The show trial in China featuring Bo Xilai (薄熙來), the swaggering, media-savvy former Chinese Communist Party (CCP) secretary of Chongqing, veered anomalously into improvisation.
Before proceedings began, the conventional wisdom was that Bo’s trial had been carefully scripted and rehearsed to portray a forlorn and penitent sinner confessing his crimes and apologizing to the CCP.
However, the historic five-day trial dispelled any notion that Bo would go quietly to his cell in Beijing’s infamous Qincheng Prison, where China’s fallen top leaders are incarcerated. He challenged the prosecution vigorously, defending himself with a feistiness that surprised nearly all who read the transcripts released by the court in real time on the trial’s first day.
Bo dismissed one of his accusers as having “sold his soul.” He characterized testimony given by his wife, Gu Kailai (谷開來), now serving a suspended death sentence for murdering British businessman Neil Heywood in 2011, as “comical” and “fictional,” and he called her “crazy.”
Throughout the trial, Bo flatly denied most of the corruption charges, often professed ignorance of the facts and claimed to be unable to recall any details of the matters in question. He even retracted his confession to the CCP’s anti-graft agency, blaming mental stress for his admission that he accepted bribes from a man he called “soulless” in court.
In his closing statement, he dropped a bombshell: He claimed that Wang Lijun (王立軍), his former police chief and henchman (and a “vile character”), was secretly in love with his wife.
The trial transcripts create an impression of a man who, had he not gone into politics, would have excelled as a trial lawyer. Bo made the prosecution look sloppy and incompetent.
However, anyone who believes that the courtroom drama in the provincial capital of Jinan will determine the trial’s outcome (the verdict and sentence will be announced next month) is seriously mistaken.
The CCP’s leaders have already decided that Bo is guilty and must spend years in jail (the scale of Bo’s alleged bribe-taking ensures a sentence of 15 to 20 years).
A logical question to ask is why the CCP allowed an unprecedented degree of openness at the trial. The two most recently purged politburo members were tried in secret, as were Bo’s wife and his former police chief.
The optimistic view is that China’s new leadership wants to demonstrate its commitment to the rule of law and fairness. However, that is a naive interpretation. While the trial proceedings on the first day were refreshingly open by Chinese standards, that quickly changed. Transcripts were not released in real time on subsequent days, and they omitted some crucial details (for example, Bo claimed that CCP representatives threatened to execute his wife and prosecute his son if he refused to cooperate). Perhaps worried that Bo’s defiant behavior was winning the public relations battle, the official media also launched a blitz savaging Bo’s character and all but pronouncing him guilty.
Even more disturbing, on the second day of the trial, the Chinese police formally arrested Xu Zhiyong (徐濟永), a human rights lawyer who was leading a campaign to force mandatory disclosure of the wealth of senior officials and their family members. The Chinese government has also begun a ferocious crackdown on social media, arresting prominent activists on dubious charges.
So there must be a different — and more political — interpretation of the Chinese government’s handling of Bo’s trial.
It is worth recalling that purging him was a deeply divisive affair at the CCP’s highest levels. His patrons and allies could not save him, but they were well positioned to demand that his trial be conducted as openly as possible.
Given Bo’s gift for dazzling an audience, his allies must have felt confident that a spirited defense would serve him well, both legally and politically.
Bo certainly did not disappoint. He could have groveled his way through the trial, like other senior Party officials brought down by corruption scandals, and as most defendants have done in the long, grim history of communist show trials that began under former Soviet Union leader Joseph Stalin.
However, Bo apparently is not accepting his political demise as a final act — in his closing statement, he told the court that he wanted to resume his CCP membership (he was expelled) — and a comeback calculation may well have motivated his spirited performance. Bo understands that he should not be perceived as a pitiful loser who gutlessly besmirched his honor.
By appearing dignified, defiant and forceful, Bo evidently sought to preserve his image among his allies and supporters as a strong leader. Denouncing himself in order to gain leniency — in a case that he portrayed as a grievous miscarriage of justice — would have made him look like a coward.
Bo may be heading to jail, but he retains some chance of political rehabilitation should things change dramatically in China. His botched — but riveting — trial may be over, but the Bo Xilai show will go on.
Minxin Pei is a professor of government at Claremont McKenna College and a non-resident senior fellow at the German Marshall Fund of the US.
Copyright: Project Syndicate
With escalating US-China competition and mutual distrust, the trend of supply chain “friend shoring” in the wake of the COVID-19 pandemic and the fragmentation of the world into rival geopolitical blocs, many analysts and policymakers worry the world is retreating into a new cold war — a world of trade bifurcation, protectionism and deglobalization. The world is in a new cold war, said Robin Niblett, former director of the London-based think tank Chatham House. Niblett said he sees the US and China slowly reaching a modus vivendi, but it might take time. The two great powers appear to be “reversing carefully
As China steps up a campaign to diplomatically isolate and squeeze Taiwan, it has become more imperative than ever that Taipei play a greater role internationally with the support of the democratic world. To help safeguard its autonomous status, Taiwan needs to go beyond bolstering its defenses with weapons like anti-ship and anti-aircraft missiles. With the help of its international backers, it must also expand its diplomatic footprint globally. But are Taiwan’s foreign friends willing to translate their rhetoric into action by helping Taipei carve out more international space for itself? Beating back China’s effort to turn Taiwan into an international pariah
Typhoon Krathon made landfall in southwestern Taiwan last week, bringing strong winds, heavy rain and flooding, cutting power to more than 170,000 homes and water supply to more than 400,000 homes, and leading to more than 600 injuries and four deaths. Due to the typhoon, schools and offices across the nation were ordered to close for two to four days, stirring up familiar controversies over whether local governments’ decisions to call typhoon days were appropriate. The typhoon’s center made landfall in Kaohsiung’s Siaogang District (小港) at noon on Thursday, but it weakened into a tropical depression early on Friday, and its structure
Taiwan is facing multiple economic challenges due to internal and external pressures. Internal challenges include energy transition, upgrading industries, a declining birthrate and an aging population. External challenges are technology competition between the US and China, international supply chain restructuring and global economic uncertainty. All of these issues complicate Taiwan’s economic situation. Taiwan’s reliance on fossil fuel imports not only threatens the stability of energy supply, but also goes against the global trend of carbon reduction. The government should continue to promote renewable energy sources such as wind and solar power, as well as energy storage technology, to diversify energy supply. It