COVER STORY

President gets a free hand

Hu is China's new military head.  Will democracy flow from the barrel of a gun?

Jehangir S. Pocha

BEIJINGERS are really going to enjoy this weekend. Autumn winds have finally rescued the city from the heat and dust of summer, and Jiang Zemin's resignation as the head of China's military has cooled the political uncertainties simmering here for weeks.

Though Jiang, 78, had handed China's presidency and leadership of its Communist Party to the intensely private Hu Jintao, 61, two years ago, he seemed reluctant to let go of his last position of consequence.

His continuing presence in the power structure created "a dual-headed leadership, with each head making different calculations," said Sin-Ming Shaw, a Hong Kong-based analyst. This was sapping the government's decision-making ability, and rumours of the power struggle between the two were spreading.

As things came to a crunch, it was probably Jiang's reputation of being soft on Taiwan that paved the way for his departure, say analysts. Hu took a belligerent stance on the future of the island, which Beijing considers a renegade province, promising to invade it if it declared independence from China.

With chauvinistic patriotism and anti-US feelings running high in China, it convinced military hardliners that Hu was the right man to head the military - not Jiang, who was seen as unable to stand up to the US. However, the true facts behind Jiang's exit are unlikely to be known for another 20 years.

On the streets, the departure of this relatively colourful figure, whose favourite parlour trick was to recite the Gettysburg address in his Russian-accented English, was neither celebrated nor mourned. The opposite of love, they say, is not hate but indifference.

Hu and his ally premier Wen Jiaobao, now have a free hand to run the world's most populous country. Said Chen Xin, professor of sociology at the Chinese Academy of Social Sciences in Beijing: "...I think we will see a different China emerging." But this different China isn't likely to be a more democratic one. Chinese pro-democracy activists say that China is likely to enter a phase during which its people may be given more rights but will experience less democracy. The first indication of this came in March this year when the Chinese Communist Party's 18th National People's Congress passed landmark legislation granting citizens private property rights and formally enshrining the words 'human rights' in China's Constitution. The move rejuvenated many people's faith in a government increasingly seen as corrupt and self-serving.

But civil activists, such as Gao Zhi Sheng, a public interest lawyer in Beijing, say these new rights only give people the feeling of freedom as they exist within a framework controlled by the government instead of the judiciary. And in China there is no separation between the state and judiciary, anyway.

"There are no mechanisms for enforcing these rights and the government can ignore them anytime. So, the only real freedom in China is the government's freedom from accountability," says Gao. Clearly, China's new rights have not altered the fate of those in its Laogai (literally, forced labour) prison system, which holds between six million and 15 million prisoners, including Tibetan and Uighur independence activists, in dehumanising conditions. They have also not prevented Hu from turning back many of the minor political reforms Jiang and his predecessor Deng Xiaoping had initiated.

Government surveillance, intimidation, and indiscriminate arrests appear to be on the rise, says Wenzhou Hou, a human rights activist, who herself was recently detained by authorities. Internet users and media organisations are increasingly becoming subjects to government vigilance. Recently, Zhao Yan, a local employee of the New York Times who allegedly helped break the story of Jiang's imminent resignation, was held for "illegally providing state secrets to foreigners".

Yawei Liu, associate director of the China Village Elections Project at the Carter Center in Atlanta, says even the limited village-level elections initiated by Deng, which allowed people from outside the communist party to be elected to local political posts, are being undermined. Farmers protesting this and other issues are often arrested en masse throughout the country.

Publicly, many Chinese seem to support the government's hardnosed attitude. "...It may take many decades before we can have democracy ... right now we need to focus on stability and development," said Chen Mingfeng, 36, a businessman in Xi'an. But the trade-off between development and freedom only works as long as there is continuous economic growth that is shared by the majority of people. "Otherwise some sections get restive," said Chen. Fearing that's exactly what's happening, Hu has vowed a reversal in Jiang's self-created governing theory of 'Three Represents', which "brought massive GDP growth but created terrible inequalities," said Chen.

In contrast, Hu, said to be a thoughtful man who loves to do the fox- trot and spend quiet evenings at home with his ailing wife, has promised a kinder, gentler China. He and premier Wen have committed their government to fixing China's healthcare and education systems, boosting development in rural western China (where incomes are one-tenth of those in the coastal East), and repairing the environmental damage from two decades of relentless economic growth.

But this hasn't dimmed Hu's reputed ability to play both sides of the game. While he is said to be lending a sympathetic ear to those who think China's economic reforms have strayed too far, he's taken several economic decisions that have set China further along the path of market reform, including opening up of China's oil and energy industry to foreign investors and restructuring its vulnerable national banks and pension plans. While such pragmatism reassures some, it doesn't make Hu's China very predictable. But then China's never been easy to read. Just ask Jiang Zemin.