Subtle art of being ‘No. 1’

As the death toll rose after the Sichuan earthquake last spring, three leaders of Southern California’s mainland Chinese community rushed to mobilize assistance.

Sue Zhang, a septuagenarian socialite whose father was a famed Communist Revolution-era general, helped organize a benefit concert at the San Gabriel Mission Playhouse.

John Chen, a onetime local government official in China who runs a furniture business in Ontario, led a candlelight vigil at an outdoor amphitheater in Monterey Park.

John Cheng, a soft-spoken maker of all-terrain vehicles and dirt bikes, announced fundraising drives in Chinese-language media.

All told, they helped raise more than $400,000. They also raised their own profiles.

Over the last few years, Zhang, Chen and Cheng have been at the center of polite jostling for who will emerge as “No. 1,” a title that has taken on almost mythic proportions in the Chinese community. It’s a mysterious and decidedly unofficial post that some describe as being an ambassador bridging the Chinese government with Chinese immigrants in America.

There’s no pay, much grief and no clear process for gaining the title. To be recognized as No. 1, a person must have strong ties to the communist government but also be seen as a leader in the mainland Chinese American community, where there is far from unanimous support for the homeland government.

Then there is the plight of the last two who were No. 1.

San Marino businesswoman and FBI informant Katrina Leung exited the scene after being accused of being a double agent for China in 2003.

At her peak, Leung was a Republican activist who enjoyed unrivaled access to China’s top leadership, claiming to have held 2,100 meetings with Chinese officials over 20 years. She helped arrange a meeting for former L.A. Mayor Richard Riordan and the Chinese president at the time, Jiang Zemin.

Before Leung, the No. 1 was said to be entrepreneur and newspaper owner Ted Sioeng, who became embroiled in a fundraising scandal linking Chinese money to the Democratic National Committee in the mid-1990s.

The stigma has taken a toll.

Zhang, Chen and Cheng said it was unfair to be compared to Leung and Sioeng. The three said their activities are cultural, not political, and they downplayed their ambitions to seize the role. The position of No. 1, they said, could use some distance from its controversial past.

“All the No. 1s have been disgraced,” Chen said. “Some are superstitious and say the position is bad luck.”

Yet there is much to be gained as well. Whoever gets the title becomes the lead contact for local and visiting Chinese officials. The new No. 1 can claim status in the overseas Chinese community, potentially boosting business ties and gaining entree into the upper reaches of the Chinese government.

“It will give you credibility when you do business in China,” said Daniel Deng, a prominent Chinese American attorney based in the San Gabriel Valley. “They roll out the red carpet for you. It’s something you can brag about, that you’re helping with overseas Chinese affairs. You’re like an underground mayor because the No. 1 has the most guanxi” -- connections.

Zhang, Chen and Cheng all have strong relationships with the Chinese Consulate in Los Angeles. Officials there say the three competitors are benign and girded by the desire to improve relations between China and the United States.

Xu Chaoyou, deputy consul general, said it was well known in the community that the three were battling for power.

“In Chinese tradition, someone always wants to be predominant,” he added. “Like in a family, someone needs to stand out. It takes time. People are watching.”

Xu said the three regularly invite consulate officials to their events and said his office plays no role in selecting the community’s leader.

“We don’t have the authority” to tell them what to do, he said. “They help us do our job better. I’m here to promote a better relationship with China and help people do business. If anyone wants to help us do that, we’ll let them.”

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At times, the three can appear to be allies, holding meetings together to organize events. But “they are fighting very hard,” said Richard Koo, a prominent accountant and old hand in the local Chinese community. “They have to show what they’re doing” for China.

Using news conferences, banquets and celebrations, Zhang and Chen have helped promote almost every significant event concerning China in recent years, including the return of Hong Kong to China in 1997 and the local community protesting Japan’s bid for a U.N. Security Council seat in 2005.

The competition among the three was sent into overdrive this year with a flurry of events starting with the Rose Parade, followed by the crisis in Tibet, the Olympic torch relay, protests against CNN, the Sichuan earthquake and finally the Olympic Games in August.

Of the three, Zhang has lived in the U.S. the longest, having moved from Beijing to San Jose in 1981 as a mechanical engineer. She moved to the Los Angeles area six years later, she said.

Over a pot of pu’er tea in the atrium of her West Covina home, the 73-year-old said her community activism has been reinvigorating. She considers herself lucky when she hears that schoolmates in China have long retired.

Zhang is the daughter of Gen. Zhang Zhizhong, a Nationalist leader during the Communist Revolution who tried to broker peace with Mao Tse-tung. He was considered a hero by the communists.

A large framed photograph of her father hangs in her dining room. In it, he stands at attention alongside U.S. Gen. George Marshall, Zhou Enlai and Mao.

Despite her connections, she sees her efforts as nothing more than giving back to a community that has been good to her.

“I do things for the public,” said Zhang, wearing tinted Dior glasses. “It’s not important to meet [Premier] Wen Jiabao or [President] Hu Jintao. What difference would it make? I met them already when I was young. I met Mao. Zhou Enlai sent flowers when I was married. He saw my baby when it was born. I was in that circle. I was already in that world. I don’t have anything to ask.”

Zhang is not shy about her leadership credentials. She heads the Roundtable of Southern California Chinese-American Organizations, which consists of 72 mainland Chinese associations representing various regions, cities, universities and industries.

The group sponsored the Rose Parade float last January. Zhang raised $400,000 for the entry -- $20,000 each from 10 Chinese American donors and $200,000 from Pasadena-based label maker Avery Dennison, which has offices and factories in China.

She has plans to place a float in the 2010 Rose Parade to celebrate the Shanghai World’s Fair.

Zhang said Chen and Cheng posed little competition.

“They cannot be compared to me,” she said. Chen and Cheng “think they are the leaders themselves. I don’t want conflict. I’ve been doing this for 10 years. But there’s no comparison.”

Asked if she considered herself No. 1, Zhang said, “You have to ask people if they agree.”

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Just don’t ask Cheng.

Sitting in a boardroom in his Montclair office, the 50-year-old native of China’s eastern Jiangsu province speaks softly and has a decidedly low-key, almost shy personality when compared to the brassy Zhang.

Cheng was reluctant at first to meet with a reporter, explaining that he was not fully invested in being the community’s top leader. He said his priority was lifting his business, NST Inc. Sales of his Chinese-produced all-terrain vehicles, dirt bikes, scooters and go-karts have been disappointing. The current economic climate has not helped.

It’s an important point, he said, because personal wealth is one of the keys to leadership. He hosts the annual Chinese National Day ceremony and banquet in Monterey Park for hundreds of guests, including members of the Chinese Consulate, footing the bill himself.

Still, Cheng said he doesn’t believe Zhang’s bloodlines and accomplishments offered her an edge.

“Mao and Deng [Xiaoping]: What are their daughters doing” now? asked Cheng, sitting in front of a giant logo for his organization, the Chinese American Federation. “A background is just a background. It doesn’t mean you’re a natural leader. . . . Because you do the Rose Parade float one year, you’re No. 1?”

He also said becoming leader of the community should be about more than connections to the Chinese government.

“I think Sue [Zhang] and John Chen think they’re the leaders,” Cheng said. “Some people think the leader should be appointed by the consul general. That’s not right. This is America. You need charisma to be a leader.”

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If Zhang is the insider and Cheng is the businessman, Chen seems to be the polished political leader.

Chen, 56, served as a top local government official in the northern city of Tianjin before moving to the United States to start his own business in the late 1980s.

He raised a family in the San Gabriel Valley and proudly talks about his conversion to Christianity. By 1997, he had asserted himself in the burgeoning mainland community.

“I am responsible for the Chinese community to a certain extent,” Chen said. “I told [a former] consul general that I would do anything that’s good for both countries. . . . China needs us as a bridge.”

Chen was involved in quake relief. He also organized protests against CNN commentator Jack Cafferty, who described some Chinese as “goons” and “thugs” for their behavior during the Olympic torch relay. CNN later said Cafferty was referring to China’s government, not its people.

Thousands of Chinese protested outside CNN offices in Hollywood in April. Chen stood on the back of a pickup truck parked on Sunset Boulevard and led chants as the crowd waved thousands of Chinese flags.

Chen retains an honorary title with the Chinese government as an overseas advisor. He and other advisors are invited to China every few years; the last time was in 2006, when they were asked to consult on the economy. He was given tickets to the Beijing Olympics by the Chinese Consulate, he said.

He said being No. 1 today doesn’t necessarily bring with it the easy access to business opportunities it once did, because China’s economy has matured. He speaks from experience, having gained the government’s help in a business dispute. About eight years ago, Chen said, the consulate helped pressure a manufacturer in China to return $600,000 owed to him after a dispute.

No one is quite sure when the campaign will end.

But Leung’s downfall definitely is casting a shadow. The government’s case against her eventually fell apart after it was discovered that one of the FBI’s lead investigators was having an affair with her. Leung pleaded guilty to lying about the relationship and filing a false income tax return but was not convicted of being a spy.

But the case was considered a major embarrassment in the local Chinese community, and Chen for one thinks all the candidates to replace her must proceed with caution.

“I realize this is all very sensitive,” he said.

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david.pierson@latimes.com