A Death in the Lucky Holiday Hotel (44 page)

Deng’s words awoke Jiang, who did an about-face to promote Deng’s reform agenda and save his precarious political career. Starting in 1993, Jiang Zemin embraced capitalism with both arms. Jiang was an overnight convert to the pursuit of economic growth and the development of a socialist market economy—turning a centrally planned socialist economy into a government-regulated market economy became his trademark accomplishment. He even created the “Three Represents” formula, allowing Communist Party membership to capitalists.

Under Jiang and Premier Zhu Rongji, a vibrant middle class emerged. Though strictly speaking capitalists, the nouveau riche gradually became a formidable political and economic force able to influence government policies, and the Internet turned into an effective alternative to government-controlled media. More people were allowed to leave China and pursue their studies abroad and experience the West’s much-touted “freedom.”

Jiang Zemin and Zhu Rongji were considered pro-West. They grew up in the pre-Communist era and were well versed in Western science. Both experienced the horrors of Mao’s Cultural Revolution and saw the pressing need for China to embrace Western civilization, if not its “democratic” system. Jiang was frequently criticized for being image conscious, but his supporters argued that Jiang boosted China’s international status and image by orchestrating the country’s successful bids to join the World Trade Organization and to host the 2008 Summer Olympics.

Jiang and most of his contemporaries in the senior leadership team were technocrats, not creators, but implementers. They copied Deng’s economic reform agenda and carried it to the extreme. In the Mao era, people were fanned to frenzy by Mao’s revolutions and, under Jiang in the 1990s, the whole nation became obsessed with making money. Little else mattered. The government’s single-minded strategies of reforming state enterprise and stimulating growth led to the bankruptcies of thousands of state companies, leaving millions of workers unemployed. Public assets fell into the hands of a small group of well-connected entrepreneurs, some of whom were princelings. Unbridled capitalism under a totalitarian system spawned massive corruption
within the government and led to a moral vacuum as Communist beliefs collapsed. The widening gap between the rich and poor, and between the developed coastal region and the underdeveloped hinterland, caused widespread social discontent.

Jiang rejected calls by dissidents and party liberals to revisit the issues raised in Tiananmen Square in 1989—corruption and accountability within the party. However, many jailed dissidents and protesters were released and some were allowed to leave the country. There are those who argue that Jiang effectively used prodemocracy activists as hostages in exchange for Western support for the country’s other political initiatives, but often overlooked is that many party hardliners who played a prominent role in the bloody suppressions of June 1989 were quietly purged from the Jiang administration.

His relatively enlightened approach to the events of 1989 was canceled out by his persecution of practitioners of Falun Gong. Falun Gong, which claimed to have millions of adherents worldwide, alleged that thousands have died of torture during incarceration. It has gone so far as to allege that, in some cases, the government harvested their organs. Jiang has been portrayed by Falun Gong as an “evil enemy of the public,” and practitioners filed multiple lawsuits against Jiang and other senior leaders overseas.

In addition, Jiang adeptly employed the Central Commission for Discipline Inspection to consolidate power and eliminate his opponents under the guise of corruption. One example was Chen Xitong, the former party chief of Beijing, who reportedly obstructed Jiang’s policies with a group of like-minded officials known as the “Beijing clique.”

On April 5, 2005, when the deputy mayor of Beijing, a close friend of Chen Xitong, was found shot dead in what was determined to be a suicide near an official guest house after he received news that he would be investigated, Jiang used the shooting as an excuse to take action against Chen. In July 1995, Jiang ordered the Central Commission for Discipline Inspection to review Chen’s case and hand its findings to the court. In February 1998, Chen was officially arrested on charges of corruption and dereliction of duty. The Supreme People’s Court in Beijing sentenced Chen to sixteen years imprisonment. In the official verdict,
the scope of the crime was much smaller than previously reported. He was charged with accepting about US $80,000 worth of gifts from foreigners without declaring or turning it over to the government. Between 1990 and 1992, he used about US $4.2 million in municipal construction funds to build two villas in the suburbs of Beijing, allegedly as investments for the government. He and his friends simply brought their mistresses over for extended stays in the villas, spending US $40,000 on food and entertainment and service charges.

Overseas media concluded that the Chen Xitong’s case was politically motivated, an apparent scheme by Jiang to intimidate his political opponents and consolidate his power base. The fall of Chen led to the convictions of more officials inside the Beijing municipal government.

In the years after 1997, with the deaths of Deng Xiaoping and other revolutionary veterans, Jiang safely occupied the paramount leader’s seat and elevated many of his supporters from Shanghai to high positions within the party, the military, and the government to ensure his legacy was preserved and his family interests were protected.

At the time of his retirement in 2002, his followers even proposed creating a national security committee to institutionalize Jiang’s paramount position. In the end, Jiang reluctantly jettisoned the idea. He understood clearly that the Chinese people, including the 70 million Communist Party members, had long detested the bloody power struggles. People could no longer accept leaders with lifelong tenures. If Jiang dared to go against the current, the gigantic ship of the Communist Party—rotten and riddled with holes—was in danger of capsizing. Thus, Jiang stepped down, continuing the peaceful transition process started by Deng Xiaoping.

Since Jiang’s retirement, his name has never failed to appear at the top, right beneath Hu’s, at important events. Insiders know the name order is not merely ceremonial. There used to be a popular saying: “Deng Xiaoping’s power was felt by his mysterious absence, but Jiang Zemin reveals his power by his constant presence.” In 2006, when Hu Jintao ordered the detention of Chen Liangyu, the former party secretary of Shanghai and a Jiang protégé, many thought Chen’s downfall was part of a move by Hu to purge the party of Jiang supporters. It did not take long for analysts to realize that Chen’s arrest was at the behest
of Jiang Zemin, who felt betrayed by Chen, who allegedly had slighted members of Jiang’s family on numerous occasions. A team of investigators from the Central Commission for Discipline Inspection was stationed in Shanghai for months collecting and examining the evidence against Chen. In September 2006, Chen was dismissed for alleged corruption related to the misuse of money in Shanghai’s social security fund. The state media portrayed him as a corrupt official who had multiple mistresses. In April 2008, Chen was sentenced to eighteen years in prison on charges of dereliction of duty, abuse of power, and accepting bribes.

Such abuse of the power invested in the Central Commission for Discipline Inspection added to a sense of insecurity among the ruling elite. When Bo Xilai was detained for investigation, many people thought of Chen Xitong and Chen Liangyu: both men had headed large Chinese cities and both had been brought down by Jiang Zemin.

Jiang’s lingering power was also illustrated by his critical role in the choice of Hu Jintao as president.

In October 2007, when the Party Congress concluded, many political analysts were surprised to note that Xi Jinping, a princeling and party chief of Shanghai, was anointed heir apparent to the country’s top post, rather than President Hu Jintao’s favorite, Li Keqiang, the party chief of Liaoning province. As time went by, many behind-the-scenes negotiations were taking place, and the media found plenty of leaks. According to sources, Xi Jinping’s rise was the work of Jiang and his allies. As conditions for their retirement, several of Jiang’s allies forced Hu to compromise and accept Xi Jinping as the next party general secretary. Skeptics refused to believe the story until 2009, when Xi Jinping visited Germany and presented a special gift to German Chancellor Angela Merkel: a collection of Jiang Zemin’s writing.

Xi Jinping was not the only princeling who enjoyed the backing of Jiang Zemin. He was also said to have taken Bo Xilai under his wing early in Bo’s early career. Though unconfirmed, Bo Xilai’s father, one of the party veterans in the Deng era, secretly advised and helped Jiang in the early 1990s, when Deng Xiaoping’s confidence in Jiang wavered and he was contemplating whether to fire him; Jiang repaid the support at such a crucial time by helping Bo Xilai.

However, as time went by, Bo Xilai gradually lost favor with Jiang, who disliked his protégé’s deceptive personality and unabashed political ambitions. A friend of Jiang Zemin’s son shared the following story over dinner at a restaurant in Manhattan:

       
In the late 1990s, at the invitation of Mayor Bo Xilai, Jiang visited Dalian. In an effort to please Jiang, Bo Xilai put up many life-size posters of Jiang all over the city. However, the day after Jiang left, Bo had his staff members tear down all the Jiang posters. The news reportedly upset Jiang, who saw Bo as a mere sycophant. More important, Jiang was said to be shocked when he saw the two gigantic white marbled ornamental pillars in Dalian’s Xinhai Square—the pillars, symbols of the emperor’s imperial power, are only seen in front of Forbidden City in Tiananmen Square.

The Bo Xilai scandal turned into an unexpected opportunity for Jiang Zemin, who many had thought incapacitated by poor health. In April, when Bo was under investigation, the Politburo Standing Committee remained divided on how to approach the Bo issue and President Hu Jintao displayed his trademark hesitancy. Both the anti-Bo and pro-Bo factions looked to Jiang Zemin for guidance. The patriarch did not disappoint. He was one of the first veterans to speak out forcefully against Bo Xilai. His widely circulated words, “Bo has crossed the basic line of human civilization,” dealt a devastating blow to Bo’s supporters.

In April 2012, Jiang made more and more public appearances. He first met with the chief of the coffee chain Starbucks and then showed up at a musical at the National Center for Performing Arts. The state media carried a big photo and an enthusiastic description:

       
Jiang Zemin walked into the theater in big strides. He was glowing with health and radiating vigor. The audience gave the former president Jiang a long-lasting standing ovation.

The message was clear—Jiang was healthy and would play a critical role in the Bo Xilai case. He traveled to Beijing and met with senior
leaders within the party and the military to affirm support for the removal of Bo Xilai.

In September 2012, when President Hu Jintao’s chief of staff, Ling Jihua, was demoted, Jiang and his protégés jumped at the opportunity to purge Hu’s allies in the Politburo. Jiang and his designated successor, Xi Jinping, reshuffled the original lineup and successfully placed reliable allies in the Politburo Standing Committee, extending Jiang’s influence for another decade.

Although many political leaders become more conservative in retirement, Jiang seems to have done the opposite and adopted a more radical stance. Credible rumors suggest Jiang intends to protect his legacy by instructing his successors to implement political reform. In October, a close friend of the Jiang family quoted Jiang as warning the Politburo members at a small gathering that “if the Chinese Communist Party doesn’t initiate any political reforms, we could be toppled by a coup and end up tragically.” According to the same source, Jiang has repeatedly urged senior leaders in August to reverse the party’s position on the demands of the 1989 Tiananmen Square movement. “We can’t drag it on any longer. We need to have a plan to resolve this issue and approach the issue step by step,” he allegedly said.

There has been no confirmation of Jiang’s words, or of his intent, but this account shows how Jiang’s loyalists are attempting to boost his legacy as an open- and reform-minded leader. Like Emperor Kangxi, Jiang’s biggest contribution may well be his effort to afford a smooth path for Xi Jinping’s ascension, even if it means eliminating another princeling. By destroying Bo Xilai for good, Jiang not only helps Xi remove a visible challenger, but also deters potential challengers in the future.

I
T WAS SUPPOSED to be a winner’s celebration, the successful culmination of years of careful planning and sifting of candidates, but it felt more like a wake. On November 8, 2012, the much-anticipated 18th Chinese Communist Party Congress met in Beijing.
More than 2,200 delegates from across the country descended on the capital city for the quinquennial meeting to set new directions for the party and select the party’s new leaders. The event marked a happy ending to what the state media called a “golden age” under President Hu Jintao and the beginning of a new era.

To mark this festive occasion, party censors issued directives to TV and radio stations nationwide, urging them to broadcast laudatory pro-party programs and banning any songs that contained inauspicious messages or words. A musician in Beijing tweeted that a radio station had allegedly removed a well-known love song called “Love You to Death” off the air simply because of the word “death.”

However, at the opening ceremony, references to death reverberated inside the cavernous Great Hall of the People. First on the agenda, outgoing party General Secretary Hu Jintao asked delegates to observe a three-minute silence to pay tribute to deceased Communist founders such as Mao Zedong and Deng Xiaoping. The somber mood pervaded as Hu delivered, his face fixed in his signature stern expression, a one-hour-forty-minute speech, in which he issued a dire warning to his fellow party officials and made some gloomy allusions: