Socialist Rule of Law with Chinese Characteristics

Recently, I came across two assertions, peddled by Western liberal scholars who should know better:

1) China does not have ‘rule of law’, but only ‘rule by law’. The implication is that law is a tool or weapon of governance, and that the government itself is not subject to the law.

2) Since Xi Jinping became chairman, China has experienced an unremitting pattern of ‘authoritarian repression’. Governmental corruption, foreigners working under false pretences, unregistered educational institutions, illegal religious gatherings, malicious social media, shadow banking, prostitution – these and much more have all felt the sting. To use a metaphor used by Xi himself, it is like a hot chili dish: many have been sweating under the pressure of scrutiny.

But it is rarely asked what lies behind such a move. Is it simply because the determined Chinese government is by nature ‘authoritarian’, as Western European political terminology likes to characterise communism? Is it due to the trawling out of old Cold War rhetoric, since global communism is once more a threat to the fragile liberal ‘world order’? Or is it because Xi Jinping is simply an old-style Leninist hard man? The speculation could go on, but it routinely misses the mark.

Instead, we need to focus on the development of a socialist rule of law in China. This task entails engaging with the careful scholarship and often complex legal arguments that elaborate on the question of rule of law. While there is a plethora of such scholarship in China, I would like to focus on two recent and detailed studies: He Qinhua and Qi Kaiyue, ‘Rule by Law Becomes Rule of Law: The Constitutional Amendment Promotes Construction of a Socialist Rule of Law’ (2018); Chen Youwu and Li Buyun, ‘Forty Years of the Theory of Rule of Law in China: Development, Innovation and Prospects’ (2018). Both articles use the framework of historical development, especially over the four decades of the reform and opening up, but in the process they provide careful assessments of the debates over key legal terms and the overall framework of the construction of socialism.

Key Terms

On the 11th of March, 2018, at the thirteenth National People’s Congress, the preamble to the Chinese Constitution was amended from ‘improve the socialist legal system’ to ‘improve the socialist rule of law’. The change was only in the final character of the phrase, from 制 to 治 – although they have exactly the same pronunciation: zhì. The amendment may seem simple enough, but – as might be expected – it has a long history and entails careful differences in meaning. The following is an effort to explain, as clearly as possible, what it means.

Let me begin by identifying the main terms used in debates and government policies.

Fazhi (法制): This term is a two-character abbreviation of falü zhidu (法律制度), which has the meaning of ‘legal system’, although it is occasionally translated as ‘rule by law’. The term designates the various institutions that comprise the whole system of law in a country.

Fazhi (法治): Rule of law, with the sense that the law (fa)[1] rules or governs. In this case, zhi (治) has the senses of administer (guanli) and govern (zhili). This formulation raises the law from being one component of a larger whole to being a determining framework for the whole.

Renzhi (人治): This is the ‘rule of human beings’, and is the opposite of ‘rule of law’.

Yifazhiguo (依法治国): The most common phrase of all, with the meaning of ‘governing the country according to law’. The character yi (依) has the senses of ‘depend on’, ‘comply with’, and thus ‘in accordance with’. In many respects, ‘governing the country according to law’ is the practical reality of ‘rule of law’.

Shehuizhuyi fazhi (社会主义法治): ‘Socialist rule of law’, in clear distinction from a capitalist and ‘Western’ rule of law.

Legal System (Rule by Law) and Rule of Law

Let us focus initially on the relationship between ‘legal system’ and ‘rule of law’, especially in light of the constitutional amendment of 2018 (He and Qi 2018, 7-8).

From ancient usage to the multi-volume Cihai dictionary,[2] ‘legal system’ appears with two overlapping senses: a static meaning with reference to the existing laws and regulations of a country; a dynamic sense, which includes formulating legislation, revision, enforcement and supervision.[3] Further, a legal system is one system among others, comparable to the economic, political and cultural systems of a country. All of these are systematic components of a larger whole. Obviously, the term is in its basic sense quite neutral: every country has its legal system, in both static and dynamic dimensions.

As for ‘rule of law’ (fazhi), the modern Chinese meaning has three influences. The first is from the Western liberal tradition’s notion of ‘rule of law’. Chinese scholars are more than willing to acknowledge this influence, especially its role in spurring the development of a distinct Chinese approach. At the same time, they are also very clear that the concept should not be appropriated in its full liberal sense, in which rule of law has been developed within a capitalist framework in order to bolster bourgeois democracy and the sacrosanct private individual. Instead, it has – like Marxism – been ‘sinified’ (zhongguohua). Thus – secondly – a common move is to go back to classical texts to locate usages of fazhi. We need to be very careful here, since ancient usages of fazhi do not have the modern sense of ‘rule of law’. Instead, the basic position is that if standards, regulations, and thereby the law is the underlying basis and is systematically enforced, a country’s governance will be stable and strong; if not, the result will be chaos.[4] Intriguingly, it was the oft-maligned ‘Legalists’ (fajia)[5] who proposed that ‘strong governance arises from standards and the law’ (zheng qiang shengyu fa), and that governance should work ‘according to law as the basis’ (yifaweiben) (He and Qi 2018, 7).

Third – and most importantly – is the Marxist tradition. This is where the ‘socialist rule of law comes into play. As Chen and Li (2018, 73) observe, there is a fundamental difference between ‘socialist rule of law with Chinese characteristics’ and the rule of law found in Western liberal traditions. How? China follows the socialist road, which entails Marxist jurisprudence, takes account of China’s concrete conditions, and embodies the will the Communist Party and the people.

In light of this brief exposition, it remains unclear why there was a distinct shift in the constitutional amendment of 2018, from ‘legal system’ to ‘rule of law’. On initial appearances, there appears to be relatively little conflict between the two terms, for they demarcate distinct realms. A legal system has both static and dynamic senses, and it is one among a number other systems in any country. Rule of law is different, for it frames not only the nature of the legal system but also the other systems in question.

Rule of Law versus Rule by Human Beings

At this point, another crucial distinction needs to come into play: between rule of law and rule of human beings (renzhi 人治). As Chen and Li point out (2018, 67-68), this opposition was the real impetus for emphasising the rule of law.[6]

On this matter, the debates from 1978 to 1997 are instructive. They may be divided into three positions: 1) Laws are made human beings and carried out by human beings, which in a Marxist framework entails the proletariat, Communist Party and people. It follows – so the argument went – that all a country needs is a legal system developed by human beings; it does not need rule of law; 2) The opposition between ‘rule of law’ and ‘rule of human beings’ is a false one, for a country requires both; 3) The superiority of the rule of law over the rule of human beings. Thus, the rule of human beings risks emphasising that it matters not whether the law is good or bad, but rather that the ruler is wise and virtuous (sheng zhu xian jun). By contrast, the rule of law is inseparable from socialist democracy: socialist democracy is the basis of rule of law and rule of law is the guarantee of socialist democracy.

The third position came to be accepted by the end of the 1990s, for the following reasons. To begin with, one can see a certain influence of ‘rule of human beings’ on the ‘legal system’. In its proper usage, ‘legal system’ is a neutral term – as we have seen earlier – but when connected with the ‘rule of human beings’ it may become ‘rule by law’, in which the law becomes an instrument of rule. In fact, it was precisely this influence that led to the alternative translation of ‘legal system’ (法制) as ‘rule by law’. The catch is that such a translation may be misleadingly ambiguous in English: on the one hand, it can mean ‘rule according to law’; on the other hand, it may suggest ‘by means of’, with law as a tool of governance, deployed by those in power as they see fit.

This connection facilitated a greater emphasis on rule of law, and thus the shift from ‘legal system’ – now understood as ‘rule by law’ – to ‘rule of law’. At the same time, there continue efforts to ensure that ‘legal system’ remains uncontaminated by ‘rule of human beings’. This approach is especially evident in the study by He and Qi: after delineating the different positions concerning ‘legal system’ and ‘rule of law’,[7] they argue that one must maintain distinct senses for both terms but also maintain their mutual viability. They are distinct entities but they operate in a fruitful dialectical relationship: the legal system requires rule of law to enable its improvement; at the same time, rule of law is meaningless without a legal system in which rule of law can be embodied. In other words, the legal system is the basis of the rule of law, but rule of law constitutes the goal and value of the legal system (He and Qi 2018, 11).

Further, we may identify a distinct historical reference (recent and ancient), which is embodied in the observation that the ‘rule of human beings’ brings eguo – evil fruit or results (He and Qi 2018, 14). The more recent reference is to the trauma of the Great Proletarian Cultural Revolution, in which Mao Zedong – through the ‘cult of personality’ – was raised to a whole new level as the leader who would keep matters on the right path against all those who would ‘deviate’. This is clearly the allusion in Deng Xiaoping’s observation in 1986: ‘Through the reform, we intend to straighten out the relationship between the rule of law (法治) and the rule of man (人制)’ (Deng 1986, 176-77). The twist is that during the Cultural Revolution Mao unwittingly embodied the ancient Confucian sage-king, whose virtuous will would ensure that all was good irrespective of whatever laws were in place. And this is the more ancient register of this point, for there is a tendency in Confucianism is to elevate the ‘rule of human beings’ above the ‘rule of law’ – as long as the human beings in question were rulers who embodied virtue. After the Cultural Revolution, the response has been to emphasise more and more that the rule of law requires human rationality, legal principles that are conducive to the maintenance of legal authority, and the need to protect human rights for the sake of a good and orderly society (He and Qi 2018, 8).[8]

Governing the Country According to Law

Finally, we come to the practical implications of all this complex legal debate. The practical dimension is embodied in the phrase, ‘governing the country according to law’ (yifazhiguo). In other words, this phrase indicates the connection between theory and practice: the development of the theory of rule of law is inescapably related to the practice of governing the country according to law. ‘Governing the country according to law’ is particularly favoured by Chen and Li – not least because it is a preferred designation by Xi Jinping – and they connect its development closely with the four decades of the reform and opening up (gaige kaifang). They identify (2018, 65-67) three main stages in its development:

1) 1978-1996, the early stage of fermentation, in which rule of law begins to appear as a term, in opposition to the rule of human beings.

2) 1997-2011, the gradual formation of the rule of law, with the landmark identification in September of 1997, at the fifteenth national congress of the CPC, that connected ‘governing the country according to law’ and building a – literally – ‘socialist rule of law country’. This phrase was incorporated in the Constitution in 1999.

3) 2012 to the present, which entails the development in all respects of both practice and theory. This period is based on the principle (from 2012) that ‘the rule of law is the fundamental way of ruling the country’. This principle was elaborated further at subsequent congresses and in statements by Xi Jinping.

This is all very well, but what does it mean in practice? The key term here is ‘in all respects’ or ‘in an all-round way’ (quanmian). At this point it is best to quote Xi Jinping, from his lengthy report to the nineteenth congress of the CPC in2017: ‘We must promote the rule of law and work to ensure sound lawmaking, strict law enforcement, impartial administration of justice, and the observance of law by everyone’. He added that the law must be ‘enforced in a strict, procedure-based, impartial, and non-abusive way’ (Xi 2017b, 35; 2017a, 16).

Simply put, it means that everyone in China – whether citizens or foreigners – are subject to the observance of the law. The socialist rule of law applies to all, from the highest official in the Politburo, through the common person working hard for the advancement of China, to any foreigner who happens to be in China for whatever reason.

To return to the (deliberately) misconstrued point with which I began: it is not that Xi Jinping is a communist hardman, repressing what Western liberals regard as ‘freedoms’. And it is certainly not the case that socialist China deploys ‘rule by law’ to achieve its aims – the use of this phrase is an ignorant and malicious misreading of the actual situation in China. Instead, it means that Xi Jinping and the government are serious about strict observance of the socialist rule of law. Anyone who takes time to study this matter will soon realise that this is the reality in China today.

These days, you simply cannot get away with paying lip-service to the law and doing otherwise, with a carefully targeted wad of cash for the official involved. This applies to a whole range of activities that were regarded as somewhat normal a decade ago: prostitution, which has been effectively shut down in more and more places in China; unregistered educational institutions that used compliant visa officials to give foreigners dodgy visas; fake student identity cards for discount travel in the holiday seasons; gifts during festivals for compliant government officials; unregistered religious activities, through which foreigners used to think they might undermine the Chinese government; foreign involvement in protests in Hong Kong in the recent past; or indeed foreigners working in China in a grey zone of tourist or business visas.

The list could go on and on, but the point should be clear: socialist rule of law in China is here to stay and it will be developed much further.


Chen Youwu and Li Buyun. 2018. ‘Zhongguo fazhi lilun sishi nian: Fazhan, chuangxin ji qianjing’. Zhengzhi yu falü 2018 (12):64-75.

Deng Xiaoping. 1986 [2008]. ‘Guanyu zhengzhi tizhi gaige wenti (1986.09-11)’. In Deng Xiaoping wenxuan, Vol. 3, 176-80. Beijing: Renmin chubanshe.

Graham, Angus Charles. 1989. Disputers of the Tao: Philosophical Argument in Early China. La Salle: Open Court.

He Qinhua and Qi Kaiyue. 2018. ‘Fazhi chengwei fazhi: Xianfa xiugai tuijin shehuizhuyi fazhi jianshe’. Shandong shehui kexue 275:5-15.

Liu An. 2010. The Huainanzi: A Guide to the Theory and Practice of Government in Early Han China. Translated by John Major, Sarah Queen, Andrew Meyer, Harold Roth, Michael Puett and Judson Murray. New York: Columbia University Press.

Xi Jinping. 2017a. Juesheng quanmian jiancheng xiaokang shehui, duoqu xinshidai zhongguo tese shehuizhuyi weida shengli (2017.10.18). Beijing: Renmin chubanshe.

———. 2017b. Secure a Decisive Victory in Building a Moderately Prosperous Society in All Respects and Strive for the Great Success of Socialism with Chinese Characteristics for a New Era: Report to the 19th National Congress of the Communist Party of China, October 18, 2017. Beijing: Foreign Languages Press.


[1] I follow the modern Chinese approach in seeing fa (法) as primarily meaning ‘law’. Traces of its earlier meanings may be found in its semantic field, especially the two senses of ‘method’ and ‘standard’.

[2] The earliest appearance is in the ‘Yueling’ (Proceedings of Governments in Different months) chapter of the Book of Rites, dating back to the fifth-second centuries BCE. Here we find ‘restore the legal system’ (xiu fazhi), in the dynamic sense ( The Cihai is the most comprehensive dictionary in China, having first been published in 1915. It will appear in yet another revised version in 2019. The Cihai distinguished three senses of ‘legal system’: the widest, which incorporates all the laws (written and unwritten) of a state and its various political, economic and cultural systems; a medium, which incorporates legal system and legal order; and the narrowest, the legal system itself (falü zhidu). The narrowest is the most common usage.

[3] One may see this distinction in the use of the zhi (制) character, which can mean both ‘system’ (zhidu) and ‘formulation’ (zhiding).

[4] This is particularly the case with Huainanzi (compiled in the second century BCE), in the ‘Fanlun ’ chapter: ‘Knowing the origin of law-governance [法治], one can change with the times; not knowing the source of law-governance [法治], although following antiquity, one ends in chaos’ (zhi fazhi suo you sheng, ze ying shi’er bian; buzhi fazhi zhi yuan, sui xun gu zhong luan) ( Or, as the relatively recent translation of the Huainanzi puts it, somewhat more voluminously: ‘‘If you understand from whence law and governance arise, then you can respond to the times and alter. If you do not understand the origin of law and governance, even if you accord with antiquity, you will end up in disorder’ (Liu 2010, 611).

[5] ‘Legalism’ presents us with a classic trap of inadequate terminology that continues to be used widely, albeit always with caveats: the ancient fa is not restricted to ‘law’ and they were not a ‘school’ as such. Added to this is the denigration – based on selective readings of certain texts – of ‘Legalism’ as ‘an amoral science of statecraft’ (Graham 1989, 267-92).

[6] Notably, the fabled Cihai dictionary makes this distinction: rule of law is opposed to rule by human whim (He and Qi 2018, 8)

[7] He and Qi also delineate three positions, although now in relation to ‘legal system’ and ‘rule of law’ (2018, 8-11): 1) the two terms largely mean the same, whether ruling ‘according to’ law, or ‘rule of law’; 2) they are quite distinct, where ‘legal system’ can tend towards an instrumentalist and autocratic view, while ‘rule of law’ is closely connected with (socialist) democracy, the universally binding function of law, and the ability for the term to be more closely attuned with the times; 3) connection and difference, in which one can see certain overlaps (as with the first point), but also distinct differences (second point). Perhaps the best formulation is that every country has a legal system, among other systems, but not every country has rule of law.

[8] We may detect here an influence from the ‘Legalist’ tradition – which was praised by Mao in his anti-Confucian moments as an alternative path for the sinification of Marxism – with their implacable emphasis on the foundation function of law.


Lousy Evidence: On the Uselessness of ‘Defector’ Testimony (with relation to Xinjiang)

Some years ago now, there was self-styled ‘historian’ called Robert Conquest. He began his career, in 1948, working for the innocuously sounding ‘Information Research Department’, or IRD. This was an anti-communist unit under the auspices of the British Foreign Office. It was kept secret as long as possible (but the Russians knew about it) and was focused on developing anti-Soviet propaganda, in colonial countries and in the British labour movement. It soon became the largest unit in the Foreign Office.

Apart from a significant number of ‘defectors’ from the Soviet Union – in other words, anti-communist operators from the Russian bourgeoisie and aristocracy – it also employed a certain Robert Conquest. While undertaking this worthwhile task, Conquest also gathered much ‘testimony’ from the ‘defectors’. By 1956, Conquest had more than enough material and set out to become a ‘freelance’ historian and writer.

The result was a series of works, of which the most well-known are:

1968. The Great Terror: A Reassessment.

1986. The Harvest of Sorrow: Soviet Collectivization and the Terror-Famine.

1992. Stalin: Breaker of Nations.

I almost forgot the most intriguing work of all, co-authored with Jon White. It is called What to Do When the Russians Come: A Survivor’s Handbook, published in 1984.

These works appeared at the right time, when the ‘West’ was desperate for information to demonise not merely Stalin, but communism as such. In these works, we find the beginnings of the notions of ‘ethnic cleansing’ and the ‘Holodomor’ (Ukrainian ‘Holocaust’). For Conquest, communism was simply an evil, a blight on history, and the communist party was a secretive, paranoid outfit bent on a hellish world domination.

There was one problem: the nature of his ‘evidence’. Conquest relied on the material supplied by the aforesaid ‘émigrés’ or ‘defectors’, who had escaped the evil clutches of communism to tell their stories. Lurid stories they were, with one competing with the other to tell yet another tale. Let us compare this with ‘defectors’ from the DPRK (North Korea). They are paid 1 billion won (almost USD 1 million) if they have ‘useful’ information. You can imagine what sort of ‘information’ they are keen to supply.

Real historians have been less than impressed with Conquest’s methods. For example, already back in 1986 Robert Thurston described Conquest’s methods as ‘deskbound parochialism’ that made use of ‘lousy evidence’. In other words, it is simply unreliable for any serious historical research.

Fast-forward to 2018-2019 and the situation in Xinjiang, China. As the confected narrative of ‘ethnic cleansing’ among the Uyghur minority nationality has begun to unravel in light of the full story, what have the media in a small number of former colonial countries begun to do? Trot out a ‘defector’. This person proceeds to give a heart-rending account of ‘torture’ at the hands of the evil Chinese authorities (are not all communists incarnations of the devil?).

This is an old trick, used on many occasions in the past – the Soviet Union, DPRK, China in relation to Tibet, and now in relation to Xinjiang, China.

But it remains pure anti-communist propaganda, in the tradition of Robert Conquest. It is simply lousy evidence.

Why I am in favour of brainwashing

Every now and then, I need to address an audience with brains that have been saturated with all types of liberal and bourgeois rubbish. So I have decided to begin my talks as follows:

I am in favour of brainwashing … it is a very, very good practice.

As Mao Zedong said in 1957 to a group of students:

Some foreigners say that our ideological reform is brainwashing. As I see it, they are correct in what they say. It is washing brains, that’s what it is! This brain of mine was washed to become what it is. After I joined the revolution, [my brain] slowly washed, washed for several decades. What I received before was all bourgeois education, and even some feudal education … At that time, none of us knew anything about how the Chinese revolution was to be promoted!

So I ask you to take a moment to wash your brains, as far as possible. Identify all of the liberal, bourgeois assumptions you might have, especially concerning communism. Only in this way can you begin to understand what socialism with Chinese characteristics is.

Why is the debate concerning the socialist market economy settled in China?

When I asked a Chinese colleague recently about the socialist market economy, he said ‘why would you be interested in that? The debate is settled and no-one is much conerned with it’. I did point out that some international observers still do not understand the socialist market economy. For example, the EU acknowledges that China has a socialist market economy, but then misunderstands it: for the EU, it entails state ‘intervention’ in an autonomous ‘market’. Nothing could be further from the truth, for they use the framework of a capitalist market economy.

In my ongoing research, I have come across what is widely recognised as the most influential study on the socialist market economy, one that largely settled debates and defined the breakthrough. It is by Huang Nansen and entitled (in English translation), ‘The Philosophical Foundations of the Theory of the Socialist Market Economy’ (Marxism and Reality, 1994). Huang identifies two philosophical questions that lie at the basis of the theory and practice of a socialist market economy: contradiction analysis of socialist society; the relationship between universality (pubianxing) and particularity (teshuxing).

Contradiction Analysis

In terms of the first, he draws on an assumed approach that has much depth in Chinese Marxism: contradiction analysis. Briefly put, in his 1937 Yan’an lectures on dialectical materialism, one of Mao’s major breakthroughs was the necessity of contradictions after a communist revolution and during the long construction of socialism. The key text would later, with revisions, appear as ‘On Contradiction’ (1937), to be followed by ‘On Correctly Handling Contradictions Among the People’ (1957). For Huang, the important points are, first, that Mao identified the basic contradiction as one between the forces and relations of production, or between the economic base and the superstructure, and, second, that such contradictions should always be managed in a way that is non-antagonistic (feiduikangxing de maodun). While the second point is a given and remains a cornerstone today, Huang faults Mao for his misdirected application of the first. Thus, Mao felt that the manifestation of this contradiction appeared in terms of ownership: if the basic contradiction of capitalist society is between socialised production and private ownership of the means of production, then socialism should overcome this contradiction through public ownership of all means of production. The result, argues Huang, was a decline in production.

Instead, the way the forces-relations of production contradiction appears is not in terms of productive forces and ownership, but between productive forces and economic structure (jingji tizhi). With this breakthrough – enabled by the circle around Deng Xiaoping – it was possible to develop a socialist market economy. To find out how, and indeed what ‘economic system’ means, we need to wait until the next section, for he now addresses the relationship between a planned economy and a socialist market economy. Was the former a mistake? No, for it is appropriate immediately after a communist revolution, but only for a specific period. A planned economy works initially to liberate and develop productive forces, but eventually its limits appear and further development requires a shift to a socialist market economy. I am not sure this temporal argument is the best way to see the relationship between planned and socialist market economies, for they both continue to work together (more later).

Finally (for this section on contradiction analysis), does this argument entail a shift away from public ownership? Not at all, but once ownership is not seen as the primary contradiction, both public and private may develop in a symbiotic relationship, albeit with private ownership in a recognised but subordinate role. Let me add here that twenty-five years later this question takes on a whole new dimension, so it requires further work.

Universality and Particularity

The second philosophical problem concerns universality (pubianxing) and particularity (teshuxing), or what he also calls commonality (gongxing) and individuality (gexing). Succinctly stated, Huang’s argument is while a market economy is a universal or common reality, its integration with a capitalist or socialist socio-economic system evinces the particularity of each type of market economy.

This argument is based on a crucial terminological distinction, between a structure and a system. The Chinese terms are tizhi (体制) and zhidu (制度), which are somewhat difficult to translate in a way that indicates their differences, for they are often rendered with the same words in English. Tizhi in this case is a specific organisation or structure, such as an economic or political structure. Huang uses this term to speak of a ‘market economic structure [shichang jingji tizhi]’. Zhidu here refers to an overall and foundational system, which embraces the realms of politics, economics and society. To make his usage clear, Huang refers to the ‘basic economic system of society [shehui de jiben jingji zhidu]’, which may – in this context – be either capitalist or socialist. It follows that a specific structure, whether a planned economic structure or a market economic structure, may be a universal, while the overall system is a particularity.

With this distinction, Huang points out that in the past it was not common to distinguish between the two, for reasonably good historical reasons. Thus, the market economic structure was seen as inseparable from a capitalist system, while a planned economic structure was part and parcel of a socialist system. But historical developments since the Second World War have indicated the increased tendency in capitalist systems for planned structures, while in socialist systems – he notes Yugoslavia – some elements of a market economic structure began to emerge. These developments enabled the awareness of the distinction between specific structure and overall system. The outcome: it is quite possible, if not necessary, for a basic socialist socio-economic system to make use of a market economic structure. This was, he points out, the distinct insight of Deng Xiaoping and his comrades.

Of course, this raises the question: is a market economy neutral, like machinery or the natural sciences. Not at all, for as a market economy is integrated within the overall system, its nature is shaped by that system. Thus, a socialist market economy is qualitatively different from a capitalist market economy. Now the relationship between universality and particularity takes another turn: while a market economy may have a basic commonality, in terms of the means and basis for the logistic functions of a market economy, it also takes on the specificity of the system in which it is shaped, whether socialist or capitalist. The conclusion is that one may therefore speak of a socialist market economic structure (tizhi) within a socialist system (zhidu).

The final matter concerns what distinguishes the socialist market economy. Huang identifies five features: 1) It contains a multiplicity of components, but public ownership remains the core economic driver; 2) While enterprises in a socialist market economy must be viable, their main purpose is not profit at all costs, but social benefit (gongtongti fuwu) and meeting the needs of all people; 3) It deploys the old socialist principle of from each according to ability and to each according to work, limiting exploitation and wealth polarisation, and seeking common prosperity; 4) The guide for action (to parse Engels) always remains Marxism; 5) The primary value should always be socialist collectivism (shehuizhuyi de jitizhuyi) rather than individualism.

Huang closes with a timely warning: the shift to a socialist market economy is by no means easy, for it entails profound social transformation, which will entail many unforeseen problems and challenges ahead.

I have taken some time with this contribution, since Huang’s sophisticated analysis effectively summed up debates and established the philosophical foundations for a socialist market economy. Many of his insights remain valid and one can see how they have been and are implemented, albeit not without a few significant problems on the way. At the same time, it is twenty-five years since Huang’s study and Chinese socialism, let alone the socialist market economy, have taken some major steps. The tell-tale signal is the awareness that China has almost achieved the ‘great leap [weida feiyue]’ to socio-economic wellbeing, and that it is embarking on the leap to become a strong socialistically modernised society. Or, as it was put at the nineteenth congress of the CPC, China has entered a ‘new era [xinshidai]’.

At least three questions remain from Huang’s analysis: 1) The delinking of ‘market economy’ from a capitalist system; 2) The issue of ownership; 3) The shift a socialist market economy from being a component to basic logistical device. These are the subject of further analysis.

Believing in Ghosts: Unravelling the ‘China Threat’ Narrative

In a small number of countries, one has to face from time to time the ‘China threat’ narrative, although it is best to avoid such nonsense. It is a classic case of spinning a certain narrative and then fitting bits and pieces into that narrative, while ignoring most others. Compare it to a belief in ghosts: the creaking door, the misplaced keys, the movement in the corner of your eye – these and more become part of the narrative. Spooks everywhere!

So let us have a look at some of the curious items that are dredged up and twisted into the narrative, or – when all else fails – simply made up.

  1. China is instituting an ‘Orwellian’ world of complete citizen control through means such as the ‘social credit’ system and ‘facial recognition’ security cameras.

The fact is that governments have always had various means for monitoring citizens and foreigners, but it all depends on their use. Historically – as the former Danish high commissioner in China observed – Chinese governments have been wary indeed to use them on their own citizens, for the focus is on challenges and threats from outside (the foreigner social credit system is the real issue). By contrast, governments that come out of the Western European tradition have always perceived the threats as coming from within, so they deploy such systems on their own citizens. Think of Cambridge Analytica, the NSA, or indeed the simple fact that a country like Australia with a small population has more surveillance cameras than China. The framework that arises from this tradition is obviously imposed on the very different situation in China.

  1. The reason why the Chinese government is seeking to monitor its citizens is that the restless population at large is hankering after Western ‘freedoms’, bourgeois ‘democracy’, ‘human rights’ and … Facebook. Indeed, it is the duty of upright foreigners to assist the people where possible.

This one is based on events like the foreign-funded and foreign-assisted Hong Kong protests of recent memory, which have been widely condemned in the rest of China.

The reality: in the monthly Ipsos surveys, China regularly scores around 90 percent for confidence in the direction in which the country is headed, while the Edelman trust barometer indicates 84 percent trust in government and public institutions among the general population and 89 percent trust among younger educated people. Further, as the World Values surveys indicate, the vast majority of people believe that the government actively promotes human rights. Again, the more educated and younger the respondents, the higher the level of trust and support.

  1. Huawei, the world’s leading technology innovator is a ‘security threat’, so one must avoid having Huawei do anything in one’s country, from providing 5G networks to selling phones.

At least there is one small fact here: Huawei is indeed way ahead – on many fronts now – of any technology company you will find elsewhere in the world. However, in China there are more than Huawei. One that is arguably ahead even of Huawei is Xiaomi, but alongside Huawei are a host of others breaking new ground.

But is it a ‘security threat’? Will its networks be used to spy on the country where they are installed, given that the Communist Party’s spooks control and watch everything? No more or less than Apple, Google, Facebook – to use but a few well-known examples. Ah, but hang on, these have already been proven to be security threats to every country where they are used. They actively gather data and pass it on to third parties, either government agencies or commercial firms, and in the latter the material has been used to sway political directions and the nature of governance.

Has anything like this been proven for Huawei? No.

  1. The only way China has leapt ahead of the rest of the world is through ‘intellectual property theft’.

This one has a large dose of racism in it, for it assumes that the Chinese are unable to invent and develop anything for themselves (they used to say the same about the Soviet Union). Even more, it is a classic case of ‘a thief thinks everyone else is a thief’ (a Danish saying). As the material revealed by Edward Snowden has shown, United States’ technology companies have been trying to steal intellectual property from China for quite a while now in a desperate effort to keep up.

  1. The local government of Xinjiang Autonomous Region has established a series of ‘camps’ (that is, ‘concentration camps’) designed for the ‘ethnic cleansing’ of the region’s ‘peace-loving’ Uyghurs who are simply seeking ‘secession’ from China.

This one is particularly malicious, for it deliberately ignores: the serious problem with Islamic radicalism and terrorism in Xinjiang since the 1990s; the development of de-radicalisation programs – after much study of such programs elsewhere in the world – for young people from poor backgrounds who have become directly involved in Islamic cells; the significant success of such programs and their adoption elsewhere in the world; the two-pronged approach of immediate security and long-term socio-economic improvement; and – importantly – the timing of such a narrative, which is clearly a futile effort to disrupt the Belt and Road Initiative. Notably, the vast majority of countries – especially Muslim majority ones – have seen through the story and called it out.

  1. The independent country of Tibet was ‘invaded’ and ‘annexed’ by China in 1956, so the ‘government in exile’ is patiently waiting to return, led by the ‘spiritual leader’, the Dalai Lama.

This is a relatively old one, promoted by organisations such as the CIA’s ‘soft’ arm, the National Endowment for Democracy, since the 1980s, and by a small number of other organisations and countries. The reality is that the Tibet Autonomous Region has been part of China at least since the Qing dynasty, if not much earlier. Further, the ‘vegetarian between meals’, the Dalai Lama, was initially very supportive of Mao and the Chinese communists and signed a significant agreement with them. He reneged on the deal, led a violent revolt in 1959, which was funded by the CIA and failed. Forced to flee, he has been trying to curry favour with anyone who might listen, but is now regarded – believe it or not – as too soft a figure by many in the conflict-ridden anti-communist Tibetans abroad. Meanwhile, Tibet’s economy and Buddhist culture have been flourishing, obviously benefitting from its integral role within China as a whole. The reality that the one who really liberated Tibet was Mao Zedong.

  1. The Communist Party of China keeps a ‘close watch’ on all the tens of millions of Chinese citizens abroad, ‘monitoring’ everything they write, say and do.

Why do I need to spend time answering such a stupid superstition? I have heard some say – without a shred of evidence – that every group that travels abroad from China has a CPC spy amongst them, reporting back home. Or that every time a group of Chinese citizens meet, one of them will keep a recording of the discussion. Or if they use wechat, write a university assignment, talk on the phone, go for a walk, shower or go to the toilet – the CPC knows all. If so, the CPC membership must be flat-out keeping up with it all.

  1. Every Chinese citizen abroad is a spy for their government.

Contradiction with the previous point, if not also points 1 and 2? Who said one needs to be consistent in spinning a narrative like this?

  1. The Chinese government sends ‘spies’ to silence external critics. These spies break into homes, put pressure on employers, and send veiled threats to aforesaid critics.

I do believe this is known as paranoia, a mental condition. In a few countries in the world we seem to be at a time when the wacky sinophobes, who have been restlessly seeking the limelight, seem to have their moment in the sun. They have become ‘mainstream’, whereas not so long ago they were on the lunatic fringe. Of course, everyone who seeks the limelight loves to be heard at last. Sadly, they do not realise that they are being used by governments for agendas they do not understand. History will soon enough indicate how wacky they really are.

  1. The Chinese government enlists ‘Panda huggers’ or ‘Western enablers’ to carry out its aims. Since ‘everyone’ knows that the Chinese government is a secret organisation bent on world domination, then the many foreigners who work in or with China and try to understand it properly must have sold their souls to the devil.

Are those who trot this one out really serious, or are they joking?

  1. The ‘whole world’ is turning on China, so that it is now isolated, with no friends.

The reality is that the ‘whole world’ is in fact 12 to 15 countries, who have – since the Second World War – enjoyed setting the agenda. They and their media love to use the term ‘whole world’, when in fact they are referring to parts of north-western Europe, North America, Australia and New Zealand. In other words, for them the majority of the rest of the world does not count. This colonial cabal (former colonisers all) are the ones who have been peddling the ‘China threat’ hypothesis for the last couple of years. And they have a compliant media – state-run, corporate and independent – toeing the line.

No friends? Actually, for every ‘enemy’ of China, there are dozens of friends, across the Eurasian landmass, eastern and southern Europe, Africa, Latin America and the Pacific.

Earlier, I referred to a narrative that has to be supported by whatever means. But what is the narrative here? Basically, it is that the Communist Party of China is an ‘evil’, ‘secretive’ and ‘paranoid’ outfit that is afraid of a restless population, which at one and the same time willingly assists in the project for world domination.

It really is like believing in ghosts. Spooks wherever you turn.