CNN: China: On the brink of a moral crisis?
By Willy Wo-Lap Lam, Senior China Analyst
August 15, 2001 (CNN) -- An essay-writing test in last month's college entrance exam in
China has elicited unexpectedly widespread attention. Students sitting for the Chinese language exam were asked to write on the
significance of chengxin ("honesty and trustworthiness"). The question went like this: "A youth crossing the river on a raft must
throw away one of seven rucksacks he is carrying: "health," "beauty,"
"chengxin," "dexterity," "knowledge," "money" and "honor." "After some deliberation, the youth jettisoned chengxin. What do you think?" The larger question of whether there is chengxin left in Chinese society has
struck such a chord of resonance that numerous teachers, social scientists
and pundits have sounded off in the media. Honesty and trust The chat-room of the People's Daily website has drawn hundreds of response
after it invited readers to comment on "how far we are from [the ideal of]
chengxin." A researcher at the Chinese Academy of Social Sciences (CASS) wrote: "Once
society has lost the sense of honesty and trust, one can't imagine what a
world it will become." Events in the past two months or so have shown the CASS expert's worries are
fully justified. China is on the brink of a chengxin crisis that threatens not only to tear
asunder its moral fabric but derail economic and political reforms. Ironically, the absence of honesty and good faith was best illustrated by a
spate of scandals surrounding the college entrance exam. Liu Qiong, a bright university kid who illegally took the exam for a student
in No. 1 High School in Cao County, Shandong Province, told this story to
the China Youth Daily. 'Flagrant violation'
"I was flabbergasted while taking the Chinese language exam," he said. "I was asked to write about chengxin. Yet the very act of cheating at exams
was a flagrant violation of trust." It turned out that double-dealing was so institutionalized at No. 1 High
School that the headmaster had an elaborate game-plan for engaging outside
help for "needy" students. After the Cao County scam broke, the Education Ministry and the China Youth
Daily have received hundreds of letters and telephone calls from students
and parents giving details of similar monkey business in several provinces. If there are students galore who hoodwink their way into college, there is
no lack of fraudulent diplomas. Fake products Guangdong's Education Department recently found at least one-sixth of
certificates circulating in the province were bogus. In the past month, dozens of government departments have been chasing down
thousands of cases of fake products ranging from liquor and medicine to TV
sets and computers. Health authorities in Guangdong earlier this month confiscated 300 tonnes of
42 different brands of inferior-quality or even poisonous rice. Since February, 470 million yuan worth of counterfeit currencies have been
found. No less serious is the plague of sham statistics, often confected by cadres
to hide shameful deeds and embarrassing incidents. Chinese sickened by the recent spate of fires, explosions, and horrendous
industrial and traffic accidents are even more outraged by efforts by
officials to cover them up. Madman responsible Last March, both domestic and foreign observers were shocked when Premier
Zhu Rongji, deemed a cadre with a high chengxin quotient, claimed a madman
was responsible for the fire that killed 42 school children in a school in
Jiangxi Province. Then came the even more alarming tin mine accident in Nandan county, Guangxi
Province last month, which claimed more than 100 lives. Officials hired thugs to chase away reporters in an attempt to cover up the
disaster, a result of lax safety standards. Indeed, cooking the books has become an ingrained bureaucratic art. To
please superiors or escape punishment, cadres embellish production and other
figures at will. As for officials in Qianjiang city, Hubei Province, they even lied about the
relatively minor phenomenon of pupils quitting school prematurely. A China News Service (CNS) commentator had this to say about the Qianjiang
cadres: "In this day and age, anything can be faked." The profusion of fraudulence and chicanery, however, means much more than
that Chinese having to be extra wary about the quality of products -- or
official statistics. Good faith The lack of chengxin has damaged China's ability to transform itself into a
market-oriented society. Apart from the availability of capital -- and the absence of government
interference -- a market economy presupposes a basic level of
trustworthiness and good faith. For instance, something as fundamental as a credit system can't function if
companies keep deferring loan repayments and consumers don't pay for goods
they have acquired via charge cards. Last weekend, the China Securities Regulatory Commission kicked off a dajia
("stop the fakes") campaign to prevent the stock markets from becoming what
pundits call a "gamblers' paradise." One reason Chinese firms are scared of accession to the World Trade
Organization is that in the eyes of consumers, foreign companies have much
better chengxin track records. Take Chinese insurance companies, which, according to the CNS, are in the
throes of a chengxin crisis because they often fail to honor agreements with
clients. Bribery or connections Is there any doubt that post-WTO, consumers will flock to multinational
insurers? The prevalence of duplicity and bad faith is also the millstone round the
neck of political modernization. Take for instance the large numbers of officials who have secured their
positions through bribery or special connections. In the past month, scandals involving crooks buying posts of mayors and
county chiefs have been reported in areas ranging from coastal Guangdong to
Shanxi in the interior. Analysts have also cast doubt about the chengxin of officials attending the
leadership meetings at the Beidaihe resort. Wholesale changing For example, whatever happened to the pledge, made by top cadres including
President Jiang Zemin at the 15th party congress in 1997, that they would
observe the retire-at-70 rule. Jiang, 75, kept mum when asked by the New York Times last week about his
plans at the upcoming 16th Communist party congress, which should in theory
witness the wholesale changing of the guard. Supporters of Premier Zhu are also disturbed by reports that the 72-year-old
may succumb to lobbying by his followers and agree to stay in a top post for
five more years. Owing to the dearth of chengxin in the media, most Chinese -- including high
school students -- have no means of learning about their leaders'
shenanigans. It is nonetheless instructive to take a look at the essay on chengxin penned
by Nanjing student Jiang Xinjie, which scored an unprecedented full marks. Writing in classical Chinese, Jiang told the story of Chi Tu, the mighty
steed of legendary General Guan Yu in the Period of the Three Kingdoms. After Guan was captured in the year 221, the faithful Chi Tu starved to
death rather than serve another master. Isn't it a pathetic comment on the times that in the eyes of a 17-year-old
student, chengxin could only be found centuries back -- and in a horse? http://asia.cnn.com/2001/WORLD/asiapcf/east/08/14/willy.column/index.html
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