the floor near the public phones. Of course I did the latter, but
this put me in a less than perfect mood approaching the flight,
whose length furthered my ennui. I left for the airport in
Boston at about 10am on Friday, landed at ten minutes after midnight
on Sunday and got to my hotel at about 2am, so technically I spent
two nights traveling. In reality, because there is a twelve
hour time zone difference (it's that much later in Beijing), door to
door travel time was "only" twenty-eight hours. But enough
kvetching.
Beijing has been almost completely Haussmann'd, as almost all the
old hutong (little narrow streets full of shops, people, bicycles,
etc.) have been torn down to make way for a rectangular grid of
roads that remind me of the Santa Monica Freeway with traffic
lights, both in their width (the biggest have five lanes in each
direction, plus bike lanes and pedestrian sidewalks), almost
constant bumper to bumper traffic, and drivers who weave in and out
of traffic. Unlike Los Angeles, there are also vast fleets of buses
running all over, so the right lane is usually impassable. The next
lane out is also chancy because private vans stop to pick up or
discharge people beyond the buses. And traffic signs and
signals are taken as advisory. The airport expressway has
lanes marked 60-100, 80-100, and 90-120, from right to left, but my
driver would think nothing of swerving into one of the right lanes
(or even an exit lane on occasion) to get around "slowpokes" who
only slightly exceed the speed limit. In city traffic, the
etiquette seems to be to honk at people who you are about to cut
off, and to squeeze into slots in traffic so long as the person in
that lane is not moving fast enough to wipe you out. My first
morning, we were walking with our tour guide to his parked van, and
I almost got run down by a city bus that decided to barrel through
the intersection even though I had a green walk light and his was
red. There is also a graceful dance between pedestrians and
many bicyclists to establish priority of place without actually
wiping out. In fact, I didn't see a single accident during my
time in China, so perhaps the Dutch experiment in eliminating
traffic signals will work by making everyone more aware and
cautious. For an American, however, this represents a
challenge to learn the scheme before dying.
Beijing is laid out (courtesy, I'm sure, of the recent demolitions)
as a grid of compass-aligned major roads, with a surprisingly few
smaller streets in between. There is also a concentric set of
circular (really rectangular) highways centered on Tien An Men
Square and the Forbidden City, which are clearly the landmark
centers of the city. These roads are like the Ring in Vienna
or the sequence of Körúts in Budapest, except that each is a freeway
rather than a surface street. I saw circular roads number 1,
2, 3, 4, and 5, at progressive distances from the center, and I hear
they are building number 6. There are also radial highways
going off in different directions (e.g., the Airport, the Great
Wall), and these seem to be toll roads. Overall, it's a pretty good
design for an LA-like city built on flat ground, but they are
constantly complaining about the ever-growing number of people with
cars, which puts increasing stress on any road network.
Economics and Politics
A TV report on the evening I left brought the sad news that the
expected GDP growth rate for 2010 is only 9.7%, and this is the
first time that rate has fallen under 10% in many years.
Despite the fact that we think we are the consumers of China's
industrial goods, apparently they actually sell more to Europe than
to the US, and the trauma of threatened bankruptcies of various EU
countries plus the consequent decline of the Euro have hurt Chinese
export. Nevertheless, nearly 10% is a growth rate most
countries could only wish for, and the skyline of Beijing (and
Changsha) bristles with construction cranes. Near the
Dongzhimen subway station, where I waited for my shuttle bus back to
the airport hotel on my last night in Beijing, there was a huge new
complex being built, containing a shopping center, hotel, office
building, and residential towers. As the bus wound its way
through northeastern Beijing, I must have seen a dozen such huge
projects under way. I asked one of my Chinese colleagues why I
have not seen the Stalinist era huge ugly apartment buildings that I
have seen all over formerly Communist Europe, and he was surprised
at my expectation. He said, but those were built in the
1950's—they are old and small! In fact, China seems happy to
erase the past continually, and is rich enough to be able to do so
frequently. I know that US authorities suggest all the time
that China must increase its domestic consumption and stop relying
solely on exports to grow its economy. Perhaps this is true at
the personal level, but I am certainly seeing a great deal of their
steel, concrete and glass going into these new buildings. I do
sense that the Yuan (officially called the Renminbi) is undervalued.
Everything is quite a bit cheaper here, except for coffee, which
even exceeds US Starbuck's prices. A bus ride is 1 yuan, a
subway ticket is 2 yuan, a McFlurry is 9 yuan, so at the official
exchange rate of about 6.8 yuan to the dollar, these correspond to
15 cents, 29 cents, and $1.32. My first Beijing hotel, a very
luxurious place next to Peking University, cost about $125/night,
the still lovely (but loud) Sino-Swiss Hotel by the airport was
about $77, and my really nice hotel in Changsha was about $40.
As in the US, there are various taxes and service charges on top of
this, but still the prices are very low by US (or European or
Japanese) standards. I suspect that this is critical in order
to allow workers to feel content (or at least not to rebel) with
their very low wages. China is resisting allowing the Yuan to
rise against foreign currencies, but from such data it really
should, on the international markets.
In a very interesting discussion with a Chinese man who got his PhD
in the US and then spent a decade in US research and development
labs before returning to China, I got some interesting
insights. The most dramatic is that China is really a
two-class society, which is clearly visible in the style of
individuals' identity cards. The farmer/peasant class,
representing about 5/6 of the enormous population, gets very few
privileges from the society, whereas the other 1/6 get good health
care, subsidized education, pensions, and permission to live in the
cities, enjoy high-paying and high-prestige jobs, and essentially to
live in the developed world. The farmers are expected to farm,
and continue to lead the traditional Chinese lives of their
ancestors, except for those who happened to live in desirable
places, where their lands were bought (good) or confiscated (bad) to
make room for new industrial areas, luxury housing, etc. The
desirable places are near the ever-expanding cities, and on the
coastline, which Chinese find attractive just as Americans do.
There is a plan to change the status of all the 5/6 who are cut out
of societal benefits by 2020, though the government has been relying
on spectacular growth of the economy to finance the astronomical
cost. Now they are starting to backtrack a bit on the date,
but the conversion proceeds. For example, the government has
decided that they can solve the Uigur problem by making them all
first-class citizens, and thus giving them a stake in the
country. It helps that there are relatively very few Uigurs,
so this is cheap. It's a bit like the US 1960's idea that we
could have avoided fighting the Vietnam war just by buying off the
Viet Cong. I wonder whether it will work in China.
Although my informant's perception is that the biggest differences
among people are these economic ones, China does have many ethnic
minorities, constituting about 10% of the population (thus, about
140 million people, or nearly half the US population), and many of
these also practice different religions and cultural traditions, so
it may be that even tons of money will not solve all problems.
Nevertheless, the government is strongly focused on preserving
stability at the expense of all other goals. China has a very
long tradition of revolutions, usually led by a popular demagogue
rousing the peasant masses, often in times of famine and economic
hardship. Mao Zedong (whom I'm used to calling Mao Tse Tung)
represents only the most recent example. Empires have been
overthrown, and new dynasties and rulers established as a result of
such events, so the current leaders have no desire to fall victim to
such fighting and changes. This is why economic freedom (which
is quite substantial) has not been accompanied by political freedom.
Nevertheless, at least for the intellectual class, and in private,
there is essentially total freedom of speech, no fear of
denunciations, freedom of travel, and mostly bitter memories of the
repression of intellectuals by Mao and the Red Guards.
However, they are not free to make their ideas public, because that
could be viewed as an incitement of the farmers, and thus the seed
of instability.
I also heard about the events through which the Ming Dynasty came to
an end and the Ching (Qing) began. In the 17th century, a
great famine led to revolt, by peasants led by a rabble rouser, and
they sacked Beijing. One of the leaders of the revolt
confiscated the residence (and concubines and possessions) of a
general of the old reign, who was commanding the soldiers guarding
the Great Wall, and when he discovered this, he had his men open the
gates in the Wall and invite the Manchu hordes to invade.
Hence the Qing Dynasty, wherein the rulers were Manchurian, who
ruled until the early 20th century.
Even the relatively recent history of China offers a reminder of the
power of leaders who can rouse large segments of the populace to
action. For example, Mao clearly led a farmers’ revolt against the
ruling Kuomintang for decades until the Communists won the Chinese
Civil War in 1949 and established the People’s Republic. But
what I did not know was that the Cultural
Revolution of the 1960’s was essentially a second similar
struggle led by Mao, with the Red Guards playing the role of the
farmers, to re-take control of the government that he had lost in
the aftermath of the debacle and famine of the Great Leap Forward of
the 1950’s, for which he was largely held responsible.
This history, both ancient and modern, explains the paramount place
of stability in the thoughts of the government.