Corruption sows bitter seeds in countryside

Cao Jinqing is a professor of sociology in a Shanghai university, but his book reads more like William Cobbett's Rural Rides than an academic monograph. This shortened English-language edition is based on a field trip the author made to the inland agricultural province of Henan in the summer of 1996. As he travelled, he talked to cadres (officials) at county, township and village level, to teachers and to peasants. His report combines investigative journalism with observations on agriculture and living standards, a critique of the workings of local government, musings on the nature of modernisation and an analysis of rural China's future prospects.

Cao details the economic progress made. Even in this poor region, people can now feed and clothe themselves adequately. Many have even been able to build houses of brick and tile to replace the adobe huts of the past. But there is much discontent. The extent to which farming can offer improved living standards is limited by the small peasant economy, the land shortage (there is less than a fifth of an acre of arable land per person in many Henan villages), the low water table and the ever-increasing tax burden. At the same time, the villagers are affected by the consumerist values that have developed in the cities and more prosperous parts of the Chinese countryside. They discover how life is lived elsewhere from television and from the stories of returned migrant workers, and they understand how impoverished they are in comparison.

Local government development policies are often inept. When the price of apples is good, all villagers are encouraged to plant apple trees. A few years later, a glut of apples follows, the price drops and many peasants decide to fell their trees. This sort of pattern has been repeated elsewhere with mushroom growing, the production of rabbits for mohair, pearl cultivation and many other enterprises. An understanding of the interaction of supply and demand and of cost-accounting has been slow to develop in official culture.

The peasants' ability to acquire funds with which to diversify is limited by the burden of local government taxes. These can amount to as much as half of their annual agricultural income. Levies are often arbitrary and made more unjust by corruption. Cadres report inflated crop yields to make themselves appear effective to their superiors. The peasants then have to pay tax on what has been claimed rather than on the actual yield.

In one county, the peasants had been directed by the county party committee and the county government to plant tobacco and cotton. Most ignored the order or planted only token amounts because they knew that their climate and soil conditions were wrong. Yet they still had to pay cotton and tobacco levies as if they had grown them.

"Excess birth fees", imposed on those who have more than the one child permitted under birth planning policy, also weigh heavily. Cao talked to a village teacher on a salary of 170 yuan (£11.20) a month who had two sons and a daughter. He had been fined 10,000 yuan, payable over 12 years.

For local governments, these birth planning fines amount to significant sums - in one rural district as much as one third of the agricultural tax - but the policy also gives rise to high levels of corruption. Village cadres are often happy to ignore a surplus birth if they are paid enough, and for the peasant family, a bribe costs less than a fine.

Cao recognises that it is the system rather than individuals that must be held responsible for the corruption, overstaffing, nepotism and pocket-lining that he found everywhere. As one young man explained to him:

"Everybody now thinks that all officials are corrupt. So what's the point in being squeaky clean, since no one will believe you? It's getting the worst of both worlds." Cao argues that the problem can be solved only by making the cadres truly answerable to the peasants, but he is pessimistic about the prospects for this.

He believes that the importance of cultivating personal relationships and exchanging favours makes it impossible for democratic institutions introduced from outside to flourish.

He sees the small peasant mode of production as promoting a backward and narrow-minded outlook that is incompatible with entrepreneurship. Cao's critique of the peasant mentality can certainly be challenged. In some Chinese provinces, peasant entrepreneurship has been an important factor in the country's remarkable rates of economic growth.

But this is a thoughtful and courageous book. Cao has bravely exposed the dark underside of rural society in China and has promoted a debate about how things can be improved.

Delia Davin is emeritus professor of Chinese social studies, Leeds University.