Have China Scholars All Been Bought?

Academics who study China, which includes the author, habitually please the Chinese Communist Party, sometimes consciously, and often unconsciously. Our incentives are to conform, and we do so in numerous ways: through the research questions we ask or don’t ask, through the facts we report or ignore, through our use of language, and through what and how we teach.

Foreign academics must cooperate with academics in China to collect data and co-author research. Surveys are conducted in a manner that is acceptable to the Party, and their content is limited to politically acceptable questions. For academics in China, such choices come naturally. The Western side plays along.

China researchers are equally constrained in their solo research. Some Western China scholars have relatives in China. Others own apartments there. Those China scholars whose mother tongue is not Chinese have studied the language for years and have built their careers on this large and nontransferable investment. We benefit from our connections in China to obtain information and insights, and we protect these connections. Everybody is happy, Western readers for the up-to-date view from academia, we ourselves for prospering in our jobs, and the Party for getting us to do its advertising. China is fairly unique in that the incentives for academics all go one way: One does not upset the Party.

What happens when we don’t play along is all too obvious. We can’t attract Chinese collaborators. When we poke around in China to do research we run into trouble. Li Shaomin, associate professor in the marketing department of City University in Hong Kong and a U.S. citizen, spent five months in a Chinese jail on charges of “endangering state security.” In his own words, his crimes were his critical views of China’s political system, his visits to Taiwan, his use of Taiwanese funds to conduct research on politically sensitive issues, and his collecting research data in China. City University offered no support, and once he was released he went to teach at Old Dominion University in Virginia. One may wonder what five months in the hands of Chinese secret police does to one’s psyche, and what means the Party used to silence Mr. Li. To academics in Hong Kong, the signal was not lost.

China researchers across different disciplines may not all be equally affected. Economists and political scientists are likely to come up against the Party constraint frequently, and perhaps severely. But even sociologists or ethnographers can reach the forbidden zone when doing network studies or examining ethnic minority cultures.

Our self-censorship takes many forms. We ask Western instead of China-relevant questions. We try to explain the profitability of state-owned enterprises (SOEs) by basic economic factors, when it may make more sense to explain it by the quality of enterprise management (hand-picked by the Party’s “Organization Department”), or by the political constraints an enterprise faces, or by the political and bureaucratic channels through which an enterprise interacts with its owners, employees, suppliers and buyers. But how to collect systematic information about the influence of the Party on the operation of a state-owned or state-controlled enterprise, when these are typically matters that nobody in the enterprise will speak about?
We talk about economic institutions and their development over time as if they were institutions in the West. “Price administration” regulations, central and local, abound, giving officials far-reaching powers to interfere in the price-setting process. Yet we accept official statistics that show 90% of all prices, by trading value, to be market-determined. We do not question the meaning of the Chinese word shichang, translated as “market,” but presume it to be the same as in the West.

Similarly, we take at face value China’s Company Law, which makes no mention of the Party, even though the Party is likely to still call the shots in the companies organized under the Company Law. Only if one digs deeper will one find unambiguous evidence: The Shaanxi Provincial Party Committee and the Shaanxi government in a joint circular of 2006 explicitly require the Party cell in state-owned enterprises (including “companies”) to participate in all major enterprise decisions; the circular also requests that in all provincial state-owned enterprises the chairman of the board of directors and the Party secretary, in principle, are one and the same person. At the national level, the leadership of the 50 largest central state-owned enterprises—enterprises that invest around the world—is directly appointed by the Politburo. Economists do not ask what it means if the Party center increasingly runs enterprises in the U.S. and Europe.

The governor and Party secretary of China’s central bank, Zhou Xiaochuan, writes extensively in Chinese about “comprehensively accelerating central bank work” based on the “three represents” (the Party represents the “advanced productive forces, the advanced Chinese culture and the basic interests of the Chinese people”). He describes the three represents as “guiding macroeconomic policy” in ways that defy any Western concept of logic. And yet we take this person as seriously as if we were dealing with the governor of a Western central bank, as if China’s central bank were truly setting monetary policy, and as if the channels through which monetary policy operates in China and the impact monetary policy has on the economy are the same as in the West.

Are we naïve? Or are we justified in ignoring the central bank governor’s second—or rather, first—life as Party secretary? Are we subconsciously shutting out something that we do not comprehend, or something we do not want to see because it doesn’t fit into our neat, Western economic concepts?

Article after article pores over the potential economic reasons for the increase in income inequality in China. We ignore the fact that of the 3,220 Chinese citizens with a personal wealth of 100 million yuan ($13 million) or more, 2, 932 are children of high-level cadres. Of the key positions in the five industrial sectors—finance, foreign trade, land development, large-scale engineering and securities—85% to 90% are held by children of high-level cadres.

With the introduction of each new element of reform and transition, cadres enrich themselves: the dual track price system, the nonperforming loans, the asset-stripping of SOEs, the misuse of funds in investment companies and in private pension accounts. The overwhelmingly irregular transformation of rural into urban land may well qualify as “systematic looting” by local “leaders.” Local cadres are heavily invested in the small, unsafe coal mines they are supposed to close, and nobody knows how they obtained their stakes in these operations.

A general dearth of economic information shapes our research. Statistics on specific current issues are collected by the National Bureau of Statistics on special request of the Party Central Committee and the State Council. None of this information is likely to be available to the public. The quality of the statistics that are published comes with a large question mark. Outside the realm of official statistics, government departments at all levels collect and control internal information. What is published tends to be propaganda—pieces of information released with an ulterior objective in mind. One solution for China economists then is to resign themselves to conducting sterilized surveys and to building abstract models on the basis of convenient assumptions—of perfect competition, profit maximization given a production technology, household utility maximization with respect to consumption and subject to financial constraints, etc. How much this can tell us about China is unclear.

Other China economists openly accept favors from the Party. We can use our connections to link up with government cadres. We may be hosted in field research by local governments and local Party committees. A local Party committee, at one point, helped me out by providing a car, a Party cadre and a local government official. They directed me to enterprise managers who, presumably, gave all the right answers. The hosts were invariably highly supportive, but I ended up working in exactly the box in which they were thinking and operating. (This seems to be the only research project that I never completed.) Furthermore, those who go to the field and interview cadres may not only unwillingly become a tool of the Party, but also a tool in departmental infighting.

Our use of language to conform to the image the Party wishes to project is pervasive. Would the description “a secret society characterized by an attitude of popular hostility to law and government” not properly describe the secrecy of the Party’s operations, its supremacy above the law and its total control of government? In Webster’s New World College Dictionary, this is the definition of “mafia.”

We speak of the Chinese “government” without further qualification when more than 95% of the “leadership cadres” are Party members, key decisions are reached by leadership cadres in their function as members of Party work committees, the staff of the government Personnel Ministry is virtually identical to the staff of the Party Organization Department, the staff of the Supervision Ministry is virtually identical to the staff of the Party Disciplinary Commission, and the staff of the PRC Central Military Commission is usually 100% identical to the staff of the Chinese Communist Party’s Central Military Commission. Does China’s government actually govern China, or is it merely an organ that implements Party decisions? By using the word “government,” is it correct to grant the Chinese “government” this association with other, in particular Western, governments, or would it not be more accurate to call it the “government with Chinese characteristics” or the “mafia’s front man”? Who questions the legitimacy of the Party leadership to rule China, and to rule it the way it does?
The Party’s—or, the mafia’s—terminology pervades our writing and teaching. We do not ask if the Chinese Communist Party is communist, the People’s Congresses are congresses of the people, the People’s Liberation Army is liberating or suppressing the people, or if the judges are not all appointed by the Party and answer to the Party. We say “Tiananmen incident,” in conformance with Party terminology, but called it “Tiananmen massacre” right after the 1989 Tiananmen massacre, when “incident” would have made us look too submissive to the Party.

Which Western textbook on China’s political system elaborates on the Party’s selection and de facto appointment of government officials and parliamentary delegates, and, furthermore, points out these procedures as different from how we view political parties, government and parliament in the West? By following the Party’s lead in giving the names of Western institutions to fake Chinese imitations, we sanctify the Party’s pretenses. We are not even willing to call China what its own constitution calls it: a dictatorship (a “people’s democratic dictatorship led by the working class and based on the alliance of workers and peasants, which is in essence the dictatorship of the proletariat”).

Who lays out the systematic sale of leadership positions across Chinese governments and Party committees? The Heilongjiang scandal provides the going price list from the province down to the county level, a list not to be found in any textbook. The publicly known scope of the sale of positions does not leave much room for interpretation. For these salesmen and saleswomen of government positions to have nothing to fear, the rule of the mafia and its code of silence must be powerful beyond imagination.

What is not normal is accepted as normal for China. Hackers were collecting the incoming emails of a faculty member of the University of Hong Kong from the university’s server until they were found out in June 2005, when they accidentally deleted emails. The hackers came from three mainland Internet provider addresses, and all three IP addresses are state telecommunications firms. Within China, the staff of the foreign students’ dormitories includes public security officials who keep tabs on foreign students and compile each student’s file. In a Shanghai institution of tertiary education, typing “Jiang Zemin” into a search engine from a computer located on campus, three times in a row, leads to the automatic shutdown of access to that search engine for the whole campus. The Party is rumored to employ tens of thousands of Internet “police.” Phone calls are listened to, if not systematically recorded. Emails are filtered and sometimes not delivered. Who will not learn to instinctively avoid what the Party does not want them to think or do?

Party propaganda has found its way deeply into our thinking. The importance of “social stability” and nowadays a “harmonious society” are accepted unconditionally as important for China. But is a country with more than 200 incidents of social unrest every day really socially stable, and its society harmonious? Or does “socially stable” mean no more than acceptance of the rule of the mafia?

“Local government bad, central government good” is another propaganda truism that is accepted unquestioningly in the foreign research community, informing and shaping research questions. Yet, viewing the Party as a mafia, there is no room for such niceties, and reporting outside academia indeed suggests that the center hides a rather hideous second face, and inevitably does so for a purpose.

We see the “ends”—successful reform—and don’t question the “means.” The Party’s growth mantra is faithfully accepted as the overarching objective for the country and the one measure of successful reform. Nobody lingers on the political mechanisms through which growth is achieved. The mafia runs China rather efficiently, so why worry about how it is done, and what the “side effects” are? We obviously know of the labor camps into which people disappear without judiciary review, of torture inflicted by the personnel of state “security” organs, and of the treatment of Falun Gong, but choose to move on with our sterilized research and teaching. We ignore that China’s political system is responsible for 30 million dead from starvation in the Great Leap Forward, and 750,000 to 1.5 million murders during the Cultural Revolution. What can make Western academics stop and think twice about who they have bedded down with?

If academics don’t, who will? The World Bank and other international organizations won’t because they profit from dealing with China. Their banking relationship depends on amicable cooperation with the Party, and a de facto requirement of their research collaboration is that the final report and the public statements are acceptable to Party censors. The research departments of Western investment banks won’t because the banks’ other arms likely depend on business with China.

Does this all matter? Does it matter if China researchers ignore the political context in which they operate and the political constraints that shape their work? Does it matter if we present China to the West the way the Party leadership must like us to present China, providing narrow answers to our self-censored research questions and offering a sanitized picture of China’s political system?

The size of China’s economy will exceed that of the U.S., in purchasing power terms, by 2008 or 2009. China is a country with which Western economies are increasingly intertwined: A quarter of Chinese industry is foreign-owned and we depend on Chinese industry for cheap consumer goods. Ultimately, our pensions, invested in multinationals that increasingly produce in China, depend on the continued economic rise of China. But does the West understand that country and its rulers? At what point, and through what channels, will the Party leadership with its different views of human rights and the citizens’ rights affect our choices of political organization and political freedoms in the West (as it has affected academic research and teaching)? And to what extent are China researchers guilty of putting their own rice bowl before honest thinking and teaching?

April 2007
by Carsten A. Holz
Far Eastern Economic Review

Mr. Holz is an economist and professor in the social science division of the Hong Kong University of Science and Technology.

从事中国研究的学者都被收买了吗？

从事中国研究的学术界人士，包括本文作者自己，习惯性地讨好中共，有时自己明确意识到了，有时没有意识到。这么做的动机是为了适应生存环境，我们通过以下方式讨好中共：提出某些研究课题或者不提出某些研究课题，报告某些事实或者忽略某些事实，我们使用的语言，我们讲授什么以及如何讲授。

外国研究人员必须要和中国研究人员合作，以便搜集数据，合写研究论文。调查要以中共接受的方式进行，调查内容限制在政治上可以被中共接受的范围里。对中国研究人员来说，这种选择是与生俱来的。西方研究人员跟从这种选择。

中国研究人员在独自进行学术研究时也要面对同样的限制。一些西方的中国研究学者在中国有亲属。另外一些人在中国有公寓。那些母语不是汉语的中国研究学者，已经投入多年时间学习语言，把自己的事业建立在这一巨大而无法转移的投入之上。通过与中国的关系，我们获取信息和观点，从中得到利益，因而我们保护这种关系。如此一来，每个人都满意，西方读者得到学术界的最新观点，我们自己得到工作上的成功，中共得到我们为他们提供的广告宣传。中国是唯一的，全体知识界都选择了同一条路：那就是不要让中共不高兴。

如果我们不合作，很明显后果会是什么。我们没法找到中国的合作伙伴。当在中国做研究的时候，我们就遇到麻烦了。李少民是香港城市大学市场系副教授（Li Shaomin, associate professor in the marketing department of City University in Hong Kong），美国公民，他在中国监狱里被关了5个月，罪名是“危害国家安全”。按李少民自己的解释，他的罪过包括对中国的政治制度持批评态度，访问台湾，得到来自台湾的经费进行敏感政治题目的研究，在中国收集研究数据。香港城市大学没有对李少民提供任何支持，获得自由之后，他马上离开那里，来到美国弗吉尼亚Old Dominion大学任教（Old Dominion University in Virginia）。人们会猜测落在中共秘密警察手里5个月对人的心理会有什么影响，中共到底用了什么手段来让李少民保持沉默。对香港知识界来说，这个信号被清楚的接收到了。

不同学科从事中国研究的学者并不是都受到同等的影响。经济学家和政治学家比较容易频繁挑战中共的禁忌，有时还很激烈。但甚至社会学家和人种学家也会在进行网络研究或少数族裔文化研究的时候涉足禁区。

我们的自我审查（self-censorship）有多种形式。我们提出和西方有关的问题，而回避和中国有关的问题。我们努力用基本的经济学指标来解释国有企业的利润，而实际上从其它角度分析可能更说明问题，比如从企业管理质量（由中共组织部任命管理层），或者企业和所有者、雇员、供应商以及顾客打交道所凭借的政治关系。但是如何能收集到反映中共对国有或政府控制的企业的影响的系统化信息呢？企业里根本没人愿意谈论这类事情。

我们谈论中国的经济单位及其发展，好像谈论西方的经济单位一样。中央和地方大量“价格管制”的规章，给了官员们极大的权力来干预价格制定的过程。但是我们接收官方公布的数字，上面说90%的商品的交易价格是市场决定的。我们不对中文词“市场”（shichang）的定义表示疑问，而把它直接翻译成“市场”（market），假设它的意思和西方的market是一样的。

与此类似，我们接受中国的公司法（Company Law）表面宣称的、没有提及中国共产党的字面意思，尽管有了公司法，中共仍然会对公司发号施令。只有深入了解，人们才会发现不容置疑的证据：中共陕西省委和陕西省政府在2006年发出联合指示，明确要求国有企业（包括公司，companies）的党支部参与一切企业决策，这个指示还要求全省所有国有企业，董事会主席和党支部书记原则上应该是同一个人。在国家一层，最大的50家中央控制的国有企业，这些在世界各地投资的国有企业，它们的最高管理人由中共政治局直接任命。经济学家不去问问：如果美国或者欧洲的执政党中央不断增加对企业的参与，会意味著什么？

中国中央银行行长兼党委书记周小川，写了大量关于用“三个代表”“全面促进中央银行工作”的中文文章。他用完全违背西方的逻辑概念的方式，论述三个代表是“宏观经济的指导原则”。但是我们以对待西方中央银行行长的认真态度对待这个人，好像中国的中央银行真的制定货币政策，好像中国的货币政策的操作渠道，以及对经济的影响，和西方一样。

我们很幼稚吗？或者我们忽略中央银行行长的第二身份－－或者第一身份－－中共党委书记，是合适的？我们下意识的回避了某些我们不理解的事情？或者我们只是因为它们不符合西方经济学概念而假装看不见？

连篇累牍的文章探讨中国收入分化日渐增加的原因。我们忽略了这样一个事实：中国拥有一亿元（1千3百万美元）或更多个人财产的3,220个人里，2,932人是中共高干的子女。五个最重要的工业领域，金融，外贸，地产开发，大型工程和安全，85%到90%的核心职位控制在中共高干子女手里。

每次改革或调整的项目出台，高干都从中自肥：价格双轨体系，贷款黑洞，国有企业财产剥离，投资公司资金和私人养老资金的滥用。不合规则的农村土地并入城市应该可以被定义为地方官僚发动的“有系统的抢劫”。地方高官有大笔投资在安全没有保证的小煤矿，这些小煤矿理论上说应该关闭，但是没人知道为什么它们依然在运转。

经济信息的普遍匮乏决定了我们的研究。当前特定课题的统计数字，都是国家统计局按照中共中央委员会和国务院的特定指示收集的。这类信息基本不会公布。而那些公布的信息的质量都要打个大问号。官方统计数字之外，各级政府部门都收集并控制内部信息。公布的信息一般往往是宣传，出于某种隐秘的动机才加以发布。研究中国经济的经济学家采取的一个办法是，放弃进行精确的调查，而是在方便的假设基础上建立抽象的经济学模型：假设有完美的竞争，新技术带来最大利润，消费和金融限制之下的家计效用最大化（household utility maximization），等等。这种办法能在多大程度上反映真实的中国还很难说。

其他研究中国经济的人公开接受中共的青睐。我们可以运用关系联络政府高官。在做实地考察的时候我们会得到地方政府和地方党委的接待，有一次，他们给我提供了一辆车，一名高官和一个地方官。他们给我介绍了一个企业主管，可以想象，他的答案都是没有任何问题的。陪同人员毫无例外都很支持，但我最终完全在他们设计的盒子里工作（这大概是我唯一没有完成的研究项目）。更有甚者，那些采访官员的人可能不仅是无意中作了中共的工具，而且可能作了政府内斗的工具。

我们大量使用符合中共自我包装的形象的语言。难道“对法律和政府充满敌意的秘密社团”，不是对中共行动的隐秘性和置于法律之上的统治方式的准确描述吗？在Webster“新世界大学字典上”（Webster’s New World College Dictionary），这是“黑手党”（mafia）的定义。

我们使用中国“政府”这个名词，却不进一步说明95%的“政府高官”是中共党员，关键决策是这些人在党务工作会议上决定的，政府人事部和党委组织部实际上是同一套人员，监察部和中共纪律委员会实际上是同一套人员，中华人民共和国中央军事委员会和中国共产党中央军事委员会是100%同一套人员。中国政府是在管理中国？还是仅仅作为中共的一个器官执行中共的决定？通过使用“政府”这个词，让中国“政府”等同于其他政府、特别是西方政府是正确的做法吗？把它称为“有中国特色的政府”甚至“黑手党的前台代表”，是不是更加准确呢？谁质疑中共统治中国的合法性，以及中共的统治方式呢？

中共的－－或者说黑手党的－－名词充满我们的写作和授课。我们不去问中国共产党是不是共产主义者，人民代表大会是不是代表人民，人民解放军是解放还是压迫人民，或者法官们是不是都由中共任命并且服从中共。我们说“天安门事件”，与中共的语言相一致，而在1989年天安门大屠杀刚发生后，我们称之为“天安门大屠杀”，那时用“事件”来称呼让我们显得对中共太顺从。