China’s party proudly holds the line

Where does China stand at the end of a weeklong Communist Party congress that wrapped up Sunday, billed as the most important event on its political calendar? Pretty much where it started, which is just fine in the eyes of Chinese leaders.

In fact the biggest news of the meeting was revealed after it ended. Today, a lineup of top leaders confirmed weeks of speculation that the top two candidates to lead China after 2012 are Xi Jinping, the party secretary from Shanghai, and Li Keqiang, party secretary from the rust belt factory region of Liaoning province in the northeast..

Xi is associated with the “princeling” faction representing the sons and daughters of high-ranking officials while Li, reportedly President Hu Jintao’s preferred candidate and protege, draws his support from the Communist Youth League. Their placement on the dais suggest Xi could become China’s next president and party chief with Li assuming the lower position of premier.

Both also embody the rise to power of China’s so-called fifth generation of leaders since Mao Tse-tung, who are better educated -- Xi has a doctorate in law, Li has one in economics-- and often are as well versed in the markets as they are in Marxism.

At one level, political historians say, the party’s preference for uneventful grandeur reflects a centuries-old political culture wherein powerful leaders are supposed to be in absolute control, with open debate seen as a sign of weakness.

More fundamentally, Hu and his party face a political landscape in which definitive change in most directions threatens the party’s monopoly position.

That leaves the party advancing by inches, analysts say, caught between its secretive, authoritarian past and the growing calls by the country’s 1.3 billion nonvoting citizens for greater accountability and better government. Not surprisingly, the response has been to hold the line, stressing stability and harmony.

For insiders, the once-in-five-years congress produced important nuances as slogans were enshrined, provincial officials shuffled and policies reaffirmed. For many others, it was an exercise in gradualism.

Steps some experts see as essential to modernizing China’s creaky political system were postponed for another day. Structural change was not addressed because a separation of powers could undermine the party’s privileged position. Party ideology was not overhauled, given deep divisions between those favoring faster reforms and old-style Communists hoping to turn back the clock. Social justice and rule-of-law issues were sidelined amid fears that change could anger China’s powerful security apparatus and embolden the disenfranchised, who might coalesce into a political opposition.

With five years at the helm and another five to go, Hu, 64, has emerged as a careful, capable leader dealt a tough hand.

“After 30 years of gradual reform, the easy work is done,” said Wang Yukai, a professor at the National School of Administration in Beijing. “Now things are getting tougher.”

Hu’s tightening grip on the media, civic groups, dissidents and other “troublemakers” also suggests he’s not afraid to use his fist.

Taking a page from overseas counterparts who face general elections, Hu last week offered something for everyone: more military spending for conservatives, expanded social and environmental programs for the masses, cultural exports for the patriotic.

He even threw in a few warm and fuzzy phrases to soften the party’s austere image, including calls for more “compassionate care” and “psychological counseling” to ease social tension.

For Hu, the congress provided an opportunity to consolidate his power, bring lower-level party officials in line and enshrine his signature “harmonious society” and “scientific development” programs in party literature, securing his place in the pantheon of Communist leaders alongside Mao, Deng Xiaoping and Jiang Zemin.

His popular initiatives include slower, more broadly distributed economic growth and more emphasis on education, medical care, pensions and other welfare programs.

In closing remarks Sunday, made beneath an oversized hammer and sickle, Hu reaffirmed the party’s “basic line of taking economic development as the central task” and of building a “moderately prosperous society in all respects.” China has exceeded global expectations in the economic and diplomatic spheres and raised hundreds of millions of people from poverty, in the process becoming a model for other developing countries. Without political reform, however, some fear social tension and corruption could undermine many of its advances as national wealth is squandered on vanity projects and ill-gotten gains.

“We won’t win the battle against corruption as long as one person has the right to abuse his power,” said He Husheng, professor of party history at People’s University in Beijing. “Unless the system changes, I don’t think we’ll make a serious dent in the problem.”

Hu acknowledged in his work report last week the party’s long struggle with corruption, lazy cadres, opaque decision-making and inadequate checks and balances. But the way ahead, he said, lies with self-policing and “democracy with Chinese characteristics,” not Western-style elections or independent institutions that may limit party power.

Such “intra-party democracy” includes offering a few more candidates than positions in party-only voting, at different levels, and introducing some term limits “on a trial basis.”

“This is a small movement toward more transparency, which is a good start,” said Yawei Liu, China of the Carter Center in Atlanta. “The real test will be whether there is real change.”

Even some of the anointed appeared mystified by the process, however. Media reports suggested some of the 2,235 congress delegates weren’t sure how they were selected.

“I was told I had become a party delegate,” Gao Ling, world badminton champion and a Hubei province representative, told Hong Kong’s South China Morning Post. “They told me I won by a large margin.”

In a departure from previous congresses, Hu did not issue the customary reminder to Taiwan that the island risked force if it declared independence, and instead offered a peace agreement, albeit on condition that Taipei accept Chinese rule.

The initiative and slightly softer language are unlikely to lead anywhere, however, at least until after Taiwan’s 2008 presidential election. Taiwanese President Chen Shui-bian’s government immediately termed the offer a “treaty of surrender,” adding that peace is impossible with 900 Chinese missiles pointed in the island’s direction.

mark.magnier@latimes.com