A gray-haired portrait artist selling his work by the waterfront in
Beidaihe says he feels his country needs strong leaders. The best, he
adds, would be another revolutionary along the lines of Mao Zedong.
The artist has set out three portraits of the founder of the People's
Republic of China. This isn't just a way of drawing in tourists to sit
for one of his portraits; it's also a sign of how much he admires Mao.
The leader united the nation, he says, and created something lasting --
and that's more than he can say about his country's current leaders, of
whom he's made no portraits.
As if that weren't enough, Mao's successors are now disrupting his
business by appropriating what seems like all of Beidaihe, a seaside
resort town two hours northeast of Beijing by train. Only rarely have
China's leaders cordoned off their traditional summer retreat so
nervously. Indeed, things weren't even this way in the legendary days
when Mao himself and other major figures, including the reformer Deng
Xiaoping swam in the Pacific from this beach.
This year, the hordes of wealthy Russians who usually come here from
Siberia have stayed away. In fact, rumor has it that Chinese authorities
leaned on tour operators to allow as few foreigners as possible into
the exclusive resort.
Vacationers arriving in Beidaihe by road must allow police to search
their luggage. Uniformed officers guard every intersection, and
plainclothes police mingle with bathers on the beach.
Beijing's top leaders and their families have retreated to this
resort every summer since the days of Mao. But all these added security
measures are a result of the important things they have to discuss.
Here, in villas ringed by pines, the country's most powerful individuals
are bickering over the precise makeup of the next generation set to
assume the reins of the Communist Party at its National Congress this
October.
Trouble in
Paradise
China's Communists associate Beidaihe with more than just surfing and
sunblock. The name also conjures up memories of political dramas and
haggling over posts. It was here, in 1971, that Lin Biao, Mao's
designated successor, finally realized he'd fallen out of favor. He fled
by plane, together with his wife and son, only to die in a mysterious
crash in Mongolia.
It was also here, in the summer of 1997, that then-party leader Jiang
Zemin had a hard time prevailing against his colleagues. The party's
leadership had been unable to agree on proposed personnel changes for
the 15th National Congress. But, in the fall, only three days before the
congress, Jiang was able to reap the fruits of his intrigue-filled
summer: Chen Xitong, who had been removed from his position as mayor of
Beijing and was a bitter rival of Jiang, was kicked out of the Communist
Party on suspicion of corruption. A year later, Chen was sentenced to
16 years in prison.
Five years ago, Beidaihe was also where Hu Jintao, the 69-year-old
president of China and general secretary of its Communist Party, failed
to set up a favorite as his successor early on. Hu had hoped to get Li
Keqiang, a confidant of many years and the current deputy premier,
designated as his successor.
Instead, the party's old guard, whose members are loyal to former
General Secretary Jiang Zemin, have seen to it that Vice President Xi
Jinping, 59, will become the party's new leader this October and China's
president in the spring of 2013, and that Li will work under him as
China's premier.
A Country Reaching Its Limits
China's new leadership will face enormous challenges. The last five
years have seen economic growth drop by roughly half in the world's
manufacturing giant. New instances of social unrest continue to flare up
around the country. Recently, locals in southwestern China even managed
to stop the construction of a heavy metals factory that would have hurt
the environment.
For years, China's one-party dictatorship even won admirers in the
West, and everything seemed to be going according to plan for its
Communist Party. But, now, it's precisely the fact that the country
isn't based on the rule of law that threatens to bar it from even
greater success. If the party wants to transform the nation from a
cheap-goods factory into a high-tech laboratory, it must have the
courage to make political reforms. More specifically, it needs to limit
the power held by state-owned enterprises and allow creative private
companies more freedom and legal security.
China is also reaching its limits in terms of foreign policy.
Neighbors such as Vietnam and the Philippines are turning to the US for
protection against their larger neighbor as it attempts to lay claim to
the entire South China Sea. In mid-July, Japan temporarily recalled its
ambassador from Beijing in response to rising tensions over a disputed
group of islands.
There are certainly plenty of reasons to start a public debate on
China's future -- yet there's nothing that Beijing fears more. The
country's leaders, always worried about maintaining stability, are
increasing their control over Internet use in the country. A new points
system is designed to intimidate users of Weibo, a Chinese analogue to
Twitter. A user determined to be blogging politically incorrect content
loses points and ultimately risks having his or her user account
deleted.
At the moment, the authorities are been particularly zealous about
censoring any online content that touches on the power struggle taking
place among leaders in Beijing. For example, entering "Xi" -- the future
president's family name -- into a search engine immediately yields an
error message. The government's motives were perhaps best -- and
unintentionally -- revealed when Beijing recently placed the word
"zhenshi," or "truth," on its list of banned words for several days.
Problems with Transition
Even here in Beidaihe, locals can only make guesses about exactly
what their leaders are discussing. "I've never actually caught sight of
any of them," says a man in charge of changing rooms and showers on the
beach. "Only my father-in-law once saw Mao, when he went out for a
swim."
The fact that the leaders distance themselves from the rest of the
population only serves to increase the murmurings among curious
onlookers. Twice in one day, for example, ambulances entered the
off-limits area occupied by the politicians, firing speculation that
some of the older comrades might be having trouble with the hot weather.
Elderly party members, in particular, use the summer break to stir up
memories. For example, just before this summer season began, Li Peng,
re-emerged in the public eye with the publication of a collection of his
old speeches and essays.
The 83-year-old former prime minister, whom many hold responsible for
the government's bloody crackdown against demonstrators in Tiananmen
Square in 1989, appears to be attempting to protect his family's
business interests under China's new leadership. His daughter heads one
of the country's largest power companies.
Indeed, the jockeying for government posts currently taking place in
Beidaihe is not only about political power, but also about economic
interests. The Politburo Standing Committee will decide who gets the
best positions. It currently consists of nine members, but aside from
the new governing partnership of Xi Jinping and Li Keqiang, age will be
forcing all of its current members to retire and be replaced this fall.
Even the party's leader, first among equals on this committee, will have
to haggle to reach compromises, as if he were the CEO of China Inc.
arguing with its board.
Party leaders are also arguing over how many members the Standing
Committee should have. Some seem to favor scaling the committee down and
distributing control of the country's security apparatus among several
members. Standing Committee member Zhou Yongkang currently holds
complete control over this area, even though there were recent rumors
that he had contemplated a coup.
Money and the Political Elite
One significant maneuver in this power struggle came this spring,
when leaders in Beijing put a halt to the ambitions of Bo Xilai, the
popular party chairman of Chongqing, who had hoped for a position on the
Standing Committee. Once feted as a "red crown prince" because of his
status as the son of one of the country's revolutionary heroes, Bo
sparked a building boom in his city, creating the highest economic
growth in the entire country. He also had residents of Chongqing gather
in the city's parks to sing revolutionary songs from Mao's day as part
of his efforts at combating the widening gap between China's rich and
poor.
There are rumors that the Communist Party is holding the ousted
politician at a military hospital in Beijing. Meanwhile, the question of
how and on what grounds to permanently end Bo's political career is
probably causing a few more headaches for party leaders gathered in
Beidaihe. The scandal surrounding Bo's wife, who has been accused of
illegally moving funds abroad and having a British business partner
murdered, is drawing attention to other corrupt individuals among the
elite, as well.
Party leaders and their families control important economic sectors
in China. Hu Haifeng, son of the current president, has long been head
of Nuctech, a company that supplies airports and train stations with
luggage security scanners. Premier Wen Jiabao's son successfully runs
multiple satellite-communication companies, while Wen's wife has made a
fortune in the jewelry business. According to calculations by the
American news agency
Bloomberg, being well-connected in this way
has helped the extended family of incoming party leader Xi accumulate
assets worth some €297 million ($360 million).
All that bears little relation to Mao's China, whose loss so many
here in Beidaihe claim to mourn. The people were worse off in the
dictator's day -- but at least almost everyone was equally badly off.
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