China's Harmonious Society

Niall Ferguson’s new documentary series charting the rise of China welcomes viewers to the nuances of a system which has delivered unprecedented growth over three decades, pulled millions from abject poverty and poses as a counterpoint to the West’s liberal capitalism. In the first instalment, Ferguson casts his gaze upon China’s social philosophy and sets about trying to answer some interesting questions: How has China managed to prevent the intricate patchwork of society fraying? Why does the authoritarian vein runs so deep in the nation’s cultural cosmos? How will China’s leaders continue to rein in dissent in the future?

For the first question, the narrator turns to the great Chinese thinker, Confucius, who concerned himself with the development of people and society. Confucius argued for a “harmonious society” which would cultivate altruism, righteousness and humanism – qualities he deemed crucial to self-improvement. This vision has been the cornerstone of China’s modern pursuit of economic development.

But why is social stability so important? When trust trumps suspicion, people of different factions are more likely to engage in cooperation, forge trade links, share knowledge and work towards mutual benefit, not mutual destruction. Stability suggests a unity around common goals. Resultantly, politicians can corral society into forgoing immediate consumption for investment and the prospect of higher living standards later. Finally, in a modern state, a calm and reliable environment encourages foreign firms to set up shop in China. This opens the door for China to enter new industries.

When Rio Tinto invests in a new mine in Eastern China, Chinese workers are taught the most efficient mining processes, are exposed to the best management practices, and develop links with financial colossals such as Goldman Sachs or J.P. Morgan. Local mining firms gain these insights when Chinese workers leave the foreign venture. Foreign investment induces this transfer of knowledge, raising the standards of home-grown businesses.

So, how do the Chinese pursue stability? Ferguson suggests that the authoritarian flavour to China’s politics has long been a pillar of social stability. The narrator looks back to over two millennia ago, during the Warring States Period, when China was carved up between many kings and warlords. Qin Shi Huang, who succeeded in unifying China in 221 BC, consolidated power by centralising decision-making and maintaining an iron grip on the activities of the underlying states. The Qin Dynasty, and those which followed, then oversaw a period of sustained economic prosperity. But the power scuffles continued, punctuating China’s history with spats of bloodied violence.


In a country periodically blighted by social unrest – the White Lotus Rebellion, the Taiping Rebellion and the Tiananmen Square Protests – leaders are well aware of the restlessness swelling beneath the surface. To that end, officials have enshrined social stability above individual freedom. China now boasts a population of over 1.3 billion people and 56 officially-recognised ethnic groups with innumerable subdivisions as well as countless unrecognised groups. More so than ever, China’s leaders pine for social harmony as they manage the precarious balancing act of economic growth and social development.

The supply of social housing has underpinned a host of policies aimed at reducing urban poverty and tempering activism. China has tapped into its massive supply of labour by increasing migration from the agriculture heartlands to the booming manufacture sites on the coast. Importantly, this migration is temporary; itinerant workers are expected to return home regularly. This halts the accumulation of shanty towns which may otherwise fan the flames of unrest. And where homelessness has concentrated, authorities have financed huge renovation schemes.


However, rougher seas lay ahead. In a recent article, The Economist highlighted that the number of protests in China, and their scale, has been growing. Moreover, China’s leaders are less adept at tackling the burgeoning technology-savvy population, who are increasingly turning to the internet to voice their concerns. The number of users at Weibo, China’s answer to Twitter, has exploded to 250 million. In the absence of a free press, the internet has become the prime source of news. Whereas the state could successfully keep a lid on social unrest in the past, word now spreads like wildfire on social networks; “local protests or scandals to which few would once have paid attention are now avidly discussed by weibo users”. As news of protests becomes more widespread, more people are likely to down tools and raise their placards, knowing that thousands of others share their worries.

Some voices are tentatively calling for greater individual freedoms. In a new book, Zhang Musheng - a retired official - has pushed the idea of slivers of political reform to “defuse mounting economic, social and political strains.”

Beijing is at a difficult junction: a large reshuffling of the party elite is pencilled in for later this year. China’s new leaders will be keen to address the resentment towards widening income inequality. However, anonymity makes supervising the internet an entirely different beast to the press. Netizens are largely free to bellow without fear of reprisals. Though, new legislation may force users signing up to online services to use their real name. But these measures won’t hinder the internet as the major vehicle for news.

The Party cannot fall on its old vices of manipulating the media. In fact, the changing circumstances may force officials to focus on real development - tackling the cause of unrest and not the news of unrest. Part-and-parcel of this will be greater political freedoms. China’s new leaders will face a fresh canvas. It will take great vision and courage to land that first radical stroke.

Sun, Jun 3, 2012  Permanent link
Categories: economics, China, Society, Confucius, Stability, Deng Xiaoping, Xi Jinping, Tiananmen, Niall Ferguson

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