Jottings from the Granite Studio

I’m going for an optimistic opening to this post. It’s part of a New Year’s Resolution to stop being so negative all the time. A wise old China Hand one time told me that the key to staying sane in the Middle Kingdom was a process he referred to as “thought conversion.” That is…anytime you feel the phrase “This place is F—–d” coming to the fore of your consciousness you replace it with “That’s just China!” I’ve been trying it out. Yesterday some idiot nearly ran me over with his BMW as I was crossing the bicycle lane, I smiled, said “That’s just China,” and then smacked his bumper with a bag of groceries. He slammed on the brakes, got out, and started approaching me menacingly, or rather, I think he meant to approach me menacingly until he realized I was about a foot taller and at least 9 stone heavier. He settled instead for a couple of choice words. I thanked him and smiled and repeated: “That’s just China!” I don’t think he got the joke.

I have a feeling that the people in Hong Kong this week might be having their own “That’s Just China” moment. The powers that be have decided that 2012 is too soon for democracy in Hong Kong and have instead postponed the date to directly elect its leader in 2017 and all Hong Kong lawmakers by 2020. I’m staying positive here…there’s going to be an election. The bad news? By the time universal suffrage is granted under the new plan, the actuarial tables suggest that about 15% of the current Hong Kong population will have gone to meet Marx.

Staying with the theme of “Optimism in ‘08″ it IS an election. Somewhat surprisingly, I guess, the announcement has gotten media attention here on the mainland under the cover of “One Country, Two Systems.” I do wonder though how the upwardly mobile in Shanghai and Beijing are feeling here: Hongkongese are qualified to vote but Shanghainese and Beijingers are not? Are the mainlanders missing the “think for ourselves” DNA strand? Possibly. I’m trying to stay optimistic…and if Hu Jintao tells me that full democracy is not suitable for the mainland then he must know what he’s talking about. I mean there are other countries where a group of nine appointed officials sit in a back room and decide who will be the Chief Executive heedless to the will of the people, why not China?

Ah well…Of the whole charade in Hong Kong, it’s the stalling that I love so much. Not 2012 but 2020. Seasonally apropos, it’s like when I, as a lad, would ask my Mom for a toy in August and she would reply “Wait until Christmas” in the hope that I would somehow forget my impulse in the intervening months. I suspect that this tactic is less useful on the adults of Hong Kong wishing a say in their leadership than it was for me in my quest for the newest Star Wars action figures. A quickie demonstration yesterday suggests this might be the case.

Not that this tactic hasn’t been tried before in China. In 1909, a year after the bang-bang deaths of the Guangxu Emperor (r. 1875-1908) and his auntie, the Empress Dowager Cixi (1835-1908), the Cixi-appointed regent, Prince Chun, was trying to hold together the Qing Empire with duct tape, bailing wire, and a five-year old monarch named Puyi. It was not going well. As part of last-ditch efforts to save the dynasty in the wake of the Boxer debacle, Cixi had allowed a series of reforms to proceed including an “Outline of a Constitution” (宪法大纲). This fascinating document proposed a constitutional monarchy…well, kind of. It was a constitutional monarchy in which all executive, legislative, judicial powers were held by the monarch and a national parliament would be convened to advise the emperor and to provide a big old rubber stamp for imperial edicts as handed down. (Sound familiar?) Also the “Outline of the Constitution” noted that the emperor was “sacred and inviolable and would continue to rule the empire in the unbroken line for ten thousand generations.” [1] The Magna Carta it was not.

Oh yes…and nothing would take place for nine years. So you see, the CCP is not above taking a page out of the Cixi playbook when necessary.

But back in 1909, with Cixi dead, some felt it safe to ‘accelerate’ the plan. Part of the outline called for provincial assemblies which convened later that year. The court, such as it was at this point, felt it might be good to have the provinces let some steam out of the boilers, but in the process the train started to roll with Prince Chun at the wheel in desperate search of a handbrake. By early 1910, provincial leaders and reformers were kicking up a fuss about the need for a national parliament. Prince Chun waffled then replaced that strategy with ‘wavering’ before firmly setting a course of ‘backtracking’ while eventually opting for a plan that called for ‘capitulation with Chinese characteristics.’ He announced that the period of constitutional preparation would be reduced from nine to six years. Wow–a national assembly by 1916–can’t imagine why that was a hard sell.

Of course within a year, Prince Chun was out of a job and the Qing had lost their empire. In fact, December 29 marks the 97th anniversary of Sun Yat-sen taking power as the first president of the Republic of China. After that things got messy in a hurry, but I’m trying to stay optimistic, I’ll save that story for another time.

Happy New Year.

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1 Immanuel C.Y. Hsü, The Rise of Modern China, 6th ed. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000), pp. 416-417.