COUNTRIES AT THE CROSSROADS GOVERNANCE BLOG

Evidence of Cambodian Governance Backsliding Accumulates

Photo Credit: Flickr user 12th St David

In a recent Human Rights Watch press release on Cambodia, Brad Adams, the organization’s Asia Director, commented that “Hun Sen seems intent on reversing the political pluralism that has been created over the past two decades.” Adams’ statement was directly referring to the January 27 conviction of opposition leader Sam Rainsy on charges of fueling racial tensions and destroying demarcation posts on the Cambodia-Vietnam border. Rainsy was tried in absentia and sentenced to two years in prison and a fine of 8 million riels (US$2,000). His case is representative of the situation currently faced by most government-critical activists and politicians in the country, as Prime Minister Hun Sen has increasingly clamped down on dissent and strengthened his hold over the country, plunging Cambodia into a governance downslide.

As Rainsy’s case highlights, the undermining of the rule of law in has become increasingly prevalent in Cambodia. Rainsy’s unfair trial exemplifies the political perversion of the Cambodian justice system, which continues to be manipulated by Cambodia’s high-level officials. Rainsy has been the frequent target of politically motivated charges since the 1990s, with government officials engaging in repeated attempts to jail the opposition leader. Unfortunately, he is not alone. As most judges and prosecutors are members of the ruling Cambodian People’s Party, Hun Sen and other high-level government figures have been able to use the court system to target opposition leaders, activists, and journalists with defamation suits. The government’s use of the judiciary as a political tool has become even more flagrant of late, with at least ten government critics being sued for criminal defamation in 2009, including two additional opposition parliamentarians, a Sam Rainsy Party youth activist, and four journalists. In addition to lacking independence, the Cambodian judiciary is also plagued by corruption, an issue that gained international awareness when a kickback scheme was uncovered within the UN-backed Khmer Rouge tribunal in 2007.

Another particularly troubling rule of law issue relates to property rights, specifically the escalating issue of forced evictions and land confiscations. According to Human Rights Watch, “Cambodia’s epic of forced evictions of the urban poor and confiscation of farmers’ land in the countryside reached crisis proportions in 2009.” Land grabs have become increasingly common in recent years, a practice that is made possible by a convoluted land-titling system that has favored the wealthy elites, leaving 80 percent of citizens in rural areas without title deeds. The weak legal regime, combined with the ability of powerful officials and businessmen to manipulate the system, has left ordinary Cambodians without an avenue to protect their rights or receive adequate compensation in cases of eviction. High real estate prices and new development projects in both rural and urban areas have been especially to blame for this problem in the past years.

Most alarmingly, the security forces charged with carrying out evictions frequently engage in excessive force against civilians, who are rarely informed of evictions in advance. For example, in January 2009, 250 police hired by the company 7NG, which claimed ownership of the land, evicted 152 families from the Dey Kraham community, using tear gas to disperse the crowd. Furthermore, villagers and activists who protest against the unjust confiscation of land are often arrested and even shot, as was the case with four Che Kreng villagers in one March 2009 clash with the police. More than 60 people are imprisoned or awaiting trial for charges related to land conflicts, an indication that ordinary citizens who rebel against the government’s policies have not escaped the crackdown experienced by the formal opposition. Activists working on human rights and land and trade union issues, along with opposition journalists, have been especially subject to harassment, attacks, and even killings, and crimes are often committed by the security forces. In 2008, the Cambodian Human Rights and Development Association investigated the murders of 40 Cambodians, six of them political activists, by security force members. 

In yet another egregious example, a recent Human Rights Watch report chronicles the abuses endured by drug users who are sent to “rehabilitation centers.” According to the report, drug users detained in the center are beaten, raped, subjected to forced labor, and tortured rather than provided with effective treatment for their addictions. Many of the detainees end up in the center after being arbitrarily arrested in mass police round-ups of prostitutes, homeless people, the mentally-ill, and drug-users alike, and are often left in the dark as to the charges against them. In response to allegations regarding these abuses, the government has occasionally recognized these practices, although it normally justifies them as a necessary part of drug rehabilitation.

Cambodia’s governance backsliding is especially distressing due to the generous amount of funding the country receives from international donors. International assistance makes up over half of Cambodia’s annual budget. Most of Cambodia’s major development partners, which include the World Bank, the Asian Development Bank, the United Nations, the European Commission, and the United States, among others, have invested in a variety of projects geared towards advancing judicial reform, addressing past abuses (most notably through the UN-funded Khmer Rouge tribunal), instituting training programs on human rights issues, addressing health issues such as HIV/AIDS, and fostering economic development. However, these donors have had minimal success in ensuring that the government takes its international human rights commitments seriously. This is partly due to the fact that although investors will occasionally issue formal criticisms of the Cambodian government and urge reform, the aid keeps coming. Their limited achievements in this realm, and the recent backsliding on any progress made in the past, are also at least partly the result of China’s high levels of investment in the country, which has largely been funneled towards infrastructure development. As we discussed in a previous post, China’s assistance is not conditioned on the adoption of reforms, and thus increased Chinese assistance has afforded the Cambodian government a greater ability to turn its back on good governance efforts with lesser financial consequences, and to use China’s ever-mounting assistance as a bargaining chip when dealing with other donors.

Colombia's Ambivalence Towards Victims Raises Questions

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On July 14, the Colombian government rejected the “Ley de Fosas,” a law that would have created the “Bank of Genetic Profiles of the Disappeared.” This database would have collected both genetic information obtained from the exhumed remains of Colombian victims buried in mass graves and the genetic data of family members of the disappeared, in an effort to facilitate the identification process.  When justifying its decision, the government cited financial considerations, arguing that the law’s implementation would be unfeasible in light of Colombia’s current macroeconomic situation. Specifically, it noted that the cost of collecting and preserving the genetic data would reach over $91 billion pesos (roughly US$45 million), a significant expenditure given the nation’s current financial constraints. In response, Guillermo Rivera, one of the law’s coauthors, argued that the government was exaggerating the projected cost, noting that the law did not intend to initiate DNA testing in all cases. In addition, he reminded the government of its obligation to do everything possible to identify the victims of the 44-year internal conflict that continues to afflict Colombia today.

Unfortunately, this is one of several recent examples of the government acting intransigently in its attitude toward victims of the internal conflict. The “Ley de Victimas”(Victims’ Law), an initiative that establishes the reparations process for the conflict’s victims, is another. A version passed in the Senate in June 2008 with strong endorsements from both domestic and international human rights groups was extensively modified over the following year. It finally was passed by the Chamber of Representatives on June 16, but in a weakened state that was criticized by Guillermo Rivera, the original bill’s proposer, human rights organizations, and victims alike due to the fact that it discriminated between victims of guerrilla groups and victims of the state. In its modified form, the law allowed victims of guerrilla groups and paramilitaries to apply for compensation through administrative means, but required victims of state security forces to prove that a state official committed a crime acting beyond his authority before being eligible to receive compensation. Due to the slowness and inefficiency of Colombia’s judicial system, the discriminatory ramifications of this particular clause were considered especially pernicious.  Although the Chamber and Senate reconciliation committee approved the Senate version, Uribe allies knocked the bill down at the executive branch’s behest in the Senate reconciliation vote on June 18. As with the Ley de Fosas, financial hardship arguments were utilized to justify its actions.

In response to those who criticized its decision, the government announced that it would be willing to draft a new law, along the lines of the Chamber of Representatives bill, that addresses the concerns of the victims while staying within budget guidelines. Nevertheless, the decision to sink the original Senate version was considered an insult by many victims’ rights groups.  According to Senator Juan Fernando Cristo, the promoter of the Senate bill, “the Congress prefers to legislate in favor of the perpetrators instead of the victims.” The fact that state agents were implicated in a series of extrajudicial executions in 2008 made the government’s insistence on treating crimes by state agents differently all the more eyebrow-raising.

The government’s obstinacy is especially disheartening considering the fact that the conflict is by no means over. Although urban security has improved tremendously, with the number of homicides and kidnappings related to the armed conflict decreasing substantially as a result of paramilitary demobilization and gains by state security forces, the number of victims continues to mount as additional Colombians suffer arbitrary killings, displacement, and other abuses. According to Amnesty International’s 2009 report, more than 1,515 civilians were killed from June 2007-June 2008, whereas 1,348 were killed in the previous 12-month period. In addition, the organization recently reported that 380,000 people were displaced in Colombia in 2008, which represents a 24% increase from 2007 and makes the number of displaced people in Colombia among the highest in the world.  As Marco Pollack, AI’s Americas director, notes, “The Colombian government is lying when it says that violence is part of the past. The reality is very different.” It is clear that the war continues to rage on; in fact, Human Rights Watch has reported that the demobilized paramilitary groups have been replaced with new armed groups.

This all comes in the context of the broader peace process, which, given continued fighting between guerrillas and the state, has centered on paramilitary demobilization. Although the government made an attempt to address this issue by passing the 2005 Justice and Peace Law, which sets out demobilization procedures and offers lighter punishments for full and truthful confessions, and the 2006 amendments to the law that followed a Constitutional Court decision insisting that the law’s treatment of the perpetrators be made more stringent, the justice process has lagged since this time. Paramilitaries have often failed to cooperate, while victims testifying against the defendants have been threatened and killed.  Of particular concern is the fact that several of the rights workers who have been harmed are those working on the specific issue of land reform, which is one of the most sensitive elements of the concurrent truth and reparations processes. The level of displacement has resulted in an enormous transfer of land from the rural poor to powerful actors, many of whom are paramilitaries or are linked to them. Determining what land was stolen in this “counter-reform” and returning it to its rightful possessors is one of the most important tests for Colombian justice. Again, unfortunately, progress here has been extremely slow.

Even as the above controversies rage, President Alvaro Uribe has recently visited rural municipalities and personally overseen the distribution of reparations to some victims of non-state actors.  The administration takes pride in the security gains it has brought the country and the boost to Colombia’s international reputation. However, it has also made erroneous assertions that Colombia’s internal conflict is a thing of the past, a position that may shine some light on the apparent reluctance to embrace victims’ rights. Instead of demanding a full accounting of the conflict’s atrocities, the administration seems to favor a superficial form of “reconciliation” over “truth,” possibly in order to be able to claim victory and cement both its legacy and the continuity of its policies (regardless of whether Uribe or someone else occupies the presidency next year, which is a different question). However, without full truth and complete reparations, real reconciliation is impossible.  An inconsistent stance toward the conflict’s victims is the wrong way to proceed, and may thwart the nation’s progress rather than expedite it. In order for Colombia to have a chance at sustained justice and progress, persecution of illegal armed actors must be accompanied by a demonstration that the government respects the deep grievances underlying the conflict and is willing to address them in full—even if it seems expensive.

Violence in Peru: The Government's Role

Last Friday a brutal clash occurred between Peruvian police attempting to open up a highway and the hundreds of Amazonian indigenous protesters that had been blocking the road for weeks. At least a dozen police and 9 protesters – though possibly many more – were killed during the protests; Saturday brought the discovery of another dozen dead police who had been held hostage by protesters. The protests, which have mobilized a number of different tribes throughout the vast Peruvian Amazon, are based on a series of decree laws issued by the government in the first half of 2008. The protesters perceive that these laws will violate their ancestral territorial rights by opening their lands to resource exploitation. In addition, they were not consulted – as is necessary under international agreements to which Peru is a party, including International Labor Organization Convention 169 – prior to the enactment of the decrees. Thus, their stance was that the laws must be rescinded entirely. The government refused to cede, arguing that the laws were necessary for Peru’s modernization and that the violence was entirely the fault of the protesters. President Alan Garcia has been particularly aggressive in declaring that the violence was the result of a conspiracy carried out by malign forces, both international and domestic, that who do not wish to see Peru advance.

No proof has been offered for what appear to be these absurd accusations. Moreover, while the government is absolutely correct that the killings of the police are unacceptable and must be investigated and perpetrators held accountable, the government’s own attitudes and actions have been determinant during the course of the conflict. President Garcia’s statements, which repeatedly state that the indigenous are being manipulated by outsiders, treat them like sheep and deny them all agency. The government also seems to lack any context – regardless of the content of these specific decrees, the government should be able to understand why a group of people who have been excluded from policy decisions regarding their ancestral lands for hundreds of years might have justifiable suspicions regarding their future. The protesters have undoubtedly made serious mistakes, but the government’s attitude has represented the worst facets of a state that is prone to Lima-centric political fiddling while the jungle (or mountains, or anywhere else outside the capital) burns. Below is the translation of a column from Tuesday’s La Republica in which the well-known, centrist Peruvian political scientist Martin Tanaka provides some of that context.

The State, Organizer of the Protest

Martin Tanaka, La Republica (Lima), 6/9/09

Social organization in the Amazon, like the country as whole, has been marked in recent years by localism and fragmentation. It could be argued that the broad protest movement throughout the Amazon is the consequence of government action: the adoption of the DL [decree laws] without indigenous consultation created the perception that the indigenous way of life was at risk, triggered the memory of historical grievances and feelings of regional exclusion and distance from the state, and laid the foundations for a conflict in which the general identity and dignity of the Amazon was at stake. It also created a common demand (the repeal of the DL) and a single adversary, the central government, which must be addressed. AIDESEP ended up circumstantially channeling these demands, as it was the organization best positioned to lead the demands of the widely heterogeneous groups.

The demand for the repeal of the decrees is also the creation of the state. Since the protests of September of last year and until very recently the government gave signals that it would repeal the decrees in question (like 1090, which was declared unconstitutional by the [congressional] Constitutional Commission on May 20). It was only in recent weeks that the government took the position of defending the constitutionality of the decrees, and proposed a comprehensive revision of these decrees in the PCM [council of ministers].

Too late: the government created the image of having been “rocking” the indigenous peoples. This led to the radicalization of the protests. The violence unleashed as a result of attempting to clear the Fernando Belaunde roadway is also the creation of the state; many leaders in the area are reserve soldiers, former patrolmen and members of self-defense groups, ex-soldiers from Cenepa [ed.: a reference to the brief 1995 war between Ecuador and Peru]. The existence of these capabilities for mobilization explains why the resistance to police action has been so fierce.

The government’s mishandling of the whole situation can help one to understand the ease with which extremist speeches are propagated, irresponsible leaders are exalted, false information is taken as true (such as the information that speaks of the killing of tens or even hundreds of indigenous people), all of which results in the brutal assassination of policemen. Those who sympathize (and we do sympathize) which the demands of the indigenous population should be the first to say clearly that no protest, no matter how just it may be, that confronts a democratic government, however misguided it may be, justifies the murder of unarmed policemen.

The worst thing is that even today the government’s answer continues to create conditions for more protests and violence. The persecution of indigenous leaders, the talk of manipulation, ignorance, misinformation, and the presence of foreign interests only increase the anger and annoyance of the Amazonians. The president of the republic himself has made frankly irresponsible declarations. A path of relaxation, prudence, and dialogue such as that being promoted by the Ombudsman must be opened.

Photo Credit: Flickr user powless

Rhetoric vs. Reality: The Bolivarian Commitment to Indigenous Rights

On April 14th, the Bolivian Congress passed an electoral law that guarantees the holding of both general elections and departmental and regional referendums on autonomy this December. The law was only approved after prolonged debate and deadlock between the governing Movement Toward Socialism (MAS) party and the opposition. In this case, indigenous issues were a major point of contention. While the MAS proposed that 14 seats in the lower house of the Legislature be reserved for representatives from indigenous districts, the opposition insisted that this would lead to the overrepresentation of indigenous areas. The MAS eventually compromised by decreasing its requested number of indigenous seats to 11 and then to 8, but the opposition remained intransigent. In the end, 7 seats were allotted to indigenous representatives. In response, two of Bolivia’s most powerful indigenous organizations, the Lowland Indigenous Confederation (CIDOB) and the National Council of Ayllus and Markas of Kollasuyu (CONAMAQ), expressed their outrage at the MAS’ perceived betrayal.

This rift between the MAS and Bolivia’s indigenous movements is superficially surprising, considering President Evo Morales’ traditionally unwavering commitment to indigenous rights. Morales, himself an Aymara Indian, has largely centered his administration around the mission of reversing the centuries of exploitation suffered by the indigenous majority. For several of the region’s other “Bolivarian” presidents, this theme has also constituted an important focus. In Venezuela, President Hugo Chavez has pledged to eradicate the remnants of imperialism, rectify the deplorable situation of the country’s relatively small indigenous population, and incorporate the communitarian tradition of indigenous peoples into his socialist agenda. In Ecuador, President Rafael Correa has made similar promises.

Nevertheless, the rhetoric of these leaders has not always matched the reality of the situation. In several instances, indigenous groups in all three countries have been disappointed as promises and formal protections have yielded tenuous results.

In Bolivia, there is no arguing the fact that the rights of the indigenous peoples, who make up as much as 55% of the country’s population, have been vastly expanded with Morales at the helm of government. In January of this year, Bolivians approved a new constitution that, in addition to officially recognizing and protecting the cultural and social rights of Bolivia’s 36 indigenous communities, provides for the actual participation of Bolivia’s indigenous people in the country’s political life. Morales considered this constitution to be a “re-founding” of Bolivia which restored the indigenous majority to their rightful place at the heart of the country’s political and social fabric. 

As a result of these advances, Bolivia’s indigenous people are undoubtedly more included than ever before. However, the government’s commitment to indigenous rights may not be absolute. The Morales administration’s minor regression in this area is best illustrated by the aforementioned electoral law. Before the negotiations on the law had even begun, the MAS had already alienated the country’s indigenous movements by requesting 14 seats rather than the 18 seats proposed by CIDOB and CONAMAQ. These organizations claimed that the MAS ignored the new constitutional provisions that provide for the active participation of indigenous people in the country’s legislative, executive, and judicial bodies. They also highlighted the lack of indigenous representation in the presidential cabinet. Roman Loayza, one of the founders of the MAS, who has announced a run against Morales in the upcoming presidential election, broke with the party over this issue, arguing that the upper echelons of the government are dominated by converted neoliberals and leftists rather than those who are truly representative of Bolivia’s plurinational state. After the electoral law passed, indigenous groups declared their intent to reconsider their backing of the MAS government. In response to the indignation expressed by these groups, the government made some initial overtures. Early last week, the MAS announced its desire to set up a meeting with the leaders of the CIDOB to explain the reasoning behind its final decision to agree on 7 indigenous seats. Regardless of the outcome of this meeting, however, the mutual trust between the two groups has been at least temporarily shaken.

In Venezuela, the situation of indigenous rights is also rather precarious. Due to the fact that Venezuela’s indigenous peoples only constitute around 1.4% of the country’s population, the government’s emphasis on indigenous issues is not as intense as in Bolivia. However, Chavez has repeatedly expressed his commitment to address the long-standing discrimination against indigenous peoples and even renamed Columbus Day the “Day of Indigenous Resistance.” This commitment was institutionalized in the constitution of 1999, a document that not only includes a formal recognition of the language and cultural rights of the indigenous population, but also declares the state’s responsibility to institute social programs for the benefit of the indigenous and to demarcate indigenous lands. Furthermore, it guarantees indigenous groups representation in the National Assembly.

The efforts made by Venezuela to address the plight of the indigenous through constitutional reform are notable. However, the rights enjoyed by Venezuela’s indigenous population have not been universally upheld. Indigenous peoples have frequently protested the government’s slow-paced land demarcation process.  Exploitation of natural resources in indigenous territories is an example of especially flagrant abuse, and indigenous groups including the Wayuu, Yukpa, and Bari have repeatedly fought against coal, gold, and diamond mining in their territories. In many of these cases, Chavez has responded with promises and actions geared at directly addressing their grievances. However, as with most elements in Chavez’s Venezuela, implementation has lagged rhetoric. For example, the government halted plans for new coal mining in the state of Zulia after indigenous groups voiced disapproval through a series of protests. Nevertheless, Chavez later announced that the state-owned corporation Corpozulia would acquire the majority of coal mining projects in the state, which led indigenous groups to speculate that coal mining – along with its attendant abuses – would simply continue under new management.

Finally, in Ecuador, indigenous rights have also been controversial. During his first campaign for the presidency in 2006, Rafael Correa pledged to respond to the injustices faced by the 20% of the population comprised of indigenous groups. Moreover, the constitution approved in September 2008 recognizes the rights of indigenous people to their own cultural traditions and territories, while protecting them against racism. It also grants them a certain level of autonomy over their territorial administrative districts. 

Nevertheless, the constitution has not proved satisfactory to some indigenous groups, and Correa’s approach to indigenous rights has been questionable. During the drafting of the constitution, for example, Correa expressed his disapproval of the concept of plurinationality. In addition, the issue of indigenous territories and resources has been particularly polemical. A new mining law passed in January of this year was met with widespread condemnation among indigenous peoples, who fear the negative consequences that metal mining will have on their territories and natural wealth. After the law was passed, the powerful Confederation of Indigenous Nationalities of Ecuador (CONAIE) presented a lawsuit against President Correa to the Constitutional Court. The CONAIE argues that the law, which attempts to regulate large-scale extractive mining, violates indigenous rights to water, nature, and to prior consultation in matters involving indigenous lands.

As the above cases show, the Bolivarian emphasis on indigenous rights sometimes exists more in theory than in practice. It is important to emphasize that the mere visibility and inclusion of indigenous issues represents a colossal transformation in countries where indigenous peoples have been banished from the political and social sphere for centuries. Nevertheless, in several instances, the Bolivarian presidents have also demonstrated their willingness to relegate their commitments to indigenous rights to the back-burner in favor of political expediency. To a large degree, this is merely inevitable compromise. However, given indigenous groups’ historically grounded suspicion that they will eventually be marginalized, successful policy requires a comprehensive, dedicated approach to the issue rather than the current coupling of piecemeal advancements with contradictory regressions.

Photo Credit: Flickr user fguzmanj2001

Migration: Another Pressure Point for China's System

The global economic crisis that has resulted in 20 million Chinese migrant workers losing their jobs, in combination with the prominence of last summer’s Beijing Olympics, have resulted in somewhat sustained attention to the issue of freedom of movement in China. While the economy was strong and the dollars pouring in, officials were able to occasionally place on the reform agenda the ancient and cumbersome hukou, a household registration system greatly restricting travel and maintaining a huge rural-urban divide (discussed here in January). The strong demand for Chinese goods also served as an incentive to allow millions of migrants to come to urban centers and work factory jobs. No more.

As of 2008, the hukou system continued to deny Chinese migrants public benefits such as education for children and medical care. The government did introduce temporary household registration for migrant workers, but only a small percentage of workers have been able to obtain it. At the Third Plenum of the 17th Party Congress held on October 12, 2008, it was announced that the “old rural-urban divide” can now give way to “a combined development of urban and rural areas.” Recently, some cities, such as Jiaxing City in Zhejiang, abolished the designation of “agricultural households,” and Yunnan province eliminated the distinction between agricultural and non-agricultural hukou. Despite the changes, however, critics note that discrimination against migrants in terms of what types of benefits they receive still exists. The recent creation of 20 million jobless migrant laborers and the current lack of an adequate welfare system serve to highlight this fact.

Members of China’s Uighur Muslim minority have been particularly notable victims of movement restrictions: they have faced oppression for years, and existing travel restrictions became even tighter in the lead-up to the 2008 Olympics. During this time, Uighurs were discouraged or in some cases, barred from air travel and access to Beijing was limited. Every year during the holy Muslim month of Ramadan, Uighur passports are confiscated by the Chinese government, forcing Uighurs to join government-run tours to Mecca, rather than traveling there on their own, which is illegal. Today almost no Uighurs have passports, an especially problematic issue for business owners. Similarly, Tibetans face strict limitations on their movement and are required to have travel permits to leave the areas in which they are registered to live. 

Besides increasing travel restrictions, the Beijing Olympics resulted in forced evictions so that new stadiums could be built. A common estimate, noted in this post, put the number at 1.5 million Chinese moved to make way for Olympic construction, though it notes this has occurred over an eight year period leading up to the games. “Undesirables,” migrants and the homeless were also removed from the city in preparation for the Olympics. In addition, the games were used as a pretext to arrest an estimated 1,500 members of China’s Falun Gong movement. Many members were removed from the sites of Olympic venues and sent to labor camps.

It seems clear that as the financial crisis worsens and attention to reform is diverted, hukou will continue to pose a problem in 2009. Many of the millions of Chinese workers who lost their jobs no longer possess the skills to work in the agriculture sector; in some cases, they simply do not want to return to rural life and its low-paying, backbreaking jobs. The clock is ticking for China to comprehensively enact reforms to ensure that migrant laborers in the cities have access to the same benefits as traditional urban dwellers. If not, the millions of unemployed and bitter migrants may pose a dangerous challenge to Chinese authorities. After all, as has been mentioned innumerable times by advocates of greater democracy in China, the rigidity of the country’s political system means there is little in the way of escape valves – among the most important one in a democratic system being elections and a free press. Without these valves, this may be the moment when the system’s internal contradictions are laid bare.

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The Dragon's Surprisingly Ambivalent Reform

Thirty years ago, land reforms in China launched the country’s economic rise, initiating a process that enriched urban dwellers at the expense of the rural peasantry. Nowadays China is one of the most unequal countries in the world, and urban-rural divides are at the core of many institutional bottlenecks that hinder the attainment of broad, equitable progress. In fact, land issues encapsulate one of modern China’s major contradictions: while the market is now king in most economic spheres, land is still collectively owned and its usage heavily restricted by the state. Urban land can be traded with very long leases that are, in practical terms, as good as outright ownership (manifold state abuses such as forced dislocation aside), whereas rural land is still owned by village committees that rent small plots to peasants on 30-year leases. Land cannot be mortgaged and selling usage rights or building can be legally problematic. As peasants cannot own land or use it as collateral, credit is all but impossible to obtain and little incentive exists to improve the lots, let alone consolidate them. This creates productive inefficiencies and jeopardizes China’s food security.

Furthermore, the village collective-state-corporation alliance makes the system prone to corruption and clientelism. Illegal, and often violent, land seizures by local officials and developers remain endemic. In numerous instances, farmland is seized for urban expansion and industrialization without sufficient compensation given to farmers, while local officials siphon off profits further fueling resentment. Thus, according to the East Asia Forum “illegal land requisitions take place in the order of tens of thousands a year,” causing an increasing number of peasant protests. In other instances and despite technically being illegal, plot sizes are reallocated among villagers based on family size, even in cases where leases have not expired. Divorced and widowed women are especially vulnerable to these practices.

Because land issues encompass so many of China’s major economic, social, political, institutional and environmental challenges, land reform is urgent. Thus, the Communist Party’s announcement of land reform attracted much media coverage. The reform hinges on two major features: first, to allow peasants to engage in unrestricted trade, purchase, and sale of land-use contracts within regulated markets; and second, to extend those contracts to up to 70 years. Combined with other measures, this is intended to increase income in the countryside. However, the reform is much more modest than the celebrated ‘breakthrough’  language accompanying the agreement implies. The basic principle of ownership will remain unchanged. Village committees, controlled by party  cadres, will still own the land and direct its usage rights. Further, the transfer of usage rights is already allowed legally (with some limitations) and has become a common practice in recent years.

After the initial media hype, quiet enveloped the reforms, suggesting hints of discord within the top echelons of the Communist Party. Opponents of the reform had argued that moving closer to land ownership would solidify Western capitalism and thus undermine the party’s authority, while proponents had stressed that improved property rights could improve rural-urban income disparities, appease social unrest, and stem the waves of peasants migrating to the cities.

But even if the party could agree on enhanced  land rights, this would only be a first step. As the Countries at the Crossroads report stated in 2007, those rights would need to be protected by a more independent legal system that can combat governmental corruption and hold police accountable when they use excessive force. Without a reformed legal system, after all, the principles of stability and predictability that the reform hopes to encourage will not develop. Further, village elections – the only level where Chinese citizens can directly vote for their representatives – would need to be more competitive and less influenced by the Communist Party’s control to secure a fair distribution of the land. Reforming the legal system and improving governmental transparency would not only appease 800 million Chinese farmers, but would help this potentially transformative reform move from word to deed.

Photo Credit: Flickr user rentonr