We use cookies to distinguish you from other users and to provide you with a better experience on our websites. Close this message to accept cookies or find out how to manage your cookie settings.
To save content items to your account,
please confirm that you agree to abide by our usage policies.
If this is the first time you use this feature, you will be asked to authorise Cambridge Core to connect with your account.
Find out more about saving content to .
To save content items to your Kindle, first ensure [email protected]
is added to your Approved Personal Document E-mail List under your Personal Document Settings
on the Manage Your Content and Devices page of your Amazon account. Then enter the ‘name’ part
of your Kindle email address below.
Find out more about saving to your Kindle.
Note you can select to save to either the @free.kindle.com or @kindle.com variations.
‘@free.kindle.com’ emails are free but can only be saved to your device when it is connected to wi-fi.
‘@kindle.com’ emails can be delivered even when you are not connected to wi-fi, but note that service fees apply.
As an institutional effort to ensure the reliability and accuracy of the statistics collected across the country, the Chinese government enacted the Chinese Statistical Law in 1983. Its enforcement, however, remains a big problem as revealed by a series of nation-wide inspections (zhifa jiancha) carried out after 1985. In the 1989 inspection, for example, there were over 50,000 violations, and more than 60,000 in both the 1994 and the 1997 inspections.1 Such violations, mainly in the form of statistical manipulation, have reportedly occurred at various administrative levels from village to prefecture and even province. In 1998, for example, although the unexpected floods in China and the Asian financial crisis made it difficult for the Chinese government to achieve its pre-estimated growth rate, only one of the 31 principal administrative regions (Xinjiang) reported that it grew at a rate of 7.8 per cent (the national figure), whereas all the rest reported a growth rate of 8 per cent or more. While different ways of price calculation might be partially responsible for the discrepancies between national and provincial figures, “exaggerations about economic performance did exist in some regions.”
China's countryside has undergone tremendous changes in the last two decades, but the changes and the benefits that came with them were not distributed evenly. Rapid rural industrialization in the Eastern, coastal provinces under the aegis of the local developmental state dramatically improved the lives of villagers. In contrast, township and village enterprises (TVEs) and incomes grew much more slowly in the Central belt of provinces and still more slowly in the Western belt. Because agriculture was the major resource, rural governments had to rely on extraction of taxes and fees from the peasants in order to meet their expenses and to carry out developmental programmes. Here, predatory state agents imposed heavy financial burdens on the peasants. The result was a long festering crisis in the relations between peasants and the local state. Since the mid-1980s, the central authorities have been ordering their local agents to lighten the burdens of the peasants, yet the problem persists to the present. Why has it been so intractable?
In preparing for the resumption of sovereignty over Hong Kong, the Chinese government had to decide which individuals and groups would occupy the commanding heights of the post-colonial political landscape. During the colonial era, the British had sought to enhance their legitimacy in the absence of democracy through endorsement from representatives of the “business elite” (the families which owned the leading banking, commercial, industrial and real estate enterprises, together with the senior executives of major public companies and leading professionals). In return, this elite and its proxies were granted a privileged role in policy and law-making throughout most of British rule. Chinese officials responsible for managing the transition from British to Chinese rule proved equally eager to have this group's support, and well before 1997 China had replaced “the colonial bureaucracy as the political partner of the bourgeoisie” and was recruiting a majority of its new political establishment from the business elite.
While observers of China have always paid attention to the “base-level” administrative institutions and mass organizations created by the Communist party-state, urban Residents' Committees (RCs; jumin weiyuanhui) have received relatively little study in recent years. Though the RCs remain pervasive in most areas of most cities and engage the energies of millions of activists and volunteers, this neglect is understandable. During the Mao era, Western writing on neighbourhood organizations emphasized their role in helping to police and administer the harsh political order that gripped the cities. In the 1980s and 1990s, the authorities have yielded much greater space to a private sphere in which law-abiding individuals are relatively free from intrusion. Instruments of state penetration such as the RCs have seemed less worthy of analysis. They also lack the requisite autonomy to qualify as part of an emergent civil society, and moreover their limited progress in serving as a focus for democratic participation earns them much less international attention than their rural equivalents, the Villagers' Committees. They may even seem worthy of derision rather than study; merely mentioning the term juweihui often brings an amused smile to people's faces, as it connotes ageing, officious busy bodies poking into people's personal matters.
The post-Mao reform era in China has seen the demise of utopianism. Where once the rhetoric of an unfolding socialist utopia worked to spur on the masses in their subjugation to a national cause, since the 1980s the rhetoric has entailed varying degrees of hedonism with the proliferation of consumerism, individualism, self-reliance and personal responsibility devolved to the individual or family. This has produced Chinese worlds increasingly riven with anachronisms represented by the apparent contradictions of a “planned market” or “socialist market” economy. The realm of media production in the 1990s has found itself caught in the middle of this sphere of social and rhetorical contention, engendering its own contradictions. Indeed the contradictions exhibited there may be more exaggerated than elsewhere; most notably in how Party control of the media has continued alongside increasing pressures on media organizations to compete for readerships, audiences and advertisers on an open market. Characteristic of this situation has been the emergence of new forms of media populism.
Before the late 1980s, political parties were unknown phenomena in colonial Hong Kong. Since then measures of democratization initiated by the British in anticipation of their withdrawal in 1997 made available a portion of political power for public contest. The democratic reforms initiated by Chris Patten, the last colonial governor of Hong Kong, accelerated party formation and competition in the last few years of British rule.