Running outside the party in China – into resistance

That was music to the ears of Yao, who has been trying to get himself elected ever since China began experimenting with grass-roots elections in the 1980s. In 1998, he won a seat on his local People's Congress at his fifth attempt, only to lose a separate race in 2003, a victim of what he calls electoral fraud and intimidation.

This year, Yao set out to help elect more independent candidates in Wuhan, a city in central China. He figured that his electoral know-how and prominence as a former delegate would rally support for them. He was enthused by the revised law. "This is the first time that people can stand up publicly and say 'I'm running for the congress and I want to be elected,' " he says.

But that optimism quickly dissipated. Candidates were harassed by police and prevented from handing out flyers to voters. None of the 18 independent candidates were listed on the final ballots, and all failed to win seats in the congress. Yao didn't compete in Wuhan as he plans to run in another city later this year.

Activists complain that election officials routinely redraw districts to favor their candidates, who are Communist Party members and retired bureaucrats. Backroom deals during primaries – or "black boxes" in Chinese – mean that only approved names appear on the ballot. A last-minute write-in campaign garnered some votes for unapproved candidates, but not enough to win. "To be honest, this election was absurd, it's totally unfair," says Wang Guoqiang, one of the candidates on Yao's informal slate.

It's also dangerous: Wang Dingliang, another contender, was attacked in the street after he followed the car that election officials used to transport the ballot box. Three days later, he was still in the hospital being treated for internal injuries.

Yao and other independents say their primary motivation is to encourage citizens to participate in local politics. Campaign pledges are local, modest, and larded with legal citations for their right to run for office. "Give me a chance and I'll give you a totally different five years!" promises one candidate in a university district. "I will support poor students and create more summer vacation jobs."

As well as battling obstructive officials, candidates must overcome apathy among voters towards the assembly. In contrast, village elections in China, which began in the 1980s, have become more competitive and closely followed, as voters have a greater stake in the outcome.

"The [local] People's Congress is at a higher level, but the deputies are marginal to the social-economic lives of the voters.... If the congress can't play a role of checks and balances, then the elections will just be ceremonial," says Yawei Liu, a professor at Georgia Perimeter College in Atlanta who has observed grass-roots elections.

Mr. Xu says that being elected is a platform for activists to push for changes and use the media to highlight issues. As delegates, they can write letters to agencies and expect an answer, unlike regular citizens.

He believes that time is on his side, as a modernizing China struggles to find a balance between top-down dictates and popular representation.

"Society has changed greatly in the last 30 years. The economy has changed. But the government hasn't changed," he says.

Page: 1 | 2