Xiao Ercha lives in a tumbledown shanty beside a pigsty, thousands of kilometers and a world away from the awe-inspiring skyscrapers of Beijing and Shanghai. Tatty mosquito nets hang from the bamboo poles propping up its cracked asbestos roof, while kittens and chickens can be seen scuttling across the shack’s earthen floor.
When asked to name the leader of his nation, the second-largest economy on Earth, Xiao shook his head.
“Xi Jinping (習近平) who?” the 57-year-old farmer said. “I recognize his face from the television, but I do not know his name.”
That is about to change. For Xiao, who was born and raised in this tiny mountaintop hamlet near China’s southwestern borders with Myanmar and Laos, is one of millions of impoverished Chinese being relocated as part of an ambitious and politically charged push to “eradicate” extreme poverty in the world’s most populous nation.
Over the next three years Xi’s anti-poverty crusade — which the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) leader has declared one of the key themes of his second five-year term — will see millions of marginalized rural dwellers resettled in new, government-subsidized homes.
Some are being moved to distant urban housing estates, others just to slightly less remote or unforgiving rural locations. Other poverty-fighting tactics — including loans, promoting tourism and “pairing” impoverished families with local officials whose careers are tied to their plight — are also being used.
By 2020, Beijing hopes to have helped 30 million people rise above its official poverty line of about 6.16 yuan (US$0.95) a day, while simultaneously reinforcing the already considerable authority of Xi, now seen as China’s most powerful ruler since Mao Zedong (毛澤東).
China’s breathtaking economic ascent has helped hundreds of millions lift themselves from poverty since the 1980s, but in 2016 at least 5.7 percent of its rural population still lived in poverty, according to a recent UN report, with that number rising to as much as 10 percent in some western regions and 12 percent among some ethnic minorities.
A recent propaganda report claimed hitting the 2020 target would represent “a step against poverty unprecedented in human history.”
In his annual New Year address to the nation last week, Xi made a “solemn pledge” to win his war on want.
“Once made, a promise is as weighty as a thousand ounces of gold,” he said.
The wave of anti-poverty relocations — 9.81 million people are to be moved from 2016 to 2020 — are taking place across virtually the whole country, in 22 provinces. However, China’s western fringes, which still lag behind the prosperous east coast, are a particular focus.
Last year, Guizhou, China’s most deprived province, was aiming to move about 750,000 people to about 3,600 new locations. More than 1 million people were set to be moved in Gansu, Sichuan and Guangxi, while Yunnan Province hoped to move about 677,000 people to nearly 2,800 new villages.
One such community is Padangshang, an isolated hilltop hamlet in Yunnan’s Xishuangbanna Prefecture. Provincial officials describe Xishuangbanna, a tropical land of rolling, mist-shrouded hills and jaw-dropping amber sunsets, as one of four key anti-poverty battlefields.
Padangshang’s 143 residents — tea, nut and coffee farmers from the Hani ethnic minority — began moving to their new, bright-pink homes in early November last year after abandoning a nearby hilltop where access to water was difficult.
“We used to have to carry water up from the bottom of the hill. Now we have running water at home,” the community’s CCP chief, Liu Hengde, said during an interview in the lounge of his new home, which he had furnished with an L-shaped sofa and a flat-screen TV.
“The government is helping the ordinary folk lead a good life,” Liu, 30, added, before fastening a machete to the back of his navy-blue uniform and offering a tour of the newly built village to which 13 families had already moved.
“Xi Jinping always says that if we give the ordinary folk a better life, the whole country will be well off,” he said.
Relocated villagers gave Xi’s war on poverty — and their new two-story homes — their backing.
“When I was a boy I lived in a thick forest. There were insects and leeches everywhere. Transport was bad. The water supply was bad. The power supply was bad,” said Li Ade, a 30-year-old farmer. “These days, the Burmese [over the border] are living in the Mao era, while the lives of the Chinese people have improved.”
University of Melbourne academic Mark Wang, who studies Beijing’s use of resettlements to fight poverty, attributed Xi’s focus on the issue partly to the seven years he spent in the countryside during Mao’s Cultural Revolution.
Xi was born into China’s “red aristocracy” — the son of the revolutionary elder Xi Zhongxun (習仲勛) — but was exiled to the parched village of Liangjiahe in the 1960s after his father got on the wrong side of Mao.
Wang said that those years of rural hardship continue to shape Xi’s political priorities.
“From the bottom of his heart he knows the Chinese farmers. He understands what they want,” he said. “He even knows the dirty language the people use in the fields when they are farming.”
However, hard-nosed political calculations also explain Xi’s bid to paint himself as a champion of the poor — an effort undermined by a recent crackdown on migrants in Beijing, which has reportedly seen tens of thousands of poor workers forced from the capital.
“How can you make sure a billion people trust you and say: ‘This is our strong leader’?” Wang said, adding that one answer is waging war on poverty.
“This is something that will really make people say: ‘Oh, this is something new! At last somebody finally wants to fix this problem,’” he said.
The resettlements’ political function is unmissable in Padangshang, where posters of Xi visiting another of Yunnan’s ethnic minorities are plastered on virtually every new home.
“The government gave it to me. Every family got one,” 50-year-old builder Xiao Ziluo said, as he showed off his, which bore the slogan: “Build a Chinese dream with one heart.”
Experts question Beijing’s definition of poverty — the World Bank defines it as someone who lives on less than US$1.90 a day — and whether permanently vanquishing poverty is a realistic goal in such a short period. Others believe more emphasis should be placed on fighting urban deprivation.
However, Xiao declared himself a fan of his poverty-fighting president: “He is the chairman of China. That is why he is good.”
“He is the best,” Liu concurred.
Wang said he doubts Beijing would manage to completely defeat poverty in so short a time. However, given Xi’s daunting political stature, his decision to make the campaign a top political priority — and to make CCP cadres individually responsible for the plight of poor families in their areas — would have bureaucrats across the country scrambling to succeed.
“Every day local officials are thinking: ‘2020 is coming! Oh my god!’” he said.
The resettlements are the latest chapter in a decades-old Chinese tradition of moving people.
Countless millions have been asked — or ordered — to make way for major nation-building infrastructure projects such as the Three Gorges Dam, which displaced about 1.5 million, and the South-North water diversion, which dislodged at least 345,000.
Development-related relocations have proved highly controversial, with villagers often forced out with little, if any, help or compensation.
Wang said that poverty-related relocations, while not uncomplicated, are generally “the most friendly,” with those moved mostly allowed to hang on to their old homes and farmlands for a period of time.
“[With] all other resettlements they need something from you: ‘I need your land. I need you to move so I can build a reservoir. I need to convert your land into an industrial or urban [zone].’ For poverty alleviation resettlement the government does not want anything,” Wang added.
That might be overly generous.
Xiao Ercha, however, is thrilled with his new concrete-floored home, even if, lacking the funds to furnish it, he has yet to move in.
“It is good, good, good!” said the farmer, who estimated his annual income at about 1,935 yuan, as he walked up to the second-floor balcony of his recently completed abode, which boasts spectacular views over the surrounding countryside.
“I have never seen a house like this before,” he said.
Additional reporting by Wang Zhen
Because much of what former US president Donald Trump says is unhinged and histrionic, it is tempting to dismiss all of it as bunk. Yet the potential future president has a populist knack for sounding alarums that resonate with the zeitgeist — for example, with growing anxiety about World War III and nuclear Armageddon. “We’re a failing nation,” Trump ranted during his US presidential debate against US Vice President Kamala Harris in one particularly meandering answer (the one that also recycled urban myths about immigrants eating cats). “And what, what’s going on here, you’re going to end up in World War
Earlier this month in Newsweek, President William Lai (賴清德) challenged the People’s Republic of China (PRC) to retake the territories lost to Russia in the 19th century rather than invade Taiwan. He stated: “If it is for the sake of territorial integrity, why doesn’t [the PRC] take back the lands occupied by Russia that were signed over in the treaty of Aigun?” This was a brilliant political move to finally state openly what many Chinese in both China and Taiwan have long been thinking about the lost territories in the Russian far east: The Russian far east should be “theirs.” Granted, Lai issued
On Tuesday, President William Lai (賴清德) met with a delegation from the Hoover Institution, a think tank based at Stanford University in California, to discuss strengthening US-Taiwan relations and enhancing peace and stability in the region. The delegation was led by James Ellis Jr, co-chair of the institution’s Taiwan in the Indo-Pacific Region project and former commander of the US Strategic Command. It also included former Australian minister for foreign affairs Marise Payne, influential US academics and other former policymakers. Think tank diplomacy is an important component of Taiwan’s efforts to maintain high-level dialogue with other nations with which it does
On Sept. 2, Elbridge Colby, former deputy assistant secretary of defense for strategy and force development, wrote an article for the Wall Street Journal called “The US and Taiwan Must Change Course” that defends his position that the US and Taiwan are not doing enough to deter the People’s Republic of China (PRC) from taking Taiwan. Colby is correct, of course: the US and Taiwan need to do a lot more or the PRC will invade Taiwan like Russia did against Ukraine. The US and Taiwan have failed to prepare properly to deter war. The blame must fall on politicians and policymakers