This year marks the 50th anniversary of the Cultural Revolution, but little attention has been given to the commemoration of this major historical event in Chinese official or unofficial spheres.
The Cultural Revolution was a major turning point in the evolution of China’s state socialism from the Maoist era to the Reform period. As with other developing countries, China’s quest for modernization was immensely painful because of the compressed timescale and the intense endogenous and exogenous pressures for change.
Founded in 1949, the People’s Republic of China has distinguished itself in its extensive use of power to remodel politics, society, economy and culture. Neither a mere reproduction of the Soviet Union model nor a reincarnation of the Confucian empire, the Maoist state created numerous institutional mechanisms to impose strict top-down control over and surveillance of the population. It advanced socialist ideology and enforced oppressive policies at all levels, dominating political, socioeconomic and cultural domains in an unprecedented scale.
Yet, the Cultural Revolution that set out to activate popular radicalism and revolutionary fervor in support of Mao Zedong (毛澤東) against his political opponents almost brought down the communist regime. The state only survived by suppressing the popular outpourings that Mao had encouraged. Since then, communism as a belief system and a behavioral norm collapsed utterly, materialism and pragmatism prevailed under former Chinese president Deng Xiaoping (鄧小平) and his successors. From the 1980s onwards economic growth has become the only hope and desire among ordinary people, and thus the road to the Chinese Communist Party’s legitimacy.
Relying solely on the transformative power of a market economy and the stability of authoritarian rule, the communist leaders have introduced, adapted and manipulated specific tenets of capitalism, such as welcoming foreign investment, deregulating the labor market and building urban infrastructure, while maintaining strict control over government institutions, the military, public security, and people’s access to the Internet. Accompanying the nation’s remarkable economic growth are dictatorship and domestic conflicts, not liberalization and democratic transition.
Because of explosive grievances exacerbated by the state’s top-down development strategies and its reluctance to reform its autocratic rule, a 21st-century China that dismisses the historical lessons of the Cultural Revolution and denies equality and freedom is bound to push discontented groups to mobilize against the state. In this volatile situation, unprecedented growth only gave China a temporary reprieve, because the state is still trapped in a perceptual cycle of discontent and unrest.
Joseph Tse-Hei Lee is professor of history at Pace University in New York.
Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) caucus whip Fu Kun-chi (傅?萁) has caused havoc with his attempts to overturn the democratic and constitutional order in the legislature. If we look at this devolution from the context of a transition to democracy from authoritarianism in a culturally Chinese sense — that of zhonghua (中華) — then we are playing witness to a servile spirit from a millennia-old form of totalitarianism that is intent on damaging the nation’s hard-won democracy. This servile spirit is ingrained in Chinese culture. About a century ago, Chinese satirist and author Lu Xun (魯迅) saw through the servile nature of
In their New York Times bestseller How Democracies Die, Harvard political scientists Steven Levitsky and Daniel Ziblatt said that democracies today “may die at the hands not of generals but of elected leaders. Many government efforts to subvert democracy are ‘legal,’ in the sense that they are approved by the legislature or accepted by the courts. They may even be portrayed as efforts to improve democracy — making the judiciary more efficient, combating corruption, or cleaning up the electoral process.” Moreover, the two authors observe that those who denounce such legal threats to democracy are often “dismissed as exaggerating or
Monday was the 37th anniversary of former president Chiang Ching-kuo’s (蔣經國) death. Chiang — a son of former president Chiang Kai-shek (蔣介石), who had implemented party-state rule and martial law in Taiwan — has a complicated legacy. Whether one looks at his time in power in a positive or negative light depends very much on who they are, and what their relationship with the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) is. Although toward the end of his life Chiang Ching-kuo lifted martial law and steered Taiwan onto the path of democratization, these changes were forced upon him by internal and external pressures,
The Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) caucus in the Legislative Yuan has made an internal decision to freeze NT$1.8 billion (US$54.7 million) of the indigenous submarine project’s NT$2 billion budget. This means that up to 90 percent of the budget cannot be utilized. It would only be accessible if the legislature agrees to lift the freeze sometime in the future. However, for Taiwan to construct its own submarines, it must rely on foreign support for several key pieces of equipment and technology. These foreign supporters would also be forced to endure significant pressure, infiltration and influence from Beijing. In other words,