Tuesday, March 31, 2015

Olho mágico: Ser um defensor da teoria do colapso / Peephole: Being a collapsist

Na véspera da reunião da Assembleia Popular Nacional, em Março, a publicação de um artigo de opinião por um dos mais reputados especialistas em China contemporânea dos Estados Unidos, que previa o desmoronamento do poder comunista, criou uma convulsão em muitos círculos de observadores da China. Estava em causa o ‘timing’, naturalmente, já que antecedeu a ocasião em que o regime exibe a sua determinação e força e o artigo criava assim uma espécie de quiasmo cognitivo, tal como o meio de difusão: o Wall Street Journal (WSJ) é um diário com autoridade e construiu uma reputação de excelência no que diz respeito aos assuntos da China, e não apenas no sector financeiro. [...]


For the rest, see Ponto Final, March 27 2015

My original text in English:
On the eve of the convening of the National People’s Congress in March, the publication of an op-ed penned by one of the United States’ most prominent specialists of contemporary China and predicting the crumbling of communist rule in the near future created quite a stir among the many circles of China watchers. Timing was of the essence, of course, as this was prior to an occasion for the regime to showcase its determination and prowess and the article was thus somehow creating a cognitive chasm, and so was the channel: The Wall Street Journal (WSJ) is indeed an authoritative daily and has built a reputation of excellence when it comes to China matters, and not only in the financial sector.
Then the personality of the author added an extra layer of loudness in what was intended as an awakening call. David Shambaugh is a professor of political science at George Washington University, and benefits from a high degree of recognition both internationally and in China proper, and was even recently distinguished by a Chinese government think-tank as the second-most influential China expert in the United States. Moreover, Prof. Shambaugh is a regular invited guest to the Chinese Academy of Social Sciences and the Communist Party School in Beijing. One of his recent books, published in 2008, was indeed describing how the Party had taken “a number of ‘adaptive’ steps to legitimize, reinstitutionalize and save itself”, largely because of the lessons learnt from the demise of the Soviet Union and its neighboring lookalikes.
Indeed, Prof. Shambaugh does not belong to a well-established tradition of “collapsists” and he even warns in his WSJ’s essay that “predicting the demise of authoritarian regimes is a risky business.” Clearly, what he means by “risky” essentially involves the complete failure to observe and characterize an upcoming watershed—the fall of the Berlin Wall in 1989 or the Arab Spring uprisings of 2011—, to miss out on the obvious, even though he aptly recognizes that ever since “the regime’s near-death experience in Tiananmen Square in 1989, […] several seasoned Sinologists have risked their professional reputations by asserting that the collapse of CCP rule was inevitable.” The term “collapsist” is derived from the famous 2001 book by Gordon Chang, an American Lawyer, entitled The Coming Collapse of China, in which he argued that communist rule in China would disintegrate by 2011 because of state-sponsored economic inefficiencies and the incapacity of the regime to reform itself towards a more opened polity. Chang tried to convince his readership in 2011, at the occasion of a re-edition, that his prediction was wrong by only a year, but then he was again off the mark.
Prof. Shambaugh’s estimates are of course of a different nature and he purposely does not provide a precise time frame for what he calls “The Coming Chinese Crackup”. Yet, he delineates “five telling indications of the regime’s vulnerability and the party’s systemic weaknesses” that seem to have become ever more pressing since the rise to power of President Xi Jinping. First, there is the idea that the economic elites have lost confidence in the regime and “are ready to flee en masse if the system really begins to crumble.” Second, the government is believed to be insecure because of the multifaceted and severe crackdown that has affected civil society in its many guises — lawyers, journalists, scholars, bloggers, militants, etc. With confidence in oneself should comes tolerance of others. Third, the support of the regime is characterized as “simulated” or purely perfunctory, and thus slogans do not permeate the mind and heart of the cadres anymore. Fourth, the fight against corruption, even if Prof. Shambaugh’s fully acknowledges its unprecedented scope and depth, is a lost battle as it has to do with a systemic problem, and thus require the establishment of transparency mechanisms that suppose the institution of the rule of law. And finally fifth, the proposed economic reforms are failing to materialize to the full because their ambitious goals are challenging much too powerful and deeply entrenched interest groups.
In an interview given to the wonderful China matters blog of The New York Times, Sinosphere, Prof. Shambaugh further explains the motivations behind his article and somehow his disappointment at the reverse course observed after the fading away of Vice-president Zeng Qinghong in 2007. In fact, the stiffening of the regime does not date back to 2012, but rather to 2009, when what he calls the “Iron Quadrangle” — propaganda, internal security, the People’s Liberation Army and People’s Armed Police, state-owned enterprises — managed to convince President Hu Jintao that further crack down and control over society was a matter of survival for the Party.
There are of course limits — robust ones — to Prof. Shambaugh’s arguments. Geremie Barme, a great Australian observer of political culture in contemporary China, is absolutely right in remarking that “officials are always bored” and that “the leader’s works never sell” (I would add, willingly). He is equally right when he states “Xi's China is uglier, more repressive and narrow, yet it's more confident, more articulate and more focused than at any time since Mao Zedong.” Additionally, as remarked by an astute blogger well versed in Chinese politics, “the collapse of a political force does not necessarily mean the CCP’s collapse” and the Party is indeed “like an octopus with many arms, […] depending on its political objective at a given moment, it decides which arms must be tough and it keeps switching arms”. Yet, Prof. Shambaugh’s call resonate, and not because “the West” simply cannot see a political future beyond democracy, but rather because the systematic unforgiving repression of what is deemed “abnormal” or “dissenting” necessarily ends up as some form of new totalitarianism, and that, we know it collapses.

Friday, March 20, 2015

Kapok: Chui II and beyond

Now is the time when people like me get asked by journalists what to expect from the policy address to be delivered by the Chief Executive on March 23. Usually, this general policy speech and the subsequent details offered by the secretaries on their respective portfolios take place in November. The rationale of the timing has to do with the new session of the legislature having just started, in mid-October, and because the government’s budget for the coming fiscal year has to be discussed and voted upon. Mind you, Mr Chui did make an appearance in the Assembly last November to review the past year’s policies and “achievements”, and the budget for 2015 had already been passed on November 18 in plenary session with expected revenues of about MOP152 billion and spending of roughly MOP52 billion—of course, this will be revised and amended along the way. Yet, it is clear that despite the headlines about the sorry state of the economy — or “the new normal” — the government is going to spend “only” a third of its revenues. So why March? Easy: because of Chui II!
When this was announced in October by Mr Chui himself, I personally had great difficulties believing the stated logic: being sworn in in December for a new mandate, Mr Chui was arguing that he could only make announcements after that, and choosing a date late in March was a way to put the government’s work in line with the convening of the National People’s Congress and the Chinese People’s Political Consultative Conference — a bit debatable if one truly believes in the “two systems”, but makes sense within the new patriotic environment we’re in. Mr Chui had already done the same back in March 2010, but then he was taking over from Edmund Ho. Looking back at 2004, Mr Ho did not shy away from the November custom, and thus it is true that Ho II looked a lot like Ho I, but only worse, and not simply because of the Ao Man Long scandal. But why March 2015? Mr Chui had ran unopposed and had just been “re-elected” by 95% of his small circle of supporters. At the time, speculation was rife regarding possible changes in government, but only Francis Tam, Florinda Chan and, maybe, Lau Si Io were thought to be on their way out. Moreover, competence had nothing to do with it — except in the case of Mr Lau, if the construction industry is to be trusted — and changes were somehow believed to be rather cosmetic, rather like musical chairs. On the side of the “opposition”, the picture looked gloomy: the New Macau Association (ANM) had lost one seat in the Assembly the year before, losing their historic position as the highest vote getter in such elections, and ANM’s young Turks had just been branded “enemies of the state” for organizing a supposedly “illegal” referendum with close to 9,000 people openly advocating universal suffrage to elect the Chief Executive…
Then came the Umbrella Movement in Hong Kong, the open-speculations about a whole new government in Macao, the announcement of a total revamping of all but one senior official on December 2, and to crown it all the visit by Xi Jinping reminding Macao that diversification was not a slogan anymore and this for the sake of the whole country. Later on, newly appointed secretaries started to be more vocal, reaching out to a new range of stakeholders. Promises were made. Critical assessments were vented. Heads, at coordinator, deputy-director and director levels started to roll. Despite the gambling profit nosedive, social and community-connected issues finally topped the list of priorities. For me, there is no doubt that the massive demonstrations of May played a crucial role, especially because Macao is endowed with First World revenues and Third World services: in China, the authorities have read Tocqueville’s “L’Ancien régime et la revolution”! On the 23rd, we will hear about a more prospective 5-year vision and a more coherent and scientifically grounded form of governance. What will be missing though is a way for consultative bodies, special committees and the like, to become really meaningful.


Published in Macau Daily Times, March 20 2015

Tuesday, March 10, 2015

Olho mágico: O senhor Wong vai a Pequim / Peephole: Mr Wong goes to Beijing

O encontro anual em pleno daquilo a que nos referimos como as “duas reuniões” (兩會) é um momento importante da vida política da República Popular da China (RPC). Os media nacionais e regionais, incluindo também os nossos, de Macau, têm dedicado um número significativo de páginas a estes encontros. Tal não é apenas verdade para jornais como o Diário do Povo: a página de acesso da secção de notícias do Baidu, o motor de busca chinês dominante no qual acontecem quatro em cada cinco pesquisas feitas no Império do Meio, apresenta-se actualmente com um portal em vermelho vivo e clicável adornado de uma bandeira vermelha esvoaçante, nuvens brancas e a imagem evanescente da estrela vermelha em espiral que está no tecto interior do Grande Palácio do Povo. O título que se sobrepõe em dourado brilhante é simplesmente “Duas reuniões nacionais 2015” – não é algo que possamos imaginar o Google a fazer por ocasião das sessões do Congresso dos Estados Unidos.

O mais importante dos dois órgãos que tradicionalmente se reúnem em sessão plenária por menos de duas semanas na primeira metade de Março é a Assembleia Popular Nacional (APN). No papel – ou seja, na Constituição – a APN é o órgão mais elevado do poder do Estado. Pode rever a Constituição, aprovar e rever leis, ratificar e revogar tratados, aprovar o orçamento de Estado e planos para o desenvolvimento económico e social, eleger e afastar os principais dirigentes do Estado e do sector judiciário (incluindo o Presidente), e fiscalizar o trabalho do Conselho de Estado, da Presidência, da Comissão Militar Central, do Supremo Tribunal Popular e Suprema Procuradoria Popular. Porém, como nota Susan Lawrence, “a APN exerce muitos desses poderes apenas na forma”, e tal deve-se em primeiro lugar ao facto de competir à APN meramente dar aval a decisões já tomadas pelo Partido Comunista – daí o epíteto frequente de que é “uma assembleia-carimbo”. Além disso, o partido nomeia todos os candidatos à posição de delegado – há ainda assim sempre mais candidatos que assentos disponíveis – e mais de quatro quintos dos delegados são também dirigentes do Partido e do Estado.

Ainda que aqueles que detêm cargos no Estado, no sector judiciário e na Procuradoria estejam impedidos de estar no Comité Permanente da APN, o órgão de topo que efectivamente conduz os assuntos da APN e se reúne a cada dois meses, o presidente do Comité Permanente da APN – actualmente, Zhang Dejiang – é também membro do poderoso Comité Permanente do Partido, e o terceiro em hierarquia de um grupo de sete membros actuais, atrás do Presidente, Xi Jinping, e do primeiro-ministro, Li Keqiang. Xi foi “eleito” Presidente da República em Março de 2013, mas antes tinha já sido designado como Secretário-Geral do Partido, em Novembro de 2012, e uma vez que a China não valida o princípio de separação de poderes – a pedra angular dos sistemas políticos das regiões administrativas especiais de Macau e Hong Kong, apesar da preponderância do Executivo – Xi é também membro da APN, tal como o primeiro-ministro.

A Conferência Consultiva Política do Povo Chinês (CCPPC) é a outra instituição que actualmente se está a reunir em Pequim e a sua natureza é bastante diferente, tendo apenas uma “função consultiva”. Em conjunto com oito partidos políticos menores, a CCPPC e as suas versões locais são aquilo que permite aos líderes da RPC caracterizarem o seu sistema político como tendo por base “a cooperação multi-partidária e a consulta política dirigida pelo Partido Comunista Chinês” – uma ficção que tem sido mantida viva desde os primeiros dias da RPC. Mas não é pelo facto da CCPPC não ter poderes e a APN estar subjugada ao Partido que estas duas instituições não são “centros de poder” por direito próprio. Ao examinar – e, em última análise, aprovar – orçamentos, relatórios de agências governamentais, e nomeações, os delegados da APN têm a possibilidade de se absterem “marginalmente” e assim exibirem uma forma de “abordagem pluralista” quando decidem aprovar apenas por menos de 80 por cento o relatório do Supremo Tribunal Popular ou o orçamento do Ministério das Finanças. Além disso, não é de negligenciar o papel que os delegados têm na defesa de algumas questões de interesse, não sendo raro assistir a fortes posições a favor do desenvolvimento de reformas nos vários sectores, incluindo nos trabalhos específicos da APN. E, porque os membros da CCPPC vêm de diferentes sectores sociais e são sempre figuras destacadas dentro da comunidade, podem ser aventadas propostas inovadoras e progressistas com respeito a políticas públicas, ainda que, em última análise, o Partido não tenha qualquer obrigação de agir de acordo com as sugestões apresentadas.

Os 12 delegados da APN que representam Macau – de um total ligeiramente inferior a três mil – e os cerca de 40 membros de Macau na CCPPC (incluindo os que representam interesses nas áreas da economia, trabalho e segurança social) de um total um pouco superior a dois mil têm por conseguinte um papel importante no futuro da nossa região administrativa especial. Em linha com as “quatro expectativas” propaladas por Xi Jinping durante a sua visita em Dezembro último – governar de acordo com a lei, diversificar a economia para promover o desenvolvimento sustentável, construir fundações sólidas para a estabilidade e harmonia sociais, e fortalecer a educação dos jovens – várias das declarações e sugestões feitas pelos delegados de Macau têm alimentado de forma positiva uma visão para Macau, o que faz com que estas reuniões comecem a aparentar ser muito mais do que meras oportunidades convívio social –, e, segundo as “oito directivas”, os habituais banquetes ensopados em Maotai tiveram de passar a dimensões mais modestas. Porém, durante as reuniões plenárias e de grupos, as “três expectativas” de Zhang Dejiang, bem como a preocupação manifesta de Li Gang com o significado real das enormes manifestações de Maio último em Macau – tendo em mente o movimento Occupy Central de Hong Kong – servem para nos lembrar que os nossos delegados têm por missão cumprir a tarefa inequívoca de promover a integração de Macau na RPC – daí que o caminho de diversificação seja descrito nos termos da cooperação regional e haja o repetido instar do “fortalecimento do Estado”. Muitos dos delegados andam nisto há muitos anos e, lamentavelmente, parecem ter entendido a admoestação das autoridades centrais como a necessidade de um maior alinhamento com a linha do Partido. Mas deve a resposta ser meramente restritiva e defensiva, especialmente quando Pequim deseja que as regiões administrativas especiais se mantenham atraentes e inclusivas? Infelizmente, um número importante de personalidades que assumirão a responsabilidade de responder aos desafios próximos consiste nas mesmas pessoas que demonstraram bastante impermeabilidade ao ritmo rápido de mudanças que estão a moldar uma sociedade mais complexa.

Published in Ponto Final, March 10 2015

And the original in English:

The yearly convening in full attendance of what is referred to as the “two meetings” (兩會) is an important moment in the political life of the People’ Republic of China (PRC). National and regional media, including our own in Macao, are devoting a significant number of pages to the gatherings. And this is not only true for the like of the People’s Daily: the entry page of the news section of Baidu, the dominant Chinese search engine that tackles 4 searches out of 5 in the Middle Kingdom, is presently enclosed with a clickable bright red doorframe portal adorned on top by a floating red flag, white clouds and a fading image of the red star converging swirl-like ceiling of the Great Hall of the People, the overlapping title in bright gold being simply “2015 Two national meetings” — not something you can easily imagine Google doing when the American Congress is in session.
The most important of the two bodies traditionally gathering in plenary session for less than two weeks during the first part of March, is the National People’s Congress (NPC). On paper — meaning the Constitution — the NPC is the highest organ of state power. It can amend the constitution, enact and amend laws, ratify and abrogate treaties, approve the state budget and plans for national economic and social development, elect and impeach top officials (including the President) of the state and judiciary, and supervise the work of the State Council, the Presidency, the State Central Military Commission, the Supreme People’s Court, and the Supreme People’s Procuratorate. However, as pointed out by Susan Lawrence, “the NPC exercises many of those powers in name only”, and the main reason is to be found in the very fact that the NPC merely has to give the nod to decisions already taken by the Communist Party, hence the sticking characterization of a “rubber-stamp assembly”. Additionally, the Party nominates all candidates for positions as deputies — there are nevertheless always more candidates than seats available — and more than four fifths of the deputies are also Party or state officials.

Even though people who hold state, judicial, and procuratorial positions are barred from serving on the NPC Standing Committee, the top body that actually conducts the affairs of the NPC and convenes every two months, the chairman of the Standing Committee of the NPC — presently Zhang Dejiang — is also a member of the powerful Standing Committee of the Party, and third in rank out of only seven members today after the President, Xi Jinping, and the Premier, Li Keqiang. Mr Xi was “elected” President of the Republic back in March 2013, but he had been previously designated as the General Secretary of the Party in November 2012, and because China does not validate the principle of the separations of power — the cornerstone of both the Macao SAR and the Hong Kong SAR political systems, despite being Executive-led — Mr Xi is also a member of the NPC, and so is the Premier.

The Chinese People’s Political Consultative Conference (CPPCC) is the other institution currently congregating in Beijing and is quite different in nature, having only a “consultative role”. Together with the eight minor political parties, the CPPCC and its local versions are what allow the PRC’s leaders to characterize their own political system as being based on “multi-party cooperation and political consultation led by the Communist Party of China” — a fiction kept alive since the very first days of the PRC. But it is not because the CPPCC is toothless and the NPC subdued by the Party that these two institutions are not “centers of power” in their own right. While examining — and ultimately approving — budgets, agency reports, and personnel appointments, NPC deputies have the possibility to “marginally” abstained and thus display a form of “plural approach” when they decide to only support by less than 80% the Supreme People’s Court’s report or the Ministry of Finance’s budget report. Additionally, the “advocacy” aspect of the deputies’ role is not to be neglected, and it is not rare to see strong stands being taken in favor of further developments of reform in all sectors, including the specific workings of the NPC. And because CPPCC members come from all-walk of life and are always prominent figures of the community, innovative and forward thinking proposals pertaining to public policies can be aired, even though ultimately the Communist Party has absolutely no obligation to act upon those suggestions.

The 12 NPC deputies representing Macao — out of a bit less than 3,000 in total — and the close to 40 CPPCC members from Macao (including the ones representing economic, labor and social welfare interests) out of a bit more than 2,000 thus have an important role for the future of our SAR. In line with the “four hopes” aired by Xi Jinping during his visit in December — grounding governance in the law, diversifying the economy in order to promote sustainable development, building strong foundations for social harmony and stability, and strengthening the education of the youth — several of the reports and suggestions made by the Macao delegates have nourished very positively a vision for Macao, thus starting to make these gatherings to look much more than mere social networking occasions — and under the “eight directives”, the usual Maotai-spilled lavish feasts had to be scaled down. Yet, during plenary and small group meetings, Mr Zhang Dejiang’s own “three hopes” as well as Mr Li Gang’s openly expressed worry about the actual significance of last May’s huge demonstrations in Macao — with now Hong Kong’s Occupy Central movement in mind — are reminders that our delegates are entrusted with a unequivocal duty in carrying out further the integration of Macao into the PRC — hence the diversification path described in terms of regional cooperation and the oft repeated urge to “strengthen patriotic education”. Many of the delegates have been around for many years and seem to have regrettably understood the admonition made by the central authorities as further towing the Party line. But can the answer be only restrictive and defensive, especially if Beijing wants the SARs to remain both attractive and inclusive? Unfortunately, quite a number of personalities who will take the responsibility of harnessing coming challenges are also the ones who have proven themselves to be quite impervious to the fast pace of change shaping up a more complex society.

Friday, March 06, 2015

Kapok: Better Tomorrows

Schizophrenia seems to be a pathological feature of our modern time, and present-day Macau is no exception. On the one hand, gaming revenues have been taking an ever steeper dive for a continuous nine-month streak; on the other, the body of citizens appears to be unfazed by this fairly distressing situation – at least it would be distressing in any other part of the world – and still professes to be mainly and overly concerned by social and welfare issues in anticipation of the Chief Executive’s policy address of March 23. What is wrong with the people, some ask? Is it blindness? Are people too spoiled? Have they lost track of reality and become impervious to imminent danger because of recent (tremendous) successes? Or is it the confidence that they have in the government? Are the soothing words of Chui Sai On and Lionel Leong Vai Tak that powerful? Or is this unfazed reaction due to the casino tycoons’ take on the situation that everything is “according to expectations” and in line with the necessary “adjustment”, which seems to be the new fashionable buzz word accommodating the “new normal” formula for Macao? Could it be the situation itself – not as catastrophic as some would want it to be, but still more challenging than some would like it to be?

Let’s be honest, the results of a survey that was conducted by the Association of Macao New Vision (澳門新視角學會) about the concerns of the people and what they expect from the coming policy address came as a bit of a surprise. The ten most pressing issues, in order, are: First, a hastening of the construction of public housing; second, the strengthening of the supervision of bus services in order to solve traffic congestion issues; third, the extension of measures to control the real-estate market; and thereafter, in order, the acceleration of healthcare reform, measures to rein in inflation, controlling labor imports and protecting local employment, increasing social welfare spending, strengthening people’s training, improving education and (lastly!) promoting a diversification of the economy. When probed according to categories, people want public policies addressing social issues (72.4%), with economic policies coming a distant second (16.6%) and political and legal demands a very distant third (3.6%). As the survey was conducted in February, before the official announcement of the February plunge in gross gaming revenues (the worse drop in the past nine months), one could reasonably assume that the results could prove slightly different if the survey was to be conducted now.

Lionel Leong, being the Secretary for Economy and Finance, was the first one to react and downplay the flashing red numbers on March 3: What is characterized as a simple “decline” is said to be “in line with expectations” and a recovery – deemed not so miraculous – should occur “within one or two months.” The next day, it was Chui Sai On’s turn to comment, with the CE strongly insisting that the decline was not a threat to state capacity, and that sufficient fiscal reserve would allow the government to allocate public expenditure to welfare measures as budgeted (as if anybody doubted that, given the fact that Macao’s government is endowed with the equivalent of eight years of expenditure at constant spending, and that without even receiving any revenue). Then, of course, casino moguls, most of them in Beijing for the “two meetings” (兩會), commented that the “adjustment” was needed and that no sacrifice would be sufficient for making the dream of transforming Macao into a “world center” (for tourism and entertainment) and a “platform” (for cooperation, both regionally and with Portuguese-speaking countries) come true.

Ultimately, with an actual unemployment rate desperately locked at 1.7%, the prospect of some 20,000 new jobs created by Galaxy Phase II and Macau Studio City, and with the number of visitors having passed the 30-million threshold – why would the people worry that much about a few junkets closing down (there’s clearly too many of them anyway) and plummeting gaming revenues, when in this miserable month of February 2015 these are still roughly the same as the whole year of 2002? And then, it is very fine for Macao residents to have (on paper) the fourth-highest GDP per capita in the world, and yet only be endowed with public services that are not even a match for, let’s say, the capital city of Guangxi, Nanning. Confidence in the government, as shown in a Hong Kong University survey back in December, was in the doldrums, so it does not seem that much of a surprise that people would now trust the new team, which was ushered in two months ago, to take the right steps in addressing some very pressing issues.

Published in Macau Daily Times, March 6th 2015