Rural Chinese begin tasting democracy 'lite'
Monkey Rock votes in a 'populist' and joins some 200,000 other villages electing their own officials.
Candidate Gao Zhi Li didn't need Democratic strategist James Carville. Facing skeptical voters, Mr. Gao, a tall ethnic Manchurian, did what any savvy Western politician might do: He ran as an outsider, a man of the people.Skip to next paragraph
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Gao's electorate, however, were about 550 stoic Chinese farmer-peasants, gathered outside in a freezing schoolyard to vote by secret ballot. Gao ran for village chief of Houshi (Monkey Rock) - an outcropping of frozen tundra in China's northeast Jilin Province, where the principal industry is corn and sugar beets. The power structure Gao wanted to avoid identifying with: the local Communist Party.
"You all know me, I'm one of you," Gao said from a podium, in what turned out to be the winning speech. "I will put farmers' interests first. I will not be corrupt."
China's villages now routinely experiment with a word that has only recently been spoken casually around steaming peasant hot pots - democracy. Partly, the estimated 830,000 village elections in China are an attempt by the central government in Beijing to adjust to land reforms of the 1980s. Partly, they are an attempt to stay a step ahead of the evolving sentiments and pressures brought by 900 million peasants who make up the bulk of China, and who have begun to shoulder a greater share of living costs - higher taxes and food costs, price rises on fertilizers, even new fees for those who want a higher education.
"Chinese have always worried about feelings in the countryside, and today there are more cases of instability," says a rural expert in Beijing. "The party needs to solve the authority problem. If they can keep 60 percent of the farmers happy, that will be positive."
Nor do elections mean the Communist Party is folding its tents in rural China. The popularly elected village council and chief exist in parallel with the local party structure. The village council has no power of the purse, or of police, and no real authority. About 80 percent of the village heads in Jilin, in fact, are also party members. (Party members make up 70 percent of elected village chiefs across China, officials say.)
Yet village councils do have a kind of populist influence, with peasants lobbying hard in the doorways of party officials for the building of roads, settling disputes, and other local management issues.
The Houshi elections, moreover, represent another step in a decade-long "democratization" of villages. In 1998 the National People's Congress in Beijing passed the Organic Law or "Stage of Further Development" for village elections - allowing for commonly recognized standards, including secret ballots, limited campaigning, and a 20-day nomination process that takes place outside the party. Today, the election process is moving up to larger towns (see related story below).
In Houshi, for example, Gao's main challenger was a former local party chief, Qin Ming Yan. Mr. Qin promised in his campaign speech to work closely with the village council, even if he lost the election. Qin, a majority ethnic Han Chinese, faced Gao, a minority Manchu - and felt he would win. Yet by 3 p.m., as votes were tallied amid humorous skits and loudspeakers blasting patriotic music, it was clear Qin would lose by a 60-plus vote landslide - and he began to mutter ever more loudly to those who would listen.