Anything for Power

Jiang Zemin’s days are numbered. It is only a question of when, not if, the former head of the Chinese
Communist Party will be arrested. Jiang officially ran the Chinese regime for more than a decade, and for
another decade he was the puppet master behind the scenes who often controlled events. During those
decades Jiang did incalculable damage to China. At this moment when Jiang’s era is about to end, Epoch
Times here republishes in serial form “Anything for Power: The Real Story of Jiang Zemin,” first
published in English in 2011. The reader can come to understand better the career of this pivotal figure in
today’s China.
Chapter 1: Adoption by a Dead Man: The Lie That Fooled the CCP
When Jiang Zemin was mayor of Shanghai, the word on the street was that Jiang was the incarnation of a
toad. That people there would so readily identify with this idea is most surprising, given that not only is
Shanghai a hi-tech, well-developed city under the direct jurisdiction of the central government, but
moreover the place where Jiang climbed the political ladder. The association later followed Jiang to
Beijing, to which he moved in 1989. Beijing residents took to calling him “Big Toad Jiang.” Jiang does
bear resemblance to a toad, after all. And the association is fairly understandable in light of China’s
cultural context, as similarly blurred boundaries between animal and human reach far back in Chinese
history; many will recall the fox soul that reincarnated as a beautiful concubine and wreaked havoc in the
imperial court. [1] That a toad’s incarnation could become the mayor of Shanghai was not, in a sense, an
entirely new concept.
The toad that had inhaled the wicked, age-old qi was a creature that had depended on water for its
survival. After its death the toad reincarnated in a wealthy family by the name of Jiang, which lived on
Tianjia Lane in Yangzhou City of Jiangsu Province, and was given the name “Zemin,” meaning literally,
“he who survives on water.”
The family Jiang Zemin was born into consisted of a grandfather, Jiang Shixi, a father, Jiang Shijun, a
mother, Wu Yueqing, an older sister, Jiang Zefen, a younger sister, Jiang Zenan, and a younger brother,
Jiang Zekuan.
In 1915 Jiang Shixi, then 45 and a doctor of Chinese medicine, ventured into business and became an
assistant manager at the Yangzhou office of Dadaneihe Shipping Company. After coming to enjoy
prosperity he moved to Tianjia Lane in the city’s Qiongguan District—a suburban residential area for the
wealthy.
Jiang Shixi had seven children, two of whom died young. The sixth child, Jiang Shihou (also named Jiang
Shangqing) joined the Communist Party in 1928 and was killed in war in 1939 at the age of 28. He was
survived by his wife, who was of the same age, and his two daughters, Jiang Zeling and Jiang Zehui. The
fifth child, Jiang Shixiong, died from a stroke at the end of the 1960s during the Cultural Revolution. The
seventh child, Jiang Shufeng, a college teacher in Yangzhou, died in Beijing in November 1993. The
eldest child, Jiang Shijun, turned traitor and sold out his country during the War of Resistance Against
Japan (1937–1945), disgracing the Jiang family name.
A traitor and collaborationist is invariably despised by the public, regardless of who holds power. Jiang
Zemin, the son of Jiang Shijun, thus did everything possible to avoid mention of his father. After
becoming General Secretary of the Chinese Communist Party (CCP), Jiang Zemin promoted his lovers
and confidants, gaining them important posts, all the while turning a blind eye to their corrupt ways. Yet
he would not so much as lift a finger for his biological brothers and sisters and avoided all contact with
them, even to the extent of not acknowledging them.
This incredible fact became known only after the passing of Deng Xiaoping. After gaining power, Jiang
quickly assembled a team of writers to compose his biography. Though the group labored in search of any
accomplishments by Jiang, few were found. And instead much was unearthed that was unknown and
suspicious about Jiang, including his attempt to hide his real background. Furious at the group, Jiang
ordered it immediately dismantled. But Jiang couldn’t seal each of the writer’s lips, and with time word of
his shameful past indeed began to spread.
In November 1940, Jiang Zemin’s father, Jiang Shijun, joined the government of Wang Jingwei in
Nanjing—a traitorous puppet regime of the Japanese. With his name changed to Jiang Guanqian, Shijun
was appointed as a vice-minister in the Ministry of Propaganda of the Wang government and made a head
member of the institution’s editorial committee. He also worked under Hu Lancheng, the main staff writer
of the China Daily and former husband of Zhang Ailing. Along with Zhou Zuoren, Hu was one of the
most notorious traitor-writers in China. Hu later authored History’s Turmoil after leaving China for
Japan, a work in which he specifically mentions collaboration with Jiang Shijun.
So that his eldest son might one day outshine others, Jiang Shijun sent Jiang Zemin to an expensive high
school—Yangzhou High School—and then later to Central University, which was run by Wang Jingwei’s
puppet government; from a young age Jiang Zemin was enrolled in piano lessons. That wealth would
accrue in the Jiang family at that time, and through the dealings of a traitor, no less, was most
extraordinary, for those were the years when ordinary Chinese found it hard just to make ends meet. Jiang
Zemin would live up to his father’s expectations, learning to sing, dance, play musical instruments, and
even know something of Peking and Zhejiang opera.
After coming to power Jiang Zemin returned to his hometown in Yangzhou to pay respect to his
ancestors, spending, all told, some 1.5 million yuan (approximately US$200,000) of state money to
renovate his family’s ancestral tomb. Journalists uncovered something peculiar, however: Jiang kept
talking about his grandfather, Jiang Shixi, while gingerly avoiding any mention of his father, the traitor
Jiang Shijun, though the latter had taken great pains to support him.
The Communist Party has always accorded importance to a person’s family background and never
hesitated to peg a person’s “class category.” So it was that Jiang Zemin, aspiring to climb the Communist
Party ladder, from day one would write the name of Jiang Shangqing—the uncle who was only 15 years
his senior—when filling out forms asking the name of his father. For one thing, Jiang Shangqing had
participated in the revolution, while furthermore, as a deceased man and a martyr, hardly could he make
political mistakes. His name was, as Jiang saw it, the safest bet. Jiang Zemin thus audaciously
transformed himself from the offspring of a traitor into the “son of a revolutionary martyr.” Ever since,
Jiang sought to constantly deepen ties with his widowed aunt, Wang Zhelan, by way of frequent visits and
gifts.
Jiang Zemin was not in fact admitted to the famed Yangzhou Middle School after completing elementary
school. Rather, he was admitted merely to a county-level junior high school in Jiangdu—a matter which,
in fact, left Jiang feeling depressed. It was in his second year of schooling that he transferred to Yangzhou
Middle School, a move made possible by his well-connected father. It was similarly through the
maneuvering of his father that Jiang later managed to study at Central University; the school was, as
noted, run by the puppet Japanese regime to which Jiang’s father was connected. It was then that Jiang
realized power and money get things done. Soon after, however, Jiang discovered much to his
disappointment that China’s nationalist government did not recognize Wang Jingwei’s puppet regime and
its university; this in effect nullified Jiang’s education there. This stemmed from the fact that China’s
prestigious Nanjing Central University had actually been relocated by the nationalist government to its
resistance base in southwestern China. The so-called “Central University” in Nanjing City that Jiang
attended, despite what its name would suggest, was a school rigged together by Wang Jingwei’s puppet
government, and not the real Nanjing University.
Not long after Jiang Zemin became General Secretary of the CCP in 1989, Nanjing University in Jiangsu
Province found while sorting through files of past students that Jiang Zemin had studied at one of its
predecessors—Central University—from 1943 to 1945. They came across Jiang’s academic transcript and
library card. Delighted over their findings, the university’s alumni association was most eager to send
Jiang a friendly letter of association. Jiang never replied, however, much to the university’s dismay. This
suggests that Jiang not only guarded closely his family background, treating it as secret, but furthermore
chose to keep silent about his education lest he be found out.
During his inspection tour of Jiangsu Province in the early 1990s, Jiang Zemin paid a special visit to
Nanjing University. [2] The school took special care to place on Jiang’s itinerary the dormitory where he
had stayed in his college years. Upon arriving at the building, Jiang stopped and stared at the dorm,
apparently lost in thought. Silence filled the air as all present stood by, waiting. The university’s
administrators didn’t dare to come forward and remind Jiang, “This is where you once stayed when you
were a student here. We have maintained it well.” Jiang lacked his usual bravado that day, keeping
uncharacteristically quiet.
While president of China, Jiang showed a penchant for impromptu theatrics while on overseas state visits.
His flare for showmanship, naturally, traces back to none other than his wealthy upbringing: his family,
contrary to Jiang’s claims, had the money to support his study of many a musical instrument, be it piano
or guitar. By contrast, life was hard for uncle Jiang Shangqing’s widow and daughters. The second
daughter, Jiang Zehui, told Kuhn (the nominal author of The Man Who Changed China), “For the first 11
years of my life all I remember is unending want and deprivation. Our family had little to eat, sometimes
no food at all.” [3]
Jiang Zehui’s words undermine the biography’s claim that Jiang Zemin was adopted. Born in March
1938, Jiang Zehui was 11 years younger than Jiang Zemin. If for a moment we accept that Jiang Zemin
was adopted by a dead man, then Jiang Zehui would have been merely one year old at the time of Jiang
Zemin’s “adoption.” If, as the book alleges, the family of Jiang Shijun was really so kind as to lend a
hand to his brother’s widow, then how is it that the widow’s daughter, Jiang Zehui, relates that they
“sometimes had no food at all” to feed their family? Or, given that Jiang Shijun knew his sister-in-law
could scarcely feed her own children, logically he should have adopted the two nieces rather than having
his sister-in-law adopt his own son (Jiang Zemin). Would he really have sent his son over to their family
to experience hunger? Something here doesn’t add up.
Jiang Zemin is both the eldest son and the eldest grandson in the Jiang family. He has an elder sister,
Jiang Zefen, and a younger brother, Jiang Zekuan. According to Chinese tradition and rules of
inheritance, under normal circumstances neither the eldest son nor the eldest grandson can be put up for
adoption.
More puzzling still is the alleged adoption ceremony Jiang Zemin later contrived. Not only were
protocols from Western society clumsily included in the story (e.g., something like a 13-year-old Jiang
rising to embrace Jiang Shangqing’s widow who, notably, was only 13 years older than Jiang), but also
Kuhn writes in his book: “‘I wish his [adopted] son to follow his [new] father,’ Jiang Shijun said at the
time, ‘and take revenge upon the evil enemy.’ The boy was 13.” [4]
The absurdity of such a claim should be obvious. Jiang Shijun swore his allegiance to the puppet regime
of Wang Jingwei, whereas Jiang Shangqing was a “communist martyr.” Would Jiang Shangqing’s “evil
enemy” also include Wang Jingwei’s traitorous government and therefore Jiang Shijun himself? Jiang
Shangqing died in 1939 when the CCP, not yet a major force, was referred to as “communist bandits.”
The last thing Jiang Shijun, himself disloyal, wanted was to have any involvement with the “communist
bandits.” How could he instead offer to send his son to a dead communist for adoption and to take
revenge on himself?
What Jiang Zehui, Jiang Zemin’s cousin, said about the “adoption” during her interview with Kuhn
proves even more incredible. Kuhn writes:
“For the rest of his life, President Jiang would call his biological mother ‘Mama’ and his adoptive mother
‘Niang,'” explained Jiang Zehui. “In our culture, both mean ‘mother.’ However, there is a subtle
difference in terms of intimacy and closeness. ‘Niang’ is a little more intimate, a closer term of
endearment.” [5]
Kuhn goes on to explain in more detail that, “The difference between the two terms is akin to the one in
English between Mother and Mom.” [6]
The fact of the matter is, people in Yangzhou call mother “Muma” or “Amu.” Never does somebody there
call his or her mother “Niang.” True, decades ago there were people who called their wives “my Niangzi”
in Yangzhou, but no one there—not a single soul—has ever called his or her mother “Niang.” This
passage in Kuhn’s book further confirms that it is highly unlikely Jiang Zemin was ever the adopted son
of Jiang Shangqing’s widow.
Jiang Zehui also told Kuhn, “To understand President Jiang Zemin, one must appreciate his adoptive
father, my real father, Jiang Shangqing.” [7] What revolting words. As Jiang Shangqing was actively
involved in the communist revolution, he seldom had the chance to see Jiang Zemin. Other family
members didn’t agree with Jiang Shangqing’s activities. After Jiang Shangqing was arrested, the court
defense from the Jiang family was that “Shangqing was only a youth enticed to go astray.” [8] And Jiang
Zemin was merely a teenager then. What possible influence could Jiang Shangqing have had on him?
When the team of writers appointed by Jiang Zemin found inconsistencies in his family background, a
panicked Jiang compensated by using his political power to convince the public he had been adopted by
his “martyred” uncle, Jiang Shangqing, at the age of 13. A slew of memoirs and biographies were issued,
cementing the claim.
Perhaps most absurd was one article, titled “A Martyr’s Wife and Her Pledge to Raise an Orphan,” [9]
carried in the October 2002 issue of The Life of the CCP’s Guangdong Branch—a Party monthly
sponsored by the Organizational Department of the CCP’s Provincial Party Committee in Guangdong,
headed by Jiang Zemin’s close follower and Guangdong Party chief, Li Changchun. Circulation of that
issue reached nearly 2 million, emphatically driving home the message that Jiang Zemin was “a martyr’s
foster child.”
One month later, at the CCP’s 16th Congress in November 2002, Li Changchun, the man credited with
issuing the phony accounts of Jiang’s past, was promoted to membership in the CCP’s elite Standing
Committee of the Politburo. One year later, MediaInChina.com reported that The Life of the CCP’s
Guangdong Branch was taken out of circulation on Nov. 29, 2003, on the opinion of a steering office
responsible for supervising Party and government newspapers and publications.
Li Changchun spared no effort backing Jiang up in order to advance his own career, while Kuhn claims in
the Chinese version of his book that the “adoption” went through legal proceedings. It would seem that
they thought the most effective way to fool the public would be to mention “legal proceedings” that Jiang
supposedly went through. But Jiang forgot something: in the 1930s, the head of a family clan held all the
decision-making power, and an adoption didn’t require any legal papers since there were no such laws
existing at the time.
Jiang Zemin didn’t stop at having his parentage alone changed: he felt he needed confirmation from
Wang Zhelan, his widowed aunt and “adopted mother,” and her family. Jiang knew the need for investing
in them materially, so he began visiting his aunt from time to time. Never did he visit with empty hands,
however. Jiang always brought gifts, pleasantly surprising both mother and daughters. People have
feelings, and as such are prone, naturally, to feigning naïveté where others might wish it. And in this
instance, Jiang’s lies about his parentage stood only to benefit Wang Zhelan and her family.
For Jiang Zemin, having “from a martyr’s family” in his dossier was not the ultimate goal. That
background alone would benefit him little. He needed the patronage of certain high-ranking officials in
order to advance further politically. It was for this reason that Jiang began to seek out senior communists
affiliated with Jiang Shangqing.
In 1982, Jiang Zemin, then Deputy Director of China’s Import and Export Commission, was thrilled to
learn that the Vice Premier of the State Council, Zhang Aiping, had once worked for the CCP’s special
committee of northeastern Anhui Province. Jiang then proceeded to find out what Zhang Aiping’s hobbies
and interests were. When Jiang discovered that Zhang Aiping loved calligraphy, he came up with an idea
that would cater to Zhang’s likes.
Once, at the end of a meeting, Zhang Aiping heard someone call from behind “Vice Premier Zhang!” He
turned and discovered that it was Jiang Zemin, the Deputy Director of China’s Import and Export
Commission. Zhang had met previously with Jiang a few times for work-related matters. Jiang quickened
his steps to catch up with Zhang, and asked carefully, “Do you still remember Jiang Shangqing?” “Of
course I do. We were good friends,” replied Zhang. “How regrettable he died young.” Jiang, assuming a
reflective look, raised his voice an octave and said, “He was my foster father!” So startled was Zhang
Aiping by the sudden and outlandish remark that he was rendered speechless.
Zhang Aiping had met Jiang Shangqing during the War of Resistance Against Japan; Jiang had been
dispatched by the CCP to work with Zhang on the Special Committee of Northeastern Anhui Province.
Jiang Shangqing died at age 28 in 1939 when Zhang Aiping was 29. Jiang Zemin, knowing now that
Zhang Aiping was skilled in calligraphy, sought the honor of General Zhang’s handwriting, wishing to
place it on Jiang Shangqing’s new tombstone. The scheme was so effective that it not only evoked tears
from Wang Zhelan and her two daughters, but furthermore convinced Zhang Aiping that Jiang was
indeed his best friend’s “adopted son.”
Everyone knows Jiang Zemin owed his post as Mayor of Shanghai to Wang Daohan, who had
recommended Jiang for the position owing to Jiang’s claim that he was Jiang Shangqing’s adopted son. In
the early period of the War of Resistance Against Japan, or the “period of cooperation between the
Communists and Nationalists,” as it is also called, Jiang Shangqing was Wang Daohan’s immediate
superior. At the time, Jiang Shangqing, a communist, was charged with the task of forming a “united
front” [10] with the local government and local armed forces of the Nationalist Party in Anhui, and for his
efforts won recognition from Sheng Zijin, the Commissioner and Commander of Security of the Sixth
Administrative District of the Nationalist government in Anhui. One of the things Jiang Shangqing did
was to assign a group of undercover communists from Shanghai and Jiangsu to all county-level
administrations under Sheng Zijin. Wang Daohan was one of them.
When Jiang Zemin worked in the No.1 Automobile Plant in Changchun City, Wang Daohan was the
deputy minister of the First Ministry of Machinery Industry. After Jiang learned of the connection
between Wang Daohan and Jiang Shangqing, he kept close to Wang and referred to him as his
“benevolent teacher.” With Wang’s guidance and support, Jiang’s political career was smooth and
uneventful. And yet after Jiang gained supreme power in China, he traveled to Shanghai to see all of his
patrons except for, of all people, Wang Daohan. For this he was harshly rebuked in Shanghai as “a mean
fish with no conscience.”
Jiang Zemin wasn’t content, however, with the connections he had forged with Wang Daohan and Zhang
Aiping. He was determined not to overlook any stepping stone to his advancement.
When Zhao Ziyang was head of the Communist Party, Jiang Zemin found that he lacked opportunities to
ingratiate himself with Zhao, and so began to try other, more roundabout ways, to approach him. One
such attempt was Jiang’s getting to know Zhao’s secretaries; one such scandal, in which Jiang turned a
Zhao secretary into his “hometown kin,” became a standing joke at Zhongnanhai. A former military
leader of the CCP’s Central Military Commission, General Hong Xuezhi, was originally from Jinzhai, in
Anhui Province. Jiang let it be known to Hong that he, too, was from Anhui, and hence shared the same
hometown. Tailoring his words however stands to benefit him is perhaps as much as anything the
hallmark of Jiang Zemin’s political life.
As Jiang Zemin wormed his way ever higher politically, so grew his fear that his true background would
be revealed. Never would he mention his biological father, and deliberately he distanced himself from his
own sister and brother, hiding their relations. Jiang’s elder sister was labeled a “Rightist” [11] during the
CCP’s purge of intellectuals in the 1950s, and sent back to her hometown, disgraced, to survive on eight
yuan a month. [12] Fearing his traitorous family background would be exposed, Jiang didn’t dare to
extend even his own sister loving care. According to Kuhn, Jiang at that time sent more than 10 yuan to
each of his two cousins (the children of Jiang Shangqing) every month; [13] nothing, however, was given
to his sister.
After moving into Zhongnanhai Jiang Zemin showed a flair for nepotism, as witnessed in the treatment he
extended his two cousins. Consider the case of the Shiming Bilingual School in Yangzhou, which enrolls
students from kindergarten through high school; it is one of the largest and best-equipped schools in
Yangzhou. While publicly it appears to be sponsored by the Red Cross of China, behind the scenes it is
run by Jiang Shangqing’s elder daughter, Jiang Zeling. For confirmation one only need note that the
school’s official website bears Jiang Zemin’s inscriptions. Of a similar nature was how a bank, acting
upon a directive from Jiang Zemin, once provided a loan to Tai Zhan, Jiang Zeling’s son, for his business
without asking Tai for the necessary guarantees such as real estate, personal property, etc. as dictated by
the Chinese Law of Guarantee.
Even more unscrupulous has Jiang Zemin proved in promoting Jiang Zehui, Jiang Shangqing’s second
daughter, to high positions. According to official reports, Jiang Zehui sprung from a lecturer at Anhui
Agricultural University to Deputy Director of the Standing Committee of the People’s Congress in Anhui
Province and President as well as Party Chief of Anhui Agricultural University. Soon after she shot
through the ranks yet again, landing the position of President at China Institute of Forestry and becoming
a member of the Party Committee at China’s State Bureau of Forestry. Other titles she has held include:
Member of the Chinese People’s Political Consultative Conference (CPPCC); Deputy Director of the
Committee on Population, Resources and Environment at the CPPCC; Member of the Standing
Committee of China Association for Science and Technology; Director of the Working Committee on
Popularization of Science; Member of the Committee on Academic Degrees of the State Council; CoChair of the Board of the International Organization on Bamboo and Vine; President of the China Floral
Society; President of the China Society of Bamboo Industry; and President of the China Federation of
Forestry, among others.
When Jiang Shangqing died, his three-year-old daughter, Jiang Zeling, and one-year-and-four-month old
daughter, Jiang Zehui, had only a vague knowledge of their father. The two sisters understood full well
that not all of the offspring of the CCP’s “revolutionary martyrs” could rise to high positions. Their
father, Jiang Shangqing, benefited them little in their lives, and in the years after his passing the two
nearly lived in starvation. Jiang Zemin, on the other hand, fully exploited the background of their father
for his own personal gain, using it to connect to senior officials like Wang Daohan and Zhang Aiping and
climb the career ladder, indebted to their bolstering. Little could the two sisters have imagined the status
they enjoy today had Jiang Zemin not buried the truth about his family background. The honor their
father reaped as a “revolutionary martyr” was fully exploited by cousin Jiang Zemin. It is for this reason
that the two have voluntarily exercised “self-restraint” and spoken and acted however Jiang Zemin
wishes.
But often, as life would have it, lies and tricks are exposed when a person gets carried away. On one
occasion a few friends were chatting with Jiang Zehui, and one said, “You’re so lucky to have a brother
like Jiang Zemin. Look at what he has brought you.”
Jiang Zehui replied, “You’re mistaken. He is the one who’s lucky. He advanced so fast because he had
our family behind him. Without our family he would have been branded one of the ‘five black
categories.'” [14] One of the friends then asked shyly, “Wasn’t he adopted by your mother?” Jiang Zehui
answered, “Life was so hard for us back then. My mother had even hoped relatives would take us in. How
on earth could she have adopted other people’s kids? What’s more, his family was rich, ours was poor.
They didn’t even want to see us in those days. Only later did it change, when they discovered we could be
made use of… Who benefited from whom, then? We know full well.”
Even if we just consider history as Jiang Zemin himself writes it inconsistencies abound. To cover up his
traitorous family background, Jiang claimed that he was actively involved in “revolutionary activities”
and the patriotic movement while a student in elementary and high school. But the fact is, Jiang was busy
instead pursuing, thanks to his father’s wealth, hobbies like music, chess, calligraphy, and painting. When
the time came for college, Jiang, in a move rather unbefitting a patriot, did not go to the former Central
University that had been relocated to western China but instead to the Central University in Nanjing—an
institution run by the puppet Japanese government. His excuse was that doing so he would “rescue China”
through the study of science there. If his intention was to depict himself as someone who wanted to save
China with science and who was disinterested in politics, then such a claim is at odds with the depiction
in Kuhn’s new biography, which claims that Jiang was an enthusiastic participant in the CCP’s
underground activities at the school and later joined the Party and became a CCP activist in Shanghai. Yet
none of the numerous “revolutionary events” that Kuhn’s book alleges Jiang Zemin to have participated
in can be verified. For example, what of the well-known “June 23rd demonstration” against Jiang Jieshi
[15] that was organized by the CCP? It was on that day in 1946 that communists Zhou Enlai, Wu
Xueqian, Qiao Shi, and Qian Qichen led a large march in Shanghai of more than 50,000 people hailing
from some 300 groups and organizations. But to this day no records of any sort have been found or
witnesses of any type come forward that would prove Jiang Zemin, then an “underground communist,”
had taken part in the march or been assigned to the event in some CCP capacity.
Jiang Zemin’s “revolutionary experiences” have been engineered in whatever way best suits his needs.
It was the arrangements of history that dictated an ignoble parentage for the clown, just as it was history
that allowed him to rise to power by force of deception and hypocrisy. And so it will be that, when history
should choose to discard him, it shall prepare witnesses of that era to lay bare all the hidden details
surrounding him and his career, such that a warning may be given to the generations to come. Thus is the
will of Heaven.
____________________
Notes:
[1] A reference to a well-known Chinese legend from the Shang Dynasty in which a fox-spirit was sent to the human world, in the
form of a beautiful concubine, to bewitch King Zhou, a tyrant. Enraptured with, and heavily influenced by, the concubine, the king
neglected his official duties and grew increasingly cruel, causing his officials to turn against him. Legend holds that it was this
matter that brought about the dynasty’s downfall.
[2] The name Nanjing University is an abridgement of the school’s former name, Nanjing Central University, and was renamed as
such after the CCP gained control of China in 1949.
[3] Robert Lawrence Kuhn, The Man Who Changed China: The Life and Legacy of Jiang Zemin (New York: Crown, 2004), 32.
[4] Kuhn, The Man Who Changed China, 31. Also noteworthy is the telling oversight in Kuhn’s quote: it appears that the first “his”
is in reference to Jiang Shangqing, while the second “his,” in fact, alludes to Jiang Zemin.
[5] Ibid., 31.
[6] Ibid., 31.
[7] Ibid., 31.
[8] This sentence appears only in the Chinese version of Kuhn’s book.
[9] The “orphan” in this case refers to Jiang Zemin, whose uncle had died.
[10] A favorable, temporary political alliance that would forward the CCP’s goals. The CCP has strategically used similar “un ited
fronts,” often manipulative, over the years.
[11] As used in post-revolution China, the term refers to non-Communist figures or those not closely in keeping with Maoist
thought.
[12] Approximately one U.S. dollar.
[13] Kuhn, The Man Who Changed China, 69.
[14] Referring to the CCP’s labeling of five pariah groups, i.e., landlords, rich peasants, reactionaries, bad elements, and rightists.
These were to be the targets of attack in various political campaigns.
[15] Also known as Chiang Kai-shek—the former leader of the Nationalists (KMT) who moved to, and later ruled, Taiwan after
losing to the CCP several key battles in mainland China.
Jiang Zemin likes to give people the impression he is skilled at song and dance. He can play several
musical instruments, among which are the piano, the erhu, and the guitar. Such is Jiang’s drive to show
off musical ability that he often loses sight of propriety. One such occasion was March 30, 1999, the date
on which Jiang visited Mozart’s hometown of Salzburg accompanied by the President of Austria, Thomas
Klestil. The most valuable item in Mozart’s former residence was a Vienna piano that was purchased by
the maestro himself in 1785. After the president introduced the 200-year-old antique, Jiang dashed to the
piano, plopped down on its stool, and opened the piano, eager to play. Now, had he played some of
Mozart’s representative works, such as Don Giovanni or Marriage of Figaro, the scene could have been
read as one of fond reminiscence or even tribute. But Jiang, much to everyone’s surprise, started to play,
rather inappropriately, a Chinese song—”Wave Upon Wave in the Honghu Lake.” [1] President Klestil,
visibly uncomfortable, clearly wished not to let Jiang touch the maestro’s precious antique but was bound
by diplomatic etiquette to stand aside. Jiang obliviously played on, casting all the while furtive glances at
the several Chinese dames then present, hoping to win their admiration.
Intoxicated by his own show of musical prowess—a spell that drove him even to play Mozart’s grand
piano—Jiang hardly seemed to realize that in his antics was suggested the true history he shared with his
father: two generations of treachery.
A family that could afford piano lessons, much less sending their child to a private high school and then
Nanjing Central University, during the years of Wang Jingwei’s puppet regime (1940-1944) was anything
but typical.
Jiang Zemin’s father, Jiang Shijun, went to seek refuge in Nanjing in 1940. At that time the puppet
government was run by three magnates: Wang Jingwei, Chen Gongbo, and Zhou Fohai. Among the three,
Chen Gongbo and Zhou Fohai had both been founders of the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) and
members of the CCP’s 1st Congress; both had ranked higher in the CCP than even Mao Zedong.
When in 1940 Wang Jingwei set up the puppet Japanese government in Nanjing, he was in need of much
manpower and a range of talents, from ministers to clerks. It was for this reason that brazen intellectuals,
crooked merchants, jobless has-been politicians, and former officials swarmed to Wang. Wang’s Nanjing
residence was crowded in those days with cars of every sort, from trendy streamlined 1940s models in
gray, blue, red, or green, to old-fashioned black and white cars with a sleeping spot. Visitors came from
luxurious mansions along the Qinhuai River, from Xuanwu Lake in Nanjing, from West Lake in
Hangzhou, from Shanghai, Suzhou, Wuxi, and Yangzhou. They gathered in Nanjing from all directions,
appearing almost out of nowhere. Thus it was that the dregs of society gained the upper hand and vied
fiercely to get ahead, seizing the opportunity afforded by Wang’s regime. Shamelessly they curried favor
with the powerful. Among them was an intellectual figure from the business community named Jiang
Shijun.
Jiang Shijun was a slick opportunist who played to the rich and the powerful. In those years the invading
Japanese army was strong militarily, attacking China in the northeast, due north, and center and pressing
all the way to Shanghai, Wuhan, and Guangzhou. Soon afterwards Hong Kong, Manila, and the South
Pacific islands fell in turn to Japan. While towards the end of 1941 Japanese Admiral Yamamoto Isoroku
had wiped out the bulk of the United States’ naval fleet and air force in Pearl Harbor, the central
government of Chinese Nationalist (KMT) leader Chiang Kai-shek was using old Hanyang rifles and
broadswords to fight Japanese airplanes and tanks. Many Chinese believed that the loss of national
independence was imminent and thus sought work with the invading Japanese. Meanwhile Jiang Shijun,
ever the shrewd businessman, was busy taking precautions lest the KMT stage a comeback and someday
defeat the Japanese; he feared his work for the Japanese could come back to haunt him. Thus reasoning,
Jiang abandoned his original name in favor of the alias “Jiang Guanqian.”
Both literature and electrical engineering were hobbies for Jiang Shijun, and he devoted much time to the
two pursuits. Jiang Shijun had also made a careful study of Nazi propaganda tactics and took especially to
Leni Riefenstahl’s documentary film, Triumph of the Will; the film is famous for casting Hitler, through
the sophisticated use of artistic techniques and religious motifs, as almost a divine figure. In the first few
years after Hitler came to power, Germany’s GDP grew rapidly, doubling annually—a feat which seemed
indeed a “triumph of the will.” Riefenstahl directed another film, Olympia, which documented the 1936
Nazi Summer Olympics and strategically turned the games into what has been called a “fascist
ceremony.” The artistry of the films managed to entrance countless German youths.
Jiang Shijun was in charge of daily operations in the Ministry of Propaganda of the puppet central
government, and in this capacity applied in the form of fascist propaganda all that he had painstakingly
gleaned from his extracurricular readings. Well did Jiang understand the power of media. Although he
was busy with his job every day, Jiang always found time to “earnestly and tirelessly” teach his son Jiang
Zemin. When many witnessed Jiang Zemin shut down the liberal World Economic Herald in advance of
the 1989 Tiananmen Square Massacre, they took the closing, quite wrongly, to be fortuitous. Rather, the
incident bespoke of just how well Jiang Zemin knew the power of media—a weapon he had come to
understand before he was even 15 years old. His maneuvering ahead of the Massacre merely reflected that
he had absorbed many propaganda theories from the Party, become increasingly politically adept, and
come to have ever more opportunities to put those theories and lessons into practice as he climbed the
ladder of the CCP hierarchy.
Jiang Shijun single-handedly organized a so-called “Exhibition of Military Successes in the Pacific
Region of the Great Crusade in East Asia” in which he applied the propaganda techniques he had learned
and his knowledge of electrical engineering so as to depict, fully with sound and light effects, air and
naval warfare between the U.S. and Japan. The scenes vividly simulated Japanese troops opening fire and
downing U.S. planes, which landed with a crash. A huge oil painting—”Striking Pearl Harbor”—
occupied an entire wall in the exhibition hall. In the painting battle clouds covered the sky as Zero Fighter
planes dived down, took off, and landed like a swarm of mosquitoes, suggesting the Japanese army’s
Bushido spirit and symbolizing the “permanent military power” the army enjoyed, having been blessed by
the goddess Amaterasu Omikami. Through all of this the audience would be given the impression that the
Japanese invaders were unconquerable and would forever occupy China; “annihilation” of the United
Kingdom and “destruction” of the United States seemed just around the corner.
Along with this Jiang Shijun helped plan the production of A Legacy That Will Live Forever, a movie the
goal of which was to bash Britain and America. Using a large sum of money Jiang solicited the help of a
famous director and further invited movie star Gao Zhanfei to play the part of Qing dynasty official Lin
Zexu. The effort masticated history as we know it so as to suit the needs of the Japanese forces and incite
hatred against the United States.
Jiang Shijun also learned to employ folk-style propaganda, and found in it means to falsely suggest peace
and prosperity in the aftermath of, and so as to help people forget, the terrible Nanjing Massacre [2] of
only a few years before. One telling example is how he reworked a Buddhist folk tradition, the Feast of
All Souls Festival, for his own purposes. Jiang organized one year a grand version of the festival that had,
as usual, lanterns floated on local waters, but with this time newspapers making much fanfare of the lotus
lanterns and flowers floating atop the green waves of the Qinhuai River and Xuanwu Lake. Nanjing
residents flocked to the shores and to the Temple of Confucius to enjoy the sight. Spectators taking in the
scene unwittingly played into Jiang’s hand, being anaesthetized and thus misled, as it were, to the grim
historical realities, so recent still, perpetrated at the hands of the Japanese regime.
The propaganda department Jiang Shijun headed composed popular songs for children, knowing full well
that brainwashing should start with the young. Jiang thus used lyrics such as “The sword is as powerful as
lightening, the spirit as lofty as the rainbow—let us fight for prosperity” to teach children that killing was
acceptable and war a valid means to prosperity and power. Meanwhile, lyrics like “Traveling thousands
of miles, the wind blowing fierce” sought to extol the invading Japanese army for having surmounted
countless challenges while advancing into Asia and traveling so far, amidst adversity, while bravely
sacrificing their lives for the “liberation” of East Asia. He published a children’s picture book, titled “A
History of British and American Aggression Against China,” intending to stir up hatred toward the two
nations while eulogizing the “Greater East Asia Co-Prosperity Sphere” [3] and promoting the idea of
“Together make great efforts, people of Asia, to annihilate Britain and destroy America and meet with
complete success.”
Jiang Zemin matured relatively early, one could say, following closely Jiang Shijun’s steps in his youth.
And it was at an early age that Jiang Zemin learned from his father the tactics of brainwashing. With a
nature predisposed to scheming, young Jiang quickly picked up his father’s tricks, even at the slightest
hint. Today those lessons find expression in a CCP that has exhausted the nation’s resources so as to build
up but four token cities—Beijing, Shanghai, Shenzhen, and Guangzhou—which are marked, fittingly, by
debauchery and the life of luxury and dissipation. Celebrity singers, movie stars, and star comedians have
each gone on the air to pitch in, building up the “Grand Celebration of the Great Prosperous Era.” [4] But
consider that the United Nations defines the standard of poverty as an average annual income less than
US$365, or about 3,000 yuan a person. China, then, where the average annual income of some 900
million peasants is but a mere 2,620 yuan, has nearly 1 billion people living in poverty. And then there
are roughly 30 million urban unemployed and their families. One wonders if these groups would
themselves, were it not for the hunger they face, almost buy into the dazzling image of a prosperous
China, so inundated they are (as Chinese) with this message. All of this traces back to the seeds of
propaganda strategy sown early in Jiang Zemin by his fascist, traitor father. Seeds, that is, nurtured by the
CCP’s foul waters and Jiang Zemin’s deadly knack for propaganda. Seeds that have, to the detriment of a
people, with time matured, sprouted, and born fruit.
After gaining control over the Party, the government, and the military, Jiang Zemin promoted his close
friend, Chen Zhili, to Minister of Education with the intent of brainwashing China’s youth. Most telling
was the incredible decision under Chen to exclude such cultural icons as Yue Fei and Wen Tianxiang
from the ranks of “national heroes” while including, and thus honoring, Qin Hui—a notorious traitor.
Borrowing a page from Triumph of the Will, Jiang saw to it that US$30 million was put into Zhang
Yimou’s movie Hero—a film that artistically, with brilliant scenery and martial arts chorography, does
nothing less than glorify China’s infamous tyrant, the First Emperor of Qin. The movie premiered, in fact,
in the Great Hall of the People, suggesting its political significance. The combination of his father’s
influence and propaganda tactics gleaned from the CCP made Jiang Zemin an even more skilled a
propagandist than his father; and the money son Jiang spent on propaganda was of course far greater. The
deceit of Jiang Shijun hardly compares with that of Jiang Zemin, be it in scope or depth.
Jiang Zemin has long been fond of the luscious scenery and life of opulence found alongside the Qinhuai
River. The invading Japanese army for political purposes made a celebrity of Japanese actress Li
Xianglan, known as the “Imperial Flower”—a beautiful and artistically gifted woman. Many a song Li
sang enjoyed popularity all across China, including numbers such as “When Will You Come Again,”
“The Fragrance of Night,” “A Song of Peddling Candy,” and “Singing and Dancing Tonight.” The
significance of Li’s success lay in its enchanting effect. Singing in the Japanese-occupied territory, Li’s
sweet voice and the enrapturing scenery she conjured lulled China’s citizenry into forgetfulness, making
long-distant the massacre of only a few years before. And it was Li that played the lead role in the movie
Chinese Nights and made the movie’s theme song a hit; the movie told the story of a Chinese girl who fell
deeply in love with the Japanese soldier who had physically beaten her. Such meticulous thought
manipulation as the use of sweet songs and beautiful women made a deep impression on Jiang Zemin. So
it was that Jiang, later in life, instructed state-run China Central Television (CCTV) to open its annual
Spring Festival Gala with a politically-engineered song by Song Zuying. Obvious was his motive.
Jiang Zemin has always had trouble keeping pretty ladies off his mind, with Li Xianglan being no
exception. In 1991 the Japanese Shiki Theatre Company visited China to perform a rather politicallyloaded musical, called Ri Koran. Li Xianglan, who was 71 at the time, had planned to personally come to
China to attend the closing performance in Dalian City. Li had to cancel her trip in the end, owing to
health complications. Jiang Zemin long felt pained by her absence and regretted missing a chance to talk
with the woman who was once most every man’s fantasy.
Then, returning to the matter of Jiang Zemin’s father, Jiang Shijun used to make an annual show of
cultural patronage by holding a grand ceremony in honor of Confucius. He would orchestrate a
performance consisting of, as prescribed by Confucian doctrine, “eight rows of dancers”; follow the rites
as prescribed for a king in the Book of Rites and offer the Three Sacrifices of pork, beef, and lamb; and
after the ceremonies mince the Three Sacrifices and send them to officials in the ministries and bureaus of
the puppet Japanese government. Jiang Zemin has in this regard followed close in his father’s footsteps,
having been keen on promoting what is seemingly China’s “traditional culture” for purposes of glorifying
the ruling Chinese Communist Party.
The special agents of the invading Japanese army were headed up by a general named Kenji Doihara, and
his right-hand man was Ding Mocun. Ding had gained acceptance, and, in turn, his position, with the
Japanese upon submitting a strategic “Plan for special agents in Shanghai.” He created a secret police
headquarters at 76 Jessfield Road (now Wanhangdu Road) in Shanghai. Ding was the director of the
facility, while Li Shiqun served as its deputy director. As early as 1939 Ding was a member of the Central
Committee as well as the Central Standing Committee of the Nationalist party—a position equivalent to
membership in the CCP Politburo. He was also Minister of the Department of Social Affairs in the puppet
government, a position similar to a Minister of National Security with the CCP.
Jiang Shijun hoped much for his son’s success. He knew well that only those who had served as special
agents, such as Ding Mocun, would be trusted or promoted in rank by the Japanese army and enjoy good
prospects for the future. When Ding was looking for a location in which to rebuild Nanjing Central
University on behalf of the puppet government, he was determined to prevent any students hostile toward
Japan from being educated in a Japanese-run university. It was thus a top priority for Jiang Shijun to train
some “specialized students” who could blend in with regular students and thereby monitor them; in this
capacity they could spot any traces of anti-Japanese sentiment or activities and have arrested and removed
those involved. It was in this vein that Jiang established the “Nanjing University Young Leaders Training
Session.” Borrowing a page from the tactics of the invading Japanese army, Jiang selected youngsters
from among the sons, daughters, and next-generation offspring of high-ranking officials. The training,
begun from a young age, would enable the youths to handle calmly, almost by nature, any crisis that
should arise and respond properly to any emerging issues. The traitors in the ministries and bureaus of the
Wang Jingwei puppet government bent over backwards to place their children in the training sessions,
knowing what the opportunity would mean for their futures.
Ding Mocun conducted four such training sessions with varying numbers of participants each time. Jiang
Shijun seized the opportunity of the sessions and strongly made the case for his son, Jiang Zemin, to
attend the training; his argument was that young Jiang was a special talent who was adept at espionage.
Interestingly, the special agents also took political classes alongside those courses providing training in
technical subjects, effecting something of a brainwashing program. All special agents were forbidden
from having any mainstream religious beliefs. Nietzsche, the man who once claimed “God is dead” and
who did much to advance the cause of atheism, thus made for a perfect read and became part of the
agents’ indoctrination. After Germany, Italy, and Japan formed the Axis Powers they exchanged
information gathered on special agents. One finding was that Nietzsche’s depraved thought was
considered “cutting edge” by those involved in espionage, being easily adapted to an agent’s evolving
professional needs.
Jiang Zemin attended the fourth training session. The session was held under the auspices of Nanjing
Central University and taught by professors familiar with the relevant subjects in conjunction with special
agents. After completing the session a student would be admitted directly to Central University, and so it
was that Jiang enrolled. Jiang chose electrical engineering as his major. The subject of course had
something to do with his father’s hobby, but gained particular interest for Jiang in that his father’s
“Exhibition of Military Successes in the Pacific Region of the Great Crusade in East Asia” had captured
his imagination and held him rapt.
Jiang Zemin was not only exempted from paying tuition, but further received a stipend. He led an
extravagant life in college, often visiting whorehouses with a band of shady friends who sucked up to the
rich and powerful. Jiang grew corrupt early due to his capacity as a special agent, explaining, in part, why
he visited, and easily knew how to find, prostitutes on his first business trip to the United States as
Minister of the Electronics Industry. Such behavior was rather rare among minister-level officials at the
time.
Students from the Young Leaders Training Sessions had a keen sense of things, and as such fled upon the
surrender of the Japanese troops. Those who fell into the CCP’s hands became part-time teachers for the
regime’s public security departments, teaching classes to public security officials on a regular basis.
Similarly, Jiang Zemin himself taught a class for the CCP. Although Jiang’s “ability to do real things
doesn’t match even that of the head of a small division in a local business,” as it has been put, he
managed still to fool his adversaries, new and veteran alike, in the irregular Eighth Route Army [5] by
means of artifice learned as a special agent.
In October 2003, a call was issued publicly for those with inside knowledge of Jiang Zemin’s past to
furnish a photo, described as “a group photo of Li Shiqun and Jiang Zemin,” taken in June 1942. A
witness to the photo said that it was taken when Li Shiqun met with members of the fourth of the Young
Leaders (secret) Training Sessions that the puppet Central University had put together. Twenty-three
people were present in the group photo. Jiang Zemin was the fifth person from the left in the second row.
Li Shiqun, the man who would later become Chief of Intelligence in Wang Jingwei’s puppet government,
joined the CCP in 1924. On April 12, 1927, Li was sent by the CCP to the Soviet Union for training as a
special agent. He returned to Shanghai at the end of 1928 and worked for the CCP’s Special Task Forces.
In 1938 Li sought refuge with the invading Japanese army and took up work with them, creating the
secret police headquarters known as “Agency No. 76.” The group photo from the Young Leaders
Training Sessions with Li Shiqun is ironclad evidence that Jiang Zemin was a traitor to China and a spy.
This facet of his past continues to haunt Jiang to this day.
With the surrender of Japan’s forces on Sept. 3, 1945, China began to recover the territory it had lost. On
Sept. 26, 1945, the KMT government issued a document, “Screening Measures for Students Pursuing
Higher Education in Reclaimed Regions,” to sanction investigation of students attending public colleges
in the former Japanese-occupied territory. In October 1945, the Ministry of Education of the KMT
government issued a directive that would fuse Shanghai Jiaotong University, Chongqing Jiaotong
University, and Nanjing Central University into one university; the official site was to be the location of
Shanghai Jiaotong University, in Xujiahui. Since six universities, of which two were Nanjing Central
University and Shanghai Jiaotong University, were classified as “traitor puppet schools,” students there
enrolled were classified as “puppet students” and to be investigated without exception. Jiang Zemin was
thus among the “puppet students” suspected of treason and marked for investigation. Before he was to be
examined, however, Jiang fled.
Jiang fled having seen what had happened to Chen Gongbo. Immediately following Japan’s formal
surrender on Sept. 9, 1945, China’s representative He Yingqin asked Japan’s representative, Okamura
Yasuji, to extradite Chen Gongbo to China for trial. Chen Gongbo was escorted back to China on Oct. 3.
Aware of the harsh treatment the KMT government gave traitors, father Jiang Shijun sensed that he
himself was in imminent danger and thus discarded his pseudonym, Jiang Guanqian, and switched his
identity back to Jiang Shijun—the businessman, engineer, and lover of literature. He returned to his
hometown and lived in hiding for some time.
Jiang Zemin, meanwhile, had left school and run away. He roamed about before finally settling in a place
named Mianhuaping, located in Yongxin of Jiangxi Province. Gone were the days of singing “Chinese
Nights,” the decadent music and dance he had once enjoyed along the Qinhuai River, the special agent
operating funds, and a coveted life of excess. Jiang lived in hunger and cold, homeless. Only later did a
local peasant give Jiang a place to stay; he would remain there for over half a year, waiting for his family
to come for him.
Before he eventually left the countryside, Jiang Zemin wrote down in an old medical book in the
peasant’s home that, should he ever rise to power some day, he would certainly come back to visit. He
signed his name. After becoming General Secretary of the CCP, Jiang on one occasion visited
Jinggangshan mountain area. En route to Jinggangshan he stayed over in Yongxin for a day and made a
point of visiting Mianhuaping. None of Jiang’s entourage knew why he was so familiar with such a small
place or why even he wanted to visit there. In 1997 a descendant of that peasant found the signed medical
book, much to his own astonishment. He proceeded to locate a relative of the wife of powerful CCP
member Wei Jianxing, who was native to Yongxin, wishing to get advice on what to do with the book. In
the end he was persuaded to leave it alone.
Around the time of Jiang’s flight from college, the underground Chinese Communist Party’s student
committee in Shanghai exploited many students’ dissatisfaction with the investigations and roused the
students in six universities to form a student union. In the half year from October 1945 to March 1946
(the half year, notably, that Jiang hid out in Mianhuaping), the underground CCP organized the students
of the six universities to mount seven marches, deliver eight petitions, and hold many a press conference
to which both Chinese and foreign reporters were invited. (One of the best known marches took place on
Nov. 6, and was later thus called the “11-6 March” for short.) Meanwhile, students from institutions in
Nanjing and Beijing (then called Beiping) classified as “puppet schools” were stirred up and led by the
local underground CCP. They were driven time and again to take action. The students took to the streets
to march and protest, and in so doing evoked widespread public response.
If Jiang Zemin had really participated in such dramatic movements, he would have, with his glib tongue,
by now have stretched the experience into a self-glorifying TV series of at least 20 to 30 episodes. Yet
Jiang has never so much as mentioned his involvement. The reason being, of course, that he in fact has
nothing to boast about. Had he, long ago would he have spilled his story. He was in neither Nanjing nor
Shanghai at the time. Rather, he was off hiding in a remote, unknown nook, waiting eagerly for the
investigation to end.
In order to conceal this chapter of his personal history, Jiang Zemin later claimed that he had participated
in an alleged 1943 student movement that was organized by the underground CCP. That is an outright
lie—a lie meant to deceive the layman who lacks knowledge of the historical background. The truth is, in
the Japanese-occupied territory there was never any student movement led by the underground CCP at
any school. There were only secret, underground counter-Japanese activities. Only in those regions ruled
by the KMT were there student movements; the movements called for the KMT government to resist the
Japanese. It is more accurate to say that the CCP mobilized student movements in the KMT regions, with
the aim of destroying Chiang Kai-shek’s reputation and hastening the downfall of both the KMT and the
Japanese; the point was not to resist Japan.
In the areas occupied by the Japanese army, Chinese people were ruled over with cruelty and bloodshed.
Any Chinese students or teachers who attempted to organize activities and assemble, march, protest,
demonstrate, or strike against the Japanese or their puppet government, or to promote resistance, would
immediately meet with ruthless suppression.
Jiang Zemin transferred to Shanghai Jiaotong University and has always avoided the topic of his time in
Shanghai in 1948 after graduating from college. In Jiang’s résumé (as supplied by the Central Committee
of the Chinese Communist Party) his graduation from college in 1947 is immediately followed by
experiences after the CCP came to power in 1949.
But truth be told, Jiang worked for Americans and the KMT during that gap of time. In the CCP’s jargon,
they were “the exploiters” and “the counter-revolutionaries.” Nobody, save for a few non-Chinese
scholars, has dared to mention this fact about Jiang. Under CCP rule Jiang would never dare to speak of
his brief collaboration with an enemy of Marx.
After Jiang graduated from Shanghai Jiaotong University in 1947, he was hired in 1948 as a technical
engineer to work in the power supply section of a food factory that was a subsidiary of Haining Foreign
Firm, a U.S. enterprise. The factory was later purchased by the KMT’s Combined Rear Services
headquarters in 1948 and renamed First Grain Factory; it was then a subsidiary of the Beijing-ShanghaiHangzhou garrison headquarters. Jiang continued to work there as a power engineer. Since the factory
was a war-industry enterprise under strict KMT control, all staff and employees, and in particular those
holding key positions, were investigated with utmost precision. Anyone suspected of being a member of
the Communist Party, or anyone thought untrustworthy, would not be given significant positions. There
was certainly no underground CCP organization at the factory.
* * *
The CCP army entered Shanghai in 1949. The food factory where Jiang Zemin worked was at that time
renamed Yimin No. 1 Foodstuff Factory, and Jiang became an engineer affiliated with the CCP. The CCP
cadre who made an inspection of the factory was Wang Daohan, the man who would later become known
as the “Teacher of the Red Dynasty’s Emperor.” [6] Wang’s wife was the Chair of the board of directors
of the food factory.
Jiang, ever ready to flatter, naturally didn’t want to let pass by an opportunity to build connections with
Wang. He first tried to draw close to Wang by drawing upon their common ground as alumni of Shanghai
Jiaotong University. Once while chatting, Jiang happened to learn that Wang was formerly a subordinate
of his uncle Jiang Shangqing and that Wang liked poetry. Jiang promptly stated that he was “Jiang
Shangqing’s foster son,” playing his best card. He also recited a Su Dongpo poem, “Song of a River
City,” in which the poet mourned his late wife. One line from the poem, “Ten years, dead and living dim
and drawn apart,” evoked an emotional sigh from Wang, as Jiang Shangqing, for whom he retained much
affection, was at that time 10 years deceased. Jiang Zemin’s tactical advance succeeded, scoring a major
victory. Wang, being a sensible person, was grateful for Jiang Shangqing’s early guidance and support,
and as such he believed Jiang Zemin’s words. He decided at once to promote Jiang Zemin. This boosted
much the confidence Jiang had in his new family history. From that time on Wang Daohan would serve as
a witness to Jiang’s pseudo-past; at least half of Jiang’s career path through officialdom was made for by
Wang.
Being different from an ordinary cadre, Jiang Zemin had to carefully handle ties with four parties. He had
to maintain good ties with his subordinates, lest someone level accusations or report on him. He had to
maintain good ties with all higher authorities, lest someone have a bad impression of him and grow
suspicious of his background. He also had to get closer to his direct supervisor’s husband—that is, Wang
Daohan—and further build close ties with the Wang family. Lastly, it was crucial that Jiang continue to
invest emotionally in the widow and family of CCP martyr Jiang Shangqing. Jiang Zemin thus flattered
his “foster mother,” Wang Zhelan, all the more enthusiastically, even marrying Wang Zhelan’s niece—
Wang Yeping—and having two children with her.
Wang Daohan promoted Jiang Zemin from assistant engineer at Yimin Foodstuff Factory to, first, deputy
director at Shanghai Soap Factory, and then, later, to Chief of the electrical machinery section of
Shanghai No. 2 Design Division of the First Ministry of Machinery Industry. In November 1954, Jiang
was transferred to No. 1 Auto Manufacturing Works in Changchun City of Jilin Province. Jiang traveled
in this capacity to Moscow to learn how to operate the factory’s power supply system, and resided in
Changchun for four months to study Russian. In March 1955, he traveled to Moscow with 12 technical
staff.
Jiang Zemin’s emotional investments were not all for naught; to the contrary, his ties came to bear much
fruit. As Ding Mocun’s understudy, and having been trained at the Young Leaders Training Session of
the No. 76 Agency, Jiang needed only to use half of what he picked up from strategy books such as
Survival Guide for Officialdom and Thick Black Theory to deal plenty adequately with the uneducated
8th Route Army of the CCP.
While at Moscow’s Stalin Automobile Works, Jiang Zemin sat routinely on a small stool in the
controlling center and patiently operated power supply equipment. The equipment was in fact similar to
the electrical equipment displayed in the “Exhibition of Military Successes in the Pacific Region of the
Great Crusade in East Asia” of 12 years before, only the scale was much greater this time. Jiang Zemin
had by this time developed a fondness for electrical machinery, a passion stemming from Jiang
Guanqian’s (Jiang Shijun’s) affinity for electrical apparatuses. It was this penchant that brought Jiang
Zemin as far as the Soviet Union. However, as a Chinese proverb has it, “If it is supposed to be a
blessing, it will not become misfortune; if misfortune is supposed to happen, it cannot be avoided.”
In 1945 the Soviet Red Army entered northeast China via three routes. While searching the city of
Changchun they found the complete files of Kenji Doihara’s special agent system; surely the files
included documents and photos of the Young Leaders Training Sessions. The Soviet KGB knew they had
stumbled upon a treasure. They realized full well the value of the documents. And it was, in fact, these
very documents that spurred the process by which Russia later managed to annex huge areas of fertile
land from China.
In the CCP’s large-scale campaign to “suppress counterrevolutionaries” from 1950–1953 and its
subsequent campaign to “eliminate counterrevolutionaries” from 1955–1957, the traitor Li Shiqun was
not found. He was said to have fled upon seeing, thanks to his training as a special agent in the Soviet
Union, the imminent defeat of the Japanese troops. At the time Chen Gongbo had escaped to Japan. As Li
was preparing his escape, he laughed to himself over Chen’s lack of judgment: if the Japanese forces
were defeated, Chen would not be safe in Japan; should the Japanese forces win, what would have been
the point of fleeing? After mulling over the matter, Li came to believe that the Soviet Union was his best
option. Were the Japanese troops to fall, the Soviet Union would be the victor, after all; and neither KMT
leader Chiang Kai-shek nor the CCP would break openly with the Soviet Union over an obsolete spy.
In 1955 Sino-Russian relations took a turn for the worse, despite an ostensible friendliness. Each began to
train spies recruited from the adversary’s nation. Zhou Enlai [7] took up this practice even earlier,
however. Zhou built up a friendship with a Russian couple, both of whom were medical doctors and
refugees who had escaped to Shanghai during the Soviet Union’s red terror. At Zhou’s prompting the
couple used the occasion of providing medical treatment to Soviet Union experts who were staying in
China as a means to steal highly-classified information. In the end, both husband and wife sacrificed their
lives for the CCP: Shanghai Red Guards beat the couple to death during the Cultural Revolution. The
couple would not disclose their true identities, even in their final hour. They said that they could disclose
them only to Zhou Enlai.
During his stay in the Soviet Union, Jiang Zemin tried his very best to maintain good relations with all
types. He performed music, sang songs, told jokes, and sought the limelight whatever may have been the
setting. The Soviet Union’s intelligence service noticed this and began to pay attention to Jiang. They
thought that, as someone who managed to learn to play the piano and erhu and learn foreign languages
under the CCP’s rule, he must hail from a prominent family with massive wealth; and since Jiang was
from Nanjing they figured he might even be a celebrity or someone collaborating with the Japanese. Thus
the KGB searched the archives for Jiang’s dossier and discovered that Jiang was the son of the notorious
traitor, Jiang Guanqian (Jiang Shijun). The KBG then assigned an undercover mistress, Klava, to seduce
Jiang Zemin.
Young Russian women typically have pronounced noses and deep-set eyes, and these features, part of
their striking beauty, combined with their at-times-flirtatious ways can give them the charm of a movie
star. Hardly did Jiang Zemin have his wife in mind while in Russia, though she had shared his hard lot for
some time. Instead he threw himself in the bosom of the beautiful Klava. He was simply enraptured with
the company of a Western girl. Jiang Zemin’s many affairs are by now well-known, but this is a topic to
take up in later chapters.
While Jiang was deeply immersed in his affair with Klava, on one occasion his Russian mistress
whispered softly the name “Li Shiqun” in Jiang’s ear. Jiang was shocked beyond measure—how could
she have known the connection? The KGB then quickly moved in while Jiang was off balance. They gave
Jiang a sum of money, promised not to disclose his treacherous past, and assured him that he could
continue to enjoy the company of Klava before returning to China. On one condition, that is: that Jiang
join the Far East Bureau of the KGB and gather intelligence on Chinese students living in the Soviet
Union as well as provide certain information regarding China.
And so it was that Jiang did, indeed, continue to work for the KGB upon returning to China from
Moscow. The government of the Soviet Union kept its promise and didn’t make the same mistake as had
Stalin in the 1950s when he betrayed Party official Gao Gang, then head of the CCP in northeastern
China. Jiang Zemin’s KGB identity was never revealed.
In May 1991, Jiang Zemin visited the Soviet Union in his capacity as General Secretary of the CCP
Central Committee. Of course, at that time little could Jiang have imagined that in but a few months the
Soviet Union, the world’s first communist nation, would collapse overnight. At that time the Soviet
Communist Party was riddled with crises, but, having formerly been so mighty, it still appeared gigantic,
as in the Chinese idiom, “A camel that has starved to death is still larger than a horse.” Thus, the KGB
still managed to check and find, in advance of his visit, record of Jiang’s love affair and spy experiences.
As the People’s Daily reported it, Jiang, who was busy belting out Russian songs for Gorbachev while
visiting his country, was full of tears upon returning to Ligachev Automobile Works and meeting with old
acquaintances from the factory and their children. But as one insider later disclosed, what actually
happened was that a woman “happened” to appear on the scene and see Jiang Zemin while he was
visiting the factory; specifically, she caught sight of Jiang while he was passing by one of the company’s
dormitories. [8] She greeted him, “Hello, my darling.” It was then that Jiang’s tears rolled. She was none
other than Klava, the woman Jiang had fallen so deeply for years before. Arranging such a “chance
encounter” was easy for the KGB. They knew of Jiang’s affairs and thoughts as well as a person knows
the back of his or her hand. All went according to plan, with Jiang reliving old memories with his lover
during the visit. Upon returning to China, a charmed Jiang signed an agreement concerning the eastern
section of the Sino-Soviet border that ceded—gratuitously—more than 1 million square kilometers
(390,000 square miles) of Chinese territory to Russia.
After the Soviet Union was dismantled Jiang dared even less to slight or to refuse Russia. Even just subtle
hints dropped by Russian figures—be it Yeltsin or former KGB member Putin—proved enough to keep a
nervous Jiang awake at night for days. This explains why even in the absence of the Soviet Union Jiang
was every bit as quick to betray China as before.
The CCP has yet to investigate the experiences of Jiang Shijun and Jiang Zemin—two generations of
traitors who collaborated with the Japanese forces. The reason is that the CCP loves, in fact, the Japanese
and their invasion. Were it not for the Marco Polo Bridge Incident, [9] general Chiang Kai-shek would
have wiped out the CCP sooner or later; were it not for the Mukden Incident, [10] in which Zhang
Xueliang lost northeast China, the CCP would not have managed to instigate the critical Xi’an Incident.
[11] And it was Mao Zedong himself who said at the 1959 Lushan Plenum that the CCP’s task during the
War of Resistance against Japan was to cooperate with the Japanese army by helping to attack soldiers
and civilians that were opposing Japan, and to allow the Japanese army to occupy a greater share of
China’s territory. As a result, the CCP was able to stay in those Japanese-occupied areas that were safely
beyond the reach of the KMT, and continue with its Yan’an “rectification” movement, the planting of
opium, and the expansion of its troops. Thus it was that the CCP’s suppression of “traitors” who worked
for the Japanese was far less severe than its suppression of former KMT subordinates; the latter was
bloody and merciless. When Mao Zedong met with Sasaki, Kuroda, and Saihaku from the Socialist Party
of Japan, he stated that the CCP could not have seized power had the Japanese Imperial Army failed to
invade more than half of China’s territory.
When Jiang Zemin arrived at the Soviet Union for his training, he had by that time grasped the key
workings of fascist propaganda and rule. While staying there he came to realize that the history of the
Soviet Union as then told was a complete lie. College students there didn’t know Marx or Engels very
well, while the text, History of the Soviet Communist Party, that was required reading was a history
entirely falsified so as to fit Stalin’s needs. The Soviet Communist Party had turned what was once the
theoretical worship of Marx and Lenin into the more concrete, practical worship of Stalin.
This sent Jiang Zemin deep into thought: never had he considered how to maintain power should it one
day be in his possession. Again it would be the Soviet Communist Party that served as Jiang’s teacher.
In February 1956, at the Soviet Communist Party’s 20th congressional meeting, Khrushchev issued a
confidential report in which Stalin’s monstrous crimes were systematically disclosed. The contents of the
document spread quickly throughout the Soviet Union. The public was enraged upon learning that Stalin
had slaughtered tens of millions of his own people. In no time the streets were littered with shredded
images of Stalin and pulverized bronze statues once in his likeness. Stalin worship took a complete aboutface. With this drastic turn of events Jiang came to realize ever more so how terrible it would be were his
own past to be made known.
As the overthrow of the formerly-enshrined Stalin stood to remind the Chinese people of their own
worship of Mao Zedong not so long before, the CCP grew to fear that Chinese people living in the Soviet
Union would be negatively affected by this new turn of events. Political needs overrode all else. All
Chinese then in the Soviet Union were thus, save for diplomatic envoys, ordered to return to China
immediately. Jiang gleaned from these dramatic events that Stalin had managed to stay in power through
suppression and deception until his death; that he had committed monstrous crimes was, at least during
his lifetime, without consequence. The value of artifice and its devices thus emblazoned itself deeply in
Jiang’s mind. Over and over Jiang pondered the matter.
____________________
Notes:
[1] A song from the modern Chinese opera, “The Red Guards of Honghu”; the piece was adapted from a popular Hubei province
folk song and made to serve CCP purposes.
[2] Also known as the Rape of Nanking, this refers to the atrocities perpetrated by the Japanese army in China’s Nanjing city in
December of 1937.
[3] An attempt by Japan to create a bloc of Asian nations that would supply raw materials to Japan and serve as a market for
Japanese goods.
[4] A reference to the thus-themed 2005 Spring Festival Gala hosted by China’s state-run China Central Television (CCTV).
[5] A loosely-used term referring to the CCP.
[6] “Red Dynasty” referring to the CCP, and “Emperor” referring to Jiang Zemin.
[7] Zhou Enlai (1898–1976) was a leading CCP figure second in prominence to perhaps only Mao; from 1949 until his death he
served as Premier of China.
[8] Typical of Stalinist Russia was to have living quarters present on the grounds of large companies, such as industrial factories—a
model followed soon after in communist China under Mao.
[9] Also known as the “July 7th Incident,” this refers to a 1937 battle that took place near Beijing and that marked the beginning of
China’s war with Japan.
[10] Also know as the “Manchurian Incident,” this refers to a disputed 1931 railroad explosion in northern Chi na that provided a
pretext for Japan’s military to annex Manchuria.
[11] Referring to the kidnapping of KMT leader Chiang Kai-shek in 1936, which had the effect of delaying the KMT’s war with the
communists and forcing a temporary allegiance that would set both groups against the invading Japanese.
1. The Origin of Jiang’s Western-Sounding Nickname, “Kericon”
In 1956 Jiang Zemin turned 30. At the beginning of the year he finished his training at the Stalin
Automobile Works in Moscow and returned to Changchun City in northeastern China to prepare for the
construction of the Changchun No. 1 Automotive Plant; the facility was slated to begin operations
officially that summer. Jiang began as the section chief of the motive power department. Soon after,
following production of the first Liberation Brand truck, he was promoted to a deputy director of the
division. Jiang’s immediate superiors were a Soviet technician and a director, Chen Yunqu. Though Chen
was an expert, he lacked the credentialing that came with being a CCP member, and so it was that Jiang, a
full-fledged member of the Party, became Secretary of the Party branch in the division.
Much did Jiang Zemin benefit along the way from his CCP membership. Dating back as early as the
CCP’s coming to power in China, Party members have always, in matters of personnel choices, enjoyed
first consideration and been placed into important positions. Non-members—whether white or blue collar
workers—have, on the other hand, been met with distrust. Jiang lacked a history of “revolutionary
involvement” in CCP activities, being, instead, a traitor who received his education at the puppet Central
University and a man who once worked for the KMT (before the CCP seized Shanghai). Under normal
circumstances all somebody of Jiang’s profile could have expected was to be a target for “reform” or, at
best, to become a provisional staff member. Thus it was that Jiang used the CCP martyr status of his
uncle, Jiang Shangqing, to secure a rather glorious designation, “the foster son of a martyr,” by way of
concocting a story of adoption. Jiang hence became a cadre the CCP felt it could trust. Jiang was, then,
something of a rare find for the CCP: a man of the Party and somebody having good technical skills.
While at the plant, Jiang grew acquainted with his “fellow townsman” Shen Yongyan—a man who, like
Jiang, came from the area of Jiangsu and Zhejiang Provinces. The two became friends and would pass
idle time in the evenings getting together and chatting. During breaks from work they often played ping
pong. Word has it that Jiang would, after losing—a frequent event, allegedly—mumble a few words of
Russian and take a seat off to the side.
In terms of Jiang’s technical skills, his colleagues knew that he wasn’t good at his job. But Jiang was
good at something: talking. His talent was concentrated in his mouth. His relationship with the Soviet
expert at the plant was most collegial, reaching new heights whenever Russian folk songs came into play.
Jiang’s forte was not so much resolving technical problems as accompanying delegations that visited the
plant. His colleagues thus gave him, in jest, a foreign-sounding nickname, “kericon”—a name suggestive
of the times. Kericon is a character in a Russian novel who makes false, exaggerated, and empty
statements, being a person ever keen on doing things for his own gain; upon assuming any real work his
incompetence is exposed. The nickname Kericon not only suited Jiang’s personality, but was also
befitting the standards the CCP used to promote people.
The CCP has come up with a host of rather ridiculous phrases and ideas over the years, such as, “a
communist heaven on earth,” “the Four Modernizations,” “being fairly well-off,” and “Three
Represents,” among others. Even now it still tries, vainly, to convince China’s people that they live in a
supposedly “harmonious” society. But the CCP is not engaged in the actual production of much of
anything, and when it meets with crises it simply resorts to killing people. Then, after the crisis has
passed, it continues to exist by means of boasting and deception. It is for this reason that cadres who are
adept at exaggerating and lying are considered indispensable. During Mao’s Great Leap Forward (1958–
1962), exaggerating and lying reached a peak; a quick look through official news reports from that period
quickly gives one a taste of things.
One case is worth recounting. On June 8, 1958, newspapers first reported that the wheat yield in Suiping
County, Henan Province was 1,052.5 kilograms per mu. [1] By Sept. 18, 1958, the People’s Daily was
reporting that the rice yield in Red Flag Agricultural Producers’ Cooperative in Huanjiang County,
Guangxi Province was as high as 65,217 kilograms per mu. In July of that year, the bulletin of the
Ministry of Agriculture claimed that summer grain production increased 69 percent from the year before,
with the total output even surpassing that of the United Stated by 2 billion kilograms. A “great leap
forward” also purportedly took place in the automobile industry. Within half a year, more than 200 types
of automobiles were said to have been designed and manufactured. Moreover, the CCP claimed that
advanced technology such as V-engines, power steering equipment, and automatic transmissions were
being put into the new vehicles. China’s auto industry was said to be advancing rapidly and surpassing
other countries.
One of the more advanced automobiles was allegedly created by Jiang Zemin and his coworkers. The new
automobile employed a wooden air pump and a bamboo body. Jiang Zemin majored in engineering in
school so he of course knew that his group’s “inventions” were not in fact of much use, practically
speaking, though they were of use in terms of impressing people. Jiang realized that he was, by being in
the spirit of things, showing himself to be in step with the Party, and that only by doing so could he
continue to rise through the ranks. After coming to this understanding Jiang always managed to find a
reason for his subordinates to complete tasks assigned them by the CCP, however absurd they were.
During the Great Leap Forward—an era in which a person could accomplish little without lying—
Changchun No. 1 Automotive Plant went through a re-organization between the end of 1958 and the
beginning of 1959 wherein the power division was split off and made into a branch of its own. It was then
that Jiang Zemin, who had been building his credentials doing the CCP’s bidding, indeed moved up
another rung and was made head of the branch.
2. A Time When People Starved to Death
The Great Leap Forward brought about economic problems and a famine of disastrous proportions. Since
farmers were forcefully organized into “People’s Communes” to smelt steel, nobody was left to cultivate
the land or harvest the grain. And the grain that each family had saved was seized and put into the
communes’ canteens, where everyone was supposed to eat. As a result, some people ran out of food, and
death from starvation started to occur in the rural areas. Within a short time, the famine spread to the
entire country, including cities. Experts estimate that from 1959 to 1961, between 20 million and 50
million people starved to death. In many areas where the famine was particularly severe, people even ate
other people’s children. In the Xinyang area of Henan Province and in Renshou County of Sichuan
Province, as with other areas, some entire households and villages starved to death. In some areas 9 out of
10 homes were left empty.
Northeastern China enjoys the natural benefit of having a lot of land and fewer people. So conditions
there were somewhat better during that three-year period. Even so, the workers in the Automotive Plant
did not have enough to eat. Even the workers that did heavy labor were only rationed 15 kilograms of
grain per month, and they had to purchase it with their ration cards. Jiang Zemin began to dislike being in
the northeast all the more.
Back in 1956, soon after Jiang had returned from the Soviet Union, he and his wife Wang Yeping and
their two young sons moved from Shanghai to Changchun. Relative to the positions that Jiang held, his
family’s living conditions were quite good in Changchun. Not only had they Jiang’s income, but his wife
as well had a good salary. Jiang’s family was assigned a three-bedroom apartment on the fourth floor. The
apartment was equipped with a Soviet-style central heating system, gas stove, private bathroom, and
double-glazed windows that were preferred in the severe cold of northeastern China. Most Chinese would
have been envious of such living conditions. Although prices were very low then, all most people could
dream of was to manage to fill their stomachs with things like steamed cornbread. But even during the
years of the famine, Jiang Zemin expected to eat chicken every day.
The conditions in Changchun were not agreeable to Jiang’s wife, who was accustomed to living in the
region south of the Yangtze River. In Changchun she could only wear skirts for a few days each year;
most of the time she had to wrap herself in a heavy, thick cotton jacket and cotton-quilted pants. So she,
as someone who loved to dress beautifully, was bitter toward Jiang Zemin, and blamed him for moving
the family to such an icy, frigid place.
CCP official Wang Daohan had sent Jiang Zemin off on his training in the Soviet Union wishing to help
him earn a promotion down the line. But as a consequence, Jiang ended up having to leave Shanghai to
work in Changchun. Jiang hated to leave prosperous Shanghai and the banks of the Huangpu River,
which reminded him of happy days in his youth. But, looking at things from a long-term perspective,
Jiang realized that moving to Changchun would eventually pay dividends and lead to promotions.
Jiang’s wife, Wang Yeping, grew up in Shanghai. She is the niece of Wang Zhelan, who is the wife of
Jiang Shangqing—Jiang Zemin’s martyred uncle. She graduated from Shanghai Foreign Language
Institute and is two years younger than Jiang Zemin. After skirt-chaser Jiang transferred from the
Japanese puppet Central University in Nanjing to Shanghai Jiaotong University, he visited the Wang
family a few times. He and Wang Yeping were somewhat interested in one another, though neither
thought much of it at the time. In 1949, when it was obvious the CCP would soon seize power, Jiang was
struck by an idea and began pursuing Wang Yeping.
Wang Zhelan had some resentment towards the family of Jiang Shijun (Jiang Zemin’s biological father).
When her husband, Jiang Shangqing, had passed away, the CCP was still being called “the Communist
bandits.” Being an older brother, Jiang Shijun had admonished Jiang Shangqing to leave the Communist
bandits, but to no avail. To avoid being implicated, he tried not to have much contact with his brother.
When Jiang Shangqing died, Jiang Shijun thought that it was his younger brother’s own fault, and thus,
though he was one to indulge in extravagant spending, he never gave Wang Zhelan’s family any financial
assistance. The 28-year-old widow lived a hard life raising daughters of one and three years old. When
Jiang Zehui, her second daughter, was interviewed by Kuhn, she said, “Our family had little to eat,
sometimes no food at all.” [2]
After the CCP took power the situation reversed. Jiang Shijun hung his head low, and things grew
difficult for his children as well. Jiang Zemin then proceeded to, in order to solidify the “martyr’s foster
son” title he sought so dearly, make efforts to tighten his relationship with Wang Zhelan’s family. When
Wang Zhelan visited her parents’ home in Shanghai and she saw that Jiang Zemin and her niece were
dating, Wang Zhelan didn’t realize what Jiang had in mind. She thought that Jiang was different from his
cold-hearted, disloyal father, and as such was pleased about their relationship. In December 1949, not
even two months after the CCP was officially inaugurated, Jiang Zemin swiftly married Wang Yeping.
The marriage emblazoned once and for all the glorious title, “foster son of a martyr,” as if across Jiang’s
forehead.
Soon after, aunt Wang Zhelan found a job in a bank in Shanghai. After she retired, she was cared for by
her elder daughter, Jiang Zeling, for over 20 years. About one month after Jiang Zemin became mayor of
Shanghai she died in Yangzhou City at the age of 74.
3. Jiang Zemin’s Wife, “the Owl,” Has an Affair
For some time after their marriage, Jiang Zemin and Wang Yeping’s relations were not bad. Wang
Yeping gave birth to two sons: Jiang Mianheng in 1952 and Jiang Miankang in 1954.
But the good times were soon to fade. When in 1955 Jiang Zemin went to the Soviet Union for training,
Wang Yeping was left in Shanghai to raise their two young sons by herself. In the Soviet Union there
were more women than men after the war. The situation depicted in the movie Moscow Nights, where
two men competed for one woman, had since changed. Lustful Jiang began to play the game in the
Moscow Automobile Works despite being a married man. After returning to China he no longer found
Wang Yeping charming. Although Jiang didn’t say anything, Wang could feel it.
After Jiang Zemin returned from the Soviet Union, he constantly hummed the verse, “Snow and ice cover
the Volga River; three carts run on the surface of its ice. Someone is singing a sad song, and the singer is
the driver of the cart.” In his heart he was missing the beautiful spy Klava. Wang Yeping’s sorrow was
amplified all the more when she heard the song on frigid winter days. She had been reluctant to move to
Changchun with the kids in the first place. Being accustomed to living in southern cities, it was
challenging for her to adapt to the severe cold of northeastern China. And on top of that, Jiang Zemin was
seldom home; upon getting off from work he often went to sing and dance with the Soviet experts. Wang
Yeping was left at home to look after the two children by herself, and for this often felt resentful.
If anyone can perceive changes in a man, it is usually his wife. Wang Yeping could feel that Jiang
Zemin’s heart seemed left behind somewhere in the Soviet Union. She often asked Jiang, as if just
making conversation, what he did in his spare time while living in the Soviet Union. Jiang, usually one to
prattle on about things, always responded evasively and kept his lips sealed. This made Wang only more
suspicious.
Today many people find Wang’s appearance to be rather lack-luster, and have even said sarcastically that
Jiang keeps an owl at home as a pet. But according to the recollection of workers from the Changchun
Automotive Plant, Wang Yeping was one of the “three beauties” at the plant, being noticeably pretty. She
was about 30 then and still young. And Wang, being from Shanghai, had her beauty enhanced by a
sophisticated urban style.
Wang Yeping’s major in college was foreign languages. There was no appropriate position for her at the
automotive plant. But because Jiang Zemin was a cadre, the plant gave Wang special treatment and made
her a secretary. In the early days the Changchun Automotive Plant had two branches. When Jiang Zemin
worked as the head of the first branch, Wang Yeping was working at the second branch. She couldn’t talk
about her suspicions of Jiang Zemin to others, of course. But one time she couldn’t help but pour her
heart out to the director of the second branch. Having received warm consolation from him, she thought
of a way to heal her emotional wounds: have an affair with the director.
Bad news travels fast. In those days affairs were not taken lightly. Some people took these things so hard
back then that they would even commit suicide. But when Wang’s affair was exposed, she continued to
go about things as normal. At that time rumors about the affair were the main topics of gossip at the
factory. In public Jiang pretended not to know, but at home the couple quarreled badly.
Jiang turned to Wang Daohan, the First Deputy Minister of the First Ministry of Machinery Industry at
the time, asking to be transferred to a different location. His most compelling reason was, “Now that
everyone knows my wife has been having an affair, how can I run things here?” Wang Daohan was
sympathetic to the plight of the “adopted son” of Jiang Shangqing, having once been promoted by the
uncle. So in 1962, with Wang Daohan’s help, Jiang Zemin was assigned the post of deputy director of the
Shanghai Electrical Apparatus Research Institute, which was under the First Ministry of Machinery
Industry. Wang Yeping herself returned to Shanghai, which she had longed for, and was assigned a job in
the same institute as was Jiang. She knew nothing about technology, but a “technical personnel” title was
added to her résumé for having worked at the institute. Seeing that the deputy minister had personally
helped place Jiang, the subordinates were especially attentive and assigned Jiang a nice and spacious twobedroom apartment in Caoyang New Village, built in 1960. From this experience Jiang Zemin realized
even more the power of political authority. From that point on he was even more mindful of pleasing
Wang Daohan, and took to calling him his “mentor.”
In 1965, the First Ministry of Machinery Industry organized a delegation to attend a technical conference
in Japan, and Jiang Zemin was selected for the group. The delegation detoured to Hong Kong for a visit
before going to Japan. After they returned, Wang Daohan suggested to higher-ups that Jiang be made
director and deputy Party secretary of the newly established Wuhan Institute of Thermodynamic
Engineering. Jiang’s career was extremely smooth thanks to Wang Daohan’s personal attention. Jiang
was not only glad that uncle Jiang Shangqing was once a CCP official, but also that he had died so early
in life. Otherwise, given uncle Jiang Shangqing’s relationship with Jiang Zemin’s father, Jiang Shijun,
Shangqing probably would have severed all ties with daddy Shijun; and even if he chose otherwise, no
one would have helped Jiang Zemin get anywhere as the son of a traitor.
4. “Braggart” Jiang Zemin in Wuhan
In 1966 Jiang Zemin was 40 years old. In May of that year, he was appointed Director and acting Party
Secretary of the Wuhan Institute of Thermodynamic Engineering. The appointment made Jiang a 13th
grade cadre, that is, he was vaulted into an elite circle of senior CCP cadres. Equally grateful was Jiang
that the transfer took place just before Mao Zedong’s tumultuous Cultural Revolution. Soon after
changing to the institute Jiang was given the nickname “braggart.” Since he had been transferred there
only recently people could find little to criticize him about. And it was for this reason that during the
catastrophe that was the Cultural Revolution, a movement the CCP appraised as having “stirred the soul
of every man, woman, and child,” Jiang Zemin was not much affected.
Mao launched the Cultural Revolution in hopes of regaining dictatorial power over the Party—power
which, he felt, had fallen into the hands of Liu Shaoqi. Mao incited students and workers at the lowest
levels to revolt and seize power. Within a short time nearly everyone who had been in power was
attacked, denounced, or even detained and tortured. In Shanghai the rebellion organized by Zhang
Chunqiao and Wang Hongwen was particularly fierce. Several years later, after the Cultural Revolution
came to an end, many who had formerly been colleagues in Shanghai and who survived the disaster
inquired about the fates of those they knew. Surprised were they to learn that Jiang Zemin had been
tucked away in Wuhan and was barely attacked. He was even sent to Romania for a visit in 1972, before
the movement had ended. His former colleagues who suffered a great deal during the Cultural Revolution
sighed indignantly, “Braggart Jiang is indeed something. He managed to escape even the Cultural
Revolution when all others suffered tremendously. The braggart lived up to his name.”
The truth is, Jiang Zemin was terribly frightened during the Cultural Revolution. The Institute was newly
established and all of its staff had been transferred from different regions, so it was unlike the older work
units where people had long standing antagonism, resentment, or enmity toward one another; along with
this, cases where people utilized the political climate to take revenge on coworkers were not so
pronounced. But Jiang was, after all, the director of the institute, and thus someone in power and at risk.
He feared during the Cultural Revolution that he would be investigated, exposed, and criticized, and thus
worried that his shady past during the time of the Japanese occupation would be discovered. In November
1966, on the pretext of visiting home and reporting to his superior, Jiang went first to Beijing to inquire
about the political climate and then on to Shanghai for several weeks, looking, similarly, into what was
taking place. He repeatedly enjoined Wang Yeping, who was still working in Shanghai, not to say
anything casually, especially about his family background.
Wang of course had to take the request seriously, for if Jiang were to be labeled a traitor she would be
herself guilty by association. Their fates were tied together. Wang advised Jiang to intentionally deviate
from the Party line on a few trivial issues so as to divert the rebels’ attention from the larger ones.
When Jiang returned to Wuhan, he took the attitude of admitting to all minor mistakes while denying
wrongdoing when it came to important matters. When the masses criticized him for not doing solid work
and only doing a lot of boasting, he criticized himself saying, “You are right. I am braggart Jiang.” Jiang
had been influenced by actors in Yangchow City since as early as his childhood. He always had a comb in
his pocket, and would often take it out to groom himself, even in others’ company. He felt good about
himself despite being somewhat effeminate. When the populace was criticizing the “capitalist-roaders,”
they pointed out that Jiang Zemin had “a small comb and a big head,” and a “bourgeoisie attitude.” Jiang
immediately admitted to it. In 2003, during the National People’s Congress, Jiang Zemin told the
delegation from Hubei Province, “The rebels asked me what I feared the most. I answered that I feared
Chairman Mao most. And for saying that, I was publicly criticized for three days.” If he was guilt free,
why would he fear Chairman Mao? At that time people couldn’t love Chairman Mao enough! The
political investigation personnel poked everywhere to investigate and dig things out, and even things that
had transpired decades before were exposed. But Jiang Zemin was never toppled, since he had the status
of being a “martyr’s foster son.”
5. Long-Term Strategic Investments
In 1969, the 9th Congressional Meeting of the CCP convened, and the political situation in China started
to change. “Martyr’s foster son” Jiang Zemin went through the political investigations quickly and
without incident, and was first sent on May 7 to a Cadre School to work and be tempered. Soon after that
he was sent to Beijing in 1970 and was appointed Deputy Director of the Foreign Affairs Bureau under
the First Ministry of Machinery Industry.
After the 9th Congressional Meeting the CCP was extremely isolated in the international arena. Both
superpowers—the United States and the Soviet Union—became threatening enemies of the CCP. China
and the Soviet Union, two Communist countries, had border conflicts and fiercely fought a few times
along their borders. In order to get out of the predicament of isolation, the CCP tried hard to win several
small Communist countries over to its side. After Albania, China won over Romania. With Romania and
Pakistan being go-betweens, China reconciled with the U.S. That marked the beginning of China’s
international strategy of nearly 20 years (1970–1989) of allying with the U.S. and opposing the Soviet
Union. In order to repay the Romanian Communist Party for its help, the CCP decided to send some
people to Romania to help facilitate its industrial build-up. When the technical group for aiding Romania
was set up, Jiang Zemin was made the group’s leader due to his knack for foreign languages.
It is said that Zhou Enlai met with Jiang and thought highly of him. Zhou was a CCP figure who managed
to remain standing no matter the political climate, and was known for being cruel on the inside but
charming on the outside. To outsiders Zhou Enlai seemed like a modest gentleman, when in fact he
presided over the killing of Gu Shunzhang’s entire family, and it was he that ordered killed an 80-yearold woman, a young child, and someone who saved his life. His means were downright vicious, if not
sinister. Without Zhou Enlai’s involvement the political movements launched by the CCP could not have
been so virulent. After they met, Jiang was officially appointed group leader. In 1971, he led the technical
group in its visit to Romania and they performed a feasibility study of the construction of eight factories.
After he returned to China in 1972, he was promoted to Director of the Foreign Affairs Bureau—a
position he would hold for eight years.
In 1972, Mao Zedong realized that China’s society and economy had been devastated by his Cultural
Revolution. That being the case, Mao, together with Zhou Enlai, recycled Deng Xiaoping, who had been
previously labeled “the No. 2 capitalist roader in the Party,” so as to straighten things out and restore
normal production in the country. Jiang Zemin, who made something of a living by paying lip service,
could do little to help efforts of economic reform. During that period he simply stayed in the position of
Foreign Affairs Bureau director. The Bureau was a good place to be, though. In the 1970s, when goods of
any type were hard to come by, those who had some connection with foreign affairs had access to
desirable items. Jiang took advantage of his position and would every now and then send some gifts to his
superiors. He tried to please people any way he could, catering to everyone.
Jiang didn’t forget Wang Daohan. Although at that time Wang was, at least at one point, in a bad
predicament, Jiang figured that investments should be looked at in terms of the long-run. With Wang’s
qualifications, record of service, and status in the CCP, he had a great chance of making a comeback.
Were Jiang not to make a long-term strategic investment, he would miss the chance, as it would be too
late to fawn on Wang after he resumed his post.
When Wang’s situation was such that he could get only a ration of 200 grams of cooking oil and 250
grams of sugar per month for each person in his family, Jiang hurried to Wang’s home upon returning
from Romania with a full load. He brought things such as milk powder and candy, amounting to a rather
sizeable treat for Wang’s family. Jiang Mianheng, Jiang’s eldest son, was able to make it into college
thanks to Jiang Zemin’s frequent provision of hot commodities to the leaders. In 1977 Jiang Mianheng
graduated from Fudan University with a “worker-peasant-soldier” [3] student status.
Jiang Zemin was average at his job and had no merits to speak of. The team who wrote Jiang Zemin’s
biography sought out, as is usually done, many people who knew him in the past, hoping to come upon
accomplishments of some sort. But nobody could tell them anything that, when considered today, could
be seen as a convincing story. The consensus is: one can’t say that Jiang did not work hard or was
unmotivated; he did well in adapting to the times and keeping pace with his superiors. And he was an
opportunist. Jiang once said that the head of a department in the First Ministry of Machinery Industry
praised him often. The writing team spent much effort seeking out the wife of the deceased director. And
what did they discover, but that she claimed her husband used to say Jiang exaggerated his achievements
and made something out of nothing.
Jiang frequently studied the work Corruption in Officialdom and deeply understood that under the CCP’s
rule a person could only sail through and meet with political success by being opportunistic, boasting, and
flattering one’s superiors. During each of the political movements that Jiang experienced, it was always
the case that he made others suffer, but never vice versa. There is an old intellectual figure who used to
work at the same place as Jiang who still can’t get over how Jiang labeled and attacked him as a
“bourgeois rightist” by way of false accusations.
6. A Taste of Power
1976 was an important turning point in Chinese history, and it happened that Jiang Zemin turned 50 that
year. There was a terrible earthquake in Tangshan, the magnitude of which surpassed eight on the Richter
Scale; hundreds of thousands of lives were lost. In the same year, the CCP’s three big guns—Zhou Enlai,
Zhu De, and Mao Zedong—died one after another. In September, soon after Mao Zedong died, Ye
Jianying [4] went against what Mao asked of him before his death, which was to support Jiang Qing as
well as to aid Hua Guofeng. Ye Jianying collaborated with Wang Dongxing and Hua Guofeng, and
initiated a palace coup. They used Military Unit 8341, which was controlled by Wang Dongxing, and
arrested the Gang of Four—the notorious group which included Wang Hongwen (then Vice Chairman of
the CCP) and Zhang Chunqiao (a member of the Standing Committee of the Politburo of the CCP Central
Committee), as well as Jiang Qing and Yao Wenyuan, members of the Politburo of the CCP Central
Committee. Though Jiang Qing was Mao Zedong’s widow she was, even before Mao’s corpse turned
cold, made a political prisoner along with nephew Mao Yuanxin; the perpetrators did so under the
auspices of following Mao’s political line. It was illustrative of the saying, “No CCP leader has a good
ending.”
Everyone was gratified over the Gang of Four falling from power. A joke was going around in Beijing
that went as follows: One day, Jiang Qing, who was in charge of the Anti-Deng Campaign, bumped into
Deng Xiaoping. Deng asked her, “How is your Anti-Deng Campaign going?” Jiang Qing replied, “It has
been launched and going vigorously for a month now. I think we just need another month to overthrow
you and give you a bad name.” Deng briefly looked Jiang Qing up and down and said, “It would take me
less than a week to criticize you in a campaign and give you a bad name.”
At the time Hua Guofeng and Ye Jianying didn’t dare to underestimate the influence in Shanghai of the
Gang of Four, or the “Shanghai Gang,” as it was also known. Its fervent followers in Shanghai had
drafted a statement to the Party and to the people of China, and were preparing for a revolt in Shanghai.
However, the Gang of Four was not supported by anyone in the military, and their attempt quickly failed.
Three key players in the Shanghai Gang—Ma Tianshui, Xu Jingxian, and Wang Xiuzhen—were tricked
and went to Beijing. Seeing that the game was over they had no choice but to surrender. At that point the
Central Committee, led by Hua Guofeng and Ye Jianying, appointed Su Zhenhua as the First Secretary of
the CCP in the Shanghai municipal government and as Director of the Revolutionary Committee of
Shanghai; Ni Zhifu was appointed the Second Secretary of the CCP in the Shanghai municipal
government and First Deputy Director of the Revolutionary Committee of Shanghai; and Peng Chong
was appointed Third Secretary of the CCP in the Shanghai municipal government and Second Deputy
Director of the Revolutionary Committee of Shanghai. Su, Ni, and Peng were also appointed Chief and
First and Second Deputy Chiefs, respectively, of the Working Group of the Central Committee of the
CCP, and subsequently moved to Shanghai.
In order to control Shanghai more effectively, it was important to include in the Working Group someone
from Shanghai. Since Jiang Zemin, who was then working in the Foreign Affairs Bureau in First Ministry
of the Machinery Industry, had worked in Shanghai before, he was temporarily made a member of the
Working Group and accompanied the group to Shanghai.
The Central Committee’s concerns about Shanghai proved unnecessary. Although the Shanghai Gang had
managed Shanghai for many years, people did not support in the least its “leftist” line. When the Working
Group entered Shanghai, the ground soldiers, the navy, and the air force in Shanghai—who numbered
more than 30,000—were ordered to ride in a few hundred vehicles and march throughout the city. They
shouted in unison “Overthrow the Gang of Four,” and “Firmly support the Central Committee’s brilliant
decision.” Their voices were like thunder. After a full day of such show, any fear the people of Shanghai
may have had was dissipated, with the remaining influence of the Gang of Four completely destroyed.
Driven by college students from Fudan University, Jiaotong University, and Shanghai Normal University,
the long-oppressed Shanghai people took to the streets and cheered the overthrow of the Gang of Four.
Similar to what the joke had Deng Xiaoping saying to Jiang Qing, the name of the Gang of Four was
smeared in less than a week. Jiang Zemin was overwhelmed by the welcome that the Central Committee
Working Group received from the people of Shanghai.
Before long, the Working Group was no longer needed. Jiang Zemin reluctantly returned to Beijing and
resumed his office as Director of the Foreign Affairs Bureau in the First Ministry of Machinery Industry.
He had gotten something of a high from his experience in the Working Group of the Central Committee,
the sense of power he felt as a regal delegate, and the satisfaction of having everyone ask for his approval.
Jiang was determined to continue to rise through the ranks.
7. Hedging His Bets
In 1978, Jiang Zemin hedged a wrong bet. He didn’t expect Deng Xiaoping to return to power. The
central government adopted a new policy of economic openness and reform at the 3rd Plenary Session of
the 11th National People’s Congress. Because Jiang had made speeches that strongly criticized Deng
Xiaoping during the “Criticize Deng and Fight the Rightists’ Reversal Attempt” movement in 1975, he
almost was categorized himself as one of the “three kinds of people”—a stinging label that would spell
political downfall. His political career thus met with obstacles until 1980, when, thanks to Wang Daohan,
things took a turn for the better.
In 1979 the central leadership, so as to implement Deng Xiaoping’s policy of openness and reform,
formed two ministry-level commissions: the State Administration on Import and Export Affairs and the
State Administration on Foreign Investment, both chaired by Gu Mu. Wang Daohan was vice chairman of
one of them. In August 1980, Wang was appointed Mayor of Shanghai. At the time Jiang Zemin was
having challenges at the First Ministry of Machinery Industry. Wang thus strongly recommended Jiang
Zemin to Gu Mu, saying that Jiang was a cadre with higher education and the foster son of a martyr. Jiang
Zemin’s career suddenly took a new turn and he landed the position of Deputy Director for both the State
Administration on Import and Export Affairs and the State Administration on Foreign Investment. This
rank was at the deputy minister level.
The first thing Jiang did after taking the positions was to host an evaluation of the special economic
regions. Ruan Ming, secretary of the former CCP General Secretary Hu Yaobang, recalled about Jiang
Zemin, “I met him once. It was in 1981 at a meeting on the special economic regions. At the time, Jiang
was a deputy director in an import and export commission and presided over the meeting, during which
he said a lot of empty words. He didn’t support the further opening up of the special economic regions,
but neither did he dare to go against Hu Yaobang’s decisions. So he said some ambiguous things. He
struck me as someone who was good at bureaucracy and flip-flopping depending on whoever was in
power.”
A cadre who knew Jiang well said, “I thought Jiang was the child of a deceased senior CCP official,
similar to Li Peng, Lin Hanxiong, Zou Jiahua, Ye Zhengda, and company, and that he got up there by
going to his father’s old comrades-in-arms. I found out later that Jiang cast his net widely and used every
connection he could take advantage of.”
At that time the conflict between the pro-reform camp and the conservative one was still quite intense.
Jiang Zemin changed his opinion depending on the circumstances, leaning to the left one moment, then to
the right the next. Lucky for him, before the final moment arrived he saw that the reformers were winning
and didn’t hedge the wrong bet.
Once he had gained a certain status, climbing further up grew much easier. Using uncle Jiang
Shangqing’s connections, Jiang Zemin was easily appointed Deputy Minister of the Ministry of
Electronics Industry, which was under the direct leadership of Zhang Aiping. He became Minister later
on. People who worked with Jiang at the First Ministry of Machinery Industry said that Jiang didn’t work
very hard, but was keen at building connections with high-ranking officials. He would use anybody and
seize any opportunity for his purposes. He spent a lot of time trying to meet and visit central government
and ministry-level officials. Jiang carried a small notebook with him wherever he went, and would study
it whenever he had time. In the notebook he wrote down the birthdays, interests, and hobbies of the
leaders that were useful to him, as well as who their relatives were. And Jiang had another special skill:
getting close to the children of the current and deceased central government leaders (such as Zeng
Qinghong, who played a critical part in Jiang’s promotion to General Secretary of the CCP). In 1989
Jiang visited Deng Xiaoping’s house for the first time. The way Jiang poured water for Deng’s children
and fetched Deng’s slippers is still a source of laughter at the dinner tables of children of the former top
leaders.
Thanks to promotion and lobbying by Wang Daohan and Zhang Aiping; in March 1982, the then 56-yearold Jiang Zemin was appointed Minister of the Electronics Industry. In the same year, at the CCP’s 12th
National Congress, he became a member of the CCP Central Committee.
Jiang accomplished little during his tenure at the Ministry of the Electronics Industry. Negative
statements about him circulated with quite some frequency. There were reports in a Chinese media outlet
about a municipal official visiting a strip club during an overseas business trip and being informed on by
another member of the delegation. It wasn’t hard to guess who they were referring to. But Jiang didn’t
worry that he would be informed on. When he visited the United States in the 1980s, he snuck over to the
red light district in Las Vegas to watch strippers and visit prostitutes. The expenses were reimbursed by
the Chinese government. A typical senior CCP official wouldn’t dare go so far, but for Jiang, who had a
history with a KGB woman in Russia, visiting the red light district and prostitutes in the U.S. was
nothing.
Later on, during the 10-plus years when Jiang was in charge of the CCP, the central government, and the
military, the way in which prostitution flourished in China far exceeded that in Western capitalist
countries. The corrupt and immoral officials supervised by Jiang all had mistresses, whether openly or
secretly. Strip dances are no longer a privilege that can only be enjoyed by high-ranking officials on visits
to foreign countries—they now abound in China. A popular saying goes, “If a man doesn’t visit
prostitutes, he’s letting the Party’s central leadership down; if a woman doesn’t sell her body, she is
letting Jiang Zemin down.”
Jiang’s ambitions grew even wilder while serving as Minister of the Electronics Industry. At that point he
no longer needed to butter up just average senior officials. Rather, his targets were vice premieres and the
most influential of figures. The Ministry of the Electronics Industry often imported state-of-the-art
electronics from overseas. And thus it was that Jiang, taking advantage of that fact and his position, often
in person brought large-screen televisions and other expensive imported electronics to the homes of highranking officials, claiming they were for the leadership to “try out” and give Jiang guidance in his work.
In front of the most influential figures he would set aside any remnant of dignity and even kneel on the
ground to change TV channels for them.
Some less astute staff in the ministry couldn’t understand why Jiang was doing this. They suggested that a
secretary could be sent to do those sorts of things; the minister didn’t need to go himself. But Jiang would
reply, “It’s conducive to my learning from the more experienced leaders of the Party.” Although some
people in the ministry could see things for what they were and looked down on Jiang’s shoddy conduct,
the senior leaders who were used to being flattered weren’t so sensitive. When they spoke of Jiang Zemin
they would sing his praises, saying, “He is dependable in his work.” By means of these petty tactics Jiang
laid a foundation for his rise to power.
____________________
Notes:
[1] One mu = 1/6 acre.
[2] Robert Lawrence Kuhn, The Man Who Changed China: The Life and Legacy of Jiang Zemin (New York: Crown, 2004), 32.
[3] This was probably the most desirable CCP designation during and around the time of the Cultural Revolution. It meant that one
belonged to the “best” class of people, politically speaking, but was no indicator of academic achievement.
[4] Ye Jianying (1897–1986), a CCP general and Chairman of the Standing Committee of the National People’s Congress from
1978 to 1983.
1. Working His Connections and Fawning on Key Personnel to Become Shanghai’s Leader
It’s as if Jiang Zemin has an indissoluble bond with Shanghai. Though he was a traitor in Nanjing City,
his transfer to Shanghai Jiaotong University allowed him to conceal his traitorous past. His performance
as he worked in the Ministry of Electronics Industry was only mediocre, yet he became Mayor and Party
Committee Secretary of Shanghai Municipality. That gave Jiang an opportunity to feel what it was like to
crush dissent with violence, as he suppressed the outspoken students there. After ascending to the position
of General Secretary of the CCP, Jiang spared no efforts in establishing the aptly named “Shanghai Gang”
to ensure the stability of his power. Tellingly, as soon as the SARS crisis arose Jiang retreated to
Shanghai and went into hiding.
Jiang Zemin’s receiving a position in Shanghai in 1985 was the result of strong endorsement from Chen
Guodong, the Party Committee Secretary of Shanghai Municipality, and Shanghai’s Mayor, Wang
Daohan. Chen and Wang did not act solely for the sake of the state, but also to reciprocate the goodwill of
[Jiang’s uncle,] Jiang Shangqing.
Jiang Shangqing was once Wang Daohan’s immediate superior. During the initial period of the War of
Resistance against Japan, Wang Daohan had held the post of Jiashan County CCP Committee Secretary
in Anhui Province; he reported directly to Jiang Shangqing. Chen Guodong, meanwhile, had become
Anhui Lingbi County’s Magistrate due to Jiang Shangqing’s strong recommendation.
Forty years later, those two CCP cadres with backgrounds in the East China system were both made high
provincial officials. Feeling indebted, they gave maximum support to Jiang Zemin, the supposed foster
child of the deceased Jiang Shangqing.
When we look at the histories of the people who supported Jiang Zemin, we can see that it was not due to
his abilities that Jiang rose to power, but rather, to his connection to a deceased man that purportedly
adopted him.
Every winter CCP elders retreat to Shanghai. This fact gave Jiang many chances to curry favor with
influential officials and move closer to fulfilling his political ambitions. The abilities of Chen Yun and Li
Xiannian to influence, respectively, the CCP’s Central Committee and State Council members, provided
Jiang with the opportunity to maneuver his ascent.
Chen Yun was born in Shanghai. After the Zunyi Meeting, while the Red Army was fleeing to the North,
Chen was ordered to reinstate the CCP’s underground activities in Shanghai. After the CCP came to
power and established its government, Chen, who had simultaneously held the position of Secretary of the
Central Committee Secretariat and Deputy Premier of the State Administrative Council (now known as
the State Council), was also made Director of the country’s Financial and Economic Committee. Virtually
all cadres closely associated with Chen and who supported a planned economy were so-called “leftists”
and politically conservative. Chen’s relative Song Renqiong, who later held the post of Minister of the
Organization Department of the CCP Central Committee, along with Chen’s student Yao Yilin and the
cadres in the East China system, were virtually all from Chen’s clique. The clique also included Chen’s
aid, Zeng Shan, who was the Financial and Economic Committee Director of the East China region and
the father of Zeng Qinghong, a current member of the Standing Committee of the Politburo. Others who
were once in office under Chen Yun included people like Chen Guodong, Wang Daohan, and the Chief of
the Organization Department of the East China Bureau, Hu Lijiao. Li Xiannian, however, was constantly
entangled in conflicts with Deng Xiaoping, asserting his reservations about, and later rejection of, Deng’s
economic “reform and opening-up” policies.
Although Deng Xiaoping was the core leader of the second generation leadership, Chen Yun and Li
Xiannian constantly held him back as they struggled for power. Neither side, however, ever achieved an
absolutely dominant position. Jiang Zemin, who was at the time Mayor of Shanghai, attended to the needs
of and kissed up to both Chen and Li, singing the praises of their economic plans. But at the same time,
Jiang didn’t dare to offend Deng Xiaoping. And in front of Hu Yaobang and Zhao Ziyang the
conservative Jiang Zemin would morph into a completely different person, for he felt it necessary to go
along with and express outwardly an interest in economic reform.
2. A First Sweet Taste of Success in Suppressing Dissent With Violence
Jiang Zemin came to Shanghai during a time when urban reform was just beginning. Citizens were faced
with prices of non-staple food products and other daily basic necessities that unexpectedly rose 17 percent
within just one year. The CCP claimed that the rise in costs was just a precursor to an economic
breakthrough. Not only were there no breakthroughs in the price of goods, however, but the high prices
even led to public discontent and gave rise to a student movement. The students demanded that the
government solve two problems: the increase in living costs and the corruption of government officials.
At that time, it was Hu Yaobang who presided over the CCP Central Committee, so, naturally, Jiang
Zemin presented himself as being part of the reformist camp. Jiang went to a university to make a speech
to more than 10,000 teachers and students. There he acknowledged that the rise in prices was beyond
expectation but explained that the market economy would ultimately stabilize the prices, making them
reasonable. The students believed Jiang at the time. Meanwhile, far away in Beijing was Hu Yaobang,
who had begun actively pushing for political reform.
A series of significant events took place in 1986. In July, not long after doing graduate study at Princeton
University in the U.S., the Vice President of the University of Science and Technology of China (in
Anhui Province), Fang Lizhi, gave a series of speeches advocating democratic principles. In September,
Taiwan’s first opposition party, the Democratic Progressive Party (DPP), founded 14 years earlier, won
the general election and set the stage for political change in the Republic of China (Taiwan). The news
was broadcast on Voice of America and heard by many students inside China. Those who were inspired
by the idea of democracy were particularly excited after learning that Taiwan, having the same language
and racial background as Mainland China, could form an opposition party.
The end of 1986 was the breaking point that prompted students to begin demonstrating. Setting them off
was a stipulation by the Party Committee of the University of Science and Technology that undergraduate
and graduate students were not allowed to run against the designated candidates for the People’s
Representative positions in the elections in Anhui Province. In early December, more than 10,000
students from the university took to the streets twice to demonstrate. The news spread to Shanghai, which
led to an expansion of the movement: students from Shanghai Tongji University and Shanghai Jiaotong
University took to the streets in succession in response, calling for democracy, freedom, equality, and the
abolition of autocratic dictatorship. The outcry later swept across Beijing and all over the country.
Students in Shanghai demanded dialogue with Jiang Zemin as well as, among other things, political
reform, freedom of the press, and a loosening of governmental controls. On Dec. 8 of that year, Jiang and
the Minister of Propaganda of the Shanghai Municipal Party Committee held a dialogue at Shanghai
Jiaotong University with the students. What unfolded was dramatic in several regards.
Jiang Zemin stepped onto the podium, a sheet of paper in hand. He put on his thick glasses, unfolded his
paper, and proceeded to speak about the achievements of the five-year economic plans. The students,
however, were noticeably disinterested—the 3,000-plus students booed and hissed at Jiang. An irate Jiang
looked up, sneered, and stared at the students, trying to identify the perpetrators. The students kept
booing, unfazed. Some even shouted, “That plan of yours, we’ve been reading about it in the newspapers
and seeing it on TV every day. This time you should listen to us!” Other students began shouting slogans.
Jiang Zemin, with sternness in his voice, pointed at the most boisterous student and said, “Jeering at me
won’t get you anywhere. Let me tell you, I’ve seen plenty of upheavals! What’s your name? I dare you to
come up to the podium. I dare you to make a speech!”
To Jiang’s surprise, the student did get up and walk up to the podium. He took the microphone and began
talking confidently about his views on democracy. Then about 10 other students sprang up and went to
the podium, standing face to face with Jiang, ready to debate. Jiang’s legs began to shake as things
escalated. The students demanded freedom of the press, open and unbiased reports on their marches and
demonstrations, and open debates in the form of large posters. The audience directed its attention to the
students making the speeches.
Most shocking to Jiang was that the students went so far as to ask an extremely touchy question: “How
did you become mayor?” Jiang smiled awkwardly in response as he retreated to the edge of the platform.
When people had turned their attention away from him, Jiang signaled to the Minister of Propaganda,
Chen Zhili, to take pictures of each student who came up to the podium. He wanted to take revenge on
them later.
After the students’ emotionally-charged speeches it was finally Jiang’s turn to speak. He said, “As soon
as I entered the campus, I saw your big posters.” Jiang tried hard to force a smile and went on to say,
“You want to set up a government ‘of the people, by the people, and for the people.’ That is from
Lincoln’s Gettysburg address, given on Nov. 19, 1863 to commemorate the martyrs of the American Civil
War. Now I want to ask you, which of you can recite the address verbatim?”
The rowdy students were silent, wondering what tricks Jiang had up his sleeve. Faced with the students’
silence, Jiang, accustomed to the use of showmanship to distract from real issues, regained his
confidence. He plucked up his courage, cleared his throat, and began to recite loudly, in English, the
preamble of the U.S. Constitution and then Lincoln’s 1863 Gettysburg Address. The night before he had
gone over each time and again so as to commit them to memory.
After the Cultural Revolution and at the initial stage of the reform and opening up period, students’
proficiency in English was, to be sure, in general not that high. Jiang Zemin prattled on with his recitation
until he could recite no more. With a triumphant look he asked, “Did you understand that? I tell you, the
situation in China is different from that in America…” When Jiang then began to ramble about how the
leadership of the Party would be necessary for democracy, a student shouted at the top of his lungs, “We
want to have the freedom to march and demonstrate now—as the Constitution guarantees! And to have
news reported freely!” Jiang retracted his forced smile. With a fierce look that camouflaged the faint heart
within, Jiang added, “Whoever blocks traffic and sabotages production is obstructing reforms, and
therefore must bear the political consequences!” The students, bowed neither by persuasion or threat,
remained fervent in their defiance of Jiang Zemin even though they had lost the microphone.
The afternoon’s meeting lasted for over three hours. As the atmosphere grew only increasingly more
tense, Jiang lied and said that he had an appointment concerning foreign affairs and had to leave. Panicstricken and eager to escape, on his way out Jiang accidentally bumped his head on a partially opened
door. Though the cut was not deep it bled much. Jiang couldn’t stand the thought of waiting there, on the
scene, to have his wound dressed, and so he used his hands to cover his forehead, hurriedly walked out,
got into his car, and slipped away. Jiang’s panicked exit was for quite some time the standing joke among
students.
It was surprising that, as mayor of Shanghai, the first thing Jiang did upon returning to his office was to
make a phone call to the Secretary of the Party Committee of Shanghai Jiaotong University, He
Yousheng. Jiang instructed He to go to Chen Zhili and collect the photos of students from that afternoon.
Jiang urged him repeatedly to uncover the students’ names and class years. He Yousheng realized the
seriousness of the matter, and repeatedly assured Jiang he would act accordingly.
Immediately afterwards Jiang Zemin instructed that, since Shanghai Jiaotong University was engaged in
“bourgeois liberalization,” it was to shut down all student organizations and publications; only dance
parties would be allowed henceforth. So it was that Jiang distracted people from their concerns over
democracy and human rights by satisfying their more base desires—a method he has continued to use
through the present. And the tactic proved quite effective. When the student movement started in 1989,
students in different parts of the country marched and organized like wildfire. The students at Shanghai
Jiaotong University, however, closed their doors and held dance parties all through the night, as they had
once before. Not until Beijing students began a hunger strike on May 13, 1989, did many university
students in Shanghai come out to march and express support. But the students at Shanghai Jiaotong
University, now indifferent, continued to be preoccupied, holding dance parties daily. It was only when
the government imposed martial law on May 19, 1989, that the students of Jiaotong University came out
in droves to join the large-scale marches.
The day after Jiang Zemin’s 1986 “dialogue” with the students at Jiaotong University, the students of
Shanghai took to the streets and gathered at the People’s Square, marching all the way to the city
government and demanding further dialogue with Jiang. Their request was granted, but the meeting, from
start to finish, was no different from that of the previous day. Jiang had learned from the first encounter
and used it to his advantage the second time around. He quickly ordered 2,000 police to stand by at the
Square and await his command. Jiang this time, enjoying the protection of the armed forces, was no
longer full of forced smiles. He played tough and refused to give an inch—a chameleon-like change from
only the day before. The dialogue ended in deadlock and the police were used to disperse students by
force; the most rebellious were whisked off by bus. The students dispersed in an uproar. To Jiang the
episode was a taste of sweet success—success in using political might and force to suppress dissidents.
The highly vindictive Jiang would never condone anyone who failed to comply with his demands, much
less students who had defied him and embarrassed him before a crowd. The students whose photos were
taken by Chen Zhili were not in the same class year and thus graduated at different times. In those days,
China had a system whereby the government allocated college graduates to different locations. Jiang
Zemin—the mayor—personally involved himself this time in the petty work of following up to see where
those students were sent. He was not satisfied until each of the students who had spited him were sent off
to the most remote and poverty-stricken areas of China.
3. Trying to Topple Hu Behind the Scenes, Delivering a Cake on a Snowy Night
There is a general rule that almost everyone in political circles knows: the more ruthless a person is with
regard to his subordinates and the public, the more he will toady to his superiors. The fact is, these two
seemingly-at-odds behaviors are meant to achieve one shared purpose: to seize more power and gain
broader control.
Being the mayor of Shanghai, Jiang Zemin had an advantage in terms of advancing his political career.
Namely, Shanghai was a favorite recreation spot for several senior CCP heavyweights. It would have
taken a lot of effort for Jiang to travel all the way to Beijing, and much begging and pleading would have
been required to gain an audience with figures of their stature. And even then it might not have worked.
Little would Jiang, then, pass up a chance to toady when these influential leaders came town. It was a
golden opportunity, he felt. His antics with the visiting leaders were like his recitation of the Gettysburg
Address to student democracy activists: he won their affection and trust through rather deceptive means.
Officials that don’t have political accomplishments and who manage to rise through the ranks have been
known to trample others to achieve their goals. Jiang Zemin fits perfectly into this category.
After the student movement ended, Deng Xiaoping published his speech of Dec. 30, 1986, called, “Take a
Clear-Cut Stand Against Bourgeois Liberalization.” In it he stated, “A rumor is going around Shanghai to
the effect that there is disagreement in the Central Committee as to whether we should uphold the Four
Cardinal Principles and oppose liberalization, and that there is therefore a layer of protection. That’s why
people in Shanghai are taking a wait-and-see attitude towards the disturbances.” Jiang Zemin read Deng
Xiaoping’s speech the day after it was published and realized that Hu Yaobang’s reformist ideas and the
CCP’s conservative bent were incompatible. Chen Yun, Li Xiannian, and their clique had long wanted to
get rid of Hu, but it was Deng Xiaoping who had stood in the way by sustaining Hu politically. Yet now
that Deng had publicly declared his displeasure with what one could describe as Hu’s inefficiency in
dealing with anti-liberalization, the Central Committee’s inclination to purge him gradually intensified.
Deng’s speech was to Jiang pure treasure. Jiang thought that at a critical time such as then, it was
imperative that he declare a completely identical stance as the Central Committee. But he was growing
dejected over the lack of opportunity to speak with Deng Xiaoping or other senior statesmen about the
matter.
Coincidentally in the winter of that year State Chairman Li Xiannian went to Shanghai and stayed at the
city’s guesthouse. One evening Li summoned Jiang and the two had dinner together. He told Jiang that he
was celebrating a birthday on that day. Even though the people in Shanghai were having a hard time
feeding their families after only two years of Jiang’s tenure as mayor, Jiang had other things on his mind.
He was puzzled over something. He had spared no effort in memorizing by heart each birthday of the
senior members of the Central Committee. So how was it Li Xiannian was celebrating his birthday in
winter when he was born on June 23, 1909?
That was before the phrase “keeping a mistress” (bao’ernai) was part of the Chinese lexicon. But
according to The Private Life of Chairman Mao, a book written by Mao’s personal physician, extramarital
affairs and promiscuity were common then among senior officials. Some had said that Peng Dehuai was
purged from his position not because of the Great Leap Forward, but because he had opposed the
Zhongnanhai Performing Arts Troupe. Peng had publicly said, “Although I never dance, I am not against
Chairman Mao and Premier Zhou dancing. But dancing is, after all, dancing. Why must we set up a
‘Zhongnanhai Performing Arts Troupe’ just to dance with the Central Committee’s Chairman? All they
do is bring in beautiful young ladies and lock them up in here for the whole day. The people will
definitely curse if they come to know about this!” At the time almost all the highest-ranking officials were
involved in extramarital affairs, Li Xiannian being no exception. He had a mistress with a background in
nursing. Not only did she take good care of Li, she also bore his son.
Jiang finally realized, then, that it was either the birthday of Li’s mistress or son. He knew he had to do
whatever it took to get a birthday gift to them. While it’s a given that the opinions of one’s sexual partner
carry weight, this holds all the more so for those of a mistress. Jiang had dined with Li in hopes that he
could talk about the Hu Yaobang situation, but now the matter of the birthday took precedence for Jiang.
Jiang suppressed his vexation. As he ate, he inquired attentively about Li’s opinions on Hu. Upon
understanding Li’s attitude towards Hu, Jiang told him that what he had said would benefit Jiang for life
and assured him that he would follow Li’s instructions in handling things. Li was delighted. After dinner
Jiang didn’t stay long. He had something more important to do.
After Jiang arrived home he sent his chauffeur off, claiming he had no further business to attend to. Jiang
watched as the chauffeur drove off. When he was sure that the chauffeur could no longer see him, Jiang
did not enter his home but, rather, sneaked off to buy a large birthday cake. It was getting late by that
point, but Jiang, without the slightest hesitation, boarded a cab alone and headed back to the guesthouse.
When Jiang reached the guesthouse he was told that Li Xiannian was attending to another guest. The
guard however, remembering Jiang, invited him in. Jiang shook his head, though, and stood outside to
wait. Jiang was worried others might discover what he was doing and follow suit; he wanted to be the
only one who looked good.
As luck would have it, it was a bitterly cold and snowy night. Since Jiang was accustomed to having a
chauffeur drive him to and from any destination, he wasn’t prepared for the weather and had only a thin
overcoat on. Little did he expect, however, to wait in the cold for so many hours. He was trembling as he
waited. The guards repeatedly asked Jiang in upon seeing that snow was gathering on his overcoat. But
Jiang just smiled and didn’t respond, knowing that Li Xiannian and his mistress would be all the more
impressed upon seeing Jiang’s coat covered in snow. Jiang thus stood in the snow, cake in hand, for a full
four hours. Still, though, the guest did not exit. The guard attempted several times to talk Jiang out of
waiting. Finally a disappointed Jiang left the cake with the guard and returned home.
When the guest finally left, the guard gave the cake to Li Xiannian. He told Li that Jiang had stood
outside for several hours, his overcoat covered with snow. Li Xiannian was touched and said, “Yong
Jiang’s not a bad guy! There aren’t many people like that around nowadays!”
All of Jiang Zemin’s effort paid off. Not long after he became General Secretary of the CCP Central
Committee, replacing Zhao Ziyang in the wake of the 1989 Tiananmen Massacre.
4. Hu Yaobang Steps Down
According to those present, at the Jan. 16, 1987, democratic-style meeting of Deng Xiaoping, Chen Yun,
Peng Zhen, Bo Yibo, Wang Zhen and others, Hu Yaobang was forced to resign. That is, he was removed
from office. When during the meeting Hu was forced to step down, he was shocked and speechless for
some time. Even his long-time friends had betrayed him and called for his removal. He could see it quite
plainly. Until the day he died, Hu would regret making at that meeting, against his will, “self-criticism”
statements so as to preserve the supposed “unity” of the CCP. In the end he said, “Whether a person
accomplishes things is unimportant, but he must be a decent individual.” After the meeting Hu broke
down and wept openly, heartbroken by the betrayal of erstwhile friends he thought he could trust.
The CCP didn’t want a man with a conscience like Hu Yaobang. A man with a conscience was of no use
to them. Whoever speaks up for the common people poses a threat to the CCP’s autocratic control over
the nation. The political fates of Peng Dehuai, Hu Yaobang and, later, Zhao Ziyang testify to this fact.
The CCP leaders value instead people who fawn over them, engage in double dealings, and show a
ruthlessness in suppressing dissent. Thus it was that senior CCP leaders began considering Jiang Zemin
for a higher position.
In October 1987, Rui Xingwen, the Secretary of the Shanghai Municipal Party Committee who was
always at loggerheads with Jiang Zemin, finally left. Rui could be called a fervent supporter of reform,
and he had close ties with the reform-minded Zhao Ziyang. Jiang Zemin, on the other hand, had for some
time kept close company with the conservative old guard, and thus discriminated against Rui. The
Shanghai Gang that Jiang formed went against Rui on all fronts and prevented him from carrying out his
work. Zhao appointed Rui Secretary of the Central Committee Secretariat, hoping to dissolve the conflict;
Rui thus served as Secretary of the Shanghai Municipal Committee for less than one term.
5. Jealous of Zhu Rongji
Even though Jiang Zemin formed a faction to take full control in Shanghai, citizens incessantly
complained of hardship during his two years as mayor. In 1986 the market economy in many other areas
of the country was doing well. While the rest of the country was happy to see at last an increased supply
of goods, the people of Shanghai still had to use ration cards for many of their purchases.
The underlying reason for Shanghai’s market woes was none other than Jiang’s selfish desire to show off
political “achievements.” In 1986, the Governor of Guangdong Province, Ye Xuanping, turned over to the
central government provincial tax revenues of only 250 million yuan, while Shanghai Mayor Jiang turned
over revenues of 12.5 billion yuan—a staggering 50 times the revenue of an entire province. The
unreasonable act didn’t come free of consequences, though. In a mere two years the people of Shanghai
were in such dire straits they couldn’t buy even the most basic and essential of items.
While Jiang was busy showering senior CCP leaders with praise and flattery, Deng Xiaoping had to
address the serious problems Jiang had caused in Shanghai. Deng had to quickly make “Economic Czar”
Zhu Rongji the mayor of Shanghai in order to clean up Jiang’s mess; Jiang was made Secretary of
Shanghai’s Municipal Party Committee, a position requiring mere lip service and little real work. The
CCP had in place at the time a “Mayoral Responsibility System” in which a mayor would be held to the
things he said. All the same, Jiang’s poor performance in Shanghai—in sharp contrast to what his remarks
had promised—did not prevent him from being promoted from membership in the Central Committee to
membership in the Politburo of the Central Committee (at the 1st Plenary Session of the 13th CCP
Central Committee in November 1987), thus making Jiang part of the CCP’s highest organ of state
power.
Zhu Rongji was neither a descendant of senior CCP officials nor a martyr’s supposed foster child. He had
less influence among the CCP’s inner circle than did Jiang Zemin. Moreover, he had once upon a time
been branded a “rightist” during the anti-rightist campaign of 1957, the result of which was demotion and
banishment to “reform through labor”—punishment which in effect knocked 20 years off of Zhu’s
political career. One could argue, then, that Zhu Rongji’s rise had much to do with genuine abilities and
charisma.
On April 25, 1988, Zhu Rongji spoke before more than 800 delegates from Shanghai. He wore a sharp,
light-tan western suit and a red and black tie. According to the rules of the meeting, the Director and
Deputy Director of the city-level People’s Congress Standing Committee, the Mayor and Deputy Mayors,
and the candidates for the Director of the Supreme People’s Court and the Public Procurator General of
the Supreme People’s Procuratorate could each speak for only 10 minutes, with a five minute cushion.
Each speaker finished within 15 minutes. When Zhu began to speak the audience gave a thunderous
applause. His lively remarks were met multiple times with resounding applause and affirmative laughter.
Jiang Zemin, upon witnessing Zhu’s popularity, almost exploded in jealous rage. He was embarrassed by
Zhu’s rapturous reception.
Jiang had little choice but to fake a smile. When others applauded, he would reluctantly clap once or
twice. When the whole room was rocking with laughter, a forced grin could be made out. But a closer
look suggested that Jiang would rather have cried. Jiang is by nature intolerant when it comes even to
trivial matters—how could he possibly tolerate Zhu’s popularity? It was on that day that the seed of
jealousy toward Zhu was planted in Jiang’s heart.
After Zhu became mayor of Shanghai he handled personally a great many small matters. For example, he
insisted on reading letters written by ordinary citizens and made efforts to reply to those letters himself.
Along with this he managed a great many larger affairs, such as relations with neighboring cities and
provinces, the “Vegetable Basket Project,” addressing traffic problems, and the planning and
development of Shanghai. Zhu once personally went to the upper reaches of the Huangpu River to try to
solve its pollution problems and improve the quality of drinking water in Shanghai. His achievements and
efforts won the hearts of the people.
Jiang Zemin paled in comparison to Zhu in these respects, and thus avoided mentioning Zhu’s
achievements lest he give Zhu credit. The deputy mayors and bureau-level leaders who had it easy under
Jiang had to now, under Zhu Rongji, prove their worth. Zhu has always had a rather unique countenance.
But one stern look from him can strike fear or awe in a person. When he reprimanded deputy mayors and
bureau-level leaders, though, it put them in an awkward position, and this in the presence of others.
Shamed, those people lodged complaints with Jiang. Jiang seized the opportunity to severely rebuke Zhu,
claiming that the mayor was breeding disunity out of a “strong ego.” Zhu had to endure the humiliation of
doing self-criticism before bureau-level leaders.
In 1992 after a famed tour of southern China, Deng Xiaoping noticed that Jiang Zemin was resisting his
program of political reform and opening-up to the outside world. Deng intended at the time to remove
Jiang from office, but gave due consideration to the fact that he had already removed two secretaries
general and that removing yet another might lead others to think poorly of him. Atop this, Jiang was
tipped off as to Deng’s intentions by other Party veterans. Jiang was badly scared and made a 180-degree
reversal by expressing to Deng his firm resolution as to implementing the reform and opening-up policy.
After careful deliberation Deng decided to retain Jiang as General Secretary.
In April 1991, at the 4th Session of the 7th National People’s Congress, Zhu Rongji was elected Vice
Premier of the State Council. On one occasion, Deng pointed at Zhu Rongji and said to Jiang Zemin, “I
don’t know about economics, but he does!” Deng was in fact hinting to Jiang that he (Jiang) knew
nothing of economics, unlike Zhu. In 1992 Zhu became a member of the Standing Committee of the
Politburo of the Central Committee, China’s highest group of leaders. In 1998 Zhu was then appointed
the fifth Premier of China. By that time the incompetent Jiang had been General Secretary, State
Chairman, and Chairman of the Central Military Commission for nine years. Promoting 500 generals in a
year was as if nothing to him.
6. Controlling the Media’s Domain at All Costs
While Jiang Zemin may be incompetent with real tasks, when it comes to boasting few are his match.
Jiang had come to understand the power of the media from his father, who engaged in traitorous
propaganda work while serving under the Japanese authorities and Wang Jingwei’s puppet regime. Jiang
thus devoted much attention to propaganda in the mass media. One maneuver Jiang made was to place
members of his clique in the Department of Propaganda.
Many Shanghai publications are read all across China. So, senior leaders in the Central Party Committee
saw the reports and could tell whether they were complimentary or critical of Jiang Zemin. After Jiang
became mayor he paid special attention to the content of such media reports; sometimes he came across
as almost paranoid. Outsiders might have viewed the World Economic Herald incident, which took place
ahead of the Tiananmen Massacre, as unfortunate, but to Jiang Zemin it was just the natural thing to do.
One time the egotistical Jiang tried to show off his language skills at a press conference by using the
English word “faces” to represent the Chinese word “mianmao” (appearances). The following day, the
Liberation Daily dutifully substituted in its report the English word, “faces” with the Chinese “mianmao,”
so that its readers could understand it. Jiang flew into a rage. He had wanted to show to all his proficiency
in English, even though his usage of the word wasn’t quite right. He never imagined the media would,
with but one stroke of the pen, deny him that pleasure. Jiang ordered his private secretary to call the
Liberation Daily and voice his protest.
From the beginning of 1986 Jiang chaired all meetings with the Department of Propaganda of the
Municipal Party Committee as well as meetings of the senior editors of all major Shanghai media. The
routine became important for Jiang. In October of the same year, a fire broke out in a government
building next to the Huangpu River. Reporters from Shanghai TV rushed to the scene and made a series
of reports. Jiang felt that their prompt and uncensored reports were embarrassing, and was left enraged
upon watching them. At a fire prevention meeting held one week later, Jiang chastised the Department of
Propaganda, saying, “Such reports should not only caution people, but also inform them about the
infrastructure problem in Shanghai and furthermore see that the problem has gradually improved.”
Another example was the meeting Jiang had with provincial People’s Representatives on May 4, 1987.
Jiang learned that a water pipe near the new Shanghai Railway Station had been leaking water into the
streets and left unattended for almost a year. A Representative had written several letters to the Zhabei
District government, only to receive the same reply: “The problem is currently being rectified by the taskunit.”
Everybody knows that Jiang likes to make a show. As mayor he had taken charge of three projects in
all—airports, wharves, and railway stations—each being, naturally, areas where he could draw the most
attention. The water leakage at the new railway station would not only affect Shanghai’s image, but also,
most certainly, affect that of Jiang himself. Jiang thus went in person to the local Water Supply Bureau
and yelled at its workers, declaring, “Find someone to get that water pipe fixed!” The pipe was apparently
fixed the very same day.
A few weeks later, journalist Xu Jingen of the Liberation Daily inquired with the Representative about the
process of having the pipe fixed. He was told that Jiang had personally looked into the matter. Xu thought
that it wasn’t befitting a mayor to personally get involved in such little things, and so he wrote an article,
titled “The Flipside of Attending to Everything Oneself.” The piece, which ran in the People’s Daily on
July 6, 1987, leveled harsh criticism against Jiang for giving such weight to a triviality like the pipe;
normally something of the sort would be handled by the administrative management. The article wrote
that, “It is most abnormal for leaders to get involved in every triviality. This can lead only to subordinate
leaders developing habits of reliance and delay.”
Jiang was furious about the article. Though the article did not state Jiang’s name, it was undoubtedly
referring to the highest level of Shanghai’s leadership. The innuendo at the conclusion of the piece drove
Jiang simply mad. It said, “Some newspapers constantly run articles praising some mayors for solving the
problem of exorbitant taxi fares, but if such things persist, won’t the director of the Price Bureau or the
general managers of taxi companies become redundant?”
Jiang couldn’t stand being mocked on the front page of the Party’s most authoritative newspaper. Thus a
special meeting was held on July 10 and attended by all CCP administrative officials serving in the
propaganda and media organizations of Shanghai. Jiang, pounding the table fiercely with his fist, barked,
“Xu Jingen hasn’t got the slightest idea of how to manage this city. That writer thinks he’s so great. I
think he should step out of his office a little more often and look around!” The editors from the Liberation
Daily who attended the meeting felt uneasy and lowered their heads. The meeting ultimately became a
forum for attacking and blaming Xu and his superiors for the report. If that was not enough, Jiang soon
“rectified” and reorganized the media: editors-in-chief and managers who had a history of truthful
reporting were all removed. From that point on no media in Shanghai dared to comment on Jiang Zemin.
Out of everyone, Jiang Zemin was the one who benefited the most from the Tiananmen Massacre. Yet,
opinions vary as to how Jiang, who was about to retire as Party Secretary of Shanghai City, became the
CCP’s “core,” controlling the three powers—the Party, the government, and the army. Answers to this
puzzle can be found in Robert Kuhn’s fawning biography of Jiang, The Man Who Changed China. The
“biography” is, of course, more political fiction than anything, given that all of Kuhn’s interviewees were
carefully selected. Fortunately, for Chinese people who have lived under tyranny for so many years,
distinguishing fact from fantasy is not that hard. One could say that it is an ability born of life amidst
China’s “Communist Party culture,” and thus a trait unique to that setting.
1. The Fuse—Hu Yaobang’s Death
When Jiang Zemin shut down the liberal Shanghai-based newspaper World Economic Herald, he was
laying, knowingly or not, the groundwork for gaining the highest authority possible within the Chinese
Communist Party. It was thus that Kuhn wrote heavily about the Herald event.
Early in 1989, the economic reforms pushed forward by Deng Xiaoping breathed new life into China, but
created, at the same time, some disturbing phenomena. Although the national economy had continually
grown and ever more products had appeared on the market, the central government’s tax revenue from
China’s provinces had reduced by a third. The inflation rate began approaching 20 percent. The rising
prices and attendant fear-born purchases became a part of urban life. More and more of the state-owned
enterprises (SOEs) suffered losses and bankruptcy, leaving thousands of SOE workers jobless. Conflicts
between the vested interests of the new economic system and those of the old grew more pronounced.
Everyone was aware of the fact that some businessmen were getting rich while many an SOE worker and
technician had lost his worker benefits and pensions. The number of jobless became huge—so huge that
one could say a new class came about. The income gap between rich and poor was widening rapidly.
During that time period, what people hated most was official profiteering. Around 1985 China began
adopting a “dual pricing system” for the purchase prices of farming products, wholesale prices of major
industrial products, and goods that were in short supply. That is, products that were within the state’s plan
were purchased at state-stipulated prices, while products that went beyond the state’s plan were purchased
at market prices that were much higher than state prices. The goal was to solve the problem of enormous
excess demand for material products and to ensure that mandatory state plans would be carried out at low
cost. Yet “official profiteers,” as they became known, who possessed “official documents” bought goods
that were in short supply—such as steel—at state prices and then sold them at market prices. Market
prices could be as much as several times higher than state prices.
With increasing frequency CCP government officials were using their positions and power to line their
own pockets and enhance their prestige. And this was done, no less, without involvement in doing actual
business. Rather, they gave profitable business projects and recommendations in areas that required
quotas to their relatives and friends. Many of the Beijing representative offices and first-class hotels, for
example, have a unique group of individuals. These individuals, who have millions of yuan in hand, fix
their eyes on Beijing officials from various ministries. Their goal is to spend money on them in exchange
for import permits and various quotas. Once they obtain such documents, they use them to make tens of
millions of yuan or even hundreds of millions. The CCP’s one-dimensional reform thus created a rather
deformed system, one which fostered an excellent environment for government officials to collude with
businessmen. These dirty officials, being all about profit, would do anything imaginable at the expense of
the public, for in the end the margins would be born by the people all the same. In 1988, a stunning 356.9
billion yuan were generated by the price difference created by the dual-pricing system, which accounted
for 30 percent of the GDP that year. Abusing their positions and power, children and relatives of the
ruling elite grew rich overnight by selling their official documents.
The term “official profiteering” itself reflects the CCP’s corruption. The people’s wish for comprehensive
reform, like a hidden undercurrent, was rippling through society. At any moment a spark could have set
off a series of explosions.
On April 15, 1989, Hu Yaobang, an open-minded reformer who had been virtually ousted from the post
of General Secretary of the CCP, suffered a sudden heart-attack at a meeting of the Party’s politburo. One
week later Hu passed away. His death filled the people’s hearts with sorrow and loss. Many harbored
deep resentment even, feeling that the prospects of democratic reform would now be severely impacted.
On that very night in April, students at Peking University began making wreaths on campus in
commemoration of his death; large lettered posters could be seen everywhere, including on walls and
trees. Between April 15–17, commemorative poetry appearing on large lettered posters bespeckled the
campuses of Peking University, Qinghua University, the People’s University, Beijing Normal University,
China University of Political Science and Law, and many other schools, each wishing to mark Hu’s
passing. On Monday, April 17, several thousand students left their campuses and walked to Tiananmen
Square. They laid down wreaths at the foot of the People’s Memorial Monument, held banners reading
“In Memory of Hu Yaobang,” and shouted slogans such as, “Eliminate Corruption,” “Rule the Country
by Law,” and “Down with Bureaucracy!” Meanwhile, students around the country echoed their actions
with large-scale demonstrations, assemblies, and petitioning activities. Within days the student movement
grew still broader, calling for a dialogue between leaders of the country and the students. The goal was
now to promote political reform and have the country foster democracy and rule of law.
On the evening of April 25, China Central Television (CCTV) broadcast several times on its National TV
News Program an editorial from the People’s Daily, titled “We Must Unequivocally Oppose the
Turmoil.” The editorial condemned the students’ actions and stated they had “disturbed social order.”
They also alleged that the nature of the students’ actions was “illegal” and called for an end to the
commotion. The next day the actual editorial was published in the People’s Daily.
The editorial declared that, “This is a plot,” “Its purpose is to demoralize the people and disrupt the entire
country,” and that “Its ultimate goal is to fundamentally negate the leadership of the Chinese Communist
Party, to negate the entire socialist system,” among other outlandish claims.
The April 26 editorial depicted the student movement as one of “turmoil,” a designation the students
found terribly irksome. As May 4—a date which usually memorialized the historic student protests (of
1919) that galvanized Chinese patriotism shortly after the Treaty of Versailles—approached, the student
movement once again expanded. Several days earlier there had been a march led by several older
professors. They held a white banner with words from a well-known author saying, “Having Kneeled
Down for So Long, Get up and Walk Around.” Many of the seniors began to reflect on the last few
decades, times full of tumult. It had been a time when Chinese intellectuals were indeed down on their
knees, kneeling before the Party, forced to sing its praises. They had no chance to stand up and project an
independent voice of conscience. It was in fact the senior professors who were at the front of the march.
As something like this had never happened during the CCP’s entire reign, it was perceived as ominous.
On May 13, the students went on hunger strike in Tiananmen Square to call for a dialogue on equal
grounds between the government and the students. Their hope was that the government would take
concrete measures to solve the country’s problems. Meanwhile thousands of Beijing civilians,
government officials, and journalists poured into the streets to support the students.
Parallel to the April 26 People’s Daily editorial was a “cleansing” campaign against the World Economic
Herald, led by Jiang Zemin. The action added fuel to the fire. Jiang, as Party Secretary of Shanghai,
pushed many of the Party elders to use force and bloodshed to achieve “stability.”
2. The Herald Event
The CCP regime lacks any legitimacy, and as such is perpetually worried over how to maintain power.
The behavior, thoughts, and actions of Hu Yaobang and Zhao Ziyang—who were seen as
“unsatisfactory” by the Central Committee of the Party—only exacerbated those worries. It became
critical for the CCP to find a qualified general secretary for the Party. Jiang Zemin’s handling of the entire
Herald closing won the confidence of senior CCP members, and soon they believed he should be Hu’s
successor.
At the beginning of the 1989 student movement, participation was limited to students and a few
professors. The turning point that morphed a small student movement into a broader national one was
Jiang’s campaign to “clean up,” as he saw it, the World Economic Herald in Shanghai.
As many may know, Hu Yaobang’s death triggered the Herald event. The founder and chief editor of the
World Economic Herald was Qin Benli, an intellectual in his seventies who news editors held in the
highest regard. His publication promoted democratic ideas and won the trust of over 300,000 highlyeducated readers. It even had significant weight in setting the tone of national-level discussions.
On the fourth day after Hu Yaobang passed away (April 19), the editors of the Herald held a forum. Qin
thought the forum should hit upon pertinent social and political issues, rather than just go through the
usual motions of memorializing the late leader. Qin’s suggestion was agreed upon by all participants. At
the forum another figure, Dai Qing, talked about the CCP’s 70-year history and the fate of its past general
secretaries. She argued that not one Party general secretary had met with a good ending; all had been
replaced through a non-procedural “power transition.”
On April 20, the Shanghai Municipal Propaganda Department was informed that the Herald would run a
special column mourning Comrade Hu Yaobang. Chen Zhili, who was Head of the Propaganda
Department (now Minister of Education), immediately reported this to Jiang Zemin. (This angered Jiang
and other officials because Hu Yaobang had fallen out of favor with the Party.) On the afternoon of April
21, Jiang sent Zeng Qinghong, Municipal Deputy Party Secretary, along with Chen Zhili to speak with
Qin Benli, the editor-in-chief. Qin Benli informed them that the Herald would indeed publish in its next
issue several pages on the April 19 forum that took place in Beijing; the forum had been jointly held by
the Herald and the New Observation Press in commemoration of Comrade Hu Yaobang. Zeng and Chen
asked Qin to promptly send them a proof version of the forthcoming Herald issue so that they could
examine it before publication. At 8:30 the next evening during a discussion about the proof version of
issue 439 of the Herald, Zeng demanded that Qin cut the column by some 500 words. The contents to be
discarded were mainly speeches by Yan Jiaqi and Dai Qing.
Qin Benli held his ground, however, stressing that the government had approved implementation of a
system that gave a chief editor final say as to the content of his newspaper. He went on to say, “If
anything goes wrong, I will take responsibility for it. In any case, Comrade Jiang Zemin hasn’t read the
proof version yet, and neither the municipality nor the Propaganda Department should bear responsibility
for any consequences stemming from its publication. “
Zeng Qinghong angrily replied, “Now, the issue isn’t who is going to be responsible for it, but how it will
impact society as a whole.” Qin insisted that the decision be left to him, and in the end didn’t agree to cut
anything. Unable to persuade Qin, Zeng reported back to Jiang Zemin what had taken place.
Jiang hadn’t imagined that Qin Benli would be so stubborn, nor that even Zeng Qinghong would fail to
persuade him. So he told Wang Daohan, the chairman of the Herald, about the matter. With Wang now
behind him, Jiang demanded of Qin, in severe terms, that he make changes to the final version. Wang
further employed Party logic to persuade Qin. Jiang and Wang went beyond pressuring Qin for revisions
to, by way of sugarcoated words, attempting to sway him into removing the final version altogether. By
that point, however, over 100,000 copies of the newspaper had already been printed, with 400 having
been delivered to private retailers. The same volume of papers had been sent directly to Beijing. Though
20,000 copies were thereafter pulled from circulation, the impact had already been made. The article had
been printed in full.
On the morning of April 22, the funeral for Hu Yaobang was held in the Great Hall of the People.
President Yang Shangkun hosted the funeral, which was attended by top officials. While Jiang Zemin,
who was in Shanghai, was opposed to the funeral, he nevertheless sent a wreath to Beijing as a sign of
“mourning.”
The evening after the People’s Daily published its editorial, “We Must Unequivocally Oppose the
Turmoil,” Jiang hosted an emergency meeting of the municipal Party secretaries that lasted until 1 a.m.
He urged that quick and drastic measures be taken. Earlier that day, at a large meeting attended by 14,000
CCP members Jiang had announced the dismissal of Qin Benli from his position and the restructuring of
the World Economic Herald.
On April 27, Jiang sent Liu Ji and Chen Zhili, the leaders of the Shanghai City Restructuring Leadership
Group, to take charge of the Herald. Chen, every bit as relentless as Jiang, followed Jiang’s every order.
Chen fired all Herald employees and barred all of its editors from further media work of any type.
Chen, a loyal associate of Jiang, went to visit Qin during Qin’s last days of life. At the time Qin had been
suffering from cancer and was bedridden. Chen initially came across as kind and agreeable. While people
initially thought that she must have had at least a trace or two of human feeling, to their surprise, what did
Chen do but proceed to read aloud to the dying Qin a CCP disciplinary note against him. Her goal
couldn’t have been clearer: she wanted Qin to not only pass away but to do so without any peace.
The reform-minded efforts of the Herald editors ultimately won the support and admiration of many
people both in China and beyond. Yet in Kuhn’s biography of Jiang the Herald incident was completely
reworked and repackaged in keeping with Jiang’s agenda. Qin and the other editors are described by
Kuhn as “duplicitous,” [1] as “finally dispensing with pretense,” [2] as having made “an argument that
challenged logic” [3] and having perpetrated an “explicit act of defiance” [4] against Jiang. In Kuhn’s
version of the story Jiang, in the most unlikely of spins, is portrayed as the victim, his group having been
somehow “deceived.” [5]
3. Composing a Prelude to the Massacre
The strong-arm handling of the Herald incident by Jiang Zemin and his cohorts triggered media protests
that shook Shanghai and quickly spread throughout the entire nation, breeding, almost overnight, a
firestorm. The next day large-scale demonstrations took place in the streets of Shanghai. The banners
used read, “Return Our Herald,” and called for restoration of Qin Benli’s position and freedom of speech.
Famous members of the Shanghai Writers’ Association participated in the demonstrations. Notable
members of Beijing’s intellectual elite and news media called on Jiang to retract his decisions against Qin
and the Herald.
The students sitting in front of the Shanghai government building, meanwhile, proceeded to shout
slogans. Bystanders seemed sympathetic, as suggested by one observer’s remark that, “I agree with their
slogans. The biggest mistake now would be to not move toward democracy.” Others said, “We should
value the student outpouring of patriotism” and that “This is not so-called ‘turmoil’!” An estimated 8,000
students gathered at the Bund [6] that night. It was the largest student demonstration in Shanghai since the
democracy movement had begun. The students didn’t disperse from the city government building until
10:05 that evening.
Jiang grew frightened. As Kuhn tells it, Jiang claims, “We tried to estimate the probable fallout over the
rectification [sic] of the World Economic Herald,” though the former ruler admits, “it turned out to be
worse than our estimate.” [7] Kuhn also writes of Jiang that “his actions had triggered the ‘big
demonstration in Shanghai'” [8] Such terms, however, grossly understate not only the intensity and nature
of the reaction, but its scope as well—mass demonstrations took place in Beijing too.
In Beijing two reporters submitted a petition with the signatures of 1,013 Beijing reporters to the PanChina Journalists Association, requesting a dialogue between government officials in charge of the media
and reporters. When Li Datong, Director of the Division of Education and Science at the China Youth
Daily, submitted the petition he told the Chinese and foreign media that the petitioners were from over 30
news media, of which were included the People’s Daily, the Xinhua News Agency, Economic Daily,
China Youth Daily, Beijing Daily, and Beijing Evening News. The petition quoted a May 4 speech by
Zhao Ziyang so as to argue that it was necessary for government officials overseeing the media to meet
with media reporters regarding an unusual event occurring in the press. The petition listed three topics for
dialogue, the first of which was the controversial dismissal of Qin Benli as editor-in-chief of the Herald.
Qin was, in that role, in principle responsible for the content of the newspaper, but what unfolded proved
otherwise. The discrepancy was of primary concern to those calling for media reform.
On the evening of April 27, Jiang Zemin, in a state of panic, called Li Rui, who was former Executive
Vice Minister of the CCP Central Organization Ministry and a member of the CCP Central Advisory
Commission. The call lasted for more than 40 minutes. Jiang begged Li to speak to Li’s connections in
Beijing on Jiang’s behalf, and inquire about the state of things in Beijing. Jiang told Li that he could
“hardly bear it.”
Zhao Ziyang, then General Secretary of the CCP, returned from North Korea on April 30. That evening
Jiang along with Zeng Qinghong flew to Beijing to report to Zhao. Zhao met with them immediately.
After the briefing, Jiang asked Zhao, “What do you think of the way I handled the Herald incident?” Zhao
deferred for the moment and instead asked Jiang, “What do you think?”
Jiang was ambiguous. He knew the chasm between himself and Zhao had by then grown wide. Zhao
glanced at Jiang and said, “We don’t have time to talk about this issue right now.” Jiang then pleaded, “If
Comrade Ziyang doesn’t give an opinion, Qinghong and I won’t be able to do our jobs well or know what
to tell others in Shanghai.”
Zhao was forced to speak his mind. “The City Council of Shanghai handled the World Economic Herald
issue too hastily,” Zhao said. “A small problem was made big, forcing the city government down a dead
end path.” He then turned and left. Those who were present say that Jiang was stunned. He stared at
Zhao’s back, dazed. For nearly 10 minutes he was speechless.
Zhao was apparently quite dissatisfied with Jiang’s handling of the issue and the massive protests it
spawned. His sharp words scared Jiang deeply. Jiang’s closest associate, Chen Zhili, told Jiang, “If the
central government asks who is responsible, I will say it was all me. You won’t be implicated.” Although
that gave Jiang some sense of ease, he still called around to his connections, hoping to know what the
Party elders thought. He found that opinions in the central government were split and that what Zhao said
didn’t represent the entire central government.
On May 13, 600 students, mostly from universities in Beijing, began a hunger strike in Tiananmen
Square. Other students and citizens came to Tiananmen to support them. Reporters from other countries
began to focus their lenses and attention there. Journalists accused the Shanghai Party Secretary, Jiang
Zemin, of dealing the democratic movement a major blow. Meanwhile some 4,000 students in Shanghai
gathered in front of the Municipal Party Committee building to support the students on hunger strike in
Beijing. The students urged the Municipal Party Secretary, Jiang, to state his position. Jiang was now
aware of the situation in the central government, and because of that refused to show himself. The
students, in turn, were enraged. To calm the situation Jiang went to a hospital to visit one of the student
demonstrators and said a few nice words. Kuhn reveals, however, that, “At the same time, he sent a
telegram to the Party Central Committee fully supporting its decision to impose martial law.” [9]
4. Party Elders Find a Reliable Successor
Tension within the CCP escalated during the Politburo meeting in mid-May. Some felt that Jiang didn’t
handle the students’ legitimate requests well, and thus asked Jiang to talk directly to the students and to
declare their movement patriotic and legal. Zhao Ziyang frankly offered that since the Herald incident
“was started by the Shanghai City Council, it should also be ended by the Shanghai City Council.” Zhao’s
open criticism of Jiang—who was by then favored by Chen Yun and Li Xiannian—angered a number of
senior Party members.
In Beijing the hunger strikes continued. Students demanded that the government retract the April 26
editorial published by the People’s Daily and that the meeting between the central leadership and the
students be broadcast live on television. To an autocratic government, however, the requests were out of
the question.
To the CCP, more embarrassing still was the arrival of President Mikhail Gorbachev, visiting from the
former Soviet Union. The hundreds of reporters who came to Beijing for the visit knew there was bigger
news in town to capture. The spotlight was shone where the Beijing government least wanted it.
The Politburo meeting ended in conflict, no solution at hand. Lacking any real power at that point, Zhao
Ziyang knew what he would face. Early in the morning on May 19, Zhao went to Tiananmen Square to
meet with the students who were on hunger strike. He was in tears. He had not asked for approval from
the Politburo to go, nor did he feel he needed to ask the Party elders. He represented only himself, doing
something he wanted to do. At 10 p.m. that evening, Li Peng reiterated the central government’s position
that “the disturbance must be sternly terminated.” Two hours later, around midnight, a loudspeaker in
Tiananmen Square declared martial law.
On May 19, after Li Peng’s speech, Jiang quickly expressed firm support of the central government’s
decision. The timely gesture was made before any other provincial or city leaders had responded, making
for an effect similar to when Jiang delivered the cake to Li Xiannian. Jiang’s declaration, to be sure, gave
Party elders the sense that they had found a reliable successor. Or as Kuhn documents it, “Senior Party
officials state that at this time, on May 20, the decision was made to ‘nominate Jiang Zemin to become
the new general secretary of the Central Committee of the CPC.'” [10]
5. Another Critical Step Before the Massacre
There was another critical step that took place before the massacre—a step which, if absent, might have
made for a dramatically different situation in China. Although on May 20 the Party elders decided to
nominate Jiang for the new General Secretary of the CCP, Jiang still had to take this step and clear
several obstacles prior to the massacre before he could become General Secretary. Only then, once he was
successful, would the Party elders finally entrust Jiang with the position of General Secretary of the CCP.
Deng Xiaoping secretly called Jiang to Beijing on May 21. Not knowing what to expect, Jiang anxiously
went to meet with Deng in Xishan, a part of Beijing. To his surprise, Deng praised Jiang’s handling of the
Herald, and said that Shanghai did a much better job than Beijing at receiving Gorbachev. Jiang was quite
relieved. He felt content, now, with not having listened to Zhao Ziyang; the consequences would have
been grave.
Deng observed the sudden change in Jiang’s expression, and told him that there was another critical task
to be handled. Deng asked Jiang to detain Wan Li, Chairman of the People’s Congress, in Shanghai. Wan
was on a state visit to Canada at the time and would return to China earlier than scheduled. Deng had
changed Wan’s flight route in order for Wan to land in Shanghai rather than Beijing. Jiang’s task was to
convince Wan to support the decision of the Party elders; failure to do so would mean that Wan couldn’t
return to Beijing. Deng explained to Jiang that 57 standing members of the People’s Congress had
requested a meeting to discuss the legality of Li Peng’s declaration of martial law in Beijing. Were Wan
to return to Beijing to host the meeting, the situation could quickly take a turn for the worst and spiral out
of control. Jiang, who had just a moment before felt relieved, again grew anxious. He knew it would not
be an easy task. If anything went wrong his future would be ruined.
Deng Xiaoping seemed to know what was on Jiang’s mind, and said in a light tone that yesterday the
inner circle had already decided to give Jiang the position of General Secretary. Some, Deng indicated,
had merely expressed a wish to wait a little longer. This removed any hesitation on Jiang’s part and
replaced it with elation. For this position, the acme of power in the CCP, Jiang would have even knifed
Wan were he asked to.
On May 23, Jiang returned to Shanghai. When Wan’s plane landed at the Shanghai Airport on May 25 at
3 p.m., Jiang welcomed him with what was said to be “Deng’s personal letter to him [Wan].” Wan and
Deng were friends who had played bridge together, and so it was that Deng beseeched Wan, writing,
“Please give me a hand at this critical moment, for the sake of our decades of friendship.”
Wan did stay in Shanghai for six days, ultimately—days that were agonizing for Wan. Jiang had been
instructed to keep Wan in Shanghai until he expressed support for Deng. On May 27, days later, Wan
finally announced publicly that he agreed with the Central Committee’s order to enact martial law.
Jiang’s coercive handling of Wan was akin to severing Zhao Ziyang’s right hand.
Jiang Zemin had cleared away the last obstacle in advance of the Tiananmen massacre.
On that same day, May 27, Deng organized a meeting with eight senior Central Committee members
meant to decide upon the candidate for the position of General Secretary. Earlier on Deng had nominated
Qiao Shi and Li Ruihuan, but Chen Yun had advocated strongly for Jiang Zemin. Li Xiannian and Bo
Yibo played a pivotal role in Deng’s switching to Jiang Zemin. Li Xiannian had argued that, “Although
he lacks experience in the Central Committee, Jiang Zemin has a political mind, is in the prime of his life,
and can be trusted.”
Thus it was history’s designs, it would seem, that thrust Jiang to the apex of power. And it was Jiang who
became the greatest beneficiary of the Tiananmen Massacre of June 4.
6. Climbing to the Apex of Power
In mid-May, Jiang was again ordered, knowing not what fate awaited him, to Beijing.
Shortly after Jiang arrived there, Chen Yun’s secretary came to notify Jiang, stating, “Comrade Chen Yun
is waiting for you.” Chen and Jiang talked very openly. Chen spoke directly, saying, “[Deng] Xiaoping
asked me to inform you that you will be coming to work in the Central Committee, replacing Comrade
Zhao Ziyang.” Jiang said not a word, knowing that at the critical moment a single wrong word could cost
him everything he had worked for. Before he had come to Beijing Jiang heard that a group of powerful
senior Central Committee members had met twice at Deng Xiaoping’s home. He had also heard that it
was Chen Yun who first proposed to have Jiang be Zhao’s successor. Chen had listened to Li Xiannian’s
view that the Shanghai-based Jiang had a strong sense of Party discipline and stood his ground on martial
law. But Jiang really couldn’t make out what Chen Yun’s own opinion of him was, and it was on this
account that Jiang was all ears, but not his usual chatting self, at the meeting with Chen.
Jiang was much more relaxed when he met with Li Xiannian. After inquiring about the situation in
Shanghai, Li Xiannian said, “You don’t need to see [Deng] Xiaoping right now, since the decision was
made based on his wishes. He will surely ask to talk to you again.” Jiang knew then that his efforts to win
over Li Xiannian hadn’t been in vain. He remembered then Zeng Qinghong’s suggestion to listen more
and talk less. Jiang thus responded with only brief answers, preferring to give merely a slight bow,
lowering his head in a gesture of acknowledgement.
Returning to his room, Jiang promptly made three phone calls. The first was to Zeng Qinghong, to whom
he said, “It doesn’t look like I will be returning [to Shanghai].”
Zeng asked nervously, “Didn’t you plan on returning in a couple of days?”
To which Jiang responded, “I am going to be working here. You should come here right away…
tomorrow.”
The second phone call was to the former Shanghai mayor Wang Daohan, to whom Jiang said, “I’d like to
have your support in the future.”
The third call was made to his wife Wang Yeping, asking her to make preparations for a move to Beijing.
His wife, however, uttered not a word.
Now that the final decision had been made, at eight o’clock in the evening Li Peng, Yao Yilin, and others
waited at the Great Hall of the People for Jiang, wishing to treat him to dinner. Jiang felt like he was
dreaming.
The appointed time at which the army was to enter Beijing had been delayed several times. It wasn’t until
June 1 that a new plan was settled upon; the army was now to enter on the night of June 3. As the newly
appointed General Secretary, Jiang from the time of late May begun reading and approving official
documents.
The day that shocked the world, June 4, 1989, [11] finally came and passed. It has now been over 16
years since that fateful day, and Jiang still wishes the date could be fully erased from people’s minds. But
every year around that date people still use pictures and speeches to commemorate those who died in the
massacre on Tiananmen Square. This, more than anything, is what Jiang doesn’t want to see happen.
When Jiang departed from his post as General Secretary and President of state in 2002, he left the
Standing Committee of the Politburo with several rules. One, tellingly, was to never reverse the judgment
passed by the Party on the nature of the Tiananmen Massacre. The reason for this, of course, is that Jiang
was a key figure in the tragedy and the one who benefited most.
7. A Never-Ending Nightmare
After the Massacre the days grew long and challenging for Jiang. Life, to this day, has been filled with
worry that someone might redress the victims or Zhao Ziyang. The scene of Zhao visiting the students on
the Square, now well known, stands as evidence of Zhao’s reluctance to harm the students. Little is more
annoying to Jiang, thus, than the replaying of such footage around the date of June 4; it is a most poignant
reminder of Jiang’s shameful road to power. And it was on these grounds that Jiang, gripped by
resentment and unable to forget Zhao’s criticism, began to have Zhao’s living quarters in Beijing
monitored and controlled even more than before. So strict were the measures that even security staff were
left baffled.
After the Massacre most every major media operation the world over carried the picture of a young man
who blocked with his own body, unarmed, the path of a moving tank. The man’s name was Wang Weilin.
International media praised, with sincere respect, the courage with which Wang peacefully protested;
some called him the hero of the century. Wang’s very existence itself became a reminder of the Massacre.
Jiang was terribly upset over the matter and issued a secret order to find the young man; at the time he
had not yet been identified. Wang was captured and executed in secret at Jiang’s orders.
In 2000 Jiang was interviewed by Mike Wallace, the veteran CBS “60 Minutes” reporter in the United
States. Wallace took out Wang Weilin’s picture and asked Jiang, “Do you admire this young man’s
courage?” Jiang offered a surprising reply, “He absolutely was not arrested. I don’t know his
whereabouts.” To the experienced reporter, it was telling that Jiang had answered an unasked question.
Another hero of the Tiananmen protests was Xu Qinxian, the army commander of battalion No.38. Xu
Qinxian was respected by Chinese everywhere for his refusal to carry out orders to fire at the students.
Yet Jiang, as Chairman of the Military Committee, ordered a secret “trial” of Xu and imprisoned him for
five years.
At a press conference soon after the Massacre, a French reporter asked Jiang about a female graduate
student who was arrested for participating in the demonstrations and later gang-raped in a Sichuan
Province prison. Jiang’s reply couldn’t have been more alarming. He declared, “She deserved it!”
Important to Jiang is that memory of the Massacre be weakened, blurred, and distorted over time such
that the event will not be redressed or the government’s power challenged. Jiang went about effecting this
with utmost skill. In his youth Jiang had seen firsthand his biological father, Jiang Shijun, employ
propaganda to disguise the Nanjing massacre; indeed, with time, collective memory of the massacre
faded. This time around, Jiang Zemin had at his disposal far more sophisticated technologies from which
to draw. He ordered the production of television programs that would play up so-called “acts of savagery”
by the student demonstrators. Military vehicles were purposely incinerated to create shocking footage for
the program. The idea was to convince China that the army had no alternative but to fire at the students.
Before long, sure enough, many who had not themselves been present at the Massacre started to believe
the lies. Many came to think that there had indeed been a rebellious “uprising” in Beijing.
Along with this, Jiang gave orders that persons from all walks of life who had participated in the
demonstrations and supported the students, or who had resisted the suppression or abetted the civilians,
all be exposed and punished, barring none. And so it is that discussion and memory of the Massacre have
been, through a formula of lies and intimidation, basically snuffed out inside China. Many simple,
historical facts related to the Tiananmen events are unknown to China’s people. And they will, it seems,
continue to be, so long as nobody who participated in the events dares to revisit them. For example,
Chinese people debate about whether the CCP’s tanks did in fact crush demonstrators on that fateful
night, though to those outside of China who have access to free information, the answer is quite clear.
Gao Wenqian—the former Administrative Commissioner of the Party Literature Research Center of the
CCP Central Committee, team leader of the Zhou Enlai Biography Research Team, and author of The
Later Years of Zhou Enlai—has, however, answered that question in unequivocal terms. He has stated
that:
The question of whether tanks ran over the demonstrators at Liubukou was the most controversial of
questions taken up by government agencies. It was later proven that the tanks actually did. When I
traveled outside of China, many people that were there [on Tiananmen] at the scene talked with me about
it. At Xinhuamen and Liubukou tanks chased after students who had withdrawn from Tiananmen Square.
Many people were crushed on the spot. Although the scene wasn’t as major, news of it still traveled
quickly. I do know that a doctoral student who was in the Ministry of Propaganda witnessed it. His
dormitory was close to Liubukou, he was one of the promising young leaders in training at the Ministry
of Propaganda, and was well trusted. [12]
Gao has further explained that:
At the time, the account that tanks ran over people was made out to be big-time “slander.” If this were
spread, the consequences would be… No matter what the explanation, it was wrong for the tanks to chase
people and crush them. That’s why the Party needed to “clear up the rumor.” In my work unit the people
in charge of investigations acted pretty tough. They kept asking, ‘Who did you hear it from? Who told
you that?’ Eventually it was traced back to the doctoral student at the Ministry of Propaganda. They
dragged him to the martial law military unit, where he was interrogated and tortured. ‘Did you see it
yourself?’ they asked. He replied, ‘Yes, I did. I am a member of the Party, and I have to be honest with
the Party. I will admit to what I actually saw. I did see it.’ Then they threatened him with a 1,000-volt
electric baton, asking again, ‘Did you see it?’ The doctoral student insisted, and was shocked by the
baton. He passed out right there. When he regained consciousness they asked him again, ‘Did you see it?’
His replay was still, ‘Yes, I saw it.’ He was again electrocuted and again passed out. This was repeated
several times. At last, after several rounds, the student said, ‘No, I didn’t see it.’… I heard that his
physical health was badly damaged from the torture. And he became mentally unstable. This wasn’t just a
matter of electric shocks—it was a mental torture, too… The CCP claims that they speak the truth, and
that honesty is important. It turns out that the CCP totally prohibits people from speaking the truth. It
sometimes reminds me of a saying, ‘How can lies written with ink hide truth written with blood?’ [13]
The story of Fang Zheng is every bit as telling as it is chilling. Fang was a graduate student from Beijing
University of Physical Education whose legs were run over by a tank and severed.
Sixteen years after the massacre, during an interview with The Epoch Times, Fang shared the following
about the incident:
I didn’t have time to dodge [the tank], and was knocked to the ground. The tank then ran over my legs.
Tank treads have many chains and wheel gears turning in them, and I felt my pants getting pulled into the
tread gears by the chains, and there was tremendous force. I was slightly conscious, and could tell that my
body was being dragged on the ground for a ways. Later the doctors at the hospital told me that my head,
back, and shoulders had been bruised and lacerated. After the chains on the treads shredded my pants and
macerated my legs, I fell to the ground and rolled to the side of the street near the sidewalk fence… I saw
the scene later by coincidence when I was browsing the Internet using Dynamic Web. I saw what had
happened to me that night. I think it’s available on websites hosted by some countries outside of China.
You can see a person lying on the ground by the fence, his legs gone. That person is me. Both my legs
were partially torn off. My right leg was severed at the upper thigh, the left leg at the knee. [14]
* * *
In the process of hiding the truth, shifting the blame, and purging those who spoke the truth, Jiang Zemin
came to have decisive control over the government’s propaganda machinery and the use of violence.
Later Jiang would employ similar tactics to persecute the practitioners of Falun Gong.
Much is the blood that stains Jiang’s hands. Try as he may to erase the past, every year there will be a
June 4 to remind Jiang of his crimes.
____________________
Notes:
[1] Robert Lawrence Kuhn, The Man Who Changed China: The Life and Legacy of Jiang Zemin (New York: Crown, 2004), 151.
[2] Kuhn, The Man Who Changed China, 152.
[3] Ibid., 152.
[4] Ibid., 152.
[5] Ibid., 153.
[6] A popular Shanghai tourist attraction.
[7] Kuhn, The Man Who Changed China, 156.
[8] Ibid., 156.
[9] Ibid., 161.
[10] Ibid., 162. “CPC” and “CCP” are interchangeable, though the Chinese government generally uses the for mer, while those
outside use the latter.
[11] That is, the date of the Tiananmen Square Massacre, in which as many as three thousand student demonstrators were killed at
the hands of the army by gunfire and tanks.
[12] Gao Wenqian, interview by Lin Dan, Inside China, June 7, 2004. A video recording of the interview and its transcription (in
Chinese) are available online at: http://www.epochtimes.com/gb/4/6/7/n561548.htm.
[13] Ibid.
[14] Fang Zheng, interview by Feng Changle, Da Jiyuan, May 31, 2005. An audio recording of the interview and its transcription (in
Chinese) are available online at: http://www.epochtimes.com/gb/5/5/31/n938787.htm.
The war in the Persian Gulf between the United States and Iraq broke out one year after Jiang became
General Secretary of the CCP. The victory of the U.S. in Operation Desert Storm prompted Deng
Xiaoping to reconsider the direction of China’s development.
When Iraq invaded Kuwait on Aug. 2, 1990, the entire territory of Kuwait was occupied within but a day.
Iraq’s invasion triggered acute reactions in the international community. Western countries, led by the
U.S., carried out a military action, via a United Nations resolution, to counter Iraq’s invasion. Even
though Iraq’s dictator Saddam Hussein was a good friend of the Chinese Communist Party and Iraq and
China had a close relationship, China was isolated from the international community at the time and
didn’t want to offend western countries by supporting Saddam Hussein.
Jiang Zemin had become General Secretary because of his participation in the 1989 Tiananmen Square
Massacre against the students. His nicknames “Kericon” and “braggart Jiang” bespoke of his lack of
competence on matters beyond sweet-talking, showing-off, and reporting on others behind their backs.
The Gulf War was a real test to examine what difficulties Jiang could resolve.
Facing a challenge as major as this, Jiang panicked and knew not what to do. He began to sense then and
there that holding the position of General Secretary wasn’t always enjoyable. At that time Western
countries had imposed economic sanctions over the Tiananmen Square Massacre, and China had little
international support. To escape from the diplomatic quandary, Deng Xiaoping set forth the basic
principles of China’s position on the war, which were, in effect, “To shut up and stay hands-off.” Thanks
to Deng’s order, Jiang didn’t need to make a decision. China subsequently abstained from the UN vote on
the Gulf War.
1. Operation Desert Storm
On Jan. 17, 1991, UN troops led by U.S. military forces launched “Operation Desert Storm” against Iraq.
Within weeks, Saddam Hussein’s troops suffered heavy casualties and completely lost the power to fight
back. Iraq was forced to accept all 12 of the resolutions that the United Nations had passed since the Iraqi
invasion of Kuwait. The multi-national UN forces called for a cease-fire at midnight on Feb. 28, marking
the end of the 42-day Gulf War.
During the war, China’s newspapers, which were, and are, tightly controlled by the Chinese Communist
Party, covered extensively strategic analyses stating that Saddam had a good chance for the reason that he
was “on the side of the people,” and that the guerilla warfare would be prolonged. Some even predicted
that the U.S. troops would be trapped in Iraq, similar to what happened during the Vietnam War. To
China’s surprise, the multi-national forces led by the U.S. coordinated their satellite, aerial, and naval
technologies to enable a three-pronged, joint assault. The advanced weaponry and precise coordination
amazed the world.
U.S. intelligence units deployed aerospace communication satellites, civilian-use satellites, and remote
sensing satellites for spectral analysis to monitor and decode Iraq’s military information and to take
infrared photos from high altitudes. The collected data were then processed in supercomputers to fully
reveal Iraq’s military capacity. The United States also began sending powerful electronic interference
waves six hours before they launched the attack so as to paralyze Iraq’s command system. What showed
up on Iraq’s radar screens were flakes and spots. U.S. stealth fighters filled the sky with chaff to create
illusive warplane traces on Iraq’s radar screens, leading Saddam’s SAM-6 surface-to-air missiles to attack
“phantoms.” Iraqi military forces were quickly rendered deaf and blind.
The victories of U.S. forces with minimum casualties taught Deng Xiaoping a lot and shocked the highest
echelon of the CCP. Public outcry also followed, calling for China to arm its military with high-tech
weapons. Jiang Zemin, who had no military experience, was at a loss and didn’t know how to respond.
Jiang was terrified, in fact. His knowledge of the military strengths of the United States and China was
out of touch with the times; his knowledge was more that of the Korean and Vietnam wars.
He recalled Richard Nixon’s book, 1999: Victory Without War (published in 1988). Jiang thought that
Communist China had fallen far behind the United States in terms of both morale and military strength.
With the drastic regime changes in Eastern Europe, the Cold War was approaching an end. The wave of
democracy had been moving eastward and would soon reach China, with only the Soviet Union in
between. In the face of heavy pressure to democratize, the red empire led by Gorbachev looked prone to
collapse at any moment. If the United States continued its Cold War strategies or carried out military
attacks, with its much-admired political and economic systems and advanced weaponry, China’s oneparty autocracy would be toppled.
Jiang felt helpless when dwelling upon the world’s state of affairs. He had a message sent to his son Jiang
Mianheng, who was studying in the United States, that there was no need to rush his studies in order to
graduate. He told his son to find a job and stay in the U.S. for several more years. That was in part
because Jiang’s position in China’s central government was not fully cemented at that time, and partly
because he had no confidence in the future of the Chinese Communist Party.
2. Fawning on the Soviet Union
From the time of the Tiananmen Square Massacre of 1989 on, the United States, which led the world in
system engineering and integration, imposed an arms embargo on China; China had little experience in
system engineering and integration. However, it was not hard for China to recruit experts in the field. For
example, Russia’s languid economy allowed China opportunities to lure Russian professionals by means
of hard currency. Approximately 1,500 Russian scientists and technicians started working as consultants
for China’s military in the 1990s.
Under the watchful eye of Deng Xiaoping and Yang Shangkun, Jiang Zemin, despite being a layman in
military affairs, had to demonstrate competency as the Chairman of the Central Military Commission. He
announced plans to purchase high performance, state-of-the-art weaponry systems from Russia. Although
China spent huge sums of money to acquire them, all of her acquisitions proved to be obsolete weapons
discharged by the former Soviet Union, or weapons that performed poorly and that Russia was clearing
out. The warplanes received from Russia failed frequently. After the CCP started its purchase of Sovietbuilt warplanes (including Su-27s and Su-30s), in the years between 1997 and 2001 no less than five
accidents were reported.
Russia’s aircraft carrier Kiev was built in 1975 and retired from active duty in 1994. Jiang Zemin bought
it and welcomed it into Tianjin Harbor in September 2000 as an invaluable treasure. Sources said China
spent two years negotiating the purchase and borrowed 70 million yuan (US$8.4 million) to finance the
retired carrier. The experts thought that they could obtain technical information by examining the Kiev.
However, they realized that Russia had stripped it of everything worth learning from. There was an outcry
in the military over their being fooled, and they filed complaints to Deng and Yang. Jiang Zemin, who
was in charge of the clumsy deal, grew even more nervous than Deng and Yang. The chairmanship of the
Central Military Commission was a tough job for Jiang. Jiang himself once described it as “treading on
thin ice.”
The Soviet Union’s economy was sluggish at the time. It was using military force to suppress people in
its various states, and it faced serious problems domestically and internationally. To upgrade its military
equipment and show support for the Soviet communist regime, China in October 1990 decided to pursue
military cooperation with the Soviet Union and purchase a batch of new warplanes from the Soviet
Union. On Jan. 25, 1991, the spokesman for the Chinese Ministry of Foreign Affairs told reporters that
Jiang would make a state visit to the Soviet Union in May of the same year. Jiang became the highest
Chinese government official to visit the Soviet Union since Mao Zedong attended the celebrations for the
40th anniversary of the “October Revolution” in Moscow in 1957.
When Jiang was in the Soviet Union in 1991, Yeltsin, an important political figure for the reformists,
requested to meet Jiang but was turned down. Instead, Jiang met with the Soviet Union’s Vice President,
Gennady Yanayev, who was against the program of reforms, and told Yanayev that he hoped the Soviet
Union would go back in the direction of socialism. This event clearly reflected Jiang’s Leftist stance
against reform. Three months later, Yanayev played a key role in the attempted political coup that put
Gorbachev under house arrest. The coup, intended to reverse the reform and restore Moscow’s centralized
control of the republics, failed after three days.
To strengthen relations with the Soviet Union and solidify his political power, Jiang tried to please the
Soviet Union (and later Russia) at all costs. He was totally negligent when it came to the boundary
dispute between China and Russia, and agreed to the Russian proposal to survey the border. By way of
the KGB’s meticulous arrangements, Jiang’s ex-lover showed up. Jiang knew, seeing this, that the KGB
had information on all of his activities in the past, and so he obediently yielded to Russia’s terms. As a
result, disputed territory 40 times the size of Taiwan was secretly ceded to Russia.
3. Underestimating Deng Xiaoping
Deng Xiaoping had a tremendous sense of urgency when it came to expanding economic reform,
invigorating the market, and using the economy to contend with the United States. The few Special
Economic Zones that had been established in China could not alone achieve these goals. China had to
reform its economy and open up fully. Jiang Zemin—who held powerful political positions—had a
different view, however. Having put forth so much effort to climb the political ladder, Jiang surely would
not back down. A more open society and economy would simply make people harder to control, he
thought. Jiang had an inflated sense of self importance, as he held the highest position in the government,
and thus greatly underestimated Deng’s political strength. After Jiang assumed power he made an
infamous remark that was intended to undermine Deng. Jiang said, “We should make private
entrepreneurs and self-employed people go bankrupt.” (Ironically, when Jiang’s family became one of the
most wealthy and corrupt in China, Jiang’s policy changed to, “Let capitalists join the Party.”)
Deng began to regret having listened to Chen Yun and Li Xiannian in hastily choosing Jiang to be
General Secretary. In the spring of 1990, Deng went to Shanghai to meet with its mayor, Zhu Rongji, and
sized him up. He felt Zhu was a man of extraordinary talent among the CCP’s high-ranking officials and
somebody who understood economic affairs. He had the courage and spirit to do solid work, in stark
contrast to Jiang, who was largely an empty shell. Jiang’s spies in Shanghai told Jiang about Deng’s
activities. Jiang was seized with jealousy.
Jiang’s jealousy actually came out of his lack of integrity and competence, and fear that other capable
people would threaten his power. Although it appeared as though Jiang had great power, many inside and
outside the CCP didn’t think highly of him and considered him an opportunist. They regarded Jiang’s
reign as merely a transitional period. Jiang knew very well that his position in the Party was not
cemented. In terms of experience, talent, and personal connections, he was far behind. Jiang’s paranoia
over power turned into intense jealousy. He considered everyone with more talent, experience, and
personal connections than him a potential threat.
In February 1991, Deng Xiaoping left Beijing for Shanghai to celebrate the Chinese New Year. On the
eve of his departure, Deng said unambiguously, “Nobody listens to me in Beijing anymore. I have to go
to Shanghai.” On the trip, Deng told Zhu Rongji that he wanted to appoint Zhu to work in the State
Council. Deng asked Yang Shangkun to call in the Shanghai Municipal CCP Committee and Shanghai
City government leaders to convey the “decision by the CCP Central Committee.”
Before the Chinese New Year in 1991, Deng Xiaoping made a speech in Shanghai, insisting on reforms
and a market economy. Drawing from the key points of Deng Xiaoping’s speech, Zhou Ruijin, principal
of the army newspaper Liberation Daily, wrote four articles, including “Taking the Lead in Reform and
Opening-up,” “Reform Takes Creative Thinking,” “Strengthen the Concept of Expanding Reforms” and
“Reforms Need a Large Number of Cadres with Ability and Integrity.” Zhou used the penname of
Huangpu Ping. These articles were published in Liberation Daily on Chinese New Year’s Day in 1991.
The boss behind the scenes was none other than Deng Xiaoping.
On all these matters, Deng neither notified nor purposely kept things secret from Jiang. Deng outright and
completely excluded Jiang in his considerations.
These articles that promoted economic reforms championed by Deng and directly supervised by Zhu
Rongji aroused Jiang’s jealousy and resistance. He not only kept silent about the new push for reforms,
but also instigated the Leftists in the CCP in Beijing to attack and criticize the articles. He also dispatched
staff to monitor Deng’s speeches and activities in Shanghai. Jiang himself was busy lobbying senior CCP
members in Beijing who could constrain Deng.
On April 12, 1991, at the 4th Session of the 7th National People’s Congress, Deng Xiaoping prevailed
and he formally appointed Zhu Rongji, then Mayor of Shanghai, as Vice-Premier of the State Council. In
order to show his support for Zhu, Deng took Zhu with him to inspect the Capital Iron and Steel
Corporation. Deng praised Zhu in earnest in the presence of both Zhu and others, saying, “There are not
many high-level cadres who really understand economics in our Party. Comrades like Zhu Rongji, who
know economics well, should be promoted to higher positions.” Deng’s praise for Zhu made Jiang Zemin,
who is narrow and unforgiving, grow panicked and even more jealous. After that, Jiang frequently asked
his trusted subordinates to collect information and materials so as to suppress, exclude, and attack Zhu, no
matter whether Zhu had anything to do with the matter. Jiang and his narrowness did Zhu much injustice.
Deng learned of Jiang’s veiled opposition to him and became quite dissatisfied with Jiang. Qiao Shi, a
Politburo Standing Committee member, and Tian Jiyun, one of the Vice-Premiers of the State Council,
made many speeches in support of Deng’s reforms. Deng said, “It has been a long time since I heard
excellent speeches like these.” Deng’s favorable remarks allowed the seeds of hatred of Qiao Shi and
Tian Jiyun to be sown in Jiang. Driven by acute dissatisfaction with and disappointment over
conservatives like Jiang, Deng talked with Yang Shangkun, Wan Li, and Qiao Shi about reinstating Zhao
Ziyang, reorganizing the CCP’s central leadership at the CCP’s 14th National Congress in 2002, and
dismissing Jiang Zemin. The news shocked Jiang.
4. Collapse of the Soviet Union Causes Panic
In June 1991, Deng Xiaoping reinstated the political power of Hu Qili, Yan Mingfu, and Rui Xingwen—
all former subordinates of Zhao Ziyang. Hu was appointed Deputy Minister for the Ministry of the
Mechanical and Electronics Industry and a member of the CCP Committee of the same ministry. Rui
became Deputy Director of the State Development Planning Commission, and Yan became Deputy
Minister of Civil Affairs. Through these arrangements, Deng was paving the way to reinstate Zhao.
A few months later, at the end of 1991, the Soviet Union despite all appearances of being strong collapsed
in a matter of days. This brought about dramatic changes in the state of the world. The disintegration of
the Soviet Union dealt a strong blow to the CCP and shook its confidence. The CCP was in extreme
panic, knowing that even a party as strong as the Soviet Communist Party could one day collapse in turn.
The CCP used to say, “The Soviet Union’s today is our tomorrow.” With the Soviet Union disintegrating,
the CCP began wondering about its own future.
The CCP has often described “U.S. imperialism” and the regime’s political opponents as “paper tigers.”
[1] Yet looking back at the disintegration of the Soviet Union and the drastic changes in Eastern Europe,
it was not hard for the CCP to see that the communist parties there were true paper tigers. The supporters
of the dictatorship scattered once the regime collapsed. Communism in Eastern Europe was coming to an
end. Telltale events included the tearing-down of the Berlin Wall, the success of the Polish Solidarity
Movement, the Velvet Revolution in Czechoslovakia, the completion of transition to democracy in
Hungary, the overthrow and execution of the Romanian dictator Ceausescu, and the first national election
in Bulgaria. Overthrowing the Communist dictatorship took 10 years in Poland, 10 months in Hungary,
10 weeks in Germany, 10 days in Czechoslovakia and 10 hours in Romania.
The successive collapse of the communist powers made Jiang Zemin extremely anxious and uneasy.
On July 1, 1991, Jiang abandoned Deng’s policy of focusing on economic development in his speech
commemorating the 70th anniversary of the CCP. He vigorously promoted “focusing on efforts against
peaceful revolution” so as to alert people to the dangers of losing political control [due to peaceful
reform]. He emphasized “clearly distinguishing between two kinds of perspectives on reform,” namely,
one “based on the Four Fundamental Principles” [2] and the other “based on capitalism promoted by
bourgeois liberalization.” Jiang also declared that in terms of theory, “A struggle exists between the
different approaches to the reform and opening-up policy.” The remarks were meant as veiled criticism of
Huangpu Ping in Shanghai as well as, in fact, Zhu Rongji and his supporter Deng Xiaoping. Jiang’s
speech, which was anti-reform, received warm applause from the Leftist camp. The next day, Zhu Rongji,
now under tremendous pressure, was dispatched to inspect the rainstorm disaster in Hubei Province while
Jiang, back in Beijing, instigated the Leftists there to commence a round of sweeping criticism aimed at
Zhu.
Little did Jiang realize it was the CCP’s tight political control and underdeveloped economic policies that
were causing problems with reform. Jiang instead attributed the problem to the policy of reform and
opening-up. He was attempting to forward an obsolete strategy.
In Robert Kuhn’s biography of Jiang, Jiang’s contributions to China’s reform are wantonly exaggerated.
It claims, one could say, that Jiang’s contributions recreated China. His praise is actually baseless in that
Jiang has been extremely conservative and was against the reforms from the outset. However, many not
privileged to the inside story, especially non-Chinese, have been fooled by Jiang’s gift of gab and knack
for quickly changing positions according to the situation.
Although Jiang was later, due to circumstances beyond his control, forced to support the reforms, he
has—to this day—consistently kept tight control over information and thought. Jiang is extremely hostile
to freedom of thought, and has labeled political dissidents as “unpatriotic.” As Kuhn wrote, “Regarding
dissident Chinese students working with foreign media, he had only contempt, ‘I wonder,’ he said,
‘whether the blood of the Chinese nation still flowes in their veins?'” [3] How absurd. If those persons,
such as dissidents, who are concerned about the fate of the nation are not patriots, then who is? Could
someone like Jiang—who gave away land gratuitously to Russia and worked with foreign aggressors—
instead be considered a patriot?
5. Flattering Li Peng and the Military
In the earlier years, Jiang Zemin’s position inside the CCP was not very secure. Not only did he have to
confront pressure from senior Rightist and Leftist leaders in the Party, he also had to face the general
public’s dissatisfaction over the Tiananmen Square Massacre. Meanwhile, China’s foreign relations were
on the rocks. Many countries called back their ambassadors. Trade and arms embargoes hit China’s
economy hard.
Premier Li Peng was originally Jiang’s immediate superior, but when Jiang was made General Secretary
Li became Jiang’s subordinate. It was somewhat awkward for both. At Politburo meetings Jiang always
sat next to Li and they hosted the meetings together. Jiang often made decisions based on Li’s facial
expressions. So outsiders called it the “Jiang-Li system.” In order to solidify his position inside the Party,
Jiang thought he needed to get on Li’s good side. Since Li used to serve as Minister of Water Resources,
on Jiang’s first national tour he visited the Three Gorges Project, something Li had enthusiastically
promoted. Moreover, Jiang actively lobbied for the project and forced the National People’s Congress to
approve its preliminary plans.
Jiang’s efforts to butter up Li were downright blatant. The CCP and Jiang often talk about science, but
this time they left the most authoritative experts by the wayside. Ignoring potential problems that the
Three Gorges Project might cause with respect to navigation, generation of electricity, relocation of
residents, the ecosystem, the environment, and war preparedness, Jiang left decision-making surrounding
this massive engineering project to those in the People’s Congress who would simply rubber stamp it.
This, despite the fact that these were people—being things like actors and actresses, “model workers,”
and token minority representatives—ignorant of the science and planning entailed. Those outside of
political circles saw the move as ridiculous. The sole purpose of what Jiang did was to please Li.
Despite his lack of integrity, lack of competence, and lack of military experience, Jiang was appointed
Chairman of the Central Military Commission in November 1989. How would senior military officials be
willing to take orders from a man who had never so much as touched a gun? At the time, Jiang didn’t dare
to promote generals to strengthen their allegiance to him, as Deng Xiaoping had done. He did not have a
group of supporters in the army, either (unlike Deng). Thus, to please the military Jiang allocated a great
amount of funds to purchase obsolete weaponry from the Soviet Union. And recalling what he had
learned from his father about propaganda, he ordered that movies glorifying the People’s Liberation
Army be made. Jiang figured that the movies would gain him the military’s favor while simultaneously
brainwashing people who hated the PLA for its role in the Tiananmen Square Massacre. Jiang himself
wrote the calligraphy for the titles of the films, one of which included a costly three-part war film,
Decisive Battles.
During the shooting of the film Jiang discovered something. A director by the name of Li produced a
movie called Founding Ceremony. Instead of following the typical CCP approach of depicting Chiang
Kai-Shek as a villain, the director portrayed Chiang as a real person. On these grounds the movie
examiners censored the film. They asked the director to depict Chiang Kai-Shek as a stupid and violent
person. The director refused.
Politburo member Li Ruihuan, who is an open-minded person, heard about this and invited Jiang to watch
the movie with him. Jiang was very curious about certain shots in the movie because they looked as
though they had been taken from actual documentaries that would have been hard to obtain. Jiang asked
the director where the shots came from. The director said the shots were not acquired from anywhere, but
were instead filmed recently. They looked like a historical documentary because they underwent a special
treatment. Jiang was intrigued. After the movie, he commented, “The real and the fake were fused so well
that even I was confused.”
Of course, the application of such a technique in film production is not uncommon. Jiang was pleased,
however, that he had learned about an important technique that could be used in deceptive propaganda.
6. Deng Xiaoping Fights Back
“Huangpu Ping” (a pen name) from Shanghai, which was actually just Deng Xiaoping at work behind the
scenes, published an article, titled “Discussions on the Morale of Cadres,” in the Liberation Daily on Aug.
31, 1991. The author stated that lack of confidence in the economic reforms was the most terrible thing
and that CCP cadres must liberate their thoughts. Then on Sept. 1, the China National Radio broadcast an
editorial, titled “Everything Should Be for Reform and Opening-Up.” It was drafted by Li Deming,
Deputy Chief Editor of the People’s Daily, and by a senior editor associated with the Theoretical
Department of the newspaper. Its purpose was to oppose Deng Xiaoping. After being looked over by Li
Ruihuan, then a member of the Standing Committee of the Politburo and in charge of ideological affairs,
the article was amended by Gao Di, director of the People’s Daily. Gao added a paragraph stressing the
distinction between socialist and capitalist economic reforms, and further criticized “Huangpu Ping.” At
Deng Xiaoping’s instruction, Li Ruihuan had the paragraph removed, however, before the editorial was
published the next day. About the incident, Deng remarked resentfully, “The People’s Daily is trying to
criticize Deng Xiaoping completely.” From that time on Deng had deep distrust towards Jiang Zemin. [4]
By the end of 1991 Deng had grown outraged by Jiang’s behavior. Not only had he completely lost
confidence in the so-called “core of the Third Generation leadership—Jiang Zemin—he could no longer
tolerate Jiang. Although Deng Xiaoping didn’t have an official military title, he controlled the military,
despite Jiang’s being its Chairman. His closest old friend Yang Shangkun and his entrusted subordinate
Yang Baibing had charge of it. Yang Shangkun and Deng Xiaoping met in 1932 and had been friends for
60 years. Yang Baibing’s military rank as General was personally given to him by Deng in September
1988. Yang Baibing had been loyally executing Deng Xiaoping’s political plans with the military.
Another Deputy Chairman of the Central Military Commission alongside Yang Shangkun was Liu
Huaqing. He was Deng’s long-time subordinate and had similarly been loyal to Deng.
Deng Xiaoping realized the “core of the Third Generation leadership”—Jiang Zemin, somebody who was
mediocre, weak, incompetent, jealous, conservative, and stubborn—was trying to block the economic
reform and opening-up. Deng thus made up his mind to deal a final blow using his military power. He
planned to replace, at the 14th CCP Congress, those such as Jiang Zemin who were against the reforms
with those who were firmly for reform. Deng planned to replace Jiang with Qiao Shi as General Secretary
of the CCP. He also planned to have Qiao appointed President and Chairman of the Central Military
Commission at the 1st Session of the 8th National People’s Congress. Deng also planned to replace Li
Peng with either Li Ruihuan or Zhu Rongji as Premier. Wan Li would continue to chair the National
People’s Congress. He also planned to have Yang Shangkun retire from the national chairman post and
completely dissolve the CCP’s Central Advisory Committee, which was more or less controlled by Chen
Yun.
Deng consulted with Yang Shangkun and Wan Li about his plans. In the meantime Deng praised Qiao Shi
for the public speeches he had given in various provinces, in effect expressing support of Qiao. Jiang
Zemin grew jealous of Qiao and regarded him as his main adversary. Thus it was that upon Deng’s
passing Jiang forced Qiao Shi to retire under the pretext of a designated age limit.
Deng had also planned to reinstate Zhao Zhiyang, who was under house arrest, and make him Chairman
of the National Political Consultative Conference. Deng never doubted Zhao’s support of reform. The
only obstacle was that Deng and Zhao had diverging opinions on how to handle the Tiananmen Square
Massacre. Zhao’s persistent refusal to acknowledge his own mistakes made during the time period
leading up to the massacre irked Deng. Deng sent a messenger to Zhao asking him to admit to his
mistakes, the intention being to prevent Zhao from overturning the verdict against him in the future. The
messenger returned and told Deng that Zhao had insisted he hadn’t made any mistakes and wouldn’t write
any form of self-criticism. Zhao had said to the messenger, “Why do I choose not to criticize myself after
stepping down, you ask? Well, because I choose not to… because I think I made no ‘mistakes’ in the
matter. Why should I criticize myself? As soon as I start criticizing myself, there will be no way to make
that fact clear.” Deng had mixed feelings about Zhao’s remarks, and he fell silent for a long while.
____________________
Notes:
[1] A Chinese expression for something that appears threatening in form, but is not in substance.
[2] The Four Fundamental Principles were established by Deng in 1979 as overarching principles of the CCP that were not subject
to debate. They are: (1) the principle of upholding the socialist path, (2) the principle of upholding the people’s democratic
dictatorship, (3) the principle of upholding the leadership of the CCP, and (4) the principle of upholding Marxist -Leninist-Mao
Zedong thought.
[3] Robert Lawrence Kuhn, The Man Who Changed China: The Life and Legacy of Jiang Zemin (New York: Crown, 2004), 190.
[4] The People’s Daily is implicitly controlled by the CCP’s paramount leader, who was Jiang Zemin at the time.
Deng Xiaoping lost his major advocates for the reform and opening-up policy upon the removal of Hu
Yaobang and Zhao Ziyang. Jiang Zemin, at the core of the “Third Generation Leadership,” not only
didn’t promote a program of reform and opening-up, but went so far as to criticize the theory. Deng came
to believe that he had no choice but to lobby for the policy himself. Thus it was that an aged and frail
Deng, with the help of his daughter, made a special tour of southern China in 1992 to promote a by-then
halted program of reform and opening-up.
On Jan. 17, 1992, a special train departed from Beijing, speeding southward. On the train was Deng
Xiaoping, then 88 years old, accompanied by his wife, daughter, and an old friend—China’s president,
Yang Shangkun. From Jan. 18 to Feb. 21, Deng journeyed through Wuchang, Shenzhen, Zhuhai, and
Shanghai, making for what later became known as “Deng Xiaoping’s Southern Tour.”
The direct cause of Deng’s Southern Tour was Jiang Zemin’s promotion of extreme Leftist (conservative,
hard-line) policies that opposed reforms. And it was Jiang who, even after Deng’s tour, prevented
reporting on speeches made by Deng during the tour. Of all things, though, in the aftermath of Deng’s
tour Jiang shamelessly took credit for the reforms that unfolded. The fact is, that year the persons who
helped Deng the most in promoting reforms and opening-up were brothers Yang Shangkun and Yang
Baibing, both of whom held power in the military. After the tour, the figure who had the most important
role in shaping China’s economics was not Jiang but Zhu Rongji. With the 14th Plenary Session of the
CCP’s National Congress the Yang brothers lost their influence in the military and soon grew to become
opponents of Jiang. Jiang apparently sensed this: not only did Jiang team up with Zeng Qinghong to kill
Yang Shangkun in 1998, but he also, again with Zeng’s help, perpetually wanted Yang Baibing dead.
Jiang’s dislike of the Yang brothers went beyond personal grudges to include jealousy over the brothers’
accomplishments. Jiang saw the Yang brothers as an obstacle to taking credit for Deng’s successful
program of reform.
1. Deng Xiaoping’s Ultimatum
On Jan. 18, 1992, Deng Xiaoping arrived in Wuchang to meet with Guan Guangfu, Secretary of the CCP
Hubei Provincial Committee, and Guo Shuyan, Governor of Hubei Province, marking the start of his
Southern Tour. During the meeting Deng directly named Jiang Zemin and asked Guan and Guo to pass a
message to the CCP’s Central Committee: “Whoever opposes the policies of the CCP’s 13th National
Congress will have to step down.” Jiang found the message most vexing, though he chose not to voice his
resentment. For quite some time Jiang didn’t express support of any type for Deng’s speeches on the
Southern Tour.
On the 19th Deng’s train arrived in the Shenzhen Special Economic Zone. Deng, though usually a man of
few words, there made a lengthy speech in which he clearly issued an ultimatum to Jiang: “Reform and
opening-up is the trend of the times, which has gained the support of the entire Party and people
throughout the nation. Anyone who isn’t part of the reforms will have to step down.” Along with this
Deng had Yang Shangkun and Wan Li arrange a list of persons identified as “leadership personnel” for
the 14th National Congress of CCP (to be held at the end of 1992); the list included candidates for the
Party’s next General Secretary. During the tour Deng was accompanied by Yang Shangkun, who was a
close friend and both Chairman of China and the first Vice-Chairman of the Central Military
Commission. On the tour Deng met individually with people such as Qiao Shi, Liu Huaqing, Ye
Xuanping, Zhu Rongji, and Yang Baibing. Deng’s approach bespoke of two things. For one, it suggested
that Deng was working hard to garner support for his program of reform and opening-up. Secondly,
however, it told of Deng’s intention to promote Qiao Shi and remove Jiang Zemin.
On the trip Deng repeatedly mentioned Zhao Ziyang’s “remarkable achievements in accelerating
development” during his five years of managing the economy. After the Southern Tour Deng didn’t give
up, again sending people to contact Zhao Ziyang. But Zhao still refused to admit any “wrong” on this part
in handling the student democracy movement. Both before and after his trip Deng dispatched many
people to speak with Zhao, but Zhao stuck to his position and insisted he was not wrong. Zhao honored
his conscience, as opposed to the Party line—something rare in the Communist Party.
In the two years after his becoming General Secretary of the CCP, Jiang Zemin carried out extreme
Leftist policies and labored to play up those strategies meant to counter the West’s alleged attempt to
“peacefully transform” the communist regime. Deng Xiaoping’s words, “Anyone who isn’t part of the
reforms will have to step down,” hit a sensitive nerve in Jiang. On the morning of Feb. 20, Jiang held an
expanded meeting of the Politburo in which he transmitted Deng’s speech. When a series of Deng’s
speeches were transmitted to the entire Party as CCP Central Committee documents, Jiang removed many
passages, using the excuse that they would cause “ideological instability among cadres within the party.”
Most notable was his cutting of passages such as, “Reform and opening-up is the trend of the times,
which has gained the support of the entire Party and people throughout the nation. Anyone who isn’t part
of the reforms will have to step down.” Jiang went so far as to prohibit news media from reporting details
of Deng’s Southern Tour, the outcome of which was most people in China knowing nothing of the trip.
One day in late February 1992, Li Ruihuan, a member of the Politburo’s Standing Committee and the
man in charge of ideology among Party members, asked Gao Di, head of the People’s Daily, “Why hasn’t
the People’s Daily been reporting on Deng’s Southern Tour speeches? Why do they (the paper’s
reporters) take no action?” Confident and bold, Gao Di answered with a question, “Comrade Xiaoping is
now only an ordinary Party member. I wonder from what perspective can we portray him in a news
report?” It was knowing that he had Jiang Zemin to count on that Gao dared contradict Li. But what Gao
didn’t realize was that Jiang’s position as General Secretary was in fact bestowed upon him by Deng
Xiaoping. Deng, who had the backing of the military, could rescind the appointment at any time.
2. Scared Witless
From March 20 to April 3, 1992, Beijing held the 5th Session of the 7th National People’s Congress
(NPC). The meeting focused on whether to implement reforms. On the matter of Jiang’s cutting parts of
Deng’s speeches from the Southern Tour, the military—the heavyweight in political struggles—spoke
out. At the Congress, Yang Baibing—who was Secretary of the CCP Central Committee’s Secretariat,
Secretary General of the Military Commission, and Director of the military’s General Political
Department—was the first to utter support of Deng. Yang called out, “Protect the reforms and openingup.” Along with this Yang directly asked the People’s Liberation Army Daily to publish an editorial,
titled “Protect the reforms and opening-up.” The piece was significant in that it publicly articulated the
reform-camp position, to “firmly respond to Comrade Xiaoping’s call and protect the reforms and
opening-up” and took a public stand in support of Deng. He Qizong, Deputy Chief of the General Staff of
the People’s Liberation Army (PLA), was the first in the General Staff Department to respond. Yang’s
call to “Protect the reforms and opening-up” directly targeted Jiang Zemin. From that time on Jiang held
deep resentment toward Yang and He. Later Jiang would strip them of power.
On March 26—a date that fell during the NPC meeting—a newspaper, Shenzhen Special Economic Zone
Daily, ran a lengthy headline article, titled “An Eastern Wind Brings Spring—Reports on Comrade Deng
Xiaoping in Shenzhen City.” This was the first publication to disclose Deng’s Southern Tour and his
important speeches. In the afternoon of that very same day, the Yangcheng Evening News carried a
reprint of almost the entire headline article of the Shenzhen Special Economic Zone Daily, something
most unlikely. Then on March 28, Shanghai’s Wenhui Daily and the China Business Times both ran the
full text of the article. Two days later, on March 30, the Xinhua News Agency—a state-run agency under
Jiang’s control—also ran the article in full. That Xinhua ran the piece some four days after it first
appeared in the Shenzhen Special Zone Daily reflected Jiang’s reluctance.
Yang Baibing took a stance on behalf of the military, publicly supporting Deng’s speeches on the
Southern Tour, and in turn the military gave Deng its strongest backing. The powerful support of the PLA
scared those who opposed reform. The tide suddenly had turned. A shocked and flustered Jiang felt that
the military had it in for him. Jiang, still reeling, pulled a rather two-faced political trick when he met
with the Japanese on April 1: he stated that he agreed with Deng’s speeches. Deng took Jiang’s remark to
be empty talk, believing little sincerity was behind the words.
By then it was only months away from the 14th National Congress of the CCP. Yang Baibing played the
military card, the impact of which was sizeable upon the upper levels of the CCP. The political situation
in Beijing was dangerous and unpredictable. After Deng’s Southern Tour, Jiang Zemin’s lack of vision
and fence-sitting pushed Deng to the limits of his patience. On May 22, despite the heat in Beijing at the
time, Deng visited the Shougang Group—one of the largest steel companies in China. In front of the
company’s workers and cadres he complained, “About my words, some people are careless, others silent.
They actually oppose them and disagree. Only a small number of people really take action.” Deng then
asked Beijing leaders Li Ximing and Chen Xitong, who had accompanied him to the site, to “give this
message to the Central Committee.” By “Central Committee” Deng of course meant Jiang.
During this time period Qiao Shi—who was a member of the Standing Committee of the Politburo,
Secretary of the Political and Legislative Affairs Committee, and Director of the Central Party School—
pointed out many times that reactions to Deng’s speeches should not be simply matters of “boast and
empty talk.” It was Qiao’s way of criticizing Jiang indirectly. Vice Premier Tian Jiyun expressed in
certain terms his support of Deng’s reforms.
At Qiao Shi’s request Tian Jiyun made a speech at the Party School of the CCP Central Committee in
May 1992 criticizing Jiang Zemin, though not by name. He said:
“When eliminating the ‘influences,’ we must be alert for those who are two-timers. These people will turn
their palms up for clouds and down for rain. [1] They speak in human terms to humans and in monstrous
terms to monsters. When given the opportunity, they will spring forth to oppose the reforms and openingup. Should these people gain supreme power they will spell disaster for the nation and the people.” [2]
Jiang clenched his teeth with hatred upon hearing the speech. He had been planning to make another
show of support for the reforms, knowing that things weren’t going well, but now his bluff had been
called by Tian.
Li Xiannian was on one occasion displeased with Tian’s support for the program of reform and openingup. At a Politburo meeting on Oct. 27, 1989—not long after the Tiananmen Square Massacre—Jiang
discredited all of Zhao Ziyang’s contributions to reform. On the spot Tian proceeded to point out,
however, that the new generation of leaders could not deny the previous generation’s accomplishments;
everybody was to have a share of the results as well as the problems. Li was irate, and yelled out, upon
hearing Tian remarks, “Once again Zhao Ziyang’s lackey springs forth!”
But what rendered Jiang truly helpless was when Tian spoke openly in criticism of Jiang’s two-faced
behavior while Jiang’s big supporter, Li Xiannian, was hospitalized. Jiang could do nothing about it. At
the end of May, a group of special-care medical experts reported that Li was in critical condition. Jiang
began to sense that his own position was in jeopardy and that the situation was very disadvantageous for
him. With no alternative, Jiang could only turn his sails to the wind, softening his opposition to the socalled “bourgeoisie reforms.”
On June 9, 1992, the Party School of the CCP Central Committee was guarded so heavily as if to be
facing a deadly enemy. Jiang, surrounded by Qiao Shi and a retinue of soldiers and police, entered the
institution’s assembly hall. Faculty and students laughed at Jiang and the scene, remarking, “Qiao Shi
must have forced Jiang to come here.” Jiang then proceeded, under pressure from Qiao, to deliver a talk
in support of Deng’s Southern Tour speeches. Jiang felt this amounted to a loss of face, having been
forced to come. His resentment of Qiao grew only deeper. One observer at the assembly hall commented,
“You can see that Jiang didn’t mean what he said.” On the surface, at least, Jiang had made a show of
obeisance.
Between the spring and summer of 1992, General Secretary Jiang’s standing sank dramatically. Some
even speculated that Jiang would have to cede his post. On June 21, Li Xiannian died of illness in Beijing.
The situation forced Jiang to change his attitude. Jiang quickly began to feign support for Deng’s reforms,
though the move came much later than others’ support. So greatly did Jiang fear the prospect of losing his
position that he couldn’t sleep or eat very well. Most worrisome to Jiang was that he might be rebuked
within the Party for his current and past actions. Jiang thus made a secret visit to Deng and offered a
deep-cutting round of self-criticism. Jiang swore with his life, eyes tearing up, to follow Deng and carry
out the program of reform and opening-up straight through to the end.
Jiang was also feeling at that time tremendous pressure from the Yang brothers, Qiao Shi, Wan Li, and
Tian Jiyun. Jiang harbored a mixture of hatred and fear of the group. Ultimately Jiang would do an about
face, however, going from an anti-reform stance to one of support for the policy. Of critical importance to
Jiang was—and still is—how this chapter of his history was written; he has long been eager to present
himself as an open-minded person in favor of reform. One sentence in Kuhn’s biography of Jiang is
telling, for in it one detects Jiang’s wish to conceal and rewrite this part of his past. Kuhn writes, “Deep
down Jiang was an economic reformer, even if not with Deng’s missionary zeal.” [3] The “deep down”
and “even if not with” are meant to mask all that Jiang willfully did to resist Deng’s program of reforms
and outside efforts to “peacefully transform” China’s regime. As Jiang would have it he was, incredibly,
the victim of bullying conservatives. But were such the case, Deng could have simply visited Jiang’s
residence to discuss the strengthening of reforms. Why would Deng have had to travel with Yang
Shangkun—a powerful military figure—all the way to the southern tip of China?
3. Conspiring and Scheming
Between the months of June and July in 1992, Deng Xiaoping and Chen Yun held intense negotiations
over plans for high-ranking posts at the 14th National Congress of the CCP. The conflicts then unfolding
among top officials were only aggravated by the power struggle shaping up over the redistribution of
posts. Jiang’s shaky political status aggravated Zeng Qinghong—a trusted follower of Jiang who was
Deputy Director of the CCP Central Committee General Office. Zeng has always been an extremely
ambitious figure with a yearning for political power; he likes power and plays with power. Zeng came to
believe that using Jiang was a shortcut to the upper echelon of power. Jiang’s incompetence made him
prone to manipulation. If Zeng’s plans came to fruition, Jiang stood to become Zeng’s puppet in a matter
of a few short years. But were Jiang to now step down amidst the pressure, Zeng’s political career would
be shot.
Zeng has always had a knack for scheming and politicking. When Zeng hates someone he shows no signs
of it, only to later destroy the person. Zeng’s father, Zeng Shan, was at one time Minister of Internal
Affairs. His mother, Deng Liujin, used to be the Director of the Yan’An Nursery, where the top leaders
sent their children. Many of today’s top CCP officials were reared in the nursery and call Deng Liujin
“Mother Deng.” Zeng’s family background thus gave him exposure to power struggles among the elite,
and it was through that that he learned how to stay safe amidst such conflicts, how to defeat dissenters,
and how to gain and consolidate power in the complex arena of politics. Notable is that Zeng became
skilled in the use of false evidence and information. All were skills Zeng would later employ in political
struggles with the CCP’s top officials.
During the period when Jiang was badly frightened, Zeng analyzed the situation for Jiang. As he rendered
it: Deng Xiaoping might replace Jiang by making Qiao Shi General Secretary; the Yang brothers, Qiao
Shi, Wan Li, Tian Jiyun, and Li Ruihuan were all political enemies; the threat came mostly from the Yang
brothers, as they held military power and Deng trusted them more than others. But an attack on the Yang
brothers would prove for Jiang both difficult and dangerous, Zeng knew. Yet the rewards of victory stood
to be great: with their elimination Jiang could escape the deadly situation he had fallen into and regain
power. Zeng thought that although the Yang brothers’ political power was soaring at the time, they were
nonetheless mere military men, and as such knew nothing of political tactics. Their power came from
Deng’s total trust. The most important task then became to set Deng against the Yangs. Deng at the time
was afraid his reform policy might be scrapped. A deeper fear still was that after his death people would
redress the Tiananmen Massacre of 1989. Everyone knew that Yang Shangkun had a good relationship
with Zhao Ziyang. Yang was in fact initially reluctant to use military force to suppress the student
demonstrators. Thus on the issue of the massacre there was disagreement between Deng and Yang. Jiang
was angry at the Yang brothers, who looked down on him in the military system, but never dared to
broach the subject. After hearing Zeng’s analysis and advice, Jiang gained new hope and grew determined
to defeat the Yang brothers. By doing so, the idea went, Jiang could not only save his political power but
also take revenge. From that time forth Zeng and Jiang focused on how to take down the Yang brothers.
Notable among their approaches was the use of the CCP central office to search for adverse dossiers that
would implicate the Yangs.
When Deng Xiaoping, who had served in the Second Field Troop of the military, became the chairman of
the Military Commission, people from other factions were edged out. Those who had served in the Third
and Fourth Field Troops were most dissatisfied. The people who held military power, namely the Yang
brothers and Liu Qinghua, were followers of Deng. The Yang brothers had the greatest power and as such
were the targets of other dissatisfied factions in the military. In the early years of the reforms, Deng
declared that “the military must show tolerance” and that more resources should be used for economic
development. This caused the military some challenges for a period of time. It was in that period that
Yang Shangkun and his brother loyally implemented the policy that “the military must show tolerance.”
Deng also tried to persuade Zhang Aiping, Yang Dezhi, and Yu Qiuli to step down, wanting, ostensibly,
to “bring in younger cadres.” The three, each a retired Deputy Secretary General of the Military
Commission, later learned that the new person on the job was none other than Yang Shangkun—who was
three years older than Zhang Aiping, four years older than Yang Dezhi, and seven years older than Yu
Qiuli. This made the three unhappy. Li Xiannian, who previously served as the head of the Fifth Division
in the Third Field Troop, had long been supporting the movement against Yang by Zhang Aiping (head of
the Fourth Division of the Third Field Troop), Zhang Zhen (Chief of Staff of the Fourth Division), Ye Fei
(head of the First Division), and Hong Xuezhi (Chief of Staff of the Third division).
Zhang Aiping had been opposed to the Tiananmen Square Massacre and thus Jiang kept a distance from
Zhang for the first few years after coming to power. As Jiang Shangqing—Jiang’s supposed foster
father—had been Zhang’s direct subordinate, in the first few years after Jiang met Zhang, Jiang had
fawningly acted the part of a martyr’s foster child, being reverent and respectful to this man who had once
led his “foster father.” But that changed after Jiang became General Secretary of the CCP, for he needed
to take a firm stand in support of the firing upon students in Tiananmen Square; Jiang thus had to keep a
distance from Zhang for some time. Now Jiang wished to overturn Yang Shangkun’s power, however,
and so he once again began to get close to Zhang.
Although Zeng Qinghong realized Jiang had no military background, Zeng believed that they could
nonetheless make use of the troops’ dissatisfaction as a means to isolate the Yang brothers and further
alienate Deng Xiaoping from the Yangs. He thought this might be able to achieve the unthinkable.
In August 1992, Deng overworked himself with the redistribution of personnel for the 14th National
Congress of the CCP and in arguments with Chen Yun. He suffered a stroke and was sent to the hospital.
Yang Baibing and Yang Shangkun first received the news of Deng’s hospitalization and called a meeting
with 46 high ranking army officers at the end of August in Beijing.
The officers as a whole looked down on Jiang Zemin. This was an open secret. Yang Shangkun, whom
Deng had charged with watching over Jiang, laughed at Jiang when Jiang trembled upon touching a gun
and knew not how it felt to fire a bullet. At the meeting Yang Baibing disclosed that Deng was not well
and discussed whether Jiang would be a competent chair of the Military Commission. Yang mentioned
that there were many who opposed Deng’s reform policies, and proposed means by which the troops
could, following Deng’s eventual passing, preserve and implement the program of reforms. Yang asked
attendants of the meeting to discuss various ideas and ways to cope with contingencies. The officers
relentlessly criticized Jiang, who was opposed to the reforms and incompetent at his job. They said that
Jiang knew nothing about military affairs, had no courage or resolution, and was not fit for the position of
chair.
Jiang was shocked and alarmed upon learning of the meeting and began to despise Yang even more. Jiang
was henceforth determined to bring about the Yang brothers’ destruction. Zeng Qinghong sensed that it
was an opportunity for something big and that Deng could be used to bring down the Yang brothers.
Jiang thus began leaking rumors to the outside and told Deng that there were signs the Yang brothers had
betrayed him. Jiang told Deng he was worried. After several such conversations Deng began to feel that
Jiang was telling the truth, and asked his followers to look into this issue. His followers claimed that what
Jiang said was valid. From that point on the Yang brothers had lost Deng’s trust.
4. Fooling People With Rumors, Seizing Power
In advance of its 14th National Congress, the CCP Central Committee began its selection of leaders at all
levels. From Sept. 7–10 the Central Military Commission held a meeting to discuss the arrangement of
personnel in the military. Yang Baibing, who was in charge of the military’s personnel assignments and
organizational structure, listed out 100 middle- and high-ranking officers who were to be promoted. After
the names were approved by Liu Qinghua and Yang Shangkun, Yang Baibing presented the list to Jiang
Zemin. Jiang and Zeng Qinghong closely reviewed the list and thought that it was a great opportunity to
drive a wedge between the Yang brothers and Deng. Jiang and Zeng held on to Yang’s list and didn’t give
it approval.
Jiang and Zeng began scheming on many fronts in hopes of sowing discord between Deng and Yang
Shangkun. Deng was by then in his later years and lived in the seclusion of his home; notable is that he
was deeply affected by his children. Zeng meanwhile, as the child of a high-ranking official, was well
aware of Deng’s situation and planned to use Deng’s children as a means to sow dissent between Deng
and Yang. Zeng proceeded to get in touch with Deng Pufang, Deng Xiaoping’s eldest son, through friends
Liu Jing and Yu Zhengsheng—themselves children of top officials. Liu was a Red Guard leader during
the Cultural Revolution and an author of the book Theory of Bloodlines. He was also Zeng’s classmate at
Beijing College of Industry (now known as the Beijing Institute of Technology). Liu was at the time
Mayor of Kunming City, while Yu was Mayor of Qingdao City. Liu and Yu were both former vice
chairmen of the China Federation for Disabled Persons, which was run by Deng Pufang. Under Zeng’s
instruction Liu and Yu met with Deng Pufang and spoke about the danger of the Yang forces and the need
to take precautions against the Yang brothers. Later, when Zeng met with Deng Pufang in person, he
stressed to Deng how loyal Jiang Zemin was to Deng Xiaoping, how capable of a leader Jiang was, and
that Jiang was unable to fully wield power owing to interference from the Yang brothers. Zeng then, with
Yang Baibing’s list of 100 officers in mind, told Deng Pufang that the Yang brothers held too much
power and were planning to replace Deng Xiaoping’s followers in the military—a dangerous prospect.
Zeng also told Deng Pufang that were Zhao Ziyang to reemerge and become Chairman of the Political
Consultative Conference it would indicate that Deng Xiaoping had “indirectly admitted his mistake [in
the Tiananmen Massacre].” Zeng further claimed that Yang Shangkun was still conflicted over the
massacre and seemed set on redressing the student democracy movement. Were Yang to team up with
Zhao, Zeng implied, they might well supplant Deng Xiaoping’s power. Zeng was playing off of Deng
Xiaoping’s political anxieties, and pitched his rhetoric exactly as befit the occasion. Zeng talked up the
massacre so as to breed discord between Deng Xiaoping and Yang Shangkun. Zeng tried to intimidate
Deng Pufang by hinting that if what he said was true, the political situation could spiral out of control and
result in Deng Xiaoping having to pay for his mistakes.
At the same time, Jiang Zemin and Zeng increased their efforts in collecting evidence to blackmail the
Yang brothers. For one, they furtively spread word of the “list of a hundred names” that Yang Baibing
had proposed. And secondly, they continued spreading rumors, with the effect that false statements about
the Yang brothers quickly spread throughout Beijing. Everywhere it could be heard, “The Yang brothers
are extremely powerful,” “Yang Shangkun wants to replace Deng Xiaoping,” “Yang Shangkun and Yang
Baibing are planning to organize a silent coup,” “Deng Xiaoping is dying,” and “Yang Shangkun wants to
be Chairman of the Military Commission.”
The CCP’s military was itself split into factions over the matter and beset with conflict, as some there,
too, were dissatisfied with the Yang brothers. Jiang and Zeng thus resorted to people such as Zhang
Aiping and Wang Daohan for help. Through such figures the military’s anti-Yang faction was goaded
into speaking ill of the Yang brothers, even in Deng’s presence. They would claim things such as that the
Yang brothers were growing too powerful and aspired to seize military power. They even went so far as
to suggest that the Central Military Commission be restructured, with the Yangs being removed from
power.
5. Evading a Disaster
When Yang Shangkun questioned Jiang Zemin as to why the list of a hundred names was yet to be
approved, Jiang claimed that he needed to seek Deng Xiaoping’s advice. Not long after Zeng Qinghong
and Deng Pufang met, Jiang Zemin, together with Yu Yongbo—Vice President of the General Political
Department of the Military—visited Deng Xiaoping in person. Jiang accused the Yang brothers of
seeking to seize military power. The Vice Chairman of the Central Military Commission, Liu Huaqing,
was also present at the meeting.
Jiang and Zeng used various means to ensure that Deng heard news of the Yang brothers’ supposed
aspiration to “seize military power” and “redress the Tiananmen Massacre.” Deng thought this was
serious. Serious all the more in that Deng had just been ill, and he realized he needed to do what he could
to arrange political affairs after his death, not only ensuring that the 14th CCP National Congress continue
to execute his policies of reform and opening-up but also to prevent the Massacre from being redressed
and he, himself, from being criticized posthumously. Deng fell for Jiang’s feigned show of loyalty, and
fell into the conspiracy Jiang and Zeng had designed. Facing objection from Chen Yun and Bo Yibo,
Deng had no choice but to abandon his plan of having Jiang replaced. Deng decided to remove the Yang
brothers’ military power and to recommended veterans such as Liu Huaqing and Zhang Zhen to Jiang for
the assistance they could provide in controlling the military. But Deng knew, deep in his heart, that Jiang
was not reliable and could only amount to a makeshift leader. For the long run Deng wanted to select a
young “successor beyond the 20th century.” During the 14th CCP National Congress, Deng, in an
unexpected move, arranged for Hu Jintao (then 49 years old) to be Jiang’s successor. Something of the
sort—arranging for the successor of the current successor—had never happened before in the CCP’s
history.
Deng’s appointment of the Fourth Generation leader bespoke of his distrust of the Third Generation
leader, Jiang Zemin. It was little secret that Hu Jintao was Deng’s designated “crown prince.” But this
fact has been suppressed, as seen in Kuhn’s book, which Jiang oversaw. Again history is distorted. Kuhn
quotes Jiang as saying: “I may say that it was 10 years ago that I set my eyes on him.” [4] Much to the
dismay of the general public, Jiang later refused to step down from power when his term had come to an
end. Through the biography Jiang tries to recuperate his image, saying things such as that he liked to
“bring in new blood” into the Party leadership. Kuhn claims that Jiang “had often felt that he was of a
different generation than most Western leaders,” and that he “expected Hu’s appointment to alter
international perceptions of China.” Flying in the face of the fact that most people had long expected Hu
to be the successor, the biography has Jiang saying, “Probably no one has thought that we would choose
Hu Jintao.” [5] Many an ignoble act and faux pas by Jiang is rewritten in Kuhn’s rosy depiction.
According to Liu Huaqing’s recollection, Deng Xiaoping just before the 14th CCP National Congress
wrote a letter to the Politburo concerning the placement of personnel in the Central Military Commission.
The letter stated that, “From now on, Liu Huaqing and Zhang Zhen shall handle the daily affairs of the
Military Commission under Jiang Zemin’s leadership. In the future, when choosing a successor, the
person must be someone who is familiar with the affairs of the military.” In the letter Deng laid out
detailed plans for the new leadership of the Military Commission.
The 14th CCP National Congress was held in Beijing from Oct. 12–18, 1992. To the surprise of many the
Yang brothers were, at the Congress, stripped of their military power. Yang Baibing, though promoted to
membership in the elite Politburo, was actually stripped of real power.
Despite his astuteness and experience, Deng was deceived by Jiang and Zeng, the younger generation,
and became the unwitting victim of a cunning scheme. From then on the Deng and Yang families ceased
all interactions with one another. The 60 years of friendship between Deng and Yang Shangkun crumbled
amidst the party’s internal political struggle. Little did Deng realize that by cutting off ties with Hu
Yaobang, Zhao Ziyang, and the Yang brothers he was destroying the regime he had labored to build.
Along the way Deng thus lost his most capable aides in both the Party and the military. Even though Liu
Huaqing was loyal to Deng, Liu was aged and no longer that capable; Liu was no match for Jiang and
Zeng in matters of Party politics. Some years later Liu was purged by Jiang and Zeng.
6. Two-Faced
Jiang could be described as two-faced in his dealings. He will beg and plead with a person when in need
of help, only to dump the person when he meets with trouble. This can be seen in Jiang’s shifting attitude
towards the Yang brothers. During the 5th Plenary Session of the 13th CCP National Congress in
November 1989, Deng resigned from his post as the chairman of the Central Military Commission. In the
inauguration ceremony, Jiang played humble and said that he was “not prepared for the job,” that his
“ability falls short of (his) wishes,” and that he lacked military experience. Jiang made repeated overtures
of loyalty to the Yang brothers. He said that it would be “beneficial” for his job if Yang Shangkun
worked as the First Vice Chairman of the Military Commission, and Yang Baibing as the Secretary
General of the Military Commission. A dozen days later, Jiang’s speech ran as a lead story on the front
pages of the People’s Daily, Liberation Daily, and other major state-run media.
By acting humble and expressing it officially in the press, Jiang toadied to the Yang brothers and even
displayed something of a servile attitude. But this was none other than the same Jiang who later spoke ill
of the Yang brothers to Deng.
Such chameleon-like reversals can also be seen in Jiang’s interactions with the family of Deng Xiaoping.
When Deng was alive, Jiang was always full of smiles at seeing Mrs. Deng. After Deng’s demise,
however, his descendants became targets of Jiang’s political intriguing. Though Jiang himself had a son
who was notorious for corruption, Jiang threatened Deng’s son on account of his being corrupt. Jiang also
deprived Deng’s family the right to interpret Deng’s political doctrines.
Years back, after Jiang finally made his way into Beijing’s government, the day he had long awaited
finally came: the chance to meet Deng in person. Deng’s children still recall the day Jiang was first
invited to Deng’s residence. As Jiang stood humbly before Deng, his face full of nervous smiles, those in
attendance that day didn’t take notice, having seen many a bootlicker before. Awkwardness of the sort
was nothing new. When Deng happily introduced the new Jiang as the Party’s General Secretary, people
remained nonchalant, showed no interest, and are said to have at most given him a second quick glance.
Upon coming to Beijing, the first thing Jiang wished to do was frequent Deng’s residence. Jiang was new
to Deng’s place and didn’t know his secretaries, nurses, relatives or others. Even Deng’s bodyguards and
staff were unfamiliar. Jiang didn’t know these people or their backgrounds, but he was clear enough on
the principle he would follow: to not offend a single person in Deng’s residence. Countless it seemed
were the people passing through Deng’s residence, flowing through like water. But Jiang felt up to the
task, having long since made a practice of fawning.
Be it in the corridors or the courtyards of Deng’s place, whoever it was Jiang met—little kids being no
exception—Jiang would tuck in his gut, stand slightly aside, and say with a beaming smile, “After you!”
The show of excess, though it delighted the kids, made the likes of cooks and bodyguards nervous. They
felt this had to be a schemer. The sense of discomfort with Jiang’s conduct was shared by others.
It was well-known that Deng smoked a lot. Word had it the tobacco he smoked was of a special make and
filtered for purposes of his health. His cigarettes were produced by the Yuxi Tobacco Company in
Yunnan Province. Deng’s nurses had to not only ensure that he took his medication on time, but also
remind him constantly to smoke less. Each time Deng wished to smoke a nurse would remind him when
last he had smoked and try to persuade him otherwise.
So while those around Deng would kindly persuade him not to smoke, Jiang, himself a non-smoker, was
ever quick to brandish a lighter for Deng. While Jiang might have provoked the ire of several nurses, in
the end he won Deng’s heart.
Usually it was Deng’s nurses and bodyguards who would serve him tea or fetch his slippers. The children
of China’s top officials, who were used to being served and who came to Deng’s residence to play, only
knew to say “Grandpa Deng” and never were sure if they could or should help him in any way. This gave
Jiang an otherwise rare opportunity. On many occasions Jiang would rush to serve Deng tea or fetch his
slippers when he spotted a nurse or bodyguard about to do so. The onlookers were left at a loss for what
to do.
Even to this day, the children present back then joke about Jiang’s flattery.
On what would have been Deng’s 97 birthday were he alive—Aug. 22, 2001—Jiang, as custom would
have it, should have encouraged the media to run articles praising his benefactor, a gesture meant to show
that the current leader hasn’t forgotten how he got to where he was. The act is also meant to set an
example for later generations, and in Jiang’s case, could only serve to enhance his reputation. However,
the directive Jiang gave the Ministry of Propaganda prohibited running any articles that would
commemorate Deng. Such was the extent of Jiang’s gratitude, apparently.
7. Doctoring His Personal History
At the 14th CCP National Congress held in October 1992, Jiang Zemin secured his position as General
Secretary of the CCP. Yet Jiang still felt that his qualifications and record of service were inadequate. It
was thus that he instructed his secretary to take back the copy of his resume, which he had reviewed
before. This time around Jiang put a question mark next to the line “became a CCP member and started
working in April 1946.” The secretary knew at once that Jiang wished to tamper with his resume. The
secretary then spoke with the drafters of Jiang’s resume and told them that General Secretary Jiang now
recalled that he was close with a peripheral organization of the Shanghai CCP in 1943—when he entered
Shanghai Jiaotong University. The wording was meant to be quite loose. Jiang, it implied, hadn’t been
close with the Shanghai underground CCP, nor did he “join” its peripheral organization; he merely “was
close with” a peripheral organization. Yet just exactly how “close” he got was hard to guess.
The change dated anew Jiang’s qualifications and record of service from having been a CCP official
dating back to the Civil War to instead, now, a figure involved in the War of Resistance against Japan.
The difference was significant.
Acting under Jiang’s instruction the Xinhua News Agency published, shortly after the 1st Plenary Session
of the 14th CCP National Congress in October 1992, the resume of all members of the Central Committee
of the CCP and Central Military Committee. Among the records, of course, was that of Jiang, which now
stated that the Secretary had “participated in students movements led by the Shanghai underground CCP
in 1943, and became a CCP member in April 1946.” The fact is, though, in 1943 Jiang was still in
Nanjing City attending Central University, which was run by the Japanese, and he was never close with
the CCP of Shanghai or any of its related organizations. Qiao Shi, who was quite familiar with the history
of the Shanghai student movement, noticed that Jiang’s new resume had added the words “participated in
student movements led by the Shanghai CCP in 1943.” Qiao began to feel a sense of disgust and anger
towards Jiang. Tensions between Qiao and Jiang grew ever more intense after the passing of the 14th
CCP National Congress.
8. Envying and Hating Deng Xiaoping
According to the internal decision during the14th National Congress in 1992, Jiang Zemin was supposed
to complete his power transfer to Hu Jintao at the 16th National Congress of the CCP in 2002. Deng
Xiaoping spoke privately with Li Ruihuan and Wan Li so as to ensure that Jiang would complete the
transfer of power at the 16th Congress. On Oct. 19, 1992, Deng attended the 14th Congress and met with
all Party representatives. There he gathered all members of the CCP Politburo Standing Committee to
take a picture with Hu. In the photo Deng and Hu were front and center while Jiang, surprisingly, was in
the back row. Jiang couldn’t stand being positioned as such in a personal picture with Hu Jintao, feeling it
hurt his image as the General Secretary of the Party. He instructed personnel to remove his image and that
of others from the picture. As a result, when the CCP Central Committee’s General Office delivered the
photo to Hu, the background was completely dark. Only Deng and Hu remained in the photo. Twelve
years later, in 2004, during the celebration of what would have been Deng’s 100th birthday, three
different versions of the photo surfaced, creating quite a stir.
Outsiders speculated much about Hu, he being the new face in Chinese politics as of the 14th National
Congress of the CCP. Jiang and Zeng Qinghong secretly instructed intelligence agencies to monitor Hu’s
every move and collect whatever information possible about Hu. Hu understood well the danger he faced,
and was thus extremely cautious during his years as General-Secretary-to-be.
Jiang and Zeng grew only more ambitious after their scheme to overthrow the Yang brothers and secure
Jiang’s post as General Secretary met with success. Their plots and tricks grew increasingly outlandish.
They threatened, roped in, and attacked political opponents by means of spreading rumors and collecting
information on others. It was by such means that Zeng came to be known among CCP elite as “the black
assassin.” Many look at Zeng with an admixture of fear and loathing.
In the wake of the 14th Congress Jiang harbored hatred toward Deng, his having wished to remove Jiang
from his post. This was not readily apparent, of course, as Jiang always made an outward show of respect
towards Deng. Jiang silently cursed Deng for having arranged his successor. On these accounts he could
hardly forgive Deng. Immediately after Deng’s passing Jiang began to punish the Deng family, sparing
not even Deng’s bodyguards or cooks. To the details of this we shall return later, though.
9. Building Jiang’s Private Military
Less than a month after the Tiananmen Massacre of June 4, 1989, the 4th Plenary Session of the 13th
CCP National Congress was held in a heavily guarded Jingxi Hotel. That night, Wen Jiabao, Director of
CCP Central Committee’s General Office, and Yang Dezhong, Deputy Director of the General Office and
Director of Central Security Bureau, reported to new CCP General Secretary Jiang Zemin on the plans for
investigation and surveillance of former General Secretary Zhao Ziyang. Each time Jiang met with Yang
he would recall that Yang had served as a bodyguard to Zhao Ziyang, loyally guarding the reformer’s
safety. With Zhao’s fall from power Yang now served Jiang in the role of overseeing surveillance.
Jiang felt uneasy about his personal safety, having reached the acme of power by means of a bloody
crackdown on student democracy activists. Jiang took a lesson from the fact that in 1976 it was the
Central Security Bureau Director, Wang Dongxing, who arrested the “Gang of Four” and put a halt to the
Cultural Revolution, and thus wished to have someone trustworthy as director of the Central Security
Bureau. The current director—Yang Dezhong—hardly fit the bill, though his qualifications were without
equal: his credentials came from service to Zhou Enlai, Hu Yaobang, and Zhao Ziyang. Jiang thus lacked
an excuse to remove Yang. What he could—and did—do, however, was to position as many trusted
persons as possible around Yang. Jiang first arranged for the former Chief of Shanghai City’s
Organization Administration Division, You Xigui, to come to Beijing and head up Jiang’s Security
retinue. Jiang would later promote You to Deputy Director of the Central Security Bureau, making him a
deputy of Yang.
After Jiang’s position was secured, in order to have You Xigui—who was head of Jiang’s security
retinue—become Director of the Central Security Bureau, Jiang ignored opposition from military officials
and broke CCP protocol by buying out Yang Dezhong (who was then Director of the Central Security
Bureau) via promoting him to the rank of “First Class General”—the highest of General rankings—and
then advising him to retire. The post of Director of the Central Security Bureau was then filled by You.
The Central Security Bureau was thus, in effect, reworked for Jiang into something of a private army.
The Central Security Guard is responsible for the safety of all central government officials, including the
chairman and vice chairmen of the People’s Congress and the Chinese People’s Political Consultative
Conference. For this reason Zeng Qinghong paid special attention to the Guard. In the name of training,
he ordered everyone in the Guard to participate in political study sessions, the effect of which was to
brainwash the guards into loyalty not only to the CCP but also, more importantly, to Jiang Zemin. You
and Zeng deployed security guards to monitor high-ranking officials.
Jiang has never trusted Wen Jiabao, Director of the General Office of the Central Committee, either, as
evidenced by several moves Jiang made. First, Jiang transferred his personal secretary, [6] Jia Ting’an,
into the General Office of the Central Committee; Wen could thus be monitored more easily. Not long
after, Jiang further transferred Vice General Secretary of the Shanghai CCP Committee, Zeng
Qinghong—a diehard follower of Jiang—to the General Office, which is a deputy position beneath Wen
Jiabao. Jiang meanwhile eliminated the Central Political Reform Research Institute, which had been
established by Zhao Ziyang. From that point on Wen could no longer issue orders to the secretaries in the
General Office—as they reported directly to Jiang—though Wen continued to hold the title of Director of
the General Office. Zeng Qinghong was in a full command of the secretaries. Everyone in the General
Office could sense Jiang’s distrust of Wen.
After the October 1992 meeting of the 14th CCP National Congress, Jiang managed to solidify, even if
temporarily, his position in the CCP. In March 1993, the CCP held its Eighth National People’s Congress,
at which Jiang arranged for Zeng to become Director of the General Office, transferring Wen to be
Deputy Director of the Central Committee’s Leadership Group for Rural Areas—a significantly lesser
post. From that point on Jiang’s faction had full control of the General Office.
Jiang closely monitored all officials of high rank, while being afraid, ironically, that he himself was
monitored. Jiang doesn’t trust anyone. After retiring from the position of General Secretary of the CCP,
Jiang continued to hold the post of Chairman of the Central Military Commission, and it was by means of
this position that he concurrently held the post of First Political Commissar of the Central Security
Bureau.
In 1994, the 4th Plenary Session of 14th Congress announced that the Party’s old vanguard should retire
without strings attached and not interfere with the administration of political affairs. In order to further
cement Jiang’s position in the Party, Zeng added a controversial statement to the announcement, which
read, “The history of the Communist Party tells us that there must be a firm central leading group that is
formed through practice, and in this center, there must be a core. Without such a leading group and core
the Party’s undertakings cannot succeed.” Those against the insertion believed it would remind people,
rightly so, of the era when Mao Zedong built up a personality cult. Yet Jiang welcomed the addition. In a
telling about-face, Jiang struck out the statement “the core of the CCP Central Committee of Hu Jintao”
upon stepping down from his post as General Secretary. Jiang saw it fit that the statement was there in his
day, providing a certain flattery, but not thereafter, lest others enjoy the adulation it suggested. This is a
longstanding trait of Jiang’s.
* * *
In 1992 another event took place that would impact China as well as regions beyond her borders. The
founder of a practice called Falun Gong, a Mr. Li Hongzhi, introduced to the general public his discipline
of meditation and self-improvement.
____________________
Notes:
[1] An idiomatic Chinese expression suggesting duplicity.
[2] Fu Guoyong, “Yifa Zhiguo Zhong Zai Yifa Zhiguan.” Epoch Times Chinese, May 9, 2004.
http://www.epochtimes.com/b5/4/5/9/n534128.htm.
[3] Robert Lawrence Kuhn, The Man Who Changed China: The Life and Legacy of Jiang Zemin (New York: Crown, 2004), 214.
[4] Ibid., 529.
[5] Ibid., 353.
[6] In China’s communist party a personal “secretary,” usually male, can be an influential political figure and is charged with
overseeing political affairs more so than the “secretarial” tasks that one might imagine.
At the 4th Plenary Session of its 14th Congress, the CCP announced the completion of its power
transition from its second generation of leaders to its third. At the time Deng Xiaoping’s health was
steadily declining. At the 14th Congress, Deng undermined his own power base by asking long-time
strong supporters Yang Shangkun and his brother to resign from the military. Jiang Zemin, who was
Chairman of the CCP’s Military Commission though he had never so much as touched a gun, feared
terribly that the military would not follow him as its leader. Seeing that other senior Party members were
in a weakened position and knowing that he indeed had followers in the military, Jiang proceeded to
focus on the Beijing municipal government—a key political battlefront.
Beijing has always been the target of power struggles. Without controlling the Beijing Garrison, the
Beijing municipal government, and the Central Security Guard regiment, a top CCP leader could never
feel secure. Before the Cultural Revolution, when Mao Zedong was worshipped in idolatrous fashion, the
Beijing Municipal Party Secretary at the time, Peng Zhen, dared to order the People’s Daily, The Beijing
Daily, and Guangming Daily not to publish Yao Wenyuan’s article “History’s New Drama: Hairui
Resigns from Government Office.” Mao Zedong had to ask his loyal followers in Shanghai to publish the
article as a separate booklet, saying Beijing had become an independent kingdom that “needles could not
penetrate and water could not permeate.” At the end of March 1966, before the official May 16
nationwide launch of the Cultural Revolution, Mao first removed from office Peng Zhen (Party Secretary
of Beijing) and Lu Dingyi (Minister of Propaganda). Even Mao Zedong, the Party Chairman for whom
“one sentence [was] equivalent to ten thousand,” needed to control Beijing before he could truly
accomplish much. It was for this reason Jiang was anxious about conquering Beijing.
1. Making Enemies With Chen Xitong
In selecting cadres, Jiang had only one principle: those who were not loyal to him wouldn’t be used. One
can just imagine what kind of administration this would make for. When Chen Xitong was Mayor of
Beijing the city successfully hosted the 1990 Asian Games and completed the construction of the second
and the third ring roads, considerably improving the city’s infrastructure. In comparison, under Jiang’s
rule the City of Shanghai instead of making improvements experienced a food crisis two years after Jiang
became the head of the city. Deng Xiaoping had to send to Shanghai the capable Zhu Rongji to help out.
On the issue of the Tiananmen Square Massacre, Chen suggested bold actions and acted with consistency
while Jiang wavered. And while Jiang took a strong stance in closing the liberal Shanghai paper World
Economic Herald, he later confided to Zhao Ziyang that the suppression was wrong. Chen believed he
should be rewarded with a promotion (from his post as a Politburo member) for having preserved “social
order” in Beijing during the student movement. When Jiang was instead promoted, Chen naturally felt it
unjust. Chen had a good relationship with Deng, and Deng openly praised Chen as a reformer during his
1992 visit to the Capital Steel Plant. Thus Chen had reason to believe he stood above Jiang. Jiang thus felt
that to gain full control of Beijing his greatest obstacle was Chen.
Jiang likes to show off and is by nature a jealous man. If anyone looks down on him he is sure to retaliate.
Jiang both hated and feared Chen at the same time. There were many reasons Jiang couldn’t tolerate
Chen, the first of which came about when Chen invited Hu Qili, a follower of Zhao Ziyang, to dinner.
After becoming China’s “emperor” Jiang spared no expense at removing anyone who had followed Zhao
Ziyang. Jiang believed that the greater he distanced himself from Zhao, the more legitimate would be his
position. Jiang’s resistance to Zhao was such that real facts surrounding Zhao and history mattered not.
On the day of his inauguration as General Secretary of the CCP, Jiang claimed that he wanted to make up
for “the losses” created by Zhao, and never mentioned so much as a word about Zhao’s contributions
(during his tenure as Premier and General Secretary) to China’s economic development and political
reform.
Jiang knew the Chinese people held a special place in their hearts for Zhao. Zhao’s attitude toward the
suppression of the student democracy movement was clearly different from that of many senior
politicians and Party members at various levels of government. This gave Zhao an aura of sincerity, as if
he spoke for the people and did so without concern for his own personal safety. During Zhao’s time as
General Secretary both China’s Gross Domestic Product (GDP) and living standard improved swiftly.
Many people were grateful to Zhao on this account. Considering Zhao’s public approval and political
achievements, Jiang stood little chance of keeping his post—which he had in effect stolen from Zhao—
were Deng to ever ask Zhao to return to power.
After gaining power, Jiang began purging—under the banner of resisting an alleged attempt by the West
to quietly change China—reformers and those who had close ties with Zhao. A defiant Chen Xitong,
however, went against Jiang’s crusade.
When Zhao fell from power with him went Hu Qili, a member of the Politburo Standing Committee, and
Rui Xingwen, the Secretary of the Secretariat of the CCP’s Central Committee. These three were the
highest-ranking officials ousted in connection with the Massacre. Rather than try to avoid trouble, Chen
arranged a secret meeting with Hu Qili and Wan Li at Capital Hotel. Chen not only attended the meeting
but went so far as to greet Hu at the entrance of the building.
Coincidence makes for a story, so one wrinkle in the meeting deserves retelling. Chen thought he had
planned everything perfectly. Little could he have expected that it would be the Japanese, of all things,
who would leak news of his meeting. It just so happened that on that evening journalists from several
Japanese television stations and news agencies, who were stationed in Beijing, had a meeting at the
hotel’s Japanese restaurant. One of them by mistake entered Chen’s private room and saw Hu, Wan, and
Chen dining and drinking together. Chen mistook the journalist for a Japanese businessman and didn’t
pay much heed. The next day, however, the Japanese journalist reported in a Japanese newspaper what he
had seen. Three days later the Xinhua News Agency’s internal reference department passed the
information to Jiang Zemin in the “Domestic News Summary” section of its internal circular. The affair
took Jiang by surprise and triggered much anger. Jiang was surprised, in that the experienced and capable
Chen had now joined up with Hu. And angered, in that Chen was clearly going against him by daring to
socialize behind his back with Zhao’s followers, whom he most resented. Jiang couldn’t tell whether this
was part of a plan by Deng Xiaoping to pave the way, by first reinstating Hu, for Zhao’s return to power.
He immediately ordered the Central Disciplinary Committee to investigate the matter further. After the
manager at the Capital Hotel confirmed Chen’s meeting, Jiang made a personal call to Chen accusing him
of “taking the wrong stand.” Chen gave the excuse that Wan Li had requested the meeting and that he
therefore had no choice but to arrange for it.
Jiang didn’t dare to offend Wan, and so had to keep his anger to himself. Deng later did indeed ask Hu to
return to his post, thus confirming Wan’s close relationship with followers of Zhao. As Jiang feared more
than anything that Zhao would regain power, his resentment of Chen only grew from the incident.
But before Jiang’s lingering resentment could be resolved a new grudge was added. Deng Xiaoping in the
spring of 1992 went on his now-famous “Southern Tour” of China. Chen knew all along that Deng’s
intention was to further reforms, and thus Chen aired pro-reform slogans amidst programming on Beijing
Television and used every opportunity to advocate for reform. This agitated Jiang, who sided with
conservative, Leftist senior politicians such as Chen Yun and Li Xiannian. To keep Deng’s unhappiness
with him from leaking to the media, Jiang ordered that all coverage of Deng’s tour by state media should
follow a “unified reporting standard” dictated by the Ministry of Propaganda. Jiang declared that no
reporter could write anything on the matter without his consent.
To Jiang’s surprise, Chen made the first move. Chen had the Beijing Daily, controlled by the Beijing
Municipal Government, quickly report the “spirit of Deng Xiaoping’s speech in Southern China.” Acting
on Chen’s instructions, the Beijing Daily published Deng’s speech that had first appeared in the Shenzhen
Daily. The Beijing Daily published the speech a day earlier than the People’s Daily, the official
newspaper of the CCP. This put Jiang in a defensive position. To Jiang, Chen’s pro-reform words and
actions only highlighted Jiang’s own inflexibility and conservatism. For this Jiang resented Chen even
further.
Soon after, Zhou Guanwu, Chairman of Capital Steel’s board, and Chen arranged to have Deng visit
Capital Steel. During the visit nobody from the Standing Committee of the Politburo made an appearance.
In front of many leaders and workers at Capital Steel, Deng said, “As for the things that I have said
recently, some people are listening and some aren’t. Beijing has mobilized itself, but some in the central
government still refuse to act.” Deng asked Chen to “pass the word” to the CCP Central Committee that,
“Whoever opposes the policies of the CCP’s 13th National Congress will have to step down.” Upon
hearing Deng’s words Jiang shuddered, almost as if thunder was rolling overhead.
Fear-stricken, Jiang then went through the Central Committee’s General Office to blame Chen for failing
to notify him of Deng’s visit in advance. Chen retorted that the General Office should seek information
on Deng’s activities from Deng’s office itself, rather than blaming Beijing. Rebuffed and angered, Jiang
grew more determined still to remove Chen.
When Chen had been mayor of Beijing, Jiang was the Party Secretary of Shanghai. Chen was thus, as the
leader of Beijing, much better informed than Jiang. Jiang was well aware that Chen had a good
relationship with Deng Xiaoping and Li Peng. In those days Jiang was thus all smiles whenever he met
Chen. During his first two years as General Secretary of the Party, Jiang would mind his behavior and at
least show respect towards Li Peng. But after the Yang brothers were removed from their positions at the
Party’s 14th Congress, Jiang grew increasingly more arrogant.
Chen witnessed the changes in Jiang and knew that his meeting with Hu Qili and his actions in regards to
Deng’s Southern Tour had made him an enemy. In Chen’s judgment, Jiang was the type of person who
absolutely couldn’t let someone off the hook, even over the most minor of provocations. He had heard of
Jiang’s retaliation against the students who challenged him during the 1986 student movement in
Shanghai. So it was that Chen now hoped to, having offended Jiang and wishing to protect himself, have
Jiang removed from his post while Deng was still alive.
Thus in early 1995 Chen reported on Jiang in a letter to Deng co-signed by seven provincial Party heads.
The content of the letter is yet unknown to the outside world. Deng didn’t make any comment after
reading the letter and handed it off to Bo Yibo to handle. Prior to the Tiananmen Massacre, when the
eight senior politicians had discussed the issue of Zhao Ziyang’s successor, Deng had wanted to pick Li
Ruihuan or Qiao Shi. It was Bo Yibo who had strongly backed Jiang Zemin. Deng had reached an old age
by that time and lacked the energy to change the General Secretary; were it otherwise he would have done
so upon returning from his 1992 tour. Deng’s passing of Chen’s letter to Bo Yibo was meant to suggest
what kind of person Deng recommended for the post—somebody different from whom Bo would or did
choose, that is.
Bo was notorious among high-ranking officials for his maltreatment of others, opportunism, ingratitude,
and duplicity. A demonstration of this was Bo’s relationship with Hu Yaobang. In 1979, a few years after
the Cultural Revolution, Bo was rehabilitated and released from prison thanks to Hu. Later, at the 4th
Plenary of the Central Committee of the 11th Party Congress, Bo, again thanks to Hu’s endorsement,
became a member of the Central Committee, Vice Premier of the State Council, a State Councilor, and
Deputy Director of the CCP Advisory Committee. However, on Jan. 15, 1987, while at an extended
meeting of the Politburo that he chaired, it was none other than Bo who urged Hu to step down.
After reading the accusatory letter from Chen, Bo, instead of investigating Jiang further, grew happy that
he had something he could hold against Jiang. The letter, he believed, now gave him means to manipulate
Jiang’s power. Bo could now blackmail Jiang into promoting his son, Bo Xilai, along with Bo’s trusted
circle of friends.
Bo then summoned Jiang to his side and handed him the letter, not saying a word. Jiang began to sweat
and turned pale upon reading the accusatory letter, visibly shaken. Reportedly he even began to tremble.
Jiang pleaded with Bo to pitch in a few good words to Deng on his behalf, allowing him to keep his post
as General Secretary. Bo replied that he would do his best. He then instructed Jiang that Jiang must
remove Chen Xitong in order to avoid later trouble, and that he should begin with those positioned around
Chen. Jiang emphatically nodded “yes.” Son Bo Xilai’s rapid advance through the ranks of power a few
years later stemmed solely from this affair—that is, his father’s special relationship with Jiang.
2. Bringing Down Chen Xitong
At the 4th Plenary of the Central Committee of the 14th Party Congress, Deng Xiaoping transferred all of
his powers to Jiang Zemin. Jiang felt that the time to bring down Chen Xitong had arrived. All that was
needed now was an opportunity. Chen’s accusatory letter of early 1995 made Jiang feel that he had to act
immediately.
Zeng Qinghong advised Jiang that after senior Party members passed away their children would band
together and form factions, the result of which could be a threat to Jiang’s power. This never was a
legitimate cause for concern, however, in that the offspring of China’s top officials were busy making
fortunes by way of loopholes in the current policies. As long as Jiang held aloft the banner of “fighting
corruption,” the royal offspring would swear their allegiance so as to avoid punishment and prosecution
from police, the judiciary, and the Central Disciplinary Commission.
Jiang planned to strengthen his power base by deploying not only sons Jiang Mianheng and Jiang
Miankang, but also extended family and relatives, to various central ministries and local governments
after the 14th Party Congress. Jiang had to wait, however, until his political opponents had been purged in
the name of fighting corruption. There would be plenty of vacant positions for relatives after opponents
had been purged and the supposed “anti-corruption” campaign had come to a close.
Jiang made up his mind, and as Bo Yibo had suggested, he decided to start the purge with one of
Beijing’s deputy mayors. After careful consideration Jiang made Wang Baosen his target.
In 1995 the former Chairman of Capital Steel’s board, Zhou Guanwu, fell from power owing to financial
misconduct. His son, Zhou Beifang, was arrested and put in prison. A case of bribery involving
secretaries in the Beijing Municipal government was exposed, and Wang, the Deputy Mayor at the time,
was found dead. His death occurred in April on Qifengcha Mountain in Huairou County, near Beijing.
Authorities claimed that Wang had taken his own life with a bullet. In reality, however, the footprints,
wounds, gunpowder, and a bullet shell found at the scene all pointed to murder rather than suicide. One
obvious piece of evidence was that at first only the bullet was found at the scene; the bullet shell, not
found at first, had been pounded into the ground and was found only later with the help of police who
employed a mine detector. Furthermore, the place where Wang died was remote and rarely visited by
people. After the body was found the scene was made off-limits. The fact that the bullet shell had been
pounded into the ground could mean only that somebody else was present at the time of Wang’s death.
According to internal information obtained from the National Security Bureau, that “somebody” was a
secret agent from the bureau, sent by Jiang.
Chen panicked after Wang’s death. The conventions of CCP officialdom have it that how something is to
be reported depends fully on the top leader’s likings. Since China’s Central TV station widely broadcast
Wang’s death, it meant that a power struggle at the top, launched by Jiang, had begun. The sentencing of
Zhou Beifang prompted Deng Xiaoping to contemplate what would happen after he passed away. Were
he to clash with Jiang, his children stood to become the target of Jiang’s purgings. Now several months
after submitting his accusation letter, Chen saw that Jiang was still in power, indicating that Deng had no
intention of changing horses mid-stride. Chen knew well the peril he was in.
Jiang made an all out effort to take down Chen. Ultimately what he used to incriminate Chen was the
claim that: “Between July 1991 and November 1994, in his official functions with foreigners, Chen
accepted 22 expensive gifts (eight gold and silver items, six expensive watches, four expensive fountain
pens, three cameras, and one video camera) totaling 555,000 yuan [about US$67,700].” For a leader at the
Politburo level such as Chen, the charge was really nothing in effect; a person could even make the case
he was relatively clean. Even so, Chen was put in prison on these grounds and sentenced to 13 years for
corruption plus four years for neglect of professional duty. Chen was sentenced, in total, to a 17-year
prison term.
At the end of 2003 Chen was released on bail so that he might undergo treatment for bladder cancer.
Upon his release, Chen wrote a 5,000-word plea letter in which he accused Jiang of persecuting him
politically and claimed that he was the victim of a power struggle. He also accused Jiang and his sons of
financial crimes. Chen said that he had once had a business partnership with Jiang, and knew from this
that one of Jiang’s sons, Mianheng, had illegally transferred 15 million yuan (US$1.83 million) of state
funds. This was perhaps all Chen could reveal to media at the time. To know more we must, regrettably,
wait for the day when Chen can speak freely to media.
Today even ordinary citizens know that Jiang’s crusade against corruption was merely a pretext, a
weapon, in a prolonged power struggle. One need only look at China’s top power brokers of today to see
this: among them are the thoroughly-corrupt Jia Qinglin, Huang Ju, and Chen Liangyu, each of whom is
marked by a history of wrongdoing. Not one of them has a clean record. The CCP’s corruption has
penetrated every level of the system, top to bottom.
3. The Taiwan Strait Crisis
Around New Years of 1995–1996 the Third Taiwan Strait Crisis erupted in full. On March 23 of that
year, Taiwan held its first democratic election. Along with victor Li Denghui, presidential candidates
included non-partisan figures Chen Lu’an and Lin Yanggang as well as Democratic Progressive Party
candidate Peng Mingmin.
Jiang was terribly worried over Taiwan’s holding of elections. He was afraid that the reverberations of a
democratic election in Taiwan would stir longings for democracy in mainland China. Thus in order to
diminish the likelihood of democratic elections in China, the CCP, represented by Jiang, concocted a host
of rather farfetched ideas, claiming things such as that the conditions of the nation and the “quality” of its
citizens were not in keeping with the standards necessary for democratic elections; another was that
traditional Chinese culture was not fit for democratic elections. Yet Taiwan and mainland China share the
same culture and are of the same ethnic heritage, being connected by flesh and blood. Once the elections
in Taiwan met with success, this fact itself was enough to negate the CCP’s claim that mainland China
was unfit for democracy. It was on this account that Jiang—a dictator who usurped state power without
election—burned with anxiety.
Jiang gave a speech at the beginning of 1995, titled “Further advance the great cause of unity in the
motherland,” which was later referred to by the outside world as “Jiang’s eight points.” It can be said that
the “eight points” lacked any form of new insight. At the time, the relationship between Taiwan and the
mainland was not tense, what with Hong Kong was about to return to China. The driving force behind
things was Jiang’s wish to achieve something involving relations between the mainland and Taiwan; he
sought to be credited some day in China’s history books. Jiang was mediocre and bumbling at best in
matters of foreign affairs and internal governance of China, and he was bereft of innovation. His
predicament is summed up well by the Chinese idiom, “He who doesn’t have diamond tools should not
promise the fine work of chinaware.” The result of Jiang’s ambitions was thus not only the ruining of
precious chinaware but the near outbreak of war.
Li Denghui had been practicing pragmatic diplomacy ever since becoming Taiwan’s president in 1988.
For example, he made a “vacation” trip to Singapore in 1989, and visited the Philippines, Indonesia, and
Thailand in 1994. Jiang was wary of Li’s goal of promoting international recognition of Taiwan as a
sovereign nation. The most insufferable event for Jiang was Li’s private visit to Cornell University, in
New York State, made as an alumnus in May 1995. Li’s visit was approved by the U.S. Government
under pressure from both the House of Representatives and the Senate. Li gave a speech at Cornell titled,
“The desire of the people often occupies my heart,” in which he expressed his democratic ideals. Li then
went one step further by preparing to hold Taiwan’s first presidential election. Jiang in return, incited by
senior army commanders, decided to flex his muscles. [1] But to this we shall return shortly.
Jiang had been cautious up to that time about holding military drills, for though he was China’s top
military man he lacked even the most basic of military experience. Nor had he ever led a battle, let alone
directed a war. In military affairs he was a total outsider. His biggest “military thought” was probably
“emphasizing politics,” the purpose being to instill in the army loyalty and obedience. Facing pressure
from the military, Jiang thus needed to assign a leader—ideally someone who was a die-hard follower and
trusted subordinate. Jiang thus thought of the Military Commission’s Vice-Chairman, Zhang Wannian.
4. Jiang’s Military Representative
Zhang Wannian’s promotion was dramatic. When Jiang inspected the Jinan Military Region in 1992,
Zhang was the regional Commander. Zhang wished not to miss any chance to show Jiang his loyalty and
devotion, even shouting aloud slogans such as “Firmly support the Party Central Committee and Central
Military Commission with Jiang Zemin as its center.” The implication was that Jiang was the center of
not only the Party Central Committee but also the Military Commission.
Jiang’s position in the Party was not stable at that time. He urgently needed to raise trusted followers
within the military. Even though Jiang and Zhang Aiping had a close relationship, and the Third Field
Army led by Zhang Aiping didn’t like the Yang brothers, they didn’t necessarily care much for Jiang still.
Jiang, for his part, felt like a junior in the presence of “father figure” type senior commanders and
couldn’t manage to order them around. Only someone who could truly take orders from Jiang could be
his key military man, he knew.
The slogan Zhang Wannian had shouted out made Jiang ecstatic. Upon returning to Beijing, Jiang
immediately promoted Zhang to the position of General Chief of Staff of the Central Military
Commission. Then in 1993 he promoted Zhang to the rank of full General. Zhang didn’t disappoint Jiang.
He once gathered his entire personnel in the chief of staff office and ordered them to sing, in front of
Jiang, the song “The gun will forever obey the Party’s command.” Jiang couldn’t have been happier. The
song, adapted from a Mao Zedong quote, was tantamount to saying “power will forever follow Chairman
Jiang’s command.”
Zhang’s flattery proved quite effective, and people soon began to follow in his footsteps, benefiting in
kind. Yu Yongpo was one such figure. Flattering Jiang without letup, Yu in 1992 was named Director of
the General Political Department of China’s military and later, in 1993, given the rank of General. At the
beginning of 2001, at a banquet Jiang hosted at the Huairentang Hall in the Zhongnanhai compound
meant to entertain the entire top brass military, Yu Yongpo shouted out “Long live Chairman Jiang!” The
move made him something of a laughing stock, though it was not seen as such by Jiang.
Another master of flattery was Guo Boxiong. Guo was an army commander and Major General in the
47th Army. In the early 1990s Jiang went to inspect Shanxi Province. Along the way he visited the 47th
Army. Jiang usually likes to nap after a full meal. Knowing this, Guo saw an opportunity too good to pass
up. After Jiang dined one meal, Guo dismissed the soldier outside of Jiang’s door and stood guard
himself. Jiang slept for over two hours, which drove Guo to new depths of boredom. Yet Guo didn’t dare
to leave to so much as use the bathroom for fear that when Jiang awoke he might miss, for lack of
fortitude, his golden opportunity. After Jiang awoke he stepped out of his room and was pleased to see a
soldier standing guard. He wondered to himself why this soldier was so old. He took a second look and
saw that it was none other than Major General Guo Boxiong! No Major General had ever stood guard for
him before, and so Jiang took an instant liking to Guo. Guo was soon transferred to the Beijing Military
Region to become a Vice Commander. After that he was promoted three times, becoming at one point the
Vice Chairman of the Central Military Commission and being awarded the rank of full General.
It was facing a Military Chairman such as this and commanders of this nature that Taiwan’s Li Denghui
didn’t take seriously China’s threats.
5. Military Drills
China’s Communist Party proceeded to hold three military drills. One was the East China Sea missile
drill, which lasted from Aug. 15 to 25, 1995, and took place 90 miles north of Taiwan; this involved the
firing of missiles off the coast of Taiwan. So as to influence Taiwan’s Legislative election on Dec. 2,
1995, the CCP arranged another drill, this time involving navy and amphibious operations at Dongshan
Island and taking place from Nov. 15 to 25. At the beginning of 1996 the CCP then transferred troops
from various regions to the coastal areas directly across from Taiwan.
The CCP’s frequent military drills and troop deployment had the U.S. believing the situation was serious.
By the end of February, John Deutch, the Director of America’s Central Intelligence Agency, raised
concerns yet again that the CCP’s military drills would result in a miscalculation or inadvertent accident.
The CCP’s initial strategy included real ammunition firing, crossing the midline of the Taiwan Strait,
deploying submarines, and attacking and conquering the outer islands surrounding Taiwan. The budget
for the drill was over 4 billion yuan (US$488 million) and the scale of the drill was shocking. The Clinton
administration sent a “clear and unambiguous” message indicating that the drill was a careless and foolish
decision. They warned China that if any accident were to happen during the drill, unpredictable
consequences would result. In the meantime the U.S. deployed two battleships—”Independence” and
“Nimitz”—to patrol the Taiwan Strait.
Jiang knew the hardliners in the military wouldn’t give up the drill, but he really did not dare to ruin
China’s relationship with the U.S. Scarier yet to him was the likelihood that if war broke out the military
would seize the opportunity to expand its power. Such a turn of events would likely render his position as
Chairman of the Military Commission an empty title.
Jiang carried out Deng Xiaoping’s suggestion to “hide one’s capacities,” and thus made three suggestions:
missiles were not to fly over Taiwan, aircraft and navy vessels were not to cross the midline of the
Taiwan Strait, and troops were not to attack or conquer the outer islands.
These decisions, made at an expanded meeting of the Politburo, were afterwards reported to Li Denghui
by Liu Liankun, a People’s Liberation Army Major General who was doubling as an undercover
intelligence agent for Taiwan. In order to calm Taiwan’s nervous citizenry, Li then publicly declared
something he had learned from Liu, namely, that “the missiles the CCP fired were unarmed, and they
would not work if it so much as rained.” In 1998, two Taiwan intelligence officials defected to Beijing.
The information they disclosed resulted in Liu Liankun’s arrest and execution.
6. Jiang Shows Off
At the end of 1995, Jiang Zemin brought out his theory of “Three emphases” while inspecting Beijing.
The Three emphases could be considered Jiang’s first “theoretical” creation. Of the Three emphases,
Jiang talked the most about “emphasizing politics.” According to Jiang’s own explanation, “Politics to be
emphasized include political direction, political stance, political discipline, political discernment, and
political sensitivity.”
The Three emphases are little more than a means for Jiang to build up his own authority. The so-called
“emphasizing politics” amounted to nothing but “persistently following the leadership of the Communist
Party,” or in other words, persistently following “the Party’s core”—none other than Jiang’s own
leadership. At the time, Deng Xiaoping was still alive and Jiang’s post as General Secretary was not
stable. When the Three emphases were made public hardly was there response. It was something else
about Jiang that created commotion: his inopportune hair combing.
Jiang visited Spain in late June 1996. The King of Spain, Juan Carlos, invited Jiang to review the guards
of honor, who consisted of three military services. To King Carlos’s surprise, at that very moment Jiang
took out a comb and proceeded to groom himself in the King’s presence. During the welcoming banquet
in his honor that night, Jiang sat at the right hand side of the Queen. Once again he combed his hair right
in front of the camera. On June 25, the largest newspaper in Spain, El Pais, as with many other papers,
ran a front-page photo and story about the incident, the caption of which was “King Carlos watches Jiang
Zemin combing his hair.” Soon after newspapers around the world ran the photo. Many Chinese who
were living overseas felt a collective loss of face upon catching wind of the article.
Carlos obviously wasn’t comfortable with Jiang’s behavior—behavior in total disregard of diplomatic
protocol. Surprisingly, the Protocol Department of China’s Foreign Affairs Ministry never raised with
Jiang the issue of his offensive behavior.
More than once has Jiang combed his hair in the presence of TV cameras. When in March 1993 the
National People’s Congress was held in Beijing, Jiang, who sat center stage, took out his comb and began
combing his hair with such focus it was as if the outside world had receded from his mind. Agence France
Press captured the moment on camera, making it available to the rest of the world. On Oct. 24, 1995,
Jiang was giving a speech in front of the “Centenary Treasured Vessel,” which China was presenting to
the United Nations. Faced with cameramen and reporters from around the world, Jiang once again pulled
from his suit’s inner pocket a comb and proceed to groom himself.
Jiang Zemin is nicknamed “the clown.” Most all of his foreign visits were more like theatrical
performances than diplomatic meetings. In 1996 Jiang visited the Philippines. On the trip he voluntarily
proposed to stop disputing jurisdiction over the Nansha Islands (also known as the Spratly Islands) and to
develop an economy shared with the Philippines. That same night, Philippine President Ramos invited
Jiang to a banquet on a yacht. Jiang was still thinking of the charming Senator Gloria Macapagal Arroyo,
[2] though, whom he had just met. At the yacht Jiang, still very much lost in his daydream, to others’
surprise grabbed a microphone and launched into a rendition of Elvis’s “Love me tender.”
Jiang’s passion for showboating has often reached alarming heights. He might recite poems, sing songs,
or showcase his English without consideration of the occasion. In 2000 Jiang met with overseas Chinese
at the Waldorf Astoria Hotel in New York City. When a Chinese man asked about plans to develop
China’s western region, Jiang responded by reciting two verses from a Tang Dynasty poem, which goes,
“Drink up one more cup, please, as beyond the western Yangguan garrison gate friends would be naught.”
When another Chinese person asked Jiang whether he would retire, Jiang replied by reciting a verse from
a Song Dynasty poem, that goes, “I would rather return with the west wind.” The answers, if they could
be called that, were all show and no substance. While visiting the United States Jiang on one occasion
recited a passage from a Lincoln speech to President Bill Clinton for no apparent reason. When in 1999
Jiang stopped by Great Britain en route to France he declared, in English, “The air here is very good.
There’s natural gas everywhere.” Perhaps he meant to say that the air was fresh, which of course had
nothing to do with natural gas. The following day the quote was carried in a Chinese-language
newspaper, quickly making Jiang the butt of jokes. Jokes about Jiang’s sloppy English date back to his
days as Mayor of Shanghai. On one occasion as mayor Jiang accompanied foreign visitors to a public
park. Jiang wanted to show his guests that Shanghai had become open, and that young people dared to
openly date in the parks. He pointed at a young couple and declared “Making love!” much to his guests
discomfort.
On Oct. 24, 1999, Jiang was visiting a museum in France. Out of sudden excitement, Jiang grabbed the
hands of first lady Bernadette Chirac and started dancing the waltz as a surprised President Jacques
Chirac looked on. Just as alarm began to set in for the president, Jiang again grabbed Bernadette’s hands
and laughed aloud, ostentatiously. President Chirac was upset by the showing, thinking Jiang was
embarrassing himself. French people fumed over the incident, feeling it to have been insulting.
On April 19, 2000, President Suleyman Demirel of Turkey was prepared to give Jiang a national medal
during his visit to Turkey. It is common courtesy that on such occasions the host country’s president
would himself place the medal on its recipient. To everyone’s surprise, however, an eager Jiang jumped
to the fore and physically bestowed the medal upon himself, much to the shock of onlookers.
On Feb. 21, 2002, Jiang welcomed President George W. Bush from the United States at the Great Hall of
the People. He sang “O Sole Mio” in front of more than 100 guests. President Bush clapped in response
and half-jokingly asked U.S. Secretary of State Colin Powell to sing a serenade. Powell smiled and
politely declined. At the dinner party that evening Jiang grabbed the U.S. First Lady Laura Bush for a
dance. Then, not satisfied, Jiang grabbed U.S. National Security Advisor Condoleezza Rice and the wife
of the U.S. Ambassador to China, Sarah Randt, for yet another dance. That same year Jiang created an
even more embarrassing scene while dining during a visit to Iceland. While everyone present was busy
eating at the banquet, Jiang stood up unexpectedly and broke into song, leaving guests and hosts at a loss
for what to do. Jiang’s wife, Wang Yeping, appeared very much embarrassed. The scene was afterwards
detailed, complete with a large color photo, by the largest Icelandic daily newspaper.
When the head of a nation visits a foreign country there are certain diplomatic protocols and etiquette. A
lack of etiquette doesn’t reflect merely on the individual involved but also on his or her nation. If Jiang
were not his country’s leader on the above occasions, his approach to engaging foreign leaders wouldn’t
matter much, for he would just be the jester of another leader’s court. But as the head of the Chinese
nation, Jiang’s exaggerated acts and disregard of diplomatic protocol reflected poorly on not only himself
but the image of China and its people.
7. Falun Gong’s Rapid Growth [3]
During the period of 1995–1996, the number of students of the Falun Gong in China grew exponentially.
In just two short years the number of adherents grew to over 20 million, with the practice growing still
quicker at that point.
Mr. Li Hongzhi, the founder of Falun Gong, was born on May 13, 1951, into an ordinary family in
Gongzhuling City of Jilin Province. Li had once joined the military and been transferred, in 1982, to work
for a grain and oil company in Changchun City. He had since childhood practiced a private, unknown
Buddhist discipline. In 1984, together with the consent of his teachers, Li modified the practice into
a qigong form that would be suitable for the general public; it had hitherto been taught only in private,
being passed down in lineage-fashion from teacher to student. He named the practice Falun Gong. On
May 13, 1992, Li held in Changchun City the first of what would be many public talks and classes.
While working for the grain and oil company Li was just a common worker. At the time he lived with his
family in a dormitory provided by his work unit, and living conditions were rather modest. According to
practitioners of Falun Gong who have been to Li’s home, the furniture in the unit was very humble, and
corridors of the building lacked electric lighting. In the early period of his public teachings Li would
typically travel with a few students, and living conditions were said to have been most difficult; little
money was put into material comfort or convenience. When Li first arrived in Beijing nobody knew who
he was. He and his students spent their first few nights in the city staying in a crowded train station,
benches serving as beds.
During the two years from 1992 to 1994, Li held 54 workshops around the country, most lasting between
8–10 days. Often he had to hurry from class to class, rushing about China’s many cities owing to the
demand for his teachings. Often Li couldn’t even manage to purchase train tickets with a seat. When
tired, Li could often sit only on the train’s floor; when hungry, he would often just fill his stomach with
instant noodles; when sleepy, he would often nap by leaning on a nearby chair or wall.
So as to make his practice available to more people, the fee Li charged for his workshops was the lowest
in all of China. A 10-day workshop cost only 40 yuan (US$5)—a third to half that charged by
other qigong masters. Other masters in fact had complaints about Li’s low fees, and China’s Scientific
Qigong Research Association even suggested to Li, in response, that he raise his fairs. Li declined,
however, out of consideration for his students’ financial circumstances.
When Li Hongzhi first began to spread the exercises and teachings of Falun Gong there were numerous
practices of qigong in China. Phony practices were mixed in with the genuine ones, good people mixed in
with the bad. Things were complicated at the time. Although many people had indeed in those years
gained better health from doing traditional practices such as Tai Chi and the Five Animal Movements,
there were also many fake qigong masters who allegedly duped people. Many persons spent a fortune
seeing and studying with qigong masters, hoping to be healed. Many ultimately met with no avail. Falun
Gong quickly stood out from the thousands of qigong practices dotting China’s landscape, its prominence
being inseparable from its marked effects on health and well-being.
In September 1992, Falun Gong was recognized by the Scientific Qigong Research Association as an
affiliated qigong practice. In December of the same year, Li brought several of his understudies with him
to participate in the Oriental Health Expo, held that year at the China World Trade Center in Beijing. Li’s
name and Falun Gong spread like wildfire there, quickly creating a stir. The Executive Director of the
health expo, a Mr. Li Rusong, and the chief consultant to the event, Professor Jiang Xuegui, spoke highly
of Li Hongzhi’s qigong powers and the contributions his Falun Gong were making. Professor Jiang said
of this:
Li Hongzhi can be considered a star at the 1992 Oriental Health Expo. I have seen Li create many
miracles. I saw patients with canes, patients in wheelchairs, and those who had challenges moving about
come to him for help. After receiving treatments from Li they could miraculously stand up and walk. As
the chief consultant to the expo, I am here to responsibly recommend Falun Gong to you. I think this
practice will indeed bring people healthy bodies and new deportment.
On Aug. 31, 1993, the Chinese Foundation for Justice and Courage, a subordinate organization of the
Chinese Ministry of Public Security, wrote a letter to the Scientific Qigong Research Association
thanking Li Hongzhi for offering free health treatments to delegates of the Third National Commendation
Convention for Justice and Courage. On Sept. 21, 1993, the People’s Public Security Daily, under the
sponsorship of the Chinese Ministry of Public Security, published an article, titled “Falun Gong Offered
Free Health Treatments to Just and Courageous Model Workers.” [4] The article indicated that most of
the model workers there “had very good results after receiving treatments.”
With the spreading of Falun Gong numerous people were benefiting physically and spiritually. Many
recovered from incurable illnesses or refractory conditions. The practices founder, Li Hongzhi, came to
be called honorifically “Master Li,” as is standard in traditional Chinese practices. The name of Master Li
was soon known to almost every family and person of every age. News of the practice spread quickly by
word of mouth, with persons who recovered from long-term illness or intractable ailments, for example,
often encouraging family members and friends to try it out.
But significantly, what Falun Gong was changing wasn’t limited to physical health. As Falun Gong is a
Buddhist practice, it is rooted very much in moral teachings, of which the virtues of honesty, compassion,
and tolerance are stressed. Its aspirations thus extended beyond health to include becoming a better, more
moral person; the heart, or mind, is in Falun Gong to become more pure and the realm of being loftier.
That this came at a time when China was transitioning to a market economy is significant. With China’s
market transition a corresponding decline in moral values was noticeable, with pursuit of material gain
increasingly coming to trump more traditional values. It was precisely in such a setting that those who
aspired to live by honesty, compassion, and tolerance felt the preciousness of Falun Gong. Before Falun
Gong met with suppression (in 1999), one could make out the positive impact of the practice even in
reports from China’s tightly-controlled media. The following, which after 1999 Chinese officials sought
to blot out, prove telling.
On March 17, 1997, the Dalian Daily ran an article, titled “An Anonymous Old Man’s Silent
Contributions.” The report told the story of a man in his seventies, named Sheng Lijian, who voluntarily
built four roads for villagers in one year’s time, the length of which totaled over 1,000 meters. When
people asked him to which work unit he belonged and how much he should be paid, the old man replied,
“I practice Falun Gong. I’m only trying to do something good for people, so I won’t accept payment.”
The Dalian Evening News on Feb. 21, 1998, reported the story of Yuan Hongcun of the Dalian Naval
Vessel Institute. On the afternoon of Feb. 14, Yuan dove three meters deep into ice-covered waters to
rescue a child who had fallen into an ice hole on the Ziyou River. Yuan was praised afterwards as a
“living Luo Shengjiao.” [5] Yuan’s institute awarded him a Silver Medal of Bravery. By that time, Yuan
had been practicing Falun Gong for two years.
On July 10, 1998, the China Economic Times ran a story titled “I Can Now Stand.” It told the tale of an
older woman, named Xie Xiufen, who was diagnosed at Beijing 301 Hospital with paraplegia stemming
from vertebral damage. Though she had been bedridden for 16 years, after taking up Falun Gong she was
able to walk again.
The Yangcheng Evening News ran on Nov. 10, 1998, a short photo report titled “Both the Young and Old
Practice Falun Gong.” According to the report, on the morning of Nov. 8, leaders of the Martial Arts
Association of Guangdong Sports Commission visited Guangzhou Martyr’s Cemetery and watched a
large-scale morning group exercise session of 5,000 Falun Gong students. They asked participants how
they felt after doing Falun Gong, and the replies they heard were more than encouraging. One of the
students present, the report told, “was previously paralyzed. Seventy percent of her body had been numb,
and she had suffered from bladder and bowel incontinence.” But now, it told, she “has a rosy complexion
and is agile in her movements.” The report included photos of a 93 year old man and a two-year old child
doing Falun Gong exercises. According to the report there were nearly 250,000 people practicing Falun
Gong in Guangdong Province at the time; it told that Falun Gong made a point of keeping its teachings
free to anyone wishing to learn.
When Jiang Zemin launched a suppression of Falun Gong in 1999, he claimed that he had previously
never heard of the discipline. Yet truth be told, Jiang had indeed heard of it and its positive effects as
early as 1993. Retired CCP officials of high rank pay much attention to their health, and so it was that
many of them had taken up Falun Gong by that time. Of all people, Jiang’s wife, Wang Yeping, had
begun to practice Falun Gong well before the 1999 ban, and Jiang himself had read the main book of
Falun Gong, Zhuan Falun. What had interested Jiang was not the healing of illness but instead the
potential, which he longed for, to learn a range of things from this well-known Master Li. Jiang wanted to
know about his previous life, to have his political future foretold, and to know who was loyal and who
would become a political opponent. He wondered further whether he would encounter challenges ahead
and what means he should use to maintain power.
In the summer of 1993 Jiang thus sent for Master Li two times. Li seemed to have sensed Jiang’s
intentions, and replied, “We can treat your ailments but we won’t talk politics.” The messenger was both
surprised and disappointed at the reply. Surprised, in that he realized this Master Li was unusual and
could read well into Jiang’s unspoken plans; disappointed, in that Li was different from
other qigong masters, who would have been flattered into agreement. The messenger realized he stood to
benefit little from the exchange, and grew pessimistic about Jiang’s prospective meeting with Li.
Jiang, meanwhile, grew only more intrigued about Li after hearing more praise of the man from the
outside world. He once again requested a meeting with Li, this time arranging a meeting time a good two
weeks in advance. At the last minute, however, Jiang’s subordinate felt that he wouldn’t profit much from
the meeting personally and was afraid Li would refuse to answer Jiang’s questions, which would put
Jiang in an awkward position. He offered Jiang many reasons why it would be better to not meet with Li,
and persuaded Jiang to cancel the meeting the day before it was slated to take place.
In 1995 Li Hongzhi concluded the teaching of his practice in mainland China. Early that year he went to
Paris to give a class, his first teaching outside of China. While in Paris he had a small meeting with
several Chinese diplomats, one of whom was China’s ambassador to France. Li was then invited to give a
speech at the Culture and Education Division of the Chinese Embassy in France. Afterwards Li traveled
to Sweden and later to the United States. Falun Gong began to grow around the world.
As of January 1996 Li’s book Zhuan Falun was ranked among the 10 best sellers by the Beijing Youth
Daily, and would remain near the top of the list up until its banning several months later.
____________________
Notes:
[1] That is to say, Jiang wished to suggest to Taiwan and its voters what might happen to the island should a pro-independence
leader come to power.
[2] Arroyo, who was elected as the Philippines’ President in 2001, has been characterized for her good looks as “the beauty
President.”
[3] Wu Ming, “A Brief History of Events Leading Up to Jiang Zemin’s Irrational Persecution of Falun Gong in
China.” Clearwisdom.net, Nov. 18, 2004, http://www.clearwisdom.net/emh/articles/2004/11/18/54661.html.
[4] Renmin Gongan Bao, Sept. 21, 1993, Vol. 956, http://minghui.org/mh/articles/2000/2/18/4273.html.
[5] Luo Shengjiao was a Chinese soldier who died in 1952 in North Korea while attempting to save a child from drowning.
1. Deng Xiaoping’s Death
1997 was a year of great political importance for the top leadership of the Chinese Communist Party
(CCP).
Back in December 1993, Deng Xiaoping made an appearance at the Yangpu Bridge of Shanghai, and
then, shortly after, he went on television on the eve of the Chinese Lunar New Year. These were Deng’s
last public appearances before his passing. A frail Deng not only caused a sharp drop in Hong Kong’s
stock market, but also put those close to him in the CCP on edge.
Jiang Zemin, not having the privilege of seeing Deng at will, had to report to Deng through Deng’s office.
Jiang felt somewhat relieved upon seeing Deng’s public appearances, believing that his turn might soon
come. Jiang and Zeng Qinghong often schemed together as to how they could strengthen their positions.
Two things they identified were a need to win over more officials through bribery and to place their own
men in key posts. In years following Deng’s appearances, Jiang resorted to various corrupt measures to
form his own factions and barter for loyalty with high-ranking officials. Jiang in the process discovered
another useful trick of corruption: to get rid of those who don’t swear allegiance by means of an “anticorruption” campaign. This would prove to be a means Jiang turned to frequently in ensuing years,
targeting political opponents.
As long as Deng was alive, however, Jiang would never have real peace of mind. In December 1996,
Deng, having been plagued by Parkinson’s disease for years, was hospitalized for his worsening medical
condition. Two months passed and Deng was still alive, much to Jiang’s disappointment. Jiang was
worried that Deng might recover from his chronic illness and could hardly wait for Deng to die; the wait
was excruciating.
Deng was pronounced dead at eight minutes past nine o’clock on the evening of Feb. 19, 1997.
Jiang’s followers wasted no time in issuing a Pronouncement to the entire Party, the entire army, the
whole country, and to the peoples of all nationalities—using the name of the CCP’s Central Committee,
the Standing Committee of the People’s Congress of China, the State Council, the Political Consultative
Committee of China, and the Central Military Commission—that “the Party’s Central Committee with
Comrade Jiang Zemin at its core” would definitely carry on the policy of reform and opening up started
by Deng Xiaoping.
During the ceremony to pay last respects to Deng’s body, Jiang feigned a sad voice for his eulogy,
wishing to conceal his true feelings. He even managed to shed a few tears for the public. But everyone
aware of the truth understood what was really on Jiang’s mind. To this day the photo that captures Jiang
wiping his tears at the event is the object of ridicule.
Two days after the memorial service, all the officers and soldiers of China’s army and all police personnel
were ordered to study Jiang’s eulogy and commanded to “be absolutely and totally in line with the Party’s
Central Committee with Jiang Zemin at its core.” In the editorial issued by the People’s Daily on Feb. 25,
the words “the Party’s Central Committee with Jiang Zemin at its core” appeared as many as nine times.
2. Qiao Shi—an Eyesore
At this point in time Yang Shangkun, who had stepped down from power under pressure from Jiang
Zemin and Zeng Qinghong, was still alive, though 91. His brother, Yang Baibing, was not fully cut off
from the military, despite having been stripped of military power. These men were but one of several
reasons Jiang would lie awake at night, sleepless. But hurdles had to be removed one at a time, Jiang
knew, and so he prioritized a target for removal: Qiao Shi.
Born in December 1924 in Shanghai, Qiao joined the CCP at the age of 16 and was once an organizer of
student movements in Shanghai. From 1945 to 1949 he was the secretary of the CCP’s underground
branch at Shanghai Tongji University and chief coordinator of the student committee of Shanghai’s
underground CCP, Deputy Secretary of the district committee of Xinshi (Shanghai’s underground CCP),
and Secretary of the student committee of District One of northern Shanghai. In those years Jiang was
still undecided and hesitant about which road to take. After the CCP came to power, Qiao began from the
bottom by becoming a Minister in the CCP’s Liaison Ministry to foreign countries and an alternate
Secretary of the CCP’s Secretariat in 1982. Afterwards he held the posts of Director of CCP’s Central
Office, Minister of CCP’s Organizational Ministry, Vice Premier of the State Council, Secretary of CCP’s
Disciplinary Committee, and President of CCP’s Cadre Institute. From 1993 to 1998 he was chairman of
the Standing Committee of the 8th National People’s Congress and a member of CCP’s Political Bureau.
With experiences in student movements, industrial systems, liaisons with foreign countries, and
responsibilities for intelligence and discipline, Qiao in time became a top decision maker rivaled not even
by Li Peng (who was really the son of a martyr) or Party veterans such as Yang Shangkun and Bo Yibo,
much less Jiang Zemin—a long time subordinate.
Jiang was not even close to Qiao, be it for reasons of seniority or ability. Not long after coming to Beijing
Jiang, having a knack for monitoring others, learned that Qiao was the choice pick of both Deng Xiaoping
and Chen Yun—the communist veterans representing both factions within the Party. People within the
central government often said that Qiao had earned his positions. Jiang took such remarks to mean he was
seen as incompetent, and thus it was that the seeds of Jiang’s resentment toward Qiao were planted. In
fact in 1985 Qiao—who was seen as steady, sensitive, and decisive—was endorsed, along with Hu Qili,
by communist veterans as one of the top leaders of the next generation. Qiao was among the candidates
for Party Secretary even, following the Tiananmen Massacre of 1989, as Deng wished to give him
consideration following Deng’s disillusionment with past Secretary Zhao Ziyang.
Jiang knew that he was in an inferior position compared to Qiao. Qiao was backed by the political and
legal affairs institutions as well as the Standing Committee of the People’s Congress, which were led
respectively by Peng Zhen and Wan Li. What dwarfed Jiang even more was Qiao’s reputation and image.
When Qiao was first elected into the CCP’s inner circle he became a favorite of both reformists and
conservatives, and was privately named the heir to the communist throne during the CCP’s 13th
Congress. During the CCP’s 14th Congress Qiao was elected a member of the CCP’s Politburo with 316
favorable votes—only one vote short of a unanimous count. The one naysayer was none other than a
resentful Jiang Zemin.
The people of Beijing expressed their wish that Jiang would step down and Qiao be promoted, saying
“the river (Jiang) ebbs while the stone (Shi) emerges”—a saying that was most frustrating for Jiang. Jiang
twitched with fear every day before the Yang brothers (Shangkun and Baibing) were forced out of power.
For it was little secret—even Jiang himself knew—that Jiang’s ascendance to the highest post in the CCP
was more the result of a compromise among CCP elders than patronage from Deng Xiaoping. Deng,
though generally in agreement with Jiang’s candidacy, was not without misgivings and had gone back
and forth in his mind regarding Jiang several times. Li Xiannian, Jiang’s real patron, endorsed Jiang not
so much for his achievements as for having served Li well.
Jiang gazed at the group photo on his table, which was taken on June 21, 1989, after the six new members
of the Politburo—Jiang Zemin, Li Peng, Qiao Shi, Song Ping, Li Ruihuan, and Yao Yilin—had just been
elected during the 4th Plenary Session of the 13th CCP Congress. Standing in the middle was Yang
Shangkun, vice chairman of CCP’s Military Commission. Deng’s intention couldn’t have been any
clearer: Yang Shangkun was the real doer of Deng’s wishes while Jiang, like a side dish, mattered little.
Both of the Yang brothers had by that time been forced out of the power game and Deng had since passed
away, all of which had the effect of emboldening Jiang. Jiang believed that with Deng gone he was now
highest in rank and thus others should rally around him, that he should be the center. But Qiao Shi, who
seemed to disregard Jiang, would still speak out, as usual, whenever he saw things that needed to be
redressed. This was a vexing matter for Jiang, giving him something of a constant churning feel in his
stomach.
Jiang rose to power in Shanghai and, as the Party Secretary of the city, created a “Shanghai faction”
which long enjoyed notoriety. After Jiang became the top leader in the Party, government, and military,
he began filling vacancies wherever they occurred with his Shanghai faction. Deng raised objections to
this on several occasions. Qiao in kind pointed out to the Politburo that officials should be selected from
throughout the country. Though Qiao didn’t address anyone by name, those present at the meeting were
said to have all looked in Jiang’s direction.
One month after Deng passed away, the German financial newspaper Handelsblatt interviewed Qiao.
Zeng Qinghong rushed to present the translation of the interview to Jiang and said, rather mysteriously,
“Besides the usual topics related to the legal system and the People’s Congress, Comrade Qiao Shi
stressed one other thing to the German reporter.” He deliberately paused a moment, continuing only after
he could see Jiang’s anxiety mounting. “He said that his main objective was to counter the Leftist
policies.”
“Anti-Leftists?” Jiang asked nervously. Jiang couldn’t help but recall the time he almost fell from office
during Deng Xiaoping’s tour of southern China.
When Qiao was interviewed on March 9, 1995, by China’s state-run CCTV, he said that a market
economy was dependent upon the legal system, and that the process for economic legislation—being a
priority over other forms of legislation—should be completed within one year. Tian Jiyun, Vice Chairman
of the People’s Congress, echoed the sentiment by stating People’s Representatives should have the right
to choose candidates and that new government policies should be openly explained to the people. Qiao
pleaded during the 3rd Plenary of the 8th Session of the People’s Congress that all government workers
were servants of the people, rather than masters over them. He stated that it was important to build a clean
government starting from improving the (state) system, with particular emphasis on the legal system.
Each and every word Qiao said bred in Jiang still deeper resentment.
The major hurdles for Jiang were removed when Deng passed away and the Yang brothers fell from
power. Now the thorn in Jiang’s side was Qiao Shi—the man who stood for building a true legal system.
Jiang’s next strategic move thus became to force Qiao into retirement at the Party’s 15th Congress.
Jiang again struck a deal with Bo Yibo, another Party veteran. Bo promised to pressure Qiao to retire
while Jiang, for his part, apologized to Bo for not having done enough to “take care of” Bo’s son, Bo
Xilai.
On April 26, 1997, the person Jiang believed to be Qiao’s major political backer—Peng Zhen—died.
Peng was a tough Party elder who even Mao knew not how to handle at times, such as in 1966 at the start
of the Cultural Revolution. Jiang felt tremendously relieved over a formidable gerontocrat like Peng being
gone.
3. Hired Writers
Jiang Zemin proceeded to hire three writers—Teng Wensheng, Wang Huning, and Liu Jizhong—to help
achieve his political goals. Among the group, Teng was the most distant from Jiang, Wang the most
admired by Jiang, and Liu the one who enjoyed friendship most with Jiang. Most of Jiang’s literary and
oratory flare, if we are to call it such, came from some combination of the three.
Teng Wensheng: the “Top Writer in Zhongnanhai”
Born in October 1940, Teng Wensheng graduated in 1964 from the Department of CCP History at the
People’s University of China. He had successively held the posts of Associate Fellow, Fellow, Head of
the team on theory, and Deputy Director at the Institute of the Secretariat of CCP’s Central Committee.
He also served as Executive Director of the Research Society on Ideological Work for the Chinese
Workers, as well as Staff and Deputy Secretary General of CCP’s Advisory Committee. In 1989 Teng
became Deputy Director of CCP’s Institute of Policy Research, and later was promoted by Jiang to its
directorship. Having been a member of the CCP’s Central Committee at its 15th Congress, Teng was the
main writer of the political report of the following, 16th congress.
While working at the Institute of the CCP’s Secretariat in 1980 Teng was responsible for collecting
material and information about China’s liberal intellectuals, such as Fang Lizhi, Wang Ruowang, and Liu
Binyan. All such figures were eventually thrown out of the CCP, with material and information gathered
by Teng serving as the basis. In September 1987, Zhao Ziyang, with the backing of Deng Xiaoping,
dismantled the institute.
One source from Beijing has revealed that Teng, who was an expert on Mao Zedong, advised Jiang to
follow Chairman Mao’s style if he were to gain control of the Politburo. That is to say, instead of giving
the power to one confidant or close follower, have two or three high-ranking officials compete with one
another internally only to finally come to Jiang for arbitration.
Teng’s biggest contribution to “Jiang Zemin theory,” as Jiang would have it be called, was the creation of
one of the “Three Talks,” known as “The talk of politics.”
Wang Huning: the Original Author of “The Three Represents”
Born Oct. 6, 1955, in Shanghai, Wang Huning had been a professor and mentor of Ph.D. students in the
Department of Political Science at Fudan University. This was before he went to work at the CCP’s
Institute on Policy Research.
Jiang Zemin knew of Wang when he was still the Party Secretary in Shanghai. Jiang admired Wang and
his work almost to the point of obsession, though the two had never met. A few years later, when Wang
was transferred to the CCP’s Institute on Policy Research, then-General-Secretary Jiang recited aloud
paragraphs of Wang’s work upon the very first meeting the two had, taking Wang truly by surprise.
Jiang was keen on memorizing the writings of others for two reasons: first, he didn’t have anything of his
own, so to speak. Thus, witness how often Jiang eludes questions put to him. He simply doesn’t know the
answer, it often turns out, and a flashy quote is one way out of the awkward situation. And secondly,
Jiang can in this fashion give the public an impression of being very learned. The real author of “The
Three Represents”—Jiang’s pet theory which he insisted on adding to the Party Chapter and the
Constitution so as to boost his own status—was in fact Wang Huning. Jiang’s regular attempts at
polishing his public persona involve reciting a wide range of others’ works, with even ancient poems and
classics of Western literature and oration included in the mix. But the effect has been laughter and
suspicion on the part of Chinese more than admiration.
Wang was transferred to the Institute on Policy Research at Zeng Qinghong’s recommendation. Wu
Bangguo had considered also having Wang serve as Jiang’s political advisor. After a trip to Beijing Wu
never forgot the idea of having Wang assist Jiang, and mentioned it to Jiang many times. Later, when
Wang went to work in Zhongnanhai, Jiang told Wang jokingly, “If you hadn’t come to Beijing, they
would have made a big deal out of it.” The remark is telling in that it suggests just how worried were
Zeng and Wu, Jiang’s confidants, over Secretary Jiang’s ineptitude.
Not long after Wang moved to Beijing he drafted for Jiang a speech given at the 5th Plenary of the 14th
Session of the Party Congress, titled “On Twelve Major Relationships.”
Wang’s largest contribution were the theories of “The Three Represents” and “Moving with the Times”—
both of which he formulated for Jiang. Jiang later would cling to these theories as grounds for refusing to
retire from office, and would insert them—billing them as his “creative contribution”—into the Party
Chapter and the Constitution. Wang had once been an Assistant to the Chairman, but was now named by
Jiang, at the 16th Congress in November 2002, a member of the CCP’s Central Committee. After Jiang
began to lose power, however, Wang, who was then the Director of the CCP’s Institute on Policy
Research, offered to be the Vice President of China’s Academy of Social Science, only to be turned
down. He then asked to be the Vice President of the CCP’s school for high-ranking officials. Again his
offer was turned down. Jiang had grown furious with Wang for his revealing the secret behind the Three
Represents’ authorship. The leak deprived Jiang of what would have otherwise been his private
achievement.
Liu Ji: the Non-family Member Who Could Call Wang Yeping “Sister-in-law”
Although Liu Ji was not Jiang Zemin’s only political abettor, none—not even the “general manager”
(Zeng Qinghong) and “political make-up man” (Wang Huning)—would dare to move about as freely as
Liu did in front of Jiang. Even less would they dare to visit the Jiang residence without prior notice.
Born in October 1935 in Anqing of Anhui Province, Liu was assigned to work in Shanghai after
graduating from the Department of Hydraulic Engineering at Beijing’s Qinghua University. Liu was
drawn to “the study on leadership” despite having majored in the sciences. While Jiang was in power in
Shanghai, Liu was promoted to the post of Vice Minister of the Ministry of Propaganda of the Shanghai
government, then under Chen Zhili. Liu was transferred to Beijing in 1993 and became Vice President of
China’s Academy of Social Sciences.
Liu’s theoretical strength gave full play to the building up of a so-called doctrine of the “wise master,”
which attempted to paint Jiang as a Party leader with an open mind and make the then less-influential
“core theory” and the “theory of new authority” mainstream thoughts. Liu’s efforts, if successful, would
allow Jiang to exercise authority backed by power and expand his power backed by authority.
What Jiang did with Wang Huning’s theory was to memorize it and, by internalizing it, make it his own.
But Jiang couldn’t memorize the doctrine of the “wise master,” for it was used by his confidants and
followers to beautify his image. It was absolutely crucial for Jiang to be coached by Liu; he knew exactly
how to improve Jiang’s craft of power politicking. Jiang held a few lengthy talks with Liu on how to
achieve such things, and later came to respectfully call Liu the “master of the state.”
After Jiang moved into the Zhongnanhai leadership compound, Liu would visit Jiang’s residence without
prior notice. Jiang’s guards never dared to stop him. While the two were in Shanghai, Liu never had
addressed Jiang by his official title and always greeted Jiang by his first name, calling him “Comrade
Zemin.” In Beijing Liu’s form of address changed from “Comrade Zemin” to “General Secretary,” but
once inside the Jiang family’s quarters Liu still addressed Jiang’s wife, Wang Yeping, as “sister-in-law.”
After he was transferred to Beijing, Liu reportedly ate his meals at the Shanghai Office in Beijing. When
he wanted a change he would travel to Jiang’s residence by car. If Wang Yeping was in a good mood she
would cook a few southern dishes for Liu. When Wang didn’t have the time, the house staff, who had by
then grown used to Liu’s privilege of casually coming and going, would attend to him with his favorite
dishes.
Later in his years of rule, however, Jiang began to keep a distance from Liu on grounds of Liu’s open
support for several reform-minded intellectuals. Eventually Liu retired from his post of Vice President of
China’s Academy of Social Science.
4. The Return of Hong Kong
In 1984 an agreement arranging the return of Hong Kong to mainland China in 1997 was signed between
British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher and Chinese Premier Zhao Ziyang, a reformist and the brightest
political star in China. On Dec. 19, 1984, Agence France Press took a photo showing Zhao walking next
to Thatcher on red carpet. The narrow-minded Jiang Zemin, who delighted in flattery, couldn’t stand the
thought of letting Zhao take credit for the agreement, and therefore disallowed the public from knowing
the facts. In the CCP’s propaganda campaign afterwards, Zhao was either blurred or cut out of photos that
bore witness to the historic moment. Tricks of this sort have oft been employed by the CCP in its 80-plus
year history.
In May 1997, two months before the return of Hong Kong to China, the leadership in Beijing was
bickering during the CCP’s 15th Congress over the selection of members for Party posts. In order to mask
the disputes, Jiang ordered the Ministry of Propaganda to shift the public’s attention towards the handover
of Hong Kong.
Qiao Shi stated at one meeting that the return of Hong Kong, though an important and much-anticipated
event, was not something to boast about and the delegation sent to participate in the ceremony should
minimize the Party’s involvement; the impression that it was the Party taking back Hong Kong was to be
avoided. Qiao wanted highlighted instead the roles of the government and the People’s Congress. The
innuendo was that Jiang, the General Secretary of the CCP and Chairman of CCP’s Central Military
Commission, should stay behind in Beijing. This position was endorsed by Li Ruihuan, the Chairman of
the Political Consultative Committee. Jiang was left fuming.
The ceremony marking Hong Kong’s return was to be the focus of the world’s attention, a rare and
historic event. Jiang was extremely eager to seize the occasion and make a show of himself. Moreover,
for Jiang presence at the event would have implications for personnel arrangements to be made at the
Party’s 15th Congress. An uncompromising Jiang thus insisted on going to Hong Kong.
During this same time period someone from the Secretariat reported that Zhao Ziyang also hoped to take
part in the ceremony, fulfilling the wish he made in December 1984 when he and Mrs. Thatcher signed
the Sino-British Joint Declaration. “Absurd!” exploded Jiang in response, pounding his fist on the table.
Jiang ordered his secretary to let Luo Gan know that the security at Fuqiang Lane should be stepped up to
guard against the possible return of Zhao.
Ding Guangen transmitted a letter from Beijing’s CCTV asking for instructions on how to handle
coverage of the signing ceremony of the Sino-British Joint Declaration in an upcoming feature show
marking Hong Kong’s return. Zeng Qinghong suggested downplaying the role of Zhao Ziyang and
highlighting instead Deng Xiaoping. But he cautioned that this should be done in a way that couldn’t be
faulted.
On June 30, 1997, Jiang arrived in Hong Kong in high spirits. At a home for seniors he spoke with people
from Shanghai in Shanghai dialect about his skills at mahjong. At a shopping center he greeted the
arranged welcoming crowd in Mandarin Chinese, an accent of Yangzhou dialect and Cantonese
detectable. “It’s not good if I shake hands with this person but not that one—muhao!” [1] he joked. He
would afterwards reveal to a young girl who was present: although he could understand Cantonese (from
which the expression “muhao” comes), he had little ability for speaking it. But this didn’t deter Jiang
who, loving the limelight, would mimic Cantonese all the same.
The people of Hong Kong had been well accustomed by 1997 to things such as the manners of British
gentlemen, the royal elegance, and the refined and courteous smile of Anson Chan, the former Chief
Secretary for Administration of the Hong Kong government. After seeing Jiang, who despite his title of
President of China came across as somewhat bizarre and bereft of self-esteem, the people of Hong Kong
couldn’t help but frown upon him.
On June 30, Liu Huaqing, Vice Chairman of the Central Military Commission, addressed Chinese troops
being sent to Hong Kong during a ceremony held in Shenzhen. Early morning the next day, as it rained
heavily, the troops marched to Hong Kong beneath a sky of dark clouds.
Between midnight of June 30 and the early morning of July 1, the governments of China and Britain went
through procedures relating to the transfer of Hong Kong’s authority. The meeting took place in the hall
of the No. 5 Building, found in the new wing of the Hong Kong Convention Center. At 11:42 on the
evening of June 30, the transfer procedures officially began. On the Chinese side there was State
president Jiang Zemin, Premier of the State Council Li Peng, Vice Premier and Foreign Minister Qian
Qichen, Vice Chairman of the Central Military Commission Zhang Wannian, and the first administrator
of Hong Kong Special Administrative Region Tung Chee-hwa, while on the British side stood Prince
Charles, Prime Minister Tony Blair, Secretary of State for Foreign and Commonwealth Affairs Robin
Cook, departing Hong Kong Governor Chris Patton, and Chief of the Defense Staff General Charles
Guthrie. Both parties walked onto the stage in the hall simultaneously. Of the two major figures that had
signed the joint declaration in 1984, only former British Prime Minister Thatcher was present. Zhao
Ziyang, the other signatory, was back in Beijing under house arrest, his residence under the watch of an
usually large number of soldiers by order of Jiang Zemin. Jiang had the glamour of the occasion to
himself, as it was.
At midnight as the day of July 1 began, the national flag of China and the regional flag of the Hong Kong
Special Administrative Region were raised. The Chinese and British governments held the ceremony for
Hong Kong’s return as dictated by the terms of the Sino-British Joint Declaration on Hong Kong. On the
morning of the same day a celebration was held for the establishment of the Hong Kong Special
Administration at the Hong Kong Convention Center. At the gathering Jiang, who was the media’s focus
during the event, made a speech in his capacity as President of China. He repeated the words of the Joint
Declaration that Zhao had co-signed: the policies of “one country, two systems,” “Hong Kong is to be
governed by the people of Hong Kong,” and that there should be “a high level of autonomy” would not
change for 50 years, he declared, for these were to be the policies guiding the central government for
years to come.
With those words still resounding in the air, the color of Hong Kong’s sky gave way to the color red.
Soon it was decided that Hong Kong’s Special Administrator was to be named by Beijing authorities; the
policies of the Hong Kong government were now only to be implemented after final approval from the
central government in Beijing; and the Hong Kong people’s freedom of speech soon was restricted,
among other changes. It wasn’t long before the Hong Kong government began to function to the
satisfaction and likings of Beijing. Within a few years Hong Kong, once known as one of “the four Asian
dragons” and the “Pearl in the Orient” for its prosperity and freedom, had fallen so fast as to have to
request funding from the central government. The move sparked complaints throughout the island. In
2003 Hong Kong’s Special Administrator, Tung Chee-hwa, acting on Jiang Zemin’s wishes attempted to
make “Article 23″—meant to roll back a number of freedoms in Hong Kong—into law. The move
sparked enormous demonstrations against the legislation, with over one million persons partaking part in
just one march alone.
But on that day in 1997, as he sat center stage, Jiang was beaming with delight. Stealing the spotlight
from Zhao was typical of Jiang, being someone quick to seize upon something good and shrink at the
sight of adversity.
5. Jiang’s Second Visit to the United States
On July 8, 1997, the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO) officially decided to admit to its ranks
former Warsaw Pact members. Former communist nations such as Poland, Hungary, and the Czech
Republic at that point joined NATO. The free world continued its advance towards the East.
From Oct. 26 to Nov. 3, Jiang Zemin visited the United States. It was Jiang’s second trip. Before he
started the trip, however, Jiang grew concerned over the America’s criticism of China’s poor human
rights record. After Jiang took power political reforms had halted, human rights conditions deteriorated,
large numbers of dissidents were jailed, and the prospects for democracy grew worse than in the period
prior to the student movement of 1989. Wishing to pacify American criticism, Jiang used a decoy the day
before he set off on his trip. That day China ratified the “International Covenants on Economic, Social,
and Cultural Rights”—an international agreement that recognizes “the inherent dignity and of the equal
and inalienable rights of all members of the human family is the foundation of freedom, justice and peace
in the world.” This was done despite the fact that the Xinhua News Agency, one of the Beijing
government’s official mouthpieces, admitted meanwhile, in a tune rarely heard before, that “human rights
abuses still exist in our society.”
Observers would have been grossly mistaken if they thought that gesture indicated any intention on
Jiang’s part to respect human rights. Since Jiang had a track record of chronically violating the freedoms
of belief, association, assembly, marching, and demonstration—all of which are guaranteed by China’s
Constitution—could an international agreement be expected to prove binding for the dictator? When
answering questions posed by a Voice of America (VOA) reporter, Jiang categorically denied the report
by the Xinhua News Agency. During his interview with Jim Lehrer, the host of PBS’s News Hour, Jiang
brazenly declared, “China has not done anything inappropriate in the area of human rights.”
During his weeklong visit to the U.S., Jiang revealed himself for the dictator he is at most every turn. In
Lafayette Park near the White House, more than 2,000 demonstrators protested Jiang’s arrival. The
protestors consisted of democracy activists, Tibetans, Inner Mongolians, Taiwanese, trade union leaders,
activists opposing child labor, and environmentalists, among others. In common was their accusation that
the Beijing government was abusing people’s rights. On their presence Jiang later mused, ironically, “I
have been immersed in the friendly atmosphere of the American people, but occasionally some noises
have reached my ears… I have also noticed that in America different views can be aired… I’ve seen this
firsthand during my visit.”
Jiang regarded the protests as “noise,” signifying that he never so much as looked into the activists’
grievances or cared about what they had to say. Protests against him were something Jiang would never
allow in China, and that’s why he had to come to America to be able to experience “firsthand” the
“different views on him.”
Jiang further revealed his true, autocratic face when he traveled to Boston to address Harvard University.
When asked by a reporter from Newsweek how he would respond to the voices of protest outside the
building, Jiang replied, “Even though I was addressing an audience here, I could still hear the sound from
those loudspeakers outside. All I could do was to try to speak over their voices!” Arrogant as always,
Jiang showed little interest in the voice of the people.
In direct contrast to Jiang’s attitude was a reply given by President Clinton during his visit to Beijing
University in 1998. A student asked Clinton, “When President Jiang Zemin visited Harvard University as
a Chinese guest, he was faced with protests and demonstrations. Today you are a guest yourself. If
demonstrations against you were allowed, how would you feel about that?” Clinton replied, “I would
meet with the demonstrators and hear from them. In fact, I often face protests from people.” Clinton
didn’t need to play games.
From the two questions and their answers one can clearly make out the different mindsets of the two
countries’ people and their top leaders. One bespoke of a totalitarian regime, the other a free society.
6. Hostage Diplomacy
When Jiang returned to China following his trip he made a pleasant gesture to Clinton by releasing
democracy activist Wei Jingsheng.
Wei was arrested in 1979 for posting an article critical of Deng Xiaoping on what was popularly known
as “Democracy Wall” in Beijing. He was later sentenced to 15 years in jail on charges of being a
“counterrevolutionary.” His article, titled “Do We Want Democracy or a New Dictator?” warned of
Deng’s autocratic inclinations. Wei was put on death row for eight months and then jailed in solitary
confinement for nearly five years. He was tortured by jail guards and other prisoners in the trying
facilities of Tangshan Prison and Qinghai Labor Camp. Wei was not released until 1993.
In 1994, Mr. John Shattuk, U.S. Assistant Secretary of State for Democracy, Human Rights and Labor,
visited China. Before he began talks with Chinese authorities, he met with Wei and asked his thoughts on
China’s current state of affairs.
The early release of Wei by Beijing in 1993 was an attempt to boost its bid for the 2000 Olympic Games;
it hoped to project an image of an open and democratic China. But this time, Jiang Zemin seethed with
anger upon Shattuk’s request for a meeting with Wei. Jiang quickly ordered Wei arrested for a second
time, this time giving him a sentence of 14 years. Beijing’s bid for the Olympics eventually failed, falling
one vote short, due to a falling-out with North Korea.
The United States was very regretful as it knew Wei’s arrest was the direct result of its attempted
meeting. It thus felt an obligation to help Wei. In subsequent dealings with Beijing, the U.S. frequently
requested Wei’s release. In 1997 this topic came up again during talks between Clinton and Jiang.
For Jiang, the release of Wei had been but a maneuver meant to please America. The man who loathed
Wei more than anyone else, Deng Xiaoping, had since passed away. Releasing Wei thus shouldn’t have
offended anyone, Jiang figured, and could only, to the contrary, have been seen as a good-will gesture by
Clinton. So it was that a tactical Jiang in November 1997 again decided upon releasing Wei. Having now
spent 18 years in prison, Wei was escorted from his cell directly to a flight for America. Wei began a new
chapter of his life thus, living in exile.
To some extent those in the West were fooled by the maneuver, believing Jiang was a man with an open
mind. The move, and its success, thus came to mark the beginning of what could be called Jiang’s
strategy of “hostage diplomacy”—the charade of tactically abducting and releasing certain figures. In
1998 Wang Dan, a student leader in the 1989 Democracy Movement, was “released on bail for medical
treatment”—as it was claimed—and exiled to the United States.
But hardly did the release of a few high-profile political prisoners change the makeup of Jiang’s prisons.
On the contrary, the number of such detainees kept rising. The list of political prisoners the U.S. wanted
to see released only continued to grow. Beijing’s response, however, was merely to make a few strategic,
token releases whenever it sought something from the international community. Upon getting what it
sought it would arrest only more people, in turn, knowing it could use them as bargaining chips with the
West.
Jiang was the first leader in the CCP’s history to seize with gusto Chinese citizens, turning them into
hostages, for purposes of bargaining with other nations. The CCP and its lackeys like Jiang not only
disallow Chinese people freedom of speech, but also persecute those who would dare to speak out by
sending the dissidents into exile overseas. They never reflect on such practices. Neither do they feel so
much as shame over their actions. Instead, they flaunt the action of exiling dissidents as the CCP’s respect
for “human rights” and showcase it as the “open-mindedness” of a dictator, all fooling and cajoling the
free world. This is a bizarre phenomenon occurring in modern-day China.
7. Qiao Shi’s Retirement
The personnel arrangements for the CCP’s 15th Congress didn’t become any clearer after the return of
Hong Kong. The biggest uncertainty was whether Qiao Shi would retire. The 89-year-old Bo Yibo
listlessly tried to tell Qiao, after being prompted, that a new age limit would be set at the 15th Congress
and the line would be drawn at 70. Qiao would be left with no choice but to retire. Jiang Zemin, however,
would stay on as the “core” of the leadership, though he was 71 years old.
Qiao agreed to retire and step down from all posts—a move that took Jiang, Zeng Qinghong, and the like
by total surprise. Were they themselves in Qiao’s position never would they have agreed to the limit.
Qiao’s retirement paved the way for Jiang’s personnel arrangements at the CCP’s 15th Congress. At the
session new appointments came to comprise 56 percent of the total CCP’s Central Committee; all had
been checked and approved by General Secretary Jiang and his associates.
Another one of Jiang’s fears was the fact that he had never fought in times of war. No matter how many
generals he appointed, with no true experience in the military he could never be as powerful as the
military advisors Deng Xiaoping had arranged for him. Yang Shangkun, Liu Huaqing, and Zhang Zhen
had all fought in times of war. On this matter it was Bo Yibo who came upon an idea. Based on the
principle that the Party directs the military, it seemed inappropriate to have soldiers on the Standing
Committee of the Party’s Politburo. Thus Bo and company set out to change the old rules so as to suit
their needs. Starting from the CCP’s 15th Congress, soldiers were excluded from the Standing Committee
of the Politburo, solving yet another problem for Jiang.
After the death of Deng Xiaoping, Jiang’s behind-the-scene boss and the lifting of many a burden off his
back, Jiang was simply elated. He finally felt that he had become the true “core” of the Party leadership.
Though Qiao Shi retired there were two conditions he attached to the move. First, Wei Jianxing was to
become the secretary of the CCP’s disciplinary committee and secondly, Tian Jiyun would stay on as
Vice Chairman of the People’s Congress. Jiang readily agreed to this. The agreement was a good deal for
him, after all.
Qiao didn’t leave on good terms, however. Before retiring he openly proclaimed that the decision to have
Hu Jintao as the core of the Fourth Generation leadership was a strategic arrangement made by Deng
Xiaoping in conjunction with other revolutionaries of older generations, the Standing Committee of CCP
Politburo, and members of the Politburo. Moreover, a Party resolution was adopted along these lines in
which views and suggestions from persons outside the Party were taken into account.
Qiao Shi, Li Ruihuan, and Wan Li mentioned on different occasions that Deng Xiaoping and the Standing
Committee of the Politburo had agreed that Hu Jintao would be the core of the Fourth Generation
leadership. They made it known that the decision was approved by the Politburo and therefore legitimate.
The purpose of doing so, of course, was to declare to the Party the legitimacy of their arrangement and to
warn that any attempt to override the decision would be illegitimate.
If Jiang attempted to depose of Hu it would thus mean he had betrayed Deng. And Jiang didn’t dare to go
against the will of Deng. So in essence Qiao, Li, and Wan used Deng’s wishes almost as if a time bomb
so as to force Jiang to step down when his time was due. Jiang was apparently annoyed by Qiao’s words
and so prohibited the Party’s secretariat, the Party’s central office and others from circulating Qiao’s
speech via internal documents. Qiao pointed out, as all of this unfolded, that political life within the Party
was not all as usual.
The actions Qiao took before his retirement forced Jiang to carry on amidst what had been set in motion
by Deng. While Jiang had forced Qiao to retire via the 70-year age limit, Qiao in turn proposed a set of
rules regarding “retiring at seventy” that would require Jiang to hand over power to Hu Jintao after
serving one more term.
Five years later it was Jiang’s turn to face the pressure of such rules. The very same trap that a powerhungry Jiang had set for Qiao had now ensnared the General Secretary himself.
____________________
Note:
[1] The term “muhao” is Cantonese for “not good.”
Jiang Zemin knew very well that he had no prestige or qualifications in the military. Most senior military
leaders had fought on the battlefield. And most had solid connections with other military leaders, which
particularly Jiang lacked. Both Mao Zedong and Deng Xiaoping once commanded large military forces
and had earned the respect of China’s servicemen. In contrast, Jiang lacked not only the political
background each had but also their experience in the military. Never had he so much as laid his hands on
a gun.
In most normal modern societies a ruling party can only form a government by means of democratic
elections. The different voices in society serve to monitor the ruling political party’s administrative
authority. Poor management of the government can mean impeachment or removal from office. The
military in these countries belongs to the state and not to any political party. The military’s mission is to
safeguard the people’s interests and defend the country’s borders. Thus, neither conflicts among political
parties nor internal conflict within any one party generally involves the military. Irrespective of which
party’s candidate is elected, the military’s loyalty to the nation and obedience to the command of the
nation’s highest authoritative organization as stipulated by the constitution are imperative. This is one
reason democratic countries can remain politically stable despite having what are at times heated debates
and tensions among parties.
However, China’s military is different from that of nations in the West. In reality, China’s only military is
of the CCP and not of the nation itself. Thus the military serves as a tool of the Party as it seeks to benefit
itself. The Chinese Communist Party has always emphasized that Party branches are to be established at
the level of the company. Going back some time, Mao Zedong postulated the formula that “The Party
commands the gun.” In other words, he who has the upper hand in controlling the military will decidedly
be the victor in any intra-Party political struggle. If military power is not within one’s grasp, one’s
political future lies in the hands of others.
So it was that Jiang Zemin was deeply concerned. But Jiang had his own means to control the military.
1. Promoting Officials to Gain Their Allegiance
Promotion in the military is an important matter. It is granted for meritorious achievements such as labor
on bloody battlefields and protecting citizens’ homes and the welfare of the nation.
During Mao’s time, those who were made marshals and generals had surmounted untold dangers before
achieving their prominent ranks. Promoted individuals would cherish the promotion and feel dignified by
it. Servicemen knew that during peaceful times, times when there were few opportunities to demonstrate
strength, promotion to the rank of General was no easy thing. However, under Jiang’s rule this would
change, as sycophancy quickly became a shortcut to promotion in the military. The promotions of Zhang
Wannian, Guo Boxiong, and You Xigui—each the product of favoritism rather than military
accomplishments—are widely known among the military. The most extreme case is that of Commander
Major-General Guo Boxiong of the 47th military unit. Guo was promoted to Vice Chairman of the
Military Commission for merely standing guard for Jiang during the leader’s afternoon nap.
Since the restoration of the military’s ranking system in 1988, the Central Military Commission (CMC)
has appointed 96 high-ranking officers to the military and police ranks of General. Alongside the 17 highranking officers who were appointed Generals by Deng Xiaoping on Sept. 14, 1988, the other 79 Generals
were appointed by Jiang between 1993 and 2004. As for Major Generals and Lieutenant Generals,
hundreds were made thus in Jiang’s era—almost as if the move was part of a casual game.
On June 7, 1993, Jiang awarded six high-ranking officers the military rank of General. One year later, on
June 8, 1994, Jiang conferred titles to 19 Generals in succession.
On Jan. 23, 1996, in a whimsical moment, Jiang said to those around him, “Today, let’s promote several
people to General for our own enjoyment. What do you think?” Those around him were largely
sycophants, and so their answer was a sure affirmation. Immediately Jiang conferred four persons with
the rank of General. It was that day that Political Commissioner Sui Yongju of the Second Artillery Corps
rose from Lieutenant General to the rank of General.
On Oct. 24, 1997—in one single day—Jiang promoted 152 people to General. Children of former highranking officials and those with family connections were specifically targeted by Jiang for support. For
example, He Long’s son, He Pengfei, was enlisted in the military only after the collapse of the Gang of
Four in 1976. He had served in the military for less than 20 years, yet in just one promotion he became
Vice Admiral Deputy Commander. By as early as 1997 Jiang had conferred 530 persons with the ranks of
General, Lieutenant General, or Major General.
On March 27, 1998, the CMC held a ceremony to promote 10 high-ranking military and police officers to
the rank of General. On Sept. 29, 1999, two were promoted to positions as Generals and on June 21,
2000, the CMC held a ceremony to promote 16 high-ranking military and police officers to the rank of
General.
On June 2, 2002, seven people were promoted to the rank of General. Senior military cadres were said to
be indignant upon witnessing Jiang, during the televised ceremony, using only one hand to present the
certificates of promotion to the recipients. They remarked, “Jiang Zemin doesn’t even know the most
basic protocol. This is not solemn at all.”
On June 20, 2004, just before Jiang stepped down from office, he promoted 15 military and police
officers to the rank of General, among whom was his trusted follower You Xigui.
Many of those conferred so flippantly with rankings and titles didn’t regard the designation as the honor it
was supposed to be. They knew in their hearts that such promotional honors were not dispensed according
to their merits, but rather purely as prize—a prize meant to create allegiance. It for this reason they took
the honors lightly and conducted themselves in a manner anything but serious at the award ceremonies.
The promotion of veteran generals in the past was based on abilities, and recipients enjoyed immense
prestige; their commands were met with uniform obedience. Now, however, officials will use whatever
means possible to gain promotion. They have little respect for one another, they slander one another,
create obstacles for one another’s work, refuse to cooperate, are jealous of each other, and undermine one
another. One might ask: what sort of might could the military achieve with people of such caliber? A
military of this sort won’t manage to win battles no matter how modernized their weapons may be.
2. Leniency on Smuggling and Graft
The military’s entrepreneurial activities started in the mid 1980s. [1] The initial objective was to offset the
military’s expenditures. Senior officials of the CCP were optimistic as to the endeavor’s potential and
commended it for “sustaining the military within the military.” Some senior military figures, such as
Yang Shangkun and Wang Zhen, frequently wrote messages, slogans, or names in their own calligraphy
for the military enterprises in a show of encouragement. After Jiang Zemin became Chairman of the
Military Commission, he took advantage of his authority and loopholes in the military enterprises so as to
gain full control of the military. Jiang gave many undue benefits to soldiers, allowing the military to
wantonly indulge in trading, and fostering corruption within its ranks. Jiang figured that, should these
people become insatiably greedy, what with all their embezzling, they would come to rely on him, and
feel grateful. Contrary to what he expected, however, problems spiraled out of control: never before was
the military so corrupt. Smuggling by the navy on China’s southwestern seaboard became more rampant
than pirating, while smuggling by the army in the north grew worse than that of bandits.
At a meeting on smuggling, Premier Zhu Rongji said that in just the first six months of 1998, guns and
artillery formerly belonging to the military had killed 450 customs staff, police, and other law
enforcement personnel, while injuring another 2,200. The military also used its meteorological
observatory for its own private purposes, forged the Premier’s signature, and stamped documents using
the seal of the Military Commission’s Vice Chairman so as to fraudulently withdraw some 2 billion yuan
(US$230 million). Incredibly, all of these matters were covered up upon being brought to Jiang’s
attention. The problems China faced in the form of pirates, gangs, and corrupt local officials now paled in
comparison to the activities of the military.
On July 26, 1998, the North Sea Fleet of the PLA (People’s Liberation Army) Navy sent four artillery
ships, two submarine chasers, and a 4,000 ton military transport ship to escort four oil tankers that were
smuggling oil from northern Europe. The oil tankers were filled with 70,000 tons of refined oil.
Every coincidence tells a story, of course. The oil tankers crossed the path of 12 counter-smuggling patrol
boats that had been sent by the Ministry of Public Security and China’s Customs General Administration.
The counter-smuggling gunboat shouted to the navy, asking it to cooperate with the inspection. The navy
replied, “You shouldn’t act rashly unless you have orders from the Central Military Commission and the
Naval Headquarters!”
The confrontation came to a standstill for about 15 minutes, during which the Navy, still escorting the
smuggling oil tankers, urgently sought instructions from its land-based leaders. Superiors were afraid to
make the decision, however, so the Naval officers sought instructions from senior military officials in
Beijing. They received a simple and straightforward order, with not an ounce of ambiguity: “Fire at them,
fire till they’re destroyed!”
One of the four artillery ships quickly aimed its cannons at the control vessel of the Customs and Public
Security Ministry and fired several rounds of ammunition. Almost simultaneously, the Navy’s transport
ship and three other artillery ships advanced at full speed towards and rammed into the Customs’s patrol
boats. The battle lasted a full 59 minutes. The confrontation, which took place in the Huanghai Sea,
resulted in 87 deaths and injuries. Despite the casualties no punishment was meted out to anyone
involved.
Ironically, among the unfortunate 13 souls from the Customs and Public Security Ministry that were lost
that day, was one surnamed Deng. He was the fifth generation descendent of Deng Shichang, a national
hero in the Qing Dynasty navy who fought and died in the Naval Battle of 1894—a fight which took
place in the same area of the sea.
On July 13, 1998, at a CCP Central Committee meeting Premier Zhu Rongji confirmed that the United
Front Work Department had smuggled 10,000 cars into China and shared the 2.32 billion yuan (US$267
million) in profit from it with the Political Consultative Conference and Party Leadership Group. The
military is the largest player amongst all contingents involved in smuggling. At the national workshop on
smuggling in September 1998, Zhu said that in recent years the total annual amount smuggled amounted
to 800 billion yuan, of which the military accounted for the majority—at least 500 billion. At the 33
percent tax rate then in place, tax evasion came out to roughly 160 billion. The money was not used to
subsidize the military, but instead, some 80 percent of it went into the pockets of military officials at
various levels.
There was no product that the military would not smuggle. Even narcotics were not excluded. According
to a March 28, 2001, BBC News account, the National Security Adviser of the Philippines, Roilo Golez,
said that the Chinese military personnel were running operations producing illegal drugs in five provinces
of eastern China. These plants supplied US$1.2 billion worth of methamphetamines to the Philippines
every year. Golez expressed a wish that China would cease shipments of narcotics into the Philippines.
He said that if drug smuggling from China could be reduced by 50 percent, the Philippines would solve
half of its narcotics problems. Later the government of the Philippines repeatedly sent representatives to
Beijing to discuss and protest the ongoing drug smuggling and operations by China’s military. A military
led by Jiang Zemin.
Smuggling by the military was simply a shortcut for military officials to get rich. Another shortcut was
profiteering from military enterprises.
One captain at a missile launching camp in the Nanjing Military Region set up the Yixing Chinese
People’s Great Wall Corporation. He obtained a large bank loan by offering liberal shares of his illicit
proceeds. Thus it was that a mere captain was able to embezzle a stunning 300 million yuan. Other
examples abound. The Director of the Administrative Office of the Military Commission, Dong Liangju,
had nine luxurious villas built in national scenic spots around the country, and this, alongside owning 15
luxury cars. The commander of the Guangdong Military Region used funds embezzled from economic
entities to buy six garden villas and four luxury cars. The vice president of the Military Academy of
Sciences imported US$120,000 worth of interior decor materials from Italy. The deputy commander of
the Second Artillery Corps arranged for his family to shop in Europe and America, to the tune of
US$250,000. When seven military officials from the Guangdong Military Region moved residences, they
spent US$1.2 million merely on bathroom renovations; on average each household spent US$180,000 on
sanitary equipment imported from Italy.
In November 1998, the Minister of Defense and Vice Chairman of China’s CMC, Chi Haotian, said at a
Military Commission and Military Discipline Inspection Commission meeting in Xishan, Beijing, that
“Since 1994, 80 percent of the assets and profits generated by the military’s economic entities have been
embezzled and divided amongst senior and middle-level officials. Every year senior and middle-level
officials have spent 50 percent of the entire expenses of the military on food and drinks, overseas tours,
luxury homes, and luxury cars.”
In 1998, the military spent a total of 131 billion yuan in budgeted and unbudgeted expenses, making that
50 percent figure around 65.5 billion in illicit expenditures. Moreover, the public funds embezzled from
military-operated economic entities amounted to 186.4 billion. In other words, the total amount
squandered by military officials was, shockingly, two times the military’s 1998 budget of 94 billion. By
the end of March 1999, the Military Procuratorate had recorded 2,170 major cases of corruption,
diversion of public funds, and public funds absconded to overseas. That year alone 24 Major Generals or
senior officials fled overseas, bringing with them enormous amounts of embezzled public funds.
Under the leadership of CMC Chairman Jiang Zemin, generals of all levels busied themselves jockeying
for promotions and laundering money.
Zhu Rongji noticed that the military’s business operations were disrupting the normal economic order of
things. In 1996 he thus proposed that the military cease its entrepreneurial activities, only to find that his
proposal garnered no support. The problem then worsened. In 1998 Zhu felt that the problem should
continue no further, and thus, once again, brought up the matter with Jiang, asking in strong terms that the
military’s business activities be ceased.
Finally, in July 1998, in the “National Counter-¬Smuggling Working Conference,” Jiang announced that
the military, paramilitary police, and judicial and public security systems were no longer allowed to
engage in entrepreneurial operations. The systems were to disengage themselves by the end of December
1998, transferring all such operations to local governments in China.
Although Jiang was taking a different stance than he initially had—no longer allowing the military to
engage in business activities—his motive was the same as it always was. In his book The Man Who
Changed China, Robert Kuhn makes much fanfare of Jiang’s banning of the military’s entrepreneurial
activities, making it out to be something of a great accomplishment. But in so doing Kuhn turns the truth
inside out.
Jiang’s initial motive for allowing the military involvement in business activities was to foster a corrupt
environment in which he could more easily build a following and wantonly confer military titles. He
needed a military that didn’t emphasize formal training or the strengthening of military prowess. And it
was the resultant mess—a corrupt military—that gave the inexperienced CMC Chairman fertile soil for
fostering his own faction.
With time Jiang grew afraid, however, that the military’s business operations would make it more
independent—something detrimental to Jiang’s exertion of control over it. Thus he wished to sever its
sources of income so that the military would have no choice but to depend on him for the allocation of
funds and would have to then, in turn, obey his orders. Banning the military’s business activities was a
way out for Jiang. And what’s more, it was a prime chance to boost his authority in the military. Jiang had
become confident by that point, having nurtured his faction in the military for years. Jiang held in his
hands all the top political positions, what with Yang Shangkun and Yang Baibing having fallen and Deng
Xiaoping having passed away. Thus Jiang, at the insistence of Zhu Rongji, finally made his decision to
put a stop to the military’s business activities. The move came only after careful deliberation over
whether it would benefit or harm Jiang personally.
Just to play it safe, however, Jiang resorted to his usual tactics. He asked Hu Jintao, who was fifth in rank
in the Standing Committee of the Politburo, to handle the thorny issue; this allowed Jiang to hide out
behind the scenes. At the time Hu was neither a vice chairman nor a committee member of the Military
Commission, nor a vice-premier. He was responsible only for CCP affairs. Hu thus had to brace himself
and snatch profits from the military’s jaws. Jiang had always regarded Hu as a thorn in his side, as Hu
was personally appointed by Deng as Jiang’s successor. For this reason Jiang would ask Hu to act on his
behalf whenever difficult issues arose. In name, he was providing Hu with “training opportunities.” In
reality, had the military reacted with radical means or chosen to obstruct things, the arrangement meant
that Jiang would not be held directly responsible. Hu would be the scapegoat. And along with that Jiang
could potentially strip Hu of his “successor” title. The tactic was used by Jiang several times, in fact. Hu,
who is by nature discreet, was fortunate not to encounter any mishaps in the years before he assumed
office.
Among the 20,000 military enterprises then existing, by the end of 1998 less than 5,000 had completed or
nearly completed the transfer of business activities to local governments. As the military enterprises were
independent enterprises with independent accounting units and many special privileges, they had no
involvement with local industry or commerce and revenue departments. The recording of assets,
distribution, and profit was terribly disorderly. Even when local governments wanted to check the
accounting practices of such entities, the task was daunting: whenever the military’s vested interests were
involved, military officials would create problems and obstacles, or feign compliance, making it
extremely hard to audit their accounts. Furthermore, excessive probing could be labeled “meddling with
military secrets.” The local government could only conduct the verification in a perfunctory manner, as
too much investigation would benefit no one. Ultimately the effort to disengage the military from
commercial activities was abandoned.
3. The Uneven Division of Illegal Funds Brings Bloodshed
Between Feb. 2–22, 1999, the CCP issued three consecutive, urgent decrees to the military.
On Feb. 2, the State Council and the CMC issued an urgent notice, titled “Halt Harmful Fighting Over the
Military’s Capital and Assets.” Six days later the General Staff Department, General Political
Department, General Logistics Department, and General Armament Department issued a subsequent
order: “Be Resolute in Investigating and Handling Illegal Activities, Including Contending for, Sharing,
or Transferring Capital and Assets Within Military Enterprises.” Then on Feb. 22, the State Council and
CMC issued yet another urgent notice: “Immediately Stop Contention Over Capital and Assets in the
Businesses; Severely Punish According to Law Anyone Using Weapons to Contend for Capital and
Property.”
In 1998, after the military, paramilitary police, and public security bureaus were in principle disengaged
from business operations, the property held by those economic entities was divided up within the military.
The greed of the military and paramilitary police had by then already been roused, and so they frequently
resorted to violence to resolve disputes over the sharing of liquidated property. Frequently, lifethreatening violence erupted. Those involved employed guns, artillery, and even armored vehicles as they
fought one another.
Jiang Zemin ruled the military with corruption; the high-ranking military officials that he roped in were
certainly not promoted on the basis of their abilities. What a frightening prospect, then, to think that
weapons were being placed in the hands of those morally-degenerate people. The following are several
small examples that suggest the severity of the problem.
The Deputy Political Commissar of the Guangdong Military Region and the Deputy Political Commissar
of South China Naval Fleet led their subordinates to a bar to divide the illicit property they had acquired.
The Zhuhai Garrison Command staff were the facilitators. A small disagreement came about, with the
result that officials from both parties struck one another’s heads with beer bottles. Several sustained skull
fractures while others oozed blood. The Guangdong Military Region Logistic Headquarters department
head, named Tang, and the director of the Zhanjiang Naval Base Political Department, named Xiao, both
died from excessive blood loss and the injuries to their heads.
Major general Cui Guodong, Deputy Military Commander of the 13th Army Corps, flew to Xichang City
on Nov. 28, 1998, to demand 20 million yuan from the Deputy Director of the Xichang Military SubRegion Logistic Headquarters, a man named Song. The two quarreled, with Song being the quicker and
more skilled of the two at drawing a gun. Within moments Cui and a security guard, Jiang Guomin, lay
on the ground, dead, from Song’s bullet fire. The matter alarmed the chief of the CMC General Staff, Fu
Quanyou, General Political Department deputy director Wang Ruilin, and Military Discipline Inspection
Commission secretary, Zhou Ziyu. They immediately flew to Xichang.
Another symptomatic incident was the major explosion that occurred at the 656 Airbase Radar Station in
Xianning City, Hubei Province, where more than 1,000 officers and soldiers and 10-plus helicopters
joined together to fight the ensuing fire. More than 120 people were killed or injured. The economic
losses were immeasurable. The whole affair owed to an official at the logistics department of the
Chuxiong Missile Base (in Yunnan Province) being punished for embezzling money that his supervisor
had wished to snare for himself. The official was bitter over the punishment he received. On Sunday,
April 5, 1998, when no one was in the camp, he set the storage room on fire in retaliation. The fire, which
was set in the early morning, blazed until 2 p.m. in the afternoon.
And so it came to be that under the leadership and direction of CMC Chairman Jiang Zemin officers of
the “People’s Military” died not on the battlefield or defending their country, but instead in the throes of
internal warfare over illegally-acquired wealth. Incidents such as those described here have occurred in
nearly all of China’s provinces and regions. Narrating all of their details is impossible, of course. Here we
will cite a few more representative cases to illustrate the extent of the problem.
In Eastern China’s Anhui Provincial Military Region, the Hefei City Garrison Command and the Anhui
Province Paramilitary Police Unit were under the domain of the East China Military Region. The three
parties formed a partnership for business purposes. Prior to 1998, when the group had to transfer the
business to the local government, the provincial military region had handled its finances. Before the time
of its handover, the head of the Anhui Provincial Military Region had embezzled 75 percent of the
enterprise’s property and offered only the remaining 25 percent to the other two parties. Those who
refused the offer had to face the barrel of a gun. The three parties scuffled at an assembly hall of the
Anhui Provincial Military Region, resulting in the death or injury of over 30 military officers.
In northwestern China the Lanzhou City Military Region and the Gansu Provincial Military Region
jointly operated a business. On Jan. 15, 1999, on the eve of the handover of the enterprise to local
government, the head of the Lanzhou Military Region sent the military to the Provincial Military Region
to snatch more than 30 brand-new cars. Almost at the same time, the Provincial Military Region sent out
several military vehicles and trucks to the 075 Warehouse in the Lanzhou Military Region, intending to
snatch steel. The two parties encountered each other on a narrow road. Without exchanging a word they
opened fire on one another, resulting in 72 casualties; 12 military officers were among those who died.
In the southwest, the Zunyi Garrisons and the Guizhou Provincial Military Region started a gunfight in
the garrison building over who would land 2.6 million yuan in graft. More than 90 persons perished,
among whom were 52 officers and soldiers.
In the northeast, the Jinxi Garrisons in Liaoning Province and Second Artillery Corps jointly operated a
business. Prior to the reassignment of the business, the Jinxi Garrisons had embezzled some half a million
yuan. The Second Artillery Corps sent its entire staff to surround the garrison building, which they did for
over 70 hours. Fortunately missiles couldn’t be fired in such close combat. The commander of Shenyang
Military Region and the commander of the Second Artillery Corps were so disturbed upon receiving word
of the incident that they rushed to the scene via helicopter.
At 11 p.m. on Sept. 7, 1997, a fight broke out among the Shenyang Garrison Command, the 116th
Division of the 39th Armed Corps, and paramilitary police of Liaoning Province over how to divide up
some 120 million yuan in profits. The scuffle involved 350 military servicemen, 37 military vehicles, and
two armored vehicles. The 116th Division dispatched 250 officers and soldiers. The Deputy Regiment
Commander, surnamed Jiang, of the Mechanized Troop lost his life upon the first gunshot. The
paramilitary police’s weapons proved inferior, and more than 40 people were killed or injured.
In Western China, at noon on Nov. 22, 1997, the military headquarters of the 28th Armed Corps in
Xiping (a suburb of Datong, in Shanxi Province) were bombed due to an internal strife. A building on the
east side was destroyed, and 63 servicemen died. Among them were a CCP Committee Office director
and a Senior Colonel, named Gong.
China Air Force Hangars Center, the biggest of its kind in Asia and second in the world, is located in
Sheqi, outside of Anyang City in Henan Province of central China. Construction of the Center began in
August 1990 and was completed in December 1994, costing 80 billion yuan. The center has 22-level
airplane hangars and can store 350 airplanes. The ground aircraft parking area can store 160 fighter
planes, attack planes, and bombers. At 11 p.m. on Aug. 3, 1996, in the Seventh Duty Office at the
southwest part of the Center, two officers quarreled over the uneven division of illegally obtained funds;
the money came from business deals made in collaboration with another military unit outside the Center.
The heated exchange ended up in the use of firearms, which set off an explosion that ignited a fire. The
fire further ignited, in turn, a larger explosion still and more fire, setting off a chain reaction of explosions
and fire. This went on for some eight hours, ceasing only the next morning. At 7:20 in the morning Air
Force Commander Yu Zhenwu and the Chief of the General Staff, Fu Quanyou, rushed to the scene.
What they discovered was devastation. Eighty-one airplanes had been destroyed in the explosions, and 90
servicemen were injured or killed. Direct economic losses were put at 1.1 billion yuan. The incident cost
China one sixtieth of its entire 5,000 aircraft fleet.
Official reports state that the military’s performance in training with and technical testing of live
ammunition has been on the decline and failed to meet the standards of the CMC. Violation of laws and
discipline remains high. There continues to be a stream of incidents such as desertions and the firing of
weapons where prohibited.
More disturbing still is that although military expenditures for all major military regions and army groups
have continued to increase, expenditures have not been put toward actively conducting training and
technical combat exercises but instead toward the vigorous promotion of a large-scale weight loss
campaign for military officers and cadres. The activities were divided into three levels: the company and
battalion; the regiment and division; and the armed forces. Those who managed to lose five kilograms
would be rewarded 1,000 to 2,000 yuan; seven and a half kilograms of weight reduction met with a
reward of 2,000 to 5,000 yuan; and a 10 kilogram reduction would be rewarded with 5,000 to 10,000
yuan.
With Jiang Zemin employing methods such as these to manage the military, what chances has the military
to succeed in real combat should the need arise?
4. Wanton Indulgence in Sensual Pleasures
On Sept. 24, 2004, the Liberation Army Daily published an article, titled “An Overview of Jiang Zemin’s
15-Year Leadership in National Defense and Building the Military.” The superficiality of the article,
however, pointed to but one issue. Quoting from the article: “[We] must highly value the military’s
political ideology; we must give it the highest priority in the building of the military.” Or, as put
elsewhere in the article: “[The military’s] ideology should be firmly consistent with the political ideals of
the Central CCP.” Since the Central CCP has to “take comrade Jiang Zemin as the core,” the so-called
“military ideology” in reality means absolute obedience to Jiang. As long as the military was politically
reliable, everything else would be easy for Jiang.
Under Jiang’s guidance, the military involved itself in the sex industry to an extent never seen before. The
General Staff Department, General Logistics Department, and General Political Department of the PLA
found themselves wrapped up in the pleasures of sex and sensual indulgence. Evidently, the debauchery
and degradation characterizing society at large similarly eroded the “Great Iron Wall”—a CCP term for
its military. For example, as of 1995 15 “recreational venues” were being run by agencies under the
control of the Third Division of the General Staff Department, employing 476 escort hostesses.
The military had many different grades of clubs, guesthouses, hotels, and holiday resorts, all of which
competed to provide high-ranking officials with erotic pleasures.
On Nov. 1, 2001, the State Council and CMC issued an urgent notice banning night clubs run by the
police and military. A working group was set up to oversee the process. Zhu Rongji was appointed the
group leader, with Chi Haotian, Luo Gan, Fu Quanyou, Zhou Ziyu, and Yu Yongbo being appointed
deputy group leaders.
On Nov. 2, the Ministry of Defense and the General Staff Department of the PLA similarly issued a
notice, titled “Strictly Execute Orders of the Central CCP and Reorganize Night Clubs, Guesthouses, and
Holiday Resorts.” The establishments affected by the ban, or reorganization, were mainly built in the
1990s after Jiang became Chairman of the CMC. The construction of such establishments reached a peak
under Jiang as early as 1997.
These debauched, pleasure-proffering outlets were divided into three classes: top grade; high grade; and
second-high grade. There were some eight “top-grade” outlets and over 30 “high-grade” ones in the
country. In the top-grade clubs, guesthouses, and holiday resorts, customers were provided with aroundthe-clock, year-round service. The high-grade and second-high-grade outlets were entertaining at full
capacity every day of the year. A variety of services were provided to patrons depending on their ranks.
Those holding honorary club cards, which meant lifetime membership, needed only to sign their names;
expenses incurred for food, drinks, and other pleasures were on the house.
Top-grade and high-grade establishments were equipped with clinics with highly qualified military
doctors, emergency medical units, and ambulances. Top-grade clubs even operated Z-9 helicopters for
emergencies. The interior design and decoration of these venues were luxurious and exquisite. The
service attendants, assistant managers, and nursing attendants were all unmarried young women. Those
selected had to go through “political screening”—as it was called—and were picked specially from the
Police and Military Cultural Work Group, the Police and Military Health School, and government
agencies in medium-sized or small cities. Those selected had to go through training in culture, literary
arts, etiquette, and public relations.
The Central CCP was compelled to ban these military and police clubs following the resolution to “rectify
the character” of the Party, a measure adopted at the 6th CCP Plenary Conference. The move was
strategic as much as value-driven, as all along there had been strong objection to the establishments from
other CCP members and military staff. Even though security was tight at these places, word leaked out
about their operations. And things were more complicated still in that military personnel from other areas
were following in the footsteps of their superiors by establishing clubs of their own on military bases.
Most any official on vacation or celebrating holidays most anywhere could thus enjoy lustful pleasures.
The degenerate practice was seriously affecting, for the worse, military morale. Young women were
committing suicide after being raped or seduced at the night clubs, guesthouses, and holiday resorts.
Many senior generals, such as Hong Xuezhi, Xiao Ke, Liao Hansheng, Yang Chengwu, and Yang
Baibing, had expressed strong disapproval of the establishments, saying that Jiang Zemin had “destroyed
the Great Wall in his own hands.” But by then Jiang had already, via a combination of tactics, stripped
those generals who opposed him of their power.
5. Using Forced Retirements and Money to Silence “Noise”
Some senior military chiefs who had great prestige and wielded solid power were extremely dissatisfied
with Jiang’s corrupt management of the military. Their subordinates in kind disdained Jiang. Jiang, for his
part, regarded them as a thorn in his side, yet he feared they would join forces and oppose him. Not daring
to use hard-line tactics, he used “soft” approaches to handle them.
Jiang’s plan was to give the generals a promotion before asking them to retire and surrender their military
power. Jiang would then bring in his own clique and take over things. In order to consolidate his position
in the military, Jiang would, batch by batch, promote those officials who pledged loyalty to him. By this
means he instituted a major “blood change” in the military.
In July 2001, Jiang ordered the Central CCP and the State Council to issue special subsidies of three
different scales (500,000 yuan, 300,000 yuan and 200,000 yuan) to 332 widows of deceased senior CCP
statesmen and generals. The subsidies were intended to silence any objections the widows might voice.
By mid-August, Yu Ruomu (Chen Yun’s widow), Liu Ying (Zhang Wentian’s widow), Lin Yueqin (Luo
Ronghuan’s widow), Li Zhao (Hu Yaobang’s widow), Wang Guangmei (Liu Shaoqi’s widow), and about
50 other widows of senior statesmen and generals returned in full the special subsidy they had received.
They requested that the money be donated anonymously to impoverished students in northwestern China
who were admitted to college but who couldn’t afford college tuition. The remaining 270 widows
accepted the special subsidy. After that Jiang seemed to be more at peace.
By the eve of the Chinese New Year in 2002, the Central Organizational Ministry, headed by Zeng
Qinghong, had raised a considerable sum of money—between 17 million and 25 million yuan. The funds
came from confidential sources. The sum of money was distributed under the pretense that Jiang, in his
capacity as Chairman, cared and concerned for veteran cadres. It was extended selectively to those who
could potentially affect voting in the forthcoming 16th CCP National Congress. The money was not
widely distributed, for who received it and how much were decided by Jiang and Zeng in advance.
High-level secretaries have disclosed that those who received the money were those holding important
positions, wielding wide influence, or who had much power and had frequently objected to and hindered
Jiang and Zeng.
6. Murdering Yang Shangkun by Plot
After Yang Shangkun was forced to step down, Jiang Zemin was still very much afraid of him. Zeng
Qinghong expressed his view that if Yang were not done away with he could, eventually, cause trouble.
But it would be risky for Jiang and Zeng to take action against Yang while Deng Xiaoping was still alive.
When Deng passed away in February 1997, 92-year-old Yang Shangkun was still in good health. He had
long been displeased with Jiang’s arbitrary promotion of generals, bribing people for support, and attacks
on those who disagreed with him. Yang would often rebuke Jiang at gatherings of senior cadres. One day
in the latter half of 1998, during a large gathering of senior military cadres not attended by Jiang, Yang
again criticized Jiang. He said that if Jiang, as Chairman of the CMC, were to continue on as he was, the
military would be ruined. Zeng’s informants had by that time infiltrated everywhere. Yang’s words thus
quickly reached the ears of Jiang.
Jiang knew that although the brothers Yang Shangkun and Yang Baibing were already stripped of their
military power at the 14th National Congress of the CCP, their influence in the military was still
potentially strong. Jiang also knew that he had incurred the dissatisfaction and hatred of many people with
his disparaging attacks on Zhao Ziyang and Yang Shangkun. The attacks had resulted in their downfall,
and thereby effected the transfer of power in the CCP, the government, and the military to himself. If
Yang Shangkun, who held the positions of First Vice-Chairman of the Military Commission and
Chairman of the Nation, were to gather forces to suppress Jiang, little could Jiang have warded him off.
Though Jiang often had Bo Yibo, another Party elder, giving him advice, he had, after all, no military
background or power. Moreover, Bo, who attacked Hu Yaobang hard when Hu was down, still was
reviled by many people.
After deliberate planning, Jiang decided to seize upon an opportunity to get rid of Yang and preclude
future trouble. While Jiang’s plot might have been very careful, his conspiracy nevertheless gave him
away in the end. On Aug. 3, 2003, the state-run Xinhua News Agency released a strange piece of “news.”
It reported that mid-winter in 1996 Jiang Zemin—who was the General Secretary of the CCP, the
country’s Chairman, and Chairman of the CMC—hosted a small, special meeting in Qinzheng Hall of the
central government complex at Zhongnanhai. The main topic of the meeting was how to improve the
temperature and humidity in the south wing of the PLA General Hospital, also known as the “301
Hospital.” Jiang said that the temperature and humidity problem was major, for many of the nation’s
founding fathers, who had dedicated their lives to the military, were now staying in the hospital. It was
imperative to have “concern” and “take good care” of them.
Why did Jiang regard improving the PLA General Hospital as a “serious problem”? Jiang and Zeng had
realized that the hospital would serve them wonderfully well in an attack on other military factions. The
majority of the Party and military elders frowned upon the corrupt and incompetent “clown” Jiang. They
relied on their credentials and dared to disrespect Jiang. During many high-level, internal meetings of the
CCP, these military elders would criticize, reprimand, and even attack Jiang. Jiang could do little about it.
All the same, Jiang and Zeng knew one thing: human beings naturally come to have ailments as they age.
It was upon this realization that they thought of the hospital. For one, they could use improvements to the
hospital to play favor with the military elders, claiming to take care of them. And secondly, the lives of
these people would be in Jiang’s hands, and at critical times his control would take effect.
Indeed, Jiang’s special “concern” for the PLA General Hospital finally came to serve an important
function.
When Yang Shangkun caught a cold in autumn of 1998 he was taken to the PLA General Hospital, which
was by then under Jiang and Zeng’s control. Shortly after Yang Shangkun was hospitalized, at 1:17 a.m.
on Sept. 14, 1998, he was pronounced dead. As the saying goes, “Eventually, the truth will win out.” Not
long after Yang’s death it was rumored widely by the general public that Yang had in fact been murdered.
Yang’s family members in time asked that the Party Central investigate the cause of death.
* * *
Sun Zi’s The Art of War says that if the commander-in-chief of an army is incompetent yet eager to show
off, greedy for power, greedy for wealth, fearful, unable to keep his word, cruel, or selfish, then his army
will meet with failure. Jiang Zemin, the Chairman of China’s Military Commission, upon a close look is
found to have all of these traits. As such it should come as little surprise the armed forces under Jiang
were rife with corruption and weak. Could such a military guard its homeland and protect its nation from
foreign aggression? How unfortunate this is, indeed, for China as a nation.
____________________
Note:
[1] The Chinese military controlled 15,000 to 20,000 mostly small and medium-sized businesses in this period, ranging from
garment factories to toy factories, transport companies, and hotels. There are said to be upwards of 2,000 such PLA (People’s
Liberation Army) businesses (many under aliases) in the U.S. at present. The largest among them—such as the China Poly Group,
Xinxing Group, and Carrie Enterprises—are international corporations with offices around the world. See details in Seth Faison,
“China Moving to Untie Its Military-Industrial Knot.” The New York Times, July 28, 1998.
1. An Otherwise Small-Scale Flood Triggers a Huge Disaster
In 1998 the Yangtze River region suffered a most disastrous flood.
Although the CCP’s media unequivocally referred to this as an “extraordinarily enormous”—the type
seen only once in a century, many hydrologists believed that this flood itself was not “extraordinarily
enormous.” Rather, the most important criterion for measuring the magnitude of a flood is peak flow or
discharge. According to information collected by the Yichang Hydrological Station along the Yangtze
River, the peak flow of the 1998 flood occurred on Aug. 16, when it reached 63,600 cubic meters per
second. This time peak flow was slightly higher than 60,300 cubic meters per second (a rate seen at the
Yichang station once every five years or so), but far less than 72,300 cubic meters per second (a rate
observed at the Yichang station only once every 20 years or so). Going on these numbers, experts
considered the 1998 flood to be small in scale.
But surprisingly, the high water levels that year caused severe economic damage and loss of lives. After
the disaster, which lasted over two months, the government’s internal statistics indicated that nearly 400
million people were affected, nearly 5,000 perished, and direct economic losses were over 300 billion
yuan (US$36 billion).
In China, debate about the cause of the flood centered on the question of whether it was the result of
nature or man-made. Many experts have come to believe that although there was a natural component to
the disaster, most of the resultant damage was the product of human error. What to this day few people
realize is that the losses from the disaster would have been much less severe had Jiang Zemin not decided
to adamantly guard a levee that was involved and refuse to divert the flood.
2. Adamantly Guarding the Levee, Protecting Jiang’s “Dragon Vein”
On Aug. 6, 1998, the fourth flood peak of the Yangtze River’s upper region was approaching Yichang in
Hubei Province. Hubei’s provincial CCP Secretary, Jiang Zhijie, and Governor Jiang Zhuping jointly
submitted a request to open the Jinjiang floodway to divert the water. At noon the water level at Changsha
reached 44.68 meters, exceeding the maximal water level (44.67 meters) of the previous major flood that
occurred in 1954. Residents living in the floodway started moving to safe areas. Within 16 hours some
330,000 residents and 18,000 cows living in the floodway had been evacuated, but the order to use the
Jinjiang floodway to divert the water never came.
The Yangtze River flood prevention plan adopted by the State Council states that once the water levels in
Changsha reach 44.67 meters, the floodgate in Jinjiang needs to be opened so that waters may be diverted
to the floodway. On Aug. 12 and 16, residents in the Jinjiang floodway moved twice to prepare for the
water diversion. The floodgate, however, still did not open.
At 9 a.m. on Aug. 17, the flood level was at 45.22 meters—0.55 meter higher than the previous record set
in 1954.
A day earlier on Aug. 16 at 10:30 p.m., Wen Jiabao listened to reports by meteorologists and hydrologists
in Changsha and weighed whether to divert the flood. However, four hours earlier (6:20 p.m.) Jiang
Zemin had issued an order that nearby military troops must all work on the levee. He commanded, “The
troops stand united with the people, guarding the levee in this decisive battle—even at the cost of death—
seeking a full victory.” Thus the flood diversion plan was not implemented.
Actually, Jiang had also instructed the central government to handle this “extraordinary flood” by
following a policy of “sternly preventing the flood and guarding key levees along the Yangtze River even
at the cost of death.” At midnight on July 21, Jiang called Vice Premier Wen Jiabao, telling him that “the
provinces along the Yangtze River must fully prepare for the peak flood, sternly prevent the flood, and
guard the levee even at the price of death.” When the third peak was passing Wuhan and three nearby
towns on July 28, the Xinhua New Agency reported that Jiang “was deeply concerned.” He told Wen on
the phone, “The levee must be guarded as long as we’re still alive.” When Jiang inspected the flood
conditions on Aug. 14 in Hubei Province, he again instructed, “Firmly and sternly prevent the flood and
guard the levee, even at the cost of death, protecting the levees along the Yangtze River.”
The slogan “sternly prevent the flood and guard the levee even at the cost of death” was quickly spread
and barked out. As the situation changed, however, with the flood growing ever higher and more fierce,
and with the local government suggesting many times to the central government that the Jinjiang area
floodway be used to divert the water, the proposals were not approved by Jiang.
The use of floodways to mitigate flood damage is very common in developed Western countries. Using
floodways in a planned manner results in the least social, economic, and ecological damage. The cost of
flood prevention is also the lowest.
The Jinjiang Floodway Project was completed in 1952. During the big flood of 1954, the Jinjiang
Floodway was used three times, with the peak flood level being reduced by 0.96 meters. Experts
speculated that if Jinjiang and a few other floodways had been used to divert the flood in 1998, the results
could have been similar to those in 1954, lowering the peak flood in Changsha from 45.22 meters to
44.26 meters on Aug. 17. If that were the case, things would not have been so dire along the Yangtze
River near Jinjiang.
The public couldn’t understand why Jiang Zemin refused to approve the experts’ proposals and so
staunchly opposed diverting the water into the Jinjiang Floodway. It was said later that the decision might
have stemmed from Jiang’s having believed a fortune-teller who was popular among top officials in
China; the fortune teller spoke of the intricacies of “protecting the vein of the dragon.” Jiang apparently
believed that if the flood were diverted into the Jinjiang Floodway by opening the floodgate, it would be
the same as cutting off the “dragon’s veins.” Jiang was born in 1926, a year of the Tiger, and 1998 was
the first year of the Tiger since Jiang had come to power nearly 10 years earlier. Jiang took the matter
seriously, and decided to guard the levee at the cost of death. It was thus that he refused to proactively
open the floodgate and divert the swelling waters.
Even though the CCP is atheist in name, many high-ranking Party officials deeply believe in fortunetelling and fengshui. [1] The story of how Mao Zedong named his personal bureau of guards the “8341
troops” is a typical example. Before Mao entered Beijing, an aged Taoist monk told Mao four numbers:
8341. Mao didn’t understand it, but he still used 8341 to name his entourage. After Mao’s death it became
clear that the number meant that Mao would live until age 83, and that he would be, from the Zunyi
Conference in 1935 until his death in 1976, the most powerful man in China—a span of 41 years.
Among the top leadership of the CCP it is well known that Jiang is an avid believer of fengshui and
fortune-telling. After the Tiananmen Square student movement was brutally suppressed in 1989, Jiang
hoped to use fengshui to extend his rule. He did three things in Beijing to this effect. The first was to add
water to Baiyangdian Lake. Beijing was the capital city of six dynasties and is surrounded by mountains
to the east, north, and west, and by water to the south. It was considered a location with
exceptional fengshui, one that “holds the mountains and carries the river.” But the CCP’s rule brought
about an environmental crisis that dried up Baiyangdian Lake. Jiang told the public that by adding water
to Baiyangdian he was “restoring a pearl of northern China.” His real goal, however, was to restore
Beijing’s fengshui so that his rule could last longer. The second thing he did was to increase the height of
the flagpole on Tiananmen Tower. Because Mao Zedong Mausoleum is right on Tiananmen Square, with
Mao’s body contained therein, the structure blighted the fengshui of the Forbidden City. Furthermore, the
height of the flagpole was lower than the top of the Mausoleum, which caused “too much yin energy,”
according to one fengshui master. Jiang told the public that he was “bringing glory to the country and
furthering patriotic thoughts” when he increased the height of the flagpole, which became much higher
than the mausoleum after the change. The third thing was to remove the dirt hill present at the Temple of
Heaven. The dirt was from caves and tunnels that were dug to store food during the Mao era. It was piled
west of Chaotianshen Road at the Temple of Heaven, and reached even higher than the main hall of the
Temple, Qinian Hall. Jiang ordered the removal of the dirt hill and planted cypresses at the site, all as
instructed by the fengshui master.
Jiang is cautious about not running into “bad luck.” Although he often travels afar, Jiang has never visited
the city of Zhenjiang—the name of which, in Chinese, means literally “to suppress Jiang”—as he is afraid
of being suppressed and that his luck will be ruined. He is also very sensitive to the auspiciousness of the
speech of those under him. Whoever say anything that Jiang rules to be taboo will meet with punishment.
Even provincial-level officials have been replaced for such minor things.
When Wang Maolin was Hunan Provincial CCP Secretary, he went to the airport to enthusiastically
welcome Jiang upon the Chairman’s visit to Hunan. Wang planned to extend the very best for Jiang’s
visit, and arranged everything ahead of time. But in a moment of excitement Wang told Jiang, “We
follow you when we’re in Beijing, but here in Hunan you can count on me.” To the average Chinese
person, this is a clear expression of the host’s eagerness to please. But Jiang, whose thinking was by then
fully that of a dictator, wasn’t able to see the matter in a normal light as others would. When he heard,
“here in Hunan you can count on me,” he thought Wang was hinting at trying to seize his power and grew
extremely displeased. Not long after the incident, Jiang reassigned Wang to act as the deputy director of
the Spiritual Civilization Leadership Team in Beijing—a position lacking any real power.
Wang knew that what he said had touched a sore spot in Jiang, and thereafter tried to show Jiang his
loyalty at every opportunity. Eventually Jiang did give Wang a position with power: director of the 610
Office—an extrajudicial agency in charge of persecuting Falun Gong. Wang was sued in late 2004 by
Falun Gong practitioners outside of China and is now on the list of those monitored by the World
Organization to Investigate the Persecution of Falun Gong.
Jiang also likes names with auspicious meanings. People such as Teng Wensheng (“born a scholar”), Jia
Ting’an (“peaceful government”), You Xigui (“lucky and prosperous”) and Wang Huning (“peace in
Shanghai”) were promoted because of their names. Li Changchun was one of Jiang’s favorites because
his name meant “forever spring.”
So it was that Jiang insisted on protecting the “vein of the dragon” during the 1998 flood and refused to
utilize the Jinjiang Floodway. Premier Zhu Rongji and Vice Premier Wen Jiabao followed Jiang’s order
with great reluctance, telling the public that diversion could result in still further economic losses. But in
reality, residents living in the Jinjiang Floodway were moved to safe areas three times in preparation for
the diversion and everything was ready. All people were waiting for was the order from higher up.
On Jiang’s scale of values, the lives of the millions of residents in the flood disaster areas weighed far less
than his “vein of the dragon.”
3. Using the Opportunity to Dispatch Troops, Solidifying Control of the Military
Another reason that Jiang refused to implement the flood diversion plan was that he wanted to use the
opportunity to dispatch troops, thereby solidifying his control of the military.
Although Jiang was the Chairman of the Central Military Commission (CMC), he had never touched a
gun in his life and lacked the credentials of senior generals who had fought in many battles. Without
establishing his credibility with the military, Jiang wasn’t sure the military would follow his orders at
critical times. Jiang’s wish for absolute control over the military only grew with the death of Deng
Xiaoping. Jiang needed a legitimate reason to dispatch and employ a large number of troops in times of
peace. If done without a good reason, the deployment could cause uneasiness and protests from
surrounding countries, or even breed international conflicts. Thus, that summer in 1998 when the Yangtze
was threatened with flooding at almost every stretch, Jiang saw an opportunity.
On Aug. 7, 1998, the main levee at Jiujiang along the Yangtze River broke. The same evening Jiang
called an extended meeting of the Standing Committee of the Politburo. At the meeting the Politburo
passed the “Central CCP’s Resolution on Disaster Relief along the Yangtze River,” urgently dispatching
the PLA and paramilitary forces to the frontline of the flood. Fu Quanyou, director of the General Staff
Department, followed up by commanding that all troops required to participate in relief efforts must carry
out orders unconditionally and head for the front lines within two hours of receiving such orders.
During this military flood relief operation, Jiang dispatched troops from the Guangzhou, Jinan, Nanjing,
Beijing and Shenyang Military Regions, utilizing the air force, the navy, the Second Artillery Corps,
paramilitary police, and personnel from various military colleges and universities. More than 10 corps,
300,000 officers and soldiers, 114 Major Generals, Lieutenant Generals, and Generals, and over 5,000
officials at the regiment and division levels were sent to the levees along the Yangtze River to await
Jiang’s orders. During the flood a total of 7 million troops and 5 million civilian reserves [2] were used.
The total number of soldiers involved was higher than that of the major battles of Huanhai, Liaoshen, and
Pingjin that took place before the CCP seized power in China.
During the flooding Jiang also ordered the practice of exchanging commanders between military regions.
For example, he ordered that the Guangzhou and Nanjing military regions exchange commanders; what’s
more, the flood relief troops were frequently ordered to shift military bases. This was obviously a military
exercise and had nothing to do with relieving the flood and dealing with emergencies. A corps of
motorized vehicles was hastily airlifted to Wuhan, and then, from there, sent to Shishou and Jianli—
which were some 400 kilometers away. If this were indeed for emergency rescue, then why weren’t the
troops airlifted to Shishou and Jianli directly? Why were they sent along this route, which had the effect
of exhausting them and delaying the rescue? In another case, troops from the Beijing Military Region
were sent to Jiujiang City in Jiangxi Province, and then later to Shashi City in Hubei Province, before
being hurriedly sent to Yueyang City in Hunan Province.
As it turned out, the honorable cause of flood relief and emergency rescue gave Jiang a legitimate excuse
to test his authority and control over the military during times of peace. Had he adopted the flood
diversion proposal he couldn’t have enacted such a large-scale military exercise. This was another reason
why Jiang insisted against flood diversion. The lives and property of the millions of residents in the flood
disaster area were for Jiang simply justification for sending troops. The lives of hundreds of thousands of
soldiers and officers were but a trifling matter in Jiang’s eyes. When the troops braved danger to rescue
the people and their property, little did they know that it was Jiang—ironically, the Chairman of the
CMC—who had put the people and troops in that situation.
While all of this was unfolding, Jiang thoroughly enjoyed being Chairman of the CMC.
On the morning of Aug. 13, Jiang, along with Vice-Chairman of the CMC, Zhang Wannian, and the
director of the Central Administrative Office, Zeng Qinghong, flew to Shashi City, Hubei Province. Their
trip was to inspect the high-risk areas along the Yangtze River levee and the placement of troops in the
flood relief effort.
On the flight there, Jiang asked Zhang, “How many troops are there along the river?”
Zhang responded, “The PLA and paramilitary police have 130,000 troops there, in addition to over 2
million civilian reserves. In Hubei Province alone there are over 80,000 troops. The Jinan and Nanjing
military regions have also prepared five divisions for emergency dispatch. This is the largest military
activity along the Yangtze River since the ‘river crossing campaign’ during the civil war.”
When they arrived at the levee in Jinjiang City, Zhang unfurled a military map and briefed Jiang in the
presence of many media as to the dispatch and allocation of flood relief troops. Jiang, donning a military
uniform and a combat hat, acting his part as Commander-in-Chief, asked Zhang, “Where are the troops
from Jinan?” Zhang pointed to the map, “In Wuhan.” Jiang asked, “Where are the airborne units?” Zhang
said, “In Honghu.” Zhang then proceeded to report on other matters. After Zhang finished the briefing
Jiang gave a speech. He stated, “We have proved that our troops are indeed a people’s military equipped
with Marxism-Leninism, Mao Zedong thought, and Deng Xiaoping ideology. They are connected to the
people like fish to water, blood to flesh. Like we have always said, the military and the people are united
as one. Who can defeat us?”
This was the moment Jiang had longed for. He had at last satisfied his yearning to chair the CMC. In
times of peace the Commander-in-Chief doesn’t face real danger, so Jiang could in those circumstances
give commands the way he liked. But were there to be a real war, Jiang most likely would be nowhere to
be found.
All other things aside, Jiang used the Yangtze River flood to organize the largest military operation since
the Korean War and the largest military dispatch in the Yangtze region since the war against the
Kuomintang in the mid-1940s. He was delighted to see that the military knew, on political grounds, to
follow only his words, taking him to be the “core.” Through this operation Jiang truly established his
control over the military and completed the power transfer from the previous generation of leaders such
as Deng Xiaoping. This is the second real reason behind the order to guard the levees at the cost of death.
4. The Levee Collapses, Heart-Wrenching Cries Are Heard Everywhere
During the flooding, in addition to increasing the number of troops and paramilitary police, Jiang ordered
that officials of various rank increase the manpower and material resources being expended so as to guard
the levee. According to the Ministry of Water Resources, more than 70 million officials, troops, and
civilian reserves [3] were dispatched. The total expense was over 10 billion yuan.
Objecting to the flood diversion plan, Jiang ordered that the levee be guarded with human lives and
promised to give whatever manpower and material supplies were needed. Over 10 billion yuan worth of
materials and money were spent in all. But the results were not good. Between Aug. 1–5 the civilian-built
dykes ruptured in the Paizhou, Jiujiang, and Jiangxinzhou areas of Jiayu County. On Aug. 7, the levee
along the main channel of the Yangtze broke.
The civilian-built dyke at Waijiang in Jiayu County was the first to crack, happening on Aug. 1. For the
next five days soldiers and residents reinforced the ruptured area using sand bags, sunken boats, pilings,
panels, cement blocks, and rocks. On Aug. 5, the civilian-built dykes at Paizhou, Jiujiang, and
Jiangxinzhou in Jiayu County collapsed as well.
The area protected by the levee in Paizhou was home to a large number of people. It boasted rich soil and
a mild climate, making for high yields in fishing, grain production, commerce, industrial development,
and mining. When the flood danger was imminent, all the relatively strong men from the 20-plus nearby
towns of nearly 500,000 people went to work on the levee. Those left behind were the elderly, the ill,
women, and children under the age of 12. On the night of Aug. 5, the levee, which had been saturated
with water for more than a month, could no longer hold off the increasingly fierce flood. The water tore
open a hole of more than 50 meters and raced towards nearby villages, mines, schools, and farm fields.
Nearly 100 paramilitary police and civilian reserves guarding the levee were swept away. Some seniors,
women, and children were washed away without even waking from their sleep. In a panic, some people
climbed roofs and trees only to have them, in turn, be engulfed by the flood. Homes and property that
families worked for generations to build disappeared in an instant. Domestic animals such as chickens,
ducks, pigs, and cows drowned in the flood. In those hours between 3 a.m. on Aug. 5 and the next
afternoon, it felt as if the world was collapsing. For dozens of miles, land turned into ocean. And the
flooding continued, with high and strong waves. Heartbreaking cries could be heard all throughout the
area.
Government officials at various levels sent large vehicles and boats to block the dyke opening, while
organized rescue boats looked for survivors. But it was too late. The flood, roaring loudly by then, could
not be deterred. The materials intended to block the opening, such as grain bags, vehicles, or wrecked
boats, disappeared quickly into the waters. There was nothing survivors of the flood could do to help:
even the troops on the boats were having a hard time staying afloat. The rescue effort was severely
hindered.
Between just Aug. 6–7 alone, some 11,000 people disappeared from the county. Internal statistics after
the flood from the Jiayu County Civil Affairs Office showed that during the two levee breaks, 11,000
women, children, and the elderly went missing or dead. More than 1,000 troops and civilian reserves met
with the same fate. Many families were torn apart. Entire families died in the flood. Many bodies were
never recovered.
On Aug. 5, the floodwalls in the Jiujiang and Jiangxinzhou sections of the lower reaches of the Yangtze
River broke in unison. Fortunately it occurred during daytime, resulting in fewer casualties. On Aug. 7, a
main levee of the Yangtze River located in the Jiujiang section ruptured. The officials panicked and the
situation turned chaotic. The commander didn’t know what to do, and ordered that anything mobile be
thrown into the rupture to block the flood. Five million tons of rice, wheat, and soybeans, more than 50
trucks, and 18 wrecked boats were thus dumped into the waters. Later a 200-member special force group
from Zhangjiakou, who were trained in levee repair, came and built pilings around the rupture; afterwards
they used the pilings to stabilize pre-fabricated panels. Then they poured in mud and rocks, eventually
sealing the opening. The rupture caused 8.2 billion yuan of direct economic losses. Along with 12,000
deaths that took place in Paizhouwan, another 6,000 civilian deaths and over 50 billion yuan in economic
losses came about as the result of ruptures in Waijiang’s floodwall, the levees at the Jiujiang and
Jiangxinzhou sections, and the main levee of the Yangtze at the Jiujiang section.
By mid-August, the flood had forced 240 million people from their homes. Disease also broke out in the
disaster areas. Ever since the flooding, residents in the disaster area have born unimaginable hardship.
While all of this was happening, what did Jiang—the man whom Robert Kuhn credits with having
“changed China”—do with his time? Kuhn tells in his biography that in early September of that year
Jiang invited “15 prominent directors and actors, including Li Qiankuan and Sun Daolin, to
Zhongnanhai.” [4] What was he thinking? Did he invite them for a benefit performance, hoping to help
residents of the disaster area? Hardly.
In Jiang’s own words, it was his “idea of a good time.” [5] Kuhn writes, “Zeng [Qinghong] saw that his
boss was in good spirits, so he invited him to recite a poem. Never shy about taking the stage, Jiang did
so—in Russian.” [6] “To no one’s surprise, Jiang sat down and started playing, and Zeng Qinghong,
orchestrating, asked the guests to sing along.” [7] “Jiang played ‘An Evening in a Suburb of Moscow,’ an
old Russian love song.” [8] Young actresses sang along. Then everyone joined in for a popular song,
“The Ocean, My Home.” “Everyone knew the lyrics and sang together—especially Jiang who seemed
devoid of artistic inhibitions.” [9] While the surging Yangtze River was itself turning into an ocean and
threatening hundreds of millions of lives, Jiang was off singing, “The Ocean, My Home.” What is ironic
is that Jiang—who has always been one to avoid, out of fear or superstitious belief, certain words for their
possible associations—had no problem this time with the association of ideas. [10] Did he care
whatsoever about the suffering of the people? Where was so much as a trace of concern for the people’s
suffering?
At the Seventh International Symposium on River Sedimentation in 1998, Yang Zhenhuai, former
Minister of Water Resources and Commissioner of the Ninth National People’s Congress, said that the
main reason for the huge losses during the flood was that the flood diversion area and floodways were not
used as planned; this forced the flood waters much higher than otherwise would have been the case.
Jiang directed the media to systematically cover up this major policy mistake. Government officials were
required to repeat lies about casualties and property losses. The official numbers were set extremely low.
The actual casualties and amount of property loss were more than 50 times the official statistics.
Ironically, Kuhn’s book says something very different about the tragic losses incurred as a result of
Jiang’s violation of natural laws and discarding of the proposal to divert the flood. Kuhn wrote that Jiang
“attempted to boost morale by praising the efforts of the people and calling their struggle a vindication of
the Party, the socialist system, and the PLA.” [11] Jiang went beyond covering up his crimes, however, to
involving the nation itself in the mess, putting a propaganda spin on it. Quoting from Kuhn, “The
victory,” Jiang said, “also signified that the Chinese nation possesses the glorious tradition of constantly
striving to improve itself and of waging hard struggle, and that the Chinese nation is a great nation with
strong cohesiveness.” [12] Just what exactly Jiang had in mind by “cohesiveness” should by now be
apparent: sticking to the whims of its political leader Jiang, making him always the “core.”
The CCP’s propaganda machine called the flood “an extraordinary, once-in-a-century flood,” as if the
grave, man-made disaster were solely the result of natural forces. Jiang’s culpability was completely
glossed over.
The deceit involved here should reminded people of China’s three-year famine, lasting from 1959 to
1961. During those three years over 30 million people died of unnatural causes, making for the largest
number of deaths from starvation in times of peace ever known to history. It was one and a half times the
number of casualties in the eight-year War of Resistance against Japan. The official state media attributed
the calamity to an “extraordinary natural disaster.”
Scholars later found, however, that there were no serious natural disasters during those three years.
Flooding and drought only occurred in isolated areas, and was nothing out of the ordinary. The real cause
of the tragedy was the “Great Leap Forward” and the People’s Commune movements that the CCP
initiated in 1958. The two combined to devastate China. When the famine occurred the government put
up a pretense of prosperity and didn’t take any action to mitigate its impact. While the Chinese people
were starving in massive numbers, the Chinese government was still busying itself offering financial and
material support to other “Socialist brother countries.” Even today China’s government still hides from its
people the truth about the three-year famine. As a result many there still regard the episode—a tragedy
unsurpassed in history—as a “natural” disaster. So it is that the myth of a “three-year natural disaster”
lives on.
To the dismay of many, Kuhn casts the heartrending flood of 1998 in a different light. In his biography he
writes, “The great flood brought out both the engineer and the poet in Jiang.” [13] But as reality has it,
Jiang’s supposed talents “as an engineer and a poet” manifest as ignoring the laws of physics, refusing to
divert the flood for reasons of self-interest, and disregarding the lives and property of hundreds of
millions of affected residents.
5. Shedding Crocodile Tears and Show Business
Jiang also seized upon the disastrous flood as an opportunity to augment his credentials and elevate his
image. A bad thing was, in his hands, made out to be good. The catastrophe born of his own ineptitude
was turned into a vehicle for garnering praise. This, if anything, was Jiang’s talent.
On Aug. 13, when the rupture was repaired and the flood receded, Jiang went to Hubei Province. Tightly
flanked by paramilitary police and officials, his expression sullen, Jiang held a microphone and made a
speech on the Yangtze River levee. He said, “Flood resistance and disaster relief are priorities for the
areas along the Yangtze. We must persist, safeguarding at the cost of lives, to ensure the safety of the
Yangtze levee.” Into the camera he shouted out slogans, such as, “Believe firmly, and persist in this
decisive battle.”
The state-run Xinhua News Agency published a news report, from Jinzhou, that same day, stating:
The CCP General Secretary, Chairman of the nation, and Central Military Commission Chairman Jiang
Zemin, along with CCP Politburo member, State Council Vice Premier, and director of the Office of State
Flood Control and Drought Relief Headquarters Wen Jiabao, endured the summer heat to inspect the
frontlines of flood resistance and disaster relief along the Yangtze River in Hubei Province. They visited
and consoled the troops and citizens on the frontline, and gave instructions to the flood resistance and
disaster relief efforts. [14]
Even at times such as this Jiang’s media mouthpieces avoided discussion of the disaster-area residents
who needed the most help. They sidestepped carrying “negative news,” as they termed it, and focused the
spotlight instead on the glorious “core of the Party” who was leading the people from one “victory” to the
next.
When the flood receded the Ministry of Propaganda received a command from above to use the
momentum of Chairman Jiang’s “achievement of the great victory in fighting the flood” to create new
propaganda for the Jiang-led “core.” A new personality cult was in the making. The tone of the CCP’s
propaganda and of Jiang’s speeches thus elevated to a new pitch.
The CCP-controlled newspapers and magazines pretended to quote international media so as to further
build up Jiang. They lauded Jiang with unabashed and rather ludicrous titles, setting him among the “men
of greatness,” characterized by Mao and Deng.
6. A Peculiar Flood
The flood in 1998 was rather peculiar.
When the flood first began, a rhyme was oft repeated in Beijing: “Jiang Zemin, Jiang Zemin, the river
water drowns men.” [15] In other words, it was implied that Jiang’s coming to power would bring a
water-born disaster.
The idea was not entirely without substance. In 1996 Jiang visited a famous temple on his way to
southern China. After offering incense in the main hall, Jiang went to the bell tower. The abbot tried hard
to dissuade Jiang from tolling the bell, “Kind benefactor, you must not toll the bell here.” Jiang grew
annoyed and ignored the abbot, tolling the ancient bell. The abbot was silent for a long time and wept.
Later it was learned that the abbot knew Jiang Zemin to be the reincarnation of the king of toads. The bell
he tolled would trigger the water species to bring trouble to China. After the incident floods would hit
China every year and be difficult to quell.
From that point on it did seem that water-induced disasters grew more severe in China. In 1998, which
was Jiang’s zodiac year of the Tiger, the flood disaster was unprecedented. In the ensuing years flooding
proved to be frequent.
While it might be hard to verify the remark about a toad king, Jiang’s inclination for water is well known.
He has had an affinity for water all his life, and even on foreign visits he had found it hard to resist
submerging himself in water. Pictures of him swimming in Hawaii and in the Dead Sea have been widely
shown in the media. Most of the hotels he has chosen to stay at have had aquatic creatures on display.
Jiang’s bulging eyes, big mouth, and thin lips do, after all, resemble a toad. When he claps his 10 fingers
are splayed rather than together—something unique.
Outside of China a number of persons who have studied the Book of Revelation in the Bible,
Nostradamus’s book Century, and the prophecy book Push Back Pictures have in recent years come upon
prophecies that would point to the unique role Jiang has played in the present day as well as the disasters
he would bring to China and the world at large.
That Jiang’s origin has a deep connection with water was noted by the famous French prophet
Nostradamus, who wrote:
From the three water signs will be born a man
who will celebrate Thursday as his holiday.
His renown, praise, rule and power will grow
on land and sea, bringing trouble to the East. [16]
Jiang Zemin was born in Jiangsu Province in 1926, the year of the Tiger. The Chinese character for
“Jiang” in the two-character name “Jiangsu” has built into it the semantic classifier designating water.
Jiang was first promoted to an important position in Shanghai, of which the Chinese character “Hai” has
as its classifier the water radical. When Jiang moved to Beijing and became the highest leader of China,
he lived in Zhongnanhai— the “hai” of which again has the water classifier. Many of the persons who
promoted Jiang had names comprised of characters with water components. Take for example Zhang
Aiping, a friend of Jiang’s uncle Jiang Shangqing, who favored Jiang in that Jiang claimed to be
Shangqing’s foster child. The Chinese character “Ping” as used in the name Zhang Aiping also has as its
semantic classifier the water component. When in Shanghai, Jiang was promoted by Wang Daohan. The
character “Wang” that appears in his name again has the water component. Or consider Jiang’s political
benefactor, Bo Yibo, who helped Jiang eliminate powerful adversaries in Beijing as he fought for power.
The character “Bo” also has as its classifier the water radical. Toads prefer water to soil and detest fire,
which would explain why Jiang so disliked Zhao Ziyang (the character “Yang” signifies the sun) and
Qiao Shi (“shi” means rock).
One episode is telling. The Hemudu Relics Museum is located in what was formerly the Yuyuan County
(now a city), Zhejiang Province. In 1982 the Museum was designated a national historic site. Qiao Shi
wrote the calligraphy for a sign to be hung above the gate of the museum, reading, “Hemudu Relics
Museum.” After Jiang came to power he visited the museum in September 1992. His face turned dark
upon seeing that the sign bore Qiao’s calligraphy. Qiao’s name, containing the semantic components
designating “rock” and “soil,” would, in view of classical Chinese physics, have the effect of inhibiting
the water component of Jiang’s name. Jiang couldn’t tolerate Qiao, and grew irritated as he looked at
Qiao’s writing. In May 1993, the museum, acting on Jiang’s prompting, used the excuse of
“reorganizing” itself and reopening to replace Qiao’s calligraphy with an inscription written by none
other than Jiang.
Something rather incredible is that the book Push Back Pictures, which dates back to China’s Tang
Dynasty, predicted—in its fiftieth image—a flood that would be related to Jiang. The fiftieth image shows
a ferocious tiger looking for food in the bushes. The tiger appears to be attacking something. The
prophetic captions tells, “Beasts are esteemed; men are disdained.” The poem accompanying the image
reads, “A man of Tiger in the year of Tiger; white rice fills the barn but is worth little. Jackals and wolves
walk the streets; when clouds scatter, the sky begins to emerge.”
“A man of Tiger in the year of Tiger; white rice fills the barn but is worth little” would thus refer to the
ruler Jiang Zemin in 1998—a man of the zodiac Tiger, in the year of the Tiger—failing to handle the
flood well owing to self interest, the result of which was grave disaster. To block ruptures in the dykes
soldiers and civilians threw large amounts of grain into the river. The violent flooding indeed destroyed
many a barn filled with rice; the valuable goods were lost in but a moment’s time. The last two lines,
“Jackals and wolves walk the streets; when clouds scatter, the sky begins to emerge” hint at the
emergence and outcome of a conflict pitting forces of good and evil against one another, analogous to the
actions of the military, the police, and other government apparatus under Jiang’s rule.
A textual comment inserted years back by Jin Sheng says, “This image describes great chaos in the year
of the Tiger. The emperor will be corrupt and the officials violent. The people will have a hard time
making a living. When it subsides, upheaval will unfold yet again.”
Three of the Nostradamus lines are rather self-explanatory. The last sentence, less obvious, should be read
as referring to the persecution of Falun Gong in 1999—an episode following close on the heels of the
1998 flood. And it is as such that the second sentence comes to make sense. For it was on a Thursday—
July 22, 1999—that Jiang, holding powers over land and sea, launched what he thought would be a swift,
triumphant campaign to squash the Falun Gong. The move was to be a show of power that would solidify
further Jiang’s rule. This “upheaval” will be detailed in later chapters.
7. The Anti-Chinese Movement in Indonesia
The flood demonstrated that Jiang cared not as to how many Chinese died in the disaster. Any serious
natural or man-made disaster, as long as it could be used to solidify his power, was for Jiang an
opportunity to seize upon. If he couldn’t make use of the occasion he would simply ignore it or pretend it
didn’t exist.
At least it could be said nature played a role in the 1998 flood. That same year, however, what Chinese
people faced in Indonesia was fully a man-made disaster.
A riot against ethnic Chinese in Indonesia broke out on May 13, 1998, and lasted for three days. The
property of Chinese Indonesians was widely looted and destroyed. Over 2,000 ethnic Chinese living in
Indonesia were killed and hundreds of women were gang raped. Some were even killed after being raped.
The international community was shocked and angered by the barbaric attacks. The United States
Congress and the United Nations Human Rights Commission both issued statements condemning the
incident. Leaders of many countries and organizations in kind condemned the Indonesian government.
Media reported extensively on the riot. Chinese living outside of China were irate, and demanded that the
Chinese government condemn the events as well.
Surprisingly, though, Jiang stated that the violence was Indonesia’s “internal affair,” and that, as such,
China’s print media should not report on it; the Chinese government, he instructed, should not interfere.
Thus China’s media hid the news from the people. Only a few small newspapers published short articles
on the matter, and two weeks after the event, at that. Had Jiang made a public statement or given a
warning on behalf of the Chinese government, the plight of Indonesia’s Chinese wouldn’t have been so
heartrending and unalterable. Under the circumstances the Chinese government had the right—and
responsibility—to do so. But Jiang feared that any action might affect his ties with Indonesia’s leader.
Again he disregarded people’s welfare and acted in a craven manner.
Jiang’s actions not only disappointed Chinese the world over, but humiliated them to no small degree.
The government of a country so large and with such a distinguished 5,000-year history didn’t show even
the most basic sense of justice or responsibility towards its people. Faced with such violence, with the
rape of his people, Jiang shamelessly took the stance of “not interfering with [Indonesia’s] internal
affairs.” The example is yet another instantiation of Jiang’s carelessness with human lives and cowardice
in the face of crisis.
____________________
Notes:
[1] A form of Chinese geomancy—the practice of reading landscapes.
[2] The numbers 5 and 7 millions have taken into account the multiple dispatches of some people. For example, if out of ten
civilians there were four who were dispatched three times, the total would be eighteen [i.e., 6+(4×3)=18].
[3] As per the formula in footnote 2 above.
[4] Robert Lawrence Kuhn, The Man Who Changed China: The Life and Legacy of Jiang Zemin (New York: Crown, 2004), 366.
[5] Kuhn, The Man Who Changed China, 366.
[6] Ibid., 366.
[7] Ibid., 369.
[8] Ibid., 369.
[9] Ibid., 369.
[10] That is, that of the swelling Yangtze River and the ocean he sang of.
[11] Kuhn, The Man Who Changed China, 365.
[12] Ibid., 365.
[13] Ibid., 365.
[14] As carried in China’s press on August 13, 1998.
[15] The three Chinese characters comprising the name Jiang Zemin mean “river,” “swamp,” and “people,” and it was this that the
rhyme was playing on.
[16] Century I, Verse 50, retrieved from http://www.sacred-texts.com/nos/cen1eng.htm on July 9, 2005.
The year 1999 proved to be a troubled one for China.
The Balkan Peninsula had always been regarded as a “powder keg,” and it was in 1999 that a fateful
spark was finally ignited. The Serbian army that year slaughtered thousands of Albanian civilians in a
wave of ethnic cleansing, forcing more than 1.5 million Albanians to flee their homeland. As described by
the refugees, massacres took place in at least 75 cities and villages in Kosovo. More than 5,000 ethnic
Albanians were eliminated in mass executions.
While the international community was outraged over Slobodan Milosevic’s genocidal crimes, the people
of China had little idea of what had happened. China’s state-controlled media only allowed, as usual, one
voice—that of the Party—and that voice told not the plight of the Albanians. The United Nations didn’t
intervene militarily in the matter owing to protest by China and Russia. In the end it was NATO—led by
the United States—that, out of humanitarian considerations, launched an air raid on Yugoslavia. The
move took place on March 24, 1999.
1. A Diplomacy of Appeasement
The 2nd Session of the 9th National People’s Congress (NPC) had concluded two weeks before the air
raid. In a NPC press conference, Premier Zhu Rongji said of his upcoming visit to the U.S., “Since you
[the U.S.] are angry, I wish to visit so as to dispel the anger you feel.” However, with NATO air raids
having begun, if Zhu Rongji went to the U.S. and made significant concessions on the matter of the WTO
(to which China then sought admittance), it would be hard to pacify the nationalistic sentiment that had
been stirred up among the general populace of China; people wouldn’t settle for a compromise. Were he
not to go, though, a golden opportunity might be missed.
The Politburo held a meeting to discuss expressly this issue. Both Li Peng and Qian Qichen were against
Zhu Rongji’s visit to the U.S. They thought his “appeasement diplomacy” amounted to begging for favors
and showing weakness. However, Jiang Zemin urged Zhu to leave for the U.S. as scheduled. If the
negotiations with the U.S. on WTO accession were to succeed, Jiang—as the General Secretary of the
CCP—would naturally get credit. It would be an achievement during the Jiang Zemin era written into
history. Were the negotiations to fail, it would stand to deflate Zhu’s arrogance—a prospect Jiang
welcomed, as Zhu’s substantial contributions at the time jeopardized Jiang’s standing. Some of Jiang’s
conversations with aids and staff indicated that he would rather Zhu return having failed.
If it weren’t for the fact that Jiang needed Zhu to clean up the mess that was then China’s economy, Jiang
would never have utilized Zhu. Jiang had been envious of Zhu’s charisma since as early as the pair’s
Shanghai days. When Zhu met with the press or spoke at meetings, he would say something sincere,
which others found stirring. Zhu’s words were not only more honest than Jiang’s, but more upright and
caring. He was even liked by the attractive female reporters from Hong Kong and Taiwan.
Zhu’s attitude was evident. He knew that the agriculture, telecommunication, and finance industries of
China would be hurt by China’s joining the WTO. Moreover, given the low efficiency of the state
enterprises, many enterprises would go bankrupt if fair competition were to be allowed. Zhu thus didn’t
want to make too many concessions in his negotiations with the U.S. Jiang instructed him otherwise,
however, saying, “I think we can consent to the U.S. demands in the agricultural product agreement
between China and the U.S. and in the telecommunication and finance related items. As soon as you
arrive in the U.S. you will announce that you agree to sign the agricultural cooperation agreement. I
believe we can reach a tacit understanding with Clinton, and we can agree to the other things later on. Try
to brilliantly win a political battle.”
Zhu’s “appeasement diplomacy” suffered great setbacks. Since the United States didn’t consider China a
market economy, it proposed many additional terms. It was largely impossible for China to sign the WTO
agreement before Zhu returned to China. Although every concession Zhu made was approved by Jiang,
the CCP’s senior statesmen were unhappy with Zhu’s concessions. Qiao Shi, who seldom spoke out about
anything, was outraged upon learning of the role Jiang had played, and said, “National interests are first
and foremost. They should never be forgotten at any time or in any circumstance.” Party veterans such as
Wan Li and Song Ping even called the agreements a “new Twenty-One Demands.” [1] Upon seeing their
reactions, Jiang played a trick and replied to the criticism with a Chinese proverb, “When a general is
away, even the emperor’s orders may sometimes not be obeyed.” [2] Jiang seamlessly shifted all the
blame to Zhu Rongji.
Zhu returned to China from his U.S. visit on April 21. So as to avoid seeing Zhu, Jiang went to Hubei
with staff of the General Office of the CCP’s Central Committee to attend a meeting. He also instructed
Li Lanqing to leave for Liaoning. When Zhu returned he received a rather cold and cheerless welcome. In
a Politburo meeting that followed, Jiang turned toward Zhu and disdainfully questioned him, “In the
negotiation why did you go beyond the bottom line set before by the Politburo?” In Zhu’s presence he
praised Wu Yi, who had traveled to the U.S. with Zhu, saying, “Comrade Wu Yi was courageous to hold
her ground and refuse to compromise her principles while making deals.” The remarks greatly
embarrassed Zhu.
Jiang was filled with a sense of exaltation upon seeing Zhu’s eminence dashed to such a degree.
2. The CCP Had Long Understood Falun Gong
There appears to be a pattern whereby the CCP goes through something tumultuous in each year that ends
with the number “9.” In 1949 the CCP fought the remainder of a civil war and established its regime. In
1959 it suppressed the Tibetan “rebellion” (as it was misleadingly called) and started a war with India. In
1969 it fought a battle with the Soviet Union. In 1979 there was the Sino-Vietnamese War. In 1989 the
CCP first suppressed a so-called Tibetan “riot” and then, on June 4, there was the Tiananmen Square
Massacre of student activists. In 1999 the CCP launched its suppression of Falun Gong.
The matter of Falun Gong calls for a certain amount of explanation. Outsiders typically have two
misconceptions about the practice. First, many think that when Jiang Zemin initiated the suppression of
Falun Gong he, as with other top CCP officials, knew little about the group. This is not accurate in the
least, however. Secondly, many think that the suppression started in 1999 and that prior to that the CCP
had been at peace with Falun Gong. This was not exactly the case, either, however. The fact is, China’s
top Party officials learned about Falun Gong very early on and were quite clear about what the practice is.
It was merely that some persons sought to stir up problems with the group, with the result that a number
of complications came about.
The founder of Falun Gong, a Mr. Li Hongzhi, started to teach the practice publicly in May 1992. Soon
after, there was a sizeable practice site in Beijing’s Purple Bamboo Park. Many retired senior cadres of
the CCP live in the vicinity of the park, among whom were, at the time, retired military generals and
high-ranking officials from the State Council as well as various departments in the Party Central
Committee. These people’s length of service and experience in the Party far surpassed those of Jiang
Zemin, Zhu Rongji, Luo Gan, and Li Lanqing, and as such they belonged to the true “older generation of
proletariat revolutionaries”—as the CCP called it. Some had even participated in the famed Long March
of 1934. The members of the Standing Committee of the CCP’s 15th National Congress (in 1997) were
all formerly subordinates of these figures and thus their “juniors.” One officer with the surname of Zhou,
for example, had retired from the powerful State Council and had been Zhu Rongji’s superior. He would
call Zhu “Young Zhu” whenever the two met. These retired officers had time aplenty on their hands, and
many had practiced qigong. They also talked to one another and shared news regularly. Upon taking up
Falun Gong many of them introduced it to their former subordinates, who had since come to hold
positions of power.
Sometime before 1996 a Falun Gong practitioner in the Purple Bamboo Park area went to Jiang Zemin’s
home to teach Jiang’s wife, Wang Yeping, the exercises.
Li Lanqing similarly knew Falun Gong from an early date. Li used to be Minister of Foreign Trade and
Economic Cooperation, and was the immediate superior of a Falun Gong adherent with whom he enjoyed
a good relationship. Sources reveal that in 1995 the Falun Gong student shared with others that he had
introduced Falun Gong to his former minister, Li. He said that he mainly spoke with Li about the ways in
which Falun Gong benefited the state and the nation. He gave a copy of Falun Gong’s principal
book, Zhuan Falun, to Li.
Li Peng, meanwhile, was no outsider to Falun Gong either. He had read the book Zhuan Falun himself. Li
obtained his copy from a vice-minister in the Ministry of the Electrical Power Industry, which Li used to
head. Since Jiang Zemin lived next door to Li at Zhongnanhai, Li personally gave a copy of Zhuan
Falun to Jiang.
Jiang’s former supervisor at the Wuhan Thermal Power Research Institute practiced Falun Gong, as well.
At one of the institute’s parties, former colleagues of Jiang spoke with him about Falun Gong. In 1996
when Jiang inspected China Central Television (CCTV), he saw that a staff member had a copy of Zhuan
Falun on his desk. Jiang said to the person, “Zhuan Falun—this is a good book.” Yet in spite of these
facts to the contrary, Jiang later claimed—after banning Falun Gong—that he had never heard of the
practice until April 25, 1999. It was a flat-out lie.
Luo Gan similarly had heard of Falun Gong early on. In 1995, in fact, Luo’s former supervisor and
colleagues in the Academy of Mechanical Sciences introduced him to Falun Gong.
Hu Jintao, China’s current leader, learned about Falun Gong no later than 1998. Zhang Mengye, his
former classmate at Tsinghua University, had at one time suffered from cirrhosis of the liver and liver
ascites. Zhang’s face turned dark and dropsical, and the hospital pronounced there was no hope of
survival. But by taking up the practice of Falun Gong Zhang managed to escape from the jaws of death.
When Tsinghua classmates gathered at alumni reunions in 1998 and 1999, Zhang attended both, healthy
as ever, and personally shared with Hu his experience of recovery. Zhang also mailed the books of Falun
Gong to Hu Jintao’s wife in hopes that the couple might in kind come to enjoy better health. Hu’s wife
sent a postcard to Zhang wishing to express the couple’s gratitude. The 1999 alumni reunion happened to
be on April 25—the day 10,000 followers of Falun Gong gathered in demonstration at the State Letters
and Complaints Bureau near Zhongnanhai. Hu and his wife saw the dramatic scene on their way back to
Zhongnanhai from the alumni party. Hu afterwards passed on word to Zhang, via a mutual classmate in
Beijing, to be careful.
Beginning from the year 1992 there were people who practiced Falun Gong in every ministry and
commission directly below the State Council. And the number of practitioners only continued to grow.
Even a number of vice-ministers took up the practice. From Chairmen and Vice-Chairmen of the National
People’s Congress on down to its Ministers and Vice Premier, to Chairmen and Vice-Chairmen of the
Chinese People’s Political Consultative Conference, almost everyone in power had read Zhuan Falun.
The wives of all seven members of the Standing Committee of Politburo of the Central Committee of the
CCP—China’s most powerful ruling body—had learned the practice of Falun Gong. Its pronounced
effects on health and moral values led the qigong to spread—largely by word of mouth, no less—at an
incredible speed. By 1999 more than 100 million people in mainland China had read Zhuan Falun.
3. Wind Sweeping Through the Tower Heralds a Storm Forming in the Mountains
The qigong master Li Hongzhi had numerous students, and there was bound to be a Judas or two. During
the initial period when Li was spreading Falun Gong, a few of the practice’s activity coordinators from
Changchun City violated multiple times the stipulations of Falun Gong. They embezzled and diverted the
extremely tight funds the practice was working with and tampered with its exercises. Li repeatedly
showed patience toward the group, sources tell, but they continued down that path and ended up turning
against Falun Gong. Beginning in 1994 the Changchun group, consisting of eight persons, wrote letters to
13 ministries and commissions directly under the State Council, lodging false accusations against Falun
Gong. They wrote three volumes enumerating 12 charges which, though lacking a factual basis, amounted
to thousands of pages. It was these very same materials that would later become, in 1999, fodder for the
CCP when it launched its suppression of Falun Gong.
On Feb. 9, 1995, the Falun Gong Research Society of China submitted three detailed reports to China’s
Scientific Qigong Research Association (and carbon copied them to other relevant departments). One of
the reports responded factually to each and every false charge in the defamatory letters written by the
eight from Changchun. Many leaders were surprised upon learning the truth of the matter. They
responded, “Falun Gong is actually so good. Why didn’t you contact us earlier? We didn’t know about
you. Please keep us posted in the future.” And that ended the 1994 episode of the defamatory materials.
Hu Yaobang, former General Secretary of the CCP, had made a written comment on qigong that was well
known. In February 1980, the editorial department of China’s Nature Magazine hosted the First
Conference on Extraordinary Somatic Functioning in Shanghai. Several persons possessed of
supernatural-type abilities were invited to give an on-site demonstration. Hu sent a secretary to evaluate
the demonstrations at the conference. Hu, then in Beijing, personally wrote a note on a piece of paper and
sealed it in a container. No one but he knew its content. He asked his secretary to take the sealed note to
the conference. The secretary returned to Beijing with Hu’s note, still sealed, along with the wording read
from the sealed note by the persons with supernatural abilities. Hu examined the container that he had
personally sealed so as to ensure it hadn’t been tampered with, looked at the words from the persons with
supernatural abilities, confirmed their accuracy, and came to believe that supernatural abilities do exist.
Soon afterwards Hu instructed the Ministry of Propaganda of the CCP Central Committee to follow a
policy of “Three No’s” on matters of qigong and extrasensory functions, which were by then highly
contested: no publicizing, no debating, no criticizing. He also instructed that a small number of people be
allowed to conduct research on the phenomena. In April 1982, the Ministry thus proceeded to issue a
notice that the message be passed on, and the well-known policy of “Three No’s” was born.
In 1996, Xu Guangchun, Vice Minister of the Central Ministry of Propaganda, seized upon an
opportunity provided by the one-month-plus trip abroad of another vice-minister who was in charge
of qigong affairs. Xu summoned to a meeting the editors-in-chief of the 10 major newspapers run by the
Central Committee. He ordered the Guangming Daily to publish an article maligning Falun Gong and
asked that other major newspapers run the article. Afterwards the Press and Publication Administration
under the Central Ministry of Propaganda issued an internal document to the Press and Publication
Bureaus of every province and city prohibiting the publication of all books of Falun Gong, which
included the popular Zhuan Falun and China Falun Gong, on grounds of their supposedly “spreading
superstition.” Xu’s actions, however, were themselves in violation of the policy of “Three-No’s” that Hu
Yaobang had formulated. Xu wanted to gain political favor by attacking Falun Gong, and so it was that he
attempted to have Falun Gong branded a “crude, rudimentary cult.”
However, by that time there were adherents of Falun Gong working at most every major newspaper. And
even greater numbered those in the Ministry of Public Security—the state apparatus that in fact
implements programs of suppression. For example Wang Fang, the former Minister of Public Security,
was a qigong fan. His wife was a devout Buddhist. Wang worked for the China Foundation for Upholding
Justice and Rescuing Those in Danger (an affiliate of the Ministry of Public Security) after he retired.
Influenced by Minister Wang, many in the Ministry of Public Security took up the practice of qigong.
And notably, many chiefs and directors of public security bureau and public security departments in
various cities were practicing Falun Gong. For instance Ye Hao and Li Chang, both members of the Falun
Gong Research Society, were deputy directors in the Ministry of Public Security.
The attempted 1996 suppression of Falun Gong thus fizzled out before it got off the ground, the main
reason being that, in addition to the above presence, relevant government offices received hundreds of
thousands of letters of support from the public describing what Falun Gong was about. Luo Gan then
attempted twice—once in 1997 and again in 1998—to suppress Falun Gong on grounds that it was a
“heretical cult.” This was not because, notably, Falun Gong had done something wrong. Instead, it was
because Luo had been appointed Secretary of the Commission on Political and Legal Affairs, which was
about as high of a rank as he could reach at the time, and as such he needed to do something impressive if
he wished to gain further promotion. Just as servicemen are most esteemed in times of war, Luo wanted
to muddy the waters of his country so as to himself become—as the Secretary of the Commission on
Political and Legal Affairs—the political focus of things.
The documents then issued by Luo sought to incriminate Falun Gong. He first declared that Falun Gong
was a “heretical cult,” and then ordered regional public security departments to collect evidence. The
move amounted to a “guilty until proven innocent” verdict. Agents from the Ministry of Public Security
and the United Front Department were sent, along with special agents, to the practice sites of Falun Gong
to learn the discipline. They studied the practice’s main text, Zhuan Falun, together with its students,
though they were there as planted agents. But Falun Gong as a rule has no secrets to hide: its activities
were open and the public welcomed; persons came and left freely; any and all were welcome to learn
the qigong and could quit whenever they so chose; and there was no registering or membership fees
involved. Many of the planted agents through the assignment came to understand Falun Gong on a deeper
level than before. Many, in fact, decided to take up the practice for real.
The two investigations conducted by Luo did, however, have severe, adverse consequences for Falun
Gong in some areas. For example, the Public Security Bureau in Chaoyang City of Liaoning Province
issued in 1998 a certain Document No. 37, titled “Notice on Forbidding Illegal Activities of Falun Gong.”
The item was sent to its subsidiary public security branches. Some of Falun Gong’s volunteer
helpers [3] were fined multiple times, with total fines in excess of 4,000 yuan; no receipts, or only
unofficial receipts, were given. More than 40 people went to the Ministry of Public Security to petition
authorities on the matter. More than 1,000 persons submitted a joint complaint to Chaoyang Public
Security Bureau on grounds that the bureau’s actions were unlawful and violated citizens’ rights. In other
areas, such as Xinjiang, Heilongjiang, Hebei, and Fujian Provinces, local public security offices used
force to disperse people who had gathered in public to do the exercises of Falun Gong. They unlawfully
ransacked adherents’ homes, broke into private residences, and confiscated personal property.
Luo grew worried over what was unfolding in that despite the nationwide efforts, evidence that would
incriminate Falun Gong was not turning up. It was at this time that he learned that those charged with
overseeing qigong in the Ministry of Public Security typically knew a lot about qigong, and many were
themselves practicing it. When Luo issued orders to suppress Falun Gong, the relevant persons in charge
did little, it turned out, instead of implementing orders in earnest. And it was for this reason, in fact, that
Luo had begun as early as 1996 to restructure the Ministry of Public Security. He not only had its
organization changed, but also transferred to other departments all who were handling qigong affairs or
were knowledgeable about qigong.
Upon learning of what Luo had done, Zhu Rongji had reprimanded Luo, accusing him of “using the most
advanced spy tactics to deal with common people, instead of focusing on more major and serious
matters.” Luo was quite dejected by this. Unremorseful, Luo banked on his good relationship with Jiang
Zemin and dared to withhold a positive memo on Falun Gong written by Zhu, stopping it from being
passed down to subsidiary departments.
4. He Zuoxiu, the Thug Scientist
In May 1998, Luo Gan’s brother-in-law, He Zuoxiu, fomented an incident involving Beijing Television.
He Zuoxiu rigged up a story about Falun Gong for a program run on Beijing TV, called Beijing Express.
He told the reporter that a Ph.D. student at the Chinese Academy of Sciences had developed psychosis as
a result of practicing Falun Gong. While the student did exhibit abnormal behavior, it in fact had nothing
to do with Falun Gong. This was something He Zuoxiu knew, as the student’s roommates and classmates
had explained the matter to him. But He went ahead with plans and, fully aware of the truth of the matter,
proceeded to frame up Falun Gong on the television program. Many persons who had benefited from the
practice of Falun Gong went in response, acting of their own accord, to Beijing Television to explain the
truth of the matter. One person at the station, a deputy director, noticed the peacefulness of the group.
Upon learning the truth of things he decided at once to produce another program, this time to undo the
negative impact of the erroneous story. The issue was resolved satisfactorily.
While He Zuoxiu is known as an “academician of two academies,” [4] he would be more accurately
described as a political opportunist. He is good at passing himself off as a statesman while in the company
of scientists and a scientist while in the company of politicians. He is extremely skilled in critiquing
genuine science on politically-informed ideological grounds. He won favor with the section chief
responsible for scientific affairs in the Central Ministry of Propaganda for promoting the theory of “the
class nature of the natural sciences,” and was transferred to the Central Ministry of Propaganda after
graduating from college so that he could do work in ideological propaganda. He thus rode high just about
everywhere in scientific and technical circles despite having limited knowledge.
A few examples are illustrative. Frederick Kekule discovered benzene’s ring structure at the beginning of
the 20th century. During the next several decades, however, chemists failed to explain why benzene was
structured as it was. Later, Linus Pauling, a Nobel laureate in chemistry, established the Resonance
Theory, which offered a convincing explanation to the Kekule Model. This was the beginning of the
application of quantum theory to structural chemistry. He Zuoxiu, however, accused the proven Kekule
Model of being a “manifestation of compromise of social classes in the scientific world.” Hundreds of
structural chemistry experts in China were thus, at He’s proclamation, implicated and forced to write
statements of “self-criticism” detailing their purportedly “capitalist leanings.” Quantum theory research in
China was thus dealt a severe setback from which it would not soon recover.
Nobort Wiener was a well known Jewish academic who once taught at Tsinghua University in Beijing. In
1965 Wiener discovered through research that a hawk seldom missed when snaring a rabbit owing to a
feedback system in the hawk’s brain; hawks could adjust as often as needed their flight trajectory in
response to the location and speed of the rabbit being pursued. If a similar system were installed in an
anti-aircraft gun, the chances of hitting a target would be vastly improved. Wiener came to believe that
there were traits in common between the biological world and that of man-made artifice. But He Zuoxiu,
meanwhile, held that from the perspective of the CCP’s doctrine of “class struggle,” different social
classes fundamentally could not reconcile with one another, let alone could animate and inanimate
entities. He and others again banished many scientists on these political grounds, claiming them to have
wrongly identified with a theory that recognized “the reconciliation of social classes.”
He Zuoxiu also attacked Morgan’s Gene Theory on purely ideological grounds. He criticized Murray
Gell-Mann’s Nobel-Prize winning Quark Model using Marxism-Leninism. And finally, in later years, He
turned his attention upon qigong, which he criticized for being “pseudoscience.” It was said of He that he
was “an old man with a Red heart, his fighting spirit undiminished, possessed of assault skills every bit as
sharp as before.”
Because of his political contributions by way of attacking politically-incorrect science and safeguarding
Party ideology, He was recommended in strong terms by Red Flag, a state-run journal, for promotion to
the Chinese Academy of Sciences. Following his promotion He continued to utilize his credentials in
political service of the CCP, especially of its top leaders. In 2001, when Jiang Zemin’s theory of the
“Three Represents” was being trumpeted, He gave a speech at a conference on Quantum Mechanics at the
Chinese Academy of Sciences in which he declared, “The laws of quantum mechanics conform to the
spirit of Jiang Zemin’s Three Represents.” Several honest scholars with integrity promptly left the
conference. Many more felt indignant but dared not speak out.
He Zuoxiu knew that Luo Gan, meanwhile, had seen a way to win favor with Jiang by attacking Falun
Gong, and thus He did his utmost to discredit, in the name of “science,” Falun Gong. He attacked
repeatedly. He by then had such a notorious reputation, however, that one deputy mayor in Beijing
personally instructed Beijing-based media not to run any of He’s misleading articles. Only by doing so,
he argued, would media be complying with the Central Committee’s policy on qigong of Three No’s—no
publicizing, no debating, no criticizing.
5. Conclusion of the Central Committee’s Investigation
The State Sports Administration carried out a comprehensive investigation of Falun Gong in May 1998.
To support the investigation, in September of that year a team of medical experts conducted a survey of
12,553 Falun Gong practitioners in Guangdong Province. The survey found that overall Falun Gong was
effective in improving the health and/or fitness levels of 97.9 percent of those involved. Meanwhile, on
Oct. 20, the head of a research team that was dispatched to the northern cities of Changchun and Harbin
by the State Sports Administration said in a speech explaining its team’s findings, “We believe the
exercises and efficacy of Falun Gong are both excellent. It has achieved remarkable results in improving
society’s stability and moral ethics. This should be amply affirmed.” During the same period of time, an
investigation of Falun Gong conducted by non-governmental organizations in Dalian City, Beijing, and
other places arrived at similar results.
In the latter half of 1998, several retired senior officials of the National People’s Congress, with comrade
Qiao Shi as the head, launched their own investigation into Falun Gong upon receiving a large volume of
letters from the general public telling of public security agents mistreating them (at Luo Gan’s instigation)
for their practice of Falun Gong. The investigation concluded that “Falun Gong has many benefits and
does nothing to harm the state or the people.” It was submitted to the Politburo—headed by Jiang
Zemin—towards the end of 1998.
Falun Gong continued to grow rapidly. By early 1999 media outlets in China stated in their fitness
reportage that 100 million people were practicing Falun Gong. The book Zhuan Falun was translated into
a number of foreign languages and was being read in 30 countries and territories around the world. Many
persons of non-Chinese descent had taken up the practice, some traveling thousands of miles to China to
learn Chinese, just so that they could read the original Chinese text of Zhuan Falun. In February 1999, a
major magazine in the States, U.S. News & World Report, ran an article that quoted a Chinese
government source as saying “‘Falun Gong and other types of qigong can save each person 1,000 yuan in
annual medical fees. If 100 million people are practicing it, that’s 100 billion yuan saved per year in
medical fees.'” The official then added that, “‘Premier Zhu Rongji is very happy about that. The country
could use the money right now.'” [5] Few could have imagined what would soon befall Falun Gong.
6. The April 25 Event
Finding himself now unable to publish in Beijing articles defaming Falun Gong, He Zuoxiu set his sights
elsewhere. In April 1999, He wrote an article, titled “I Don’t Support Young People Practicing Qigong,”
that was run in Youth Science Expo—a magazine published by the Tianjin College of Education. In the
article, he accused Falun Gong of causing people to harm themselves by doing things such as jumping off
buildings and refusing food and water—which would be, notably, out of line with Falun Gong’s
teachings. The article further stated that readers who did Falun Gong were susceptible to serious mental
and psychological problems. He even went so far as to suggest that the practice of Falun Gong might
bring about the demise of the nation by destroying its young generation.
Many followers of Falun Gong felt, after seeing the piece, that unless its irresponsible (and dishonest)
claims were straightened out, not only might it effect the loss of legal rights for the group, but further drag
the body of practitioners into the unpleasant political battles instigated by persons with ulterior motives.
Thereupon several thousand followers of the practice went of their own accord to see the editorial
department of the journal and talk about the matter. Several were given an audience with the editors. But
just as the group was about to end what had been a calm and rational meeting and the publisher,
moreover, was ready to publish a correction, the Tianjin City government suddenly dispatched riot police
to disperse those who had gathered outside the office. A total of 45 Falun Gong practitioners were beaten
and arrested. Media outside of China astutely identified Luo Gan as the figure behind the violent
measures. The Tianjin municipal government then told those present that the order to quell the crowd had
come from Beijing, and thus encouraged the group to go to Beijing to report the matter.
News of the incident quickly reached Beijing. The persons then in charge of the Beijing Falun Gong
Research Society—among whom were Li Chang, Wang Zhiwen, and Ji Liewu—discussed the situation
and decided to lodge an appeal with the State Letters and Complaints Bureau on April 25. Those who
heard about the decision contacted one another, with the result being some 10,000 persons appearing at
the State Letters and Complaints Bureau—located adjacent to Zhongnanhai—that day. The episode,
known among Chinese speakers as “the April 25th event,” astonished persons everywhere.
At the time, Zhu Rongji had just returned from his visit to the United States. Zhu—who was himself
twice ostracized under Mao—by all appearances regarded the group’s effort to petition the government in
a positive light. He saw it as a sign of trust in the government. And just one year before he had himself
written a positive valuation of Falun Gong. So it was that Zhu did something in stark contrast to the
CCP’s manner of handling petitioners—the usual being not making contact, not dialoguing, and not
making compromises. Zhu came out of the Zhongnanhai complex to meet in person with the gathered
crowd.
Zhu told representatives of the group, “You are entitled to freedom of belief! If you have any future
problems, you can send representatives here to report them. Come with me into Zhongnanhai and let’s
talk about this.” Zhu paused for a moment and then continued, “I can’t possibly talk to so many of you all
together!”
As the Falun Gong group had come on something of a spontaneous, unplanned decision, most of those
present didn’t know each other and nobody had been selected to act as representatives. Zhu thus picked
the first three practitioners who raised their hands. As Zhu turned and led the three to towards the west
gate of Zhongnanhai, he asked in a loud voice, “Didn’t I write an instruction on the issues you reported to
me before?”
The practitioners were stunned. One replied, “We haven’t seen any instructions from you.” It was then
that Zhu may have realized his instructions had been shelved.
Zhu quickly changed the topic. “I’ll get the director of the State Letters and Complaints Bureau to speak
to you. I’ll have the deputy Secretary-General talk with you as well.” As Zhu said this he turned to his
staff and asked them to find the two figures.
The requests the Falun Gong petitioners presented that day were simple. One was that the Tianjin
government release the fellow practitioners it had just detained. The second was that freedom to practice
Falun Gong be ensured. The third was to once again allow Falun Gong books to be published in China.
Zhu Rongji instructed the Tianjin government to release the detainees at once.
The conversations that took place inside Zhongnanhai weren’t all that smooth, however. Luo Gan (then
the Secretary of the Committee of Political Science and Law), Wang Gang (Deputy Director of the
General Office of the Central Committee of the CCP), Jia Chunwang (Minister of Public Security), Cui
Zhanfu (Deputy Secretary-General of the State Council), and Meng Xuenong (Deputy Mayor of Beijing)
took part in the dialogue with Falun Gong representatives. They made no promises in the discussion,
because for one, Jiang Zemin hadn’t told them the bottom line as to how to handle the meeting, and
secondly, Luo Gan wanted to find fault with Falun Gong. Later Li Chang (an official at the Ministry of
Public Security) along with Wang Youqun (an official in the Ministry of Supervision) and three others
came to Zhongnanhai to join the dialogue.
Some 10,000 Falun Gong waited quietly outside Zhongnanhai as representatives of the group discussed
inside with staff from the State Council. The dialogue ended not until after 8:00 p.m. Upon learning then
of the release of those detained in Tianjin, the crowd outside the compound quietly left the scene. Not a
piece of paper was left behind. The group had gone out of its way to keep the site clean and orderly.
International media portrayed in a positive light both the Falun Gong demonstrators (for their composure)
and the government (for its open-mindedness). The event was seen as the first nonviolent, rational
dialogue to have taken place between officials and the public since the CCP had come to power. There
was no precedent for something like this in the Party’s history.
Had the tensions between Falun Gong and the state ended on this note, it would have undoubtedly been a
win-win situation. But there was one figure in particular who would have it otherwise. So otherwise, that
is, he flew into a rage. That person was Jiang Zemin.
7. Jiang Zemin’s Jealousy
Jiang Zemin’s jealousy towards the founder of Falun Gong, Li Hongzhi, dated back some time. As early
as 1993 Jiang heard often about Li.
There was a certain person who was close to Jiang who was very enthused about Falun Gong and knew a
thing or two about the practice. Each time he came back from Falun Gong activities that he had
participated in he would tell Jiang things such as “so-and-so was quite sick but fully recovered after
taking up the practice” or how “so-and-so had to be carried [due to illness] into the auditorium [where Li
gave a talk], but was able to walk out unassisted.” Occasionally the associate would say things to the
effect that Master Li revealed that somebody was a high-ranking official in his previous life. Jiang grew
ever more anxious upon hearing such things, for he wanted to know who he himself was in his last life.
One day while Jiang was napping in bed, eyes closed, he heard that friend enter. Jiang sprung from his
bed and anxiously asked, “Did Master Li talk about me? Did he tell who I was in my previous life?” He
told with regret that Master Li had never said a word about Jiang. The mixture of disappointment and
anger that showed on Jiang’s face made a deep impression on those present.
In 1994 Wang Yeping, Jiang’s wife, was herself practicing Falun Gong. One evening when she was doing
the practice’s exercises she sensed that someone was mirroring her movements. She opened her eyes to
discover that it was none other than Jiang by her side, surreptitiously emulating the movements. His
hands crossed before the abdomen, just as did hers. Jiang was both embarrassed and angry when he saw
Wang had caught on to him. It was at that point that Jiang ordered his wife to stop practicing Falun Gong.
He said, “Even my wife believes in Li Hongzhi. Who’s going to believe in me, the General Secretary of
the Chinese Communist Party!”
At the time Jiang loved to imitate Li’s gestures and movements. The most typical position he used was
that of the hands crossed before the abdomen. Jiang had used to let his hands dangle at the side when he
spoke in public, but later, after finding that Li usually kept his hands folded in front of the abdomen, he
followed suit.
In 1995 Jiang began to promote his theory of the so-called “Three Represents.” No matter how hard the
Central Committee of the CCP labored to popularize it, the country could only manage to feign sincerity
in response and few, if any, really studied it. By contrast, however, Jiang could find Falun Gong’s guiding
book, Zhuan Falun, just about everywhere. And he knew the number of Falun Gong practitioners to have
been growing at a torrid pace, much to his frustration. No words could describe the respect and gratitude
of those who had benefited physically and spiritually from Falun Gong towards Li Hongzhi. This was a
lot for Jiang’s ego to handle, but what irked him even more was the fact that from time to time somebody
brimming with admiration for Li would whisper to him about Li’s noble character and exemplary
conduct.
When Jiang was inspecting a dike during the 1998 flood he happened upon a group of citizens toiling
away as part of the relief effort. Jiang felt a sense of pride seeing them, and told his subordinates, “These
people must be Party members.” He greeted the group, only to learn that they were students of Falun
Gong. Jiang burned with jealousy. He turned his back to the group and left, his countenance sullen.
If these incidents were merely annoying to Jiang, then the events of April 25 were downright frightening.
Jiang was a part of the Tiananmen Square massacre as well as its biggest beneficiary. When in the spring
of 1999 the 10th anniversary of the Massacre was approaching Jiang, it is believed, worried that the mass
demonstrations of 10 years before would repeat. The Massacre not only left Jiang with power as the
“core” of the “red dynasty,” [6] but also a profound lesson: that he must suppress a movement while still
in its embryonic stages, lest suppression at a later stage—which comes at a much higher price—be
necessary.
It was thus that Jiang, on this day in April 1999, promptly called the Beijing garrison force and asked
whether the army stationed in Beijing could immediately march to the scene of Zhongnanhai and drive
off via force the surrounding Falun Gong adherents; this was to be done on the condition they didn’t
disperse by midnight. The one who answered the phone declared at once, “The Beijing Military Region is
prepared to follow Chairman Jiang’s orders at any time.” Jiang was most satisfied. He felt less on edge at
hearing this. Later Jiang would promote the person several ranks.
The afternoon of the gathering Jiang called You Xigui, Director of the Central Guard Bureau, and told
him to enact martial law as soon as possible. Jiang said he wanted to come out and personally “inspect”
the scene.
Jiang then went about “inspecting” the scene from behind the tinted glass of a bulletproof passenger
vehicle, in which he rode. Outside, in front of the Falun Gong demonstrators was the cordon set up
expressly for Jiang’s inspection. In Jiang’s eyes, that so many people practiced Falun Gong meant it was
competing with the Party for the masses; that Falun Gong students adopted a peaceful and reasonable
means of demonstration owed to their having a tight organization; and that the Falun Gong group would
come to Zhongnanhai was taken as an open challenge to Jiang. What drove his irritation especially was
that he saw at least a few dozen servicemen bearing military insignia who apparently followed Falun
Gong instead of, as he saw it, himself—the Chairman of the Military Commission of the CCP.
Coupled with this was the fact that international media reported in a positive light on both parties
involved in the event, which undoubtedly bolstered the merits of Zhu Rongji. This only served to fan the
flames of Jiang’s jealousy.
In October 1994, the CCP formally announced in its 4th Plenary Meeting that the “second generation” of
the CCP leadership group had completed its transfer of power to the third. Following the meeting Jiang
fought, with the assistance of Zeng Qinghong, several successful political battles. The first involved
ousting Beijing mayor Chen Xitong, after which Jiang then consolidated his power in the military. Soon,
with the passing of Chen Yun and Deng Xiaoping and the return of Hong Kong to China, Jiang had an
ever more firm foothold in the Central Committee.
All the same, Jiang lacked the boldness of a Mao Zedong, who often set himself up as the king of the
world. Neither did Jiang have the weight of a Deng Xiaoping, who was decisive. Every important issue
Jiang faced had to be discussed and approved by the Politburo or the Standing Committee of the
Politburo. Jiang came to see that the Falun Gong was a pacifist group that made a practice of turning the
other cheek, and as such he thought that in Falun Gong he had found a non-threatening rival. He thus
came to believe that he could, by way of suppressing the group, force all figures in the Party to take a
stand. He could finally see who was really on his side. What Jiang had in mind was a classic case of Zhao
Gao “calling a stag a horse.” [7]
Although there was no compelling evidence for Jiang to marshal, he nonetheless put everything at his
disposal into portraying Falun Gong as a “dangerous” political group that was supported by “hostile
overseas forces.” This imbued with much larger significance what was in reality a personal vendetta
against Falun Gong, turning it into a matter of survival for the Party. So if Jiang’s decision to suppress the
group was seen as an act to “save the Party at a critical moment,” he would surely enjoy an important
place in the history of the Party and encounter little opposition to the plan. Jiang believed that he could
swiftly eliminate Falun Gong within but three months, thinking that the means of suppression the Party
had gathered in past political movements were more than enough to destroy any man’s will. Jiang’s grand
plans counted on a successful, risk-free suppression, from which he would amass an enviable amount of
political capital within the Party.
8. Obstinacy
Taking a page from Mao—who launched the Cultural Revolution in 1966 with a letter, titled “Bombard
the central command”—Jiang wrote a letter to the Politburo the evening of April 25 without so much as
consulting a soul. He pretended to be gripped with anxiety in his letter, writing, “Can’t the Marxist theory
of our Communist Party and the materialism and atheism in which we believe defeat that stuff Falun
Gong propagates?”
To garner support for his decision among members of the Standing Committee, Jiang posed in his letter,
“Might [Falun Gong] in fact have connections with overseas and Western forces? Might it have been
manipulated and directed by a ‘master hand’ at work behind the scenes? This is a new signal, and we
must pay great heed. The sensitive period is fast approaching. We must take efficient measures at once to
strictly prevent similar events from unfolding.” Jiang then added, “We cannot underestimate the appeal of
religious organizations such as Falun Gong. The relevant departments must strengthen their research and
formulate precautionary measures. Since Falun Gong is headquartered outside China, we should not
exclude the possibility that this event was orchestrated by overseas forces.”
The letter was later printed and distributed as a notice from the General Office of the Central Committee
of the CCP. It stated in particular that, “Please note that this notice is distributed by the General Office of
the Central Committee and to be studied and implemented; it is not meant to solicit opinions or for
discussion and exploration.”
The day after the events of April 25, Luo Gan, Jia Qinglin, and members of the Standing Committee of
the Politburo held a meeting to discuss how the issue should be handled. Jiang had a ghastly look on his
face when he entered the meeting room. He pulled out a bundle of materials, heaved them onto the table,
and barked, “Who said no clues could be found as to the Falun Gong practitioners gathering at
Zhongnanhai? There was a notice on the Internet telling Falun Gong practitioners to gather at
Zhongnanhai. Over 20,000 who live in all different places entered Beijing by ‘breaking the whole into
parts’ and encircled Zhongnanhai in one day—a well organized event. And yet the public security
departments knew nothing of it beforehand. Such dereliction of duty cannot be allowed again!” Jiang
turned and looked at Luo Gan. He said with a stern voice, matching his glare, “Our security department
and the Beijing municipal government were so dense. Our power is in jeopardy and yet they sensed
nothing. Comrades, this is just horrible. If we don’t learn our lesson, how can we guarantee this won’t
happen again and again?”
From that time on Jiang began to pretend he had never heard of Falun Gong before. He would make
remarks such as, “When I heard the words ‘Falun Gong,’ other than thinking the term a little odd, I didn’t
know what kind of organization it was, how it came about, or who was its leader.”
Of the seven members of the Standing Committee of the Politburo, all but Jiang openly expressed
objection to the idea of a suppression. Zhu Rongji said, “Most of the Falun Gong adherents are middleaged or older people, and women at that. Their biggest aspiration is no more than to become healthy and
fit. One practitioner said, ‘Now our company doesn’t reimburse our medical expenses. Falun Gong can
make a person stronger and healthier—what’s wrong with it? And so many workers are laid off now.
Falun Gong can improve people’s moral character. Such people never cause trouble and surpass model
citizens. Why wouldn’t the government support an activity that’s so good?’ So I don’t think it is
reasonable to say these people have political motives. Moreover, we shouldn’t solve ideological problems
by means of a [Mao-style] political campaign. It’s detrimental to our greater goal of economic
development, and even more harmful to the image of our country as being open. If there are any bad
apples among the Falun Gong, then sure, we should deal with them. But let’s allow the ordinary
practicing populace to just be.”
Jiang immediately stood up, pointed at Zhu’s nose, and shouted, “Foolish! Foolish! Foolish! That would
spell the demise of the Party and the country! I’m so distressed that our comrades lack political
consciousness. If we don’t solve the Falun Gong problem right away we are making a mistake of
historical proportions!”
“So what does the General Secretary suggest we do?” Luo Gan asked cautiously.
“Exterminate it! Exterminate it! Decisively exterminate it!” Jiang flailed his hands, shouting. “The
priority right now is to determine Falun Gong’s population, distribution, and who is in charge. Every
organization or institution, every company and every resident’s committee must be investigated.
Comrades, Falun Gong is competing with us for the masses. We must understand this issue as a political
one—as one that involves the very existence of the Party and the nation. We must thoroughly investigate
it and show zero tolerance!”
Throughout the Politburo meeting Jiang was leaped up and down, shouting himself blue in the face. Other
members of the Standing Committee grew silent seeing Jiang so hysterical.
Actually Jiang had another reason for suppressing Falun Gong that he didn’t articulate. It was that Qiao
Shi supported Falun Gong.
Qiao Shi retired after the CCP’s 15th National Congress in 1997. It was he who disclosed to the world the
secret that Deng Xiaoping had appointed Hu Jintao as the core of the “fourth generation” leadership
group. That was to say, it dictated that Jiang must retire after the 16th National Congress and could only
pass his position on to Hu Jintao. No matter how badly Jiang might have wanted to renew his term of
office or choose his own successor, he wouldn’t be able to. On this account alone Jiang was against
anything Qiao supported. For instance, Yang Shangkun and his brother Yang Baibing had promoted 100
mid- and high-ranking military officers. Some of them didn’t belong to Yang Shangkun’s faction and
were promoted only for their outstanding work abilities. Jiang, in narrow-minded fashion, made sure that
every one of the group was later demoted. For example, He Qizong became a deputy Chief of Staff at the
age of 42. But merely on grounds that he was held in high-esteem by the Yang’s, Jiang sent He to the
Nanjing Military Region as a mere deputy Commander, his rank was reduced. He would never be
promoted again.
That same narrow thinking was behind Jiang’s desire to suppress Falun Gong and utterly wipe out the
group. It had to do with Qiao’s support.
Qiao not only concluded in 1998 that “Falun Gong has many benefits and does nothing to harm the state
or the people,” but in connection to the matter mentioned the Chinese adage that “whoever wins the
support of the people wins the world; whoever loses the support of the people loses the world.” This only
upset Jiang further. He then dashed off a comment, the main point of which was, “The report [by Qiao]
was vague in its contents. I don’t understand it.” He forwarded the report to Luo Gan. Luo Gan
understood Jiang’s intention, and it was thus that he constantly sought, with the excuse that Falun Gong
had a “foreign political background,” to create problems for the group and attribute blame to it.
Li Ruihuan strongly opposed the suppression of Falun Gong and expressed his objection on many
different occasions. Sadly he had no organizational support and occupied the largely powerless position
of Chairman of the Political Consultative Conference, so his words carried no weight. A popular jingle
circulating in China listed out the top four examples of idleness: the tycoon’s wife, [8] the leader’s
money, [9] the laid-off workers, and Li Ruihuan.
9. Using False Information as Grounds for Suppression
Jiang Zemin and Zeng Qinghong knew the huge political role that the intelligence system could play in
both seizing and consolidating power and attacking those with dissenting views. For this reason they all
along made an effort to control tightly the Ministry of State Security.
After Jiang seized the position of General Secretary of the CCP, he established, so as to control the
Ministry, a “team to study central policies” that would direct the Ministry in its collecting of information.
In 1997 Zeng became an alternate member of the Politburo and Minister of the Organizational
Department, and then arranged for someone from his faction to become the Minister of State Security.
Jiang and Zeng thus managed to gain a tight grip on the Ministry and could use it in the direct service of
their own political agenda.
The jealousy Jiang felt toward the popular Falun Gong ultimately blotted out his faculties of reason, and
he grew bent on suppressing the group. The other six members of the Standing Committee didn’t concur
with Jiang, however, feeling Jiang’s dislike was groundless. With Zeng’s help Jiang came up with an
effective way to force the other committee members over to his side. The two would use the Ministry of
State Security to fabricate alleged “evidence” that could justify a program of suppression. Soon special
agents of the Ministry stationed in the United States sent back the falsified information Zeng and Jiang
sought. They claimed that the founder of Falun Gong was supported by the Central Intelligence Agency
(CIA) and that the institution had furnished Falun Gong with tens of millions of dollars. This “significant
information about the enemy,” as it was called, was passed on to China’s top authorities through the
Ministry of State Security. The other members of the Politburo couldn’t determine the veracity of the
report.
Back in 1992, just before the CCP’s 14th National Congress was to take place, Jiang and Zeng had
conspired to instruct people on spreading rumors throughout Beijing alleging that Yang Shangkun and
Yang Baibing were attempting to “seize military power” and “redress the Tiananmen Massacre.” The
rumors played a key role in misleading Deng Xiaoping, who later removed the Yang brothers from the
Central Military Commission; it was that move which allowed Jiang to consolidate his position in the
military. The CIA story was thus more of the same tricks from Jiang and Zeng.
The CCP had over the years always guarded itself against and both feared and hated what it thought of as
“hostile forces.” So it was that Jiang, acting on the “conclusive evidence” from overseas, claimed that
Falun Gong would “spell the demise of the Party and the country” and must be suppressed at all costs. As
a result of Jiang’s conniving, the issue was inflated to one concerning the welfare of the Party and the
nation. Nothing does the CCP fear as much as its demise. And nobody wanted on his hands the
responsibility of the nation’s demise. How could the members of the Standing Committee now dare to
oppose Jiang’s suppression? Jiang thus managed to “unify” the group’s viewpoints and start up the CCP’s
violent, suppressive machinery with Falun Gong as its target. With the rumor they began, via the Ministry
of State Security, about Falun Gong being supported by the CIA, Jiang and Zeng managed to mislead not
only the people of China but many a foreigner as well. For example, the French have always been spiteful
of America’s leading position in the Western world and have often been in competition with the U.S. So
it was that the French at first blindly believed the CCP’s misinformation. Only later, after a long
investigation by its own intelligence system, did the French come to realize that the CIA rumor was bogus
and that they could let down their guard against Falun Gong. Today it is well known that Falun Gong is
independent of any political backing.
10. A “Turtle Hiding in Its Shell” [10]
On May 8, 1999, during NATO’s war with Yugoslavia, the Chinese Embassy (in Belgrade) was hit by
three missiles, resulting in the death of three reporters. The United States explained the bombing as a
mistake. China refused to believe this account.
After the bombing China’s military asked Jiang Zemin to put on his military uniform at once and make a
statement, as Chairman of the Central Military Commission, on television. Others suggested Jiang wear a
suit and lodge a statement of protest as the nation’s chairman and immediately summon the U.S.
Ambassador to China. The country’s top officials thus were quickly entangled in a quarrel.
The ever-timid Jiang was flustered by this. He had no idea what he should say or to what extent he should
protest. After discussing things with Zeng Qinghong he decided to hand off the knotty problem to Hu
Jintao. Hu was Vice Chairman of the nation then. Never would he be in the spotlight as such normally,
save for if the chairman’s health were in critical condition. The matter should have been handled by either
Jiang, the Chairman, or Zhu Rongji, the Premier of the State Council. Jiang and Zeng hatched a rather
nasty scheme, however, that would in effect kill two birds with one stone. If Zhu didn’t come to the fore
on this issue, China’s angry masses would naturally associate the bombing with Zhu’s “appeasement
diplomacy” and shift their anger to him; he could thus serve as a scapegoat. But on the other hand, Jiang
insisted that Hu Jintao act as the point person. If Hu’s attitude towards the U.S. came across as soft, his
reputation would suffer dramatically in the minds of an angry public. But were he to take too much of a
hard line, he would surely exacerbate already-tense Sino-U.S. relations. Erring in either direction could be
reason enough to stop Hu from succeeding Jiang as General Secretary at the 16th National Congress.
For the next two days Jiang was nowhere to be seen. Jiang’s response to the affair—or lack thereof—
aroused great indignation in China, for he was the nation’s Chairman and the Chair of its Central Military
Commission. It was only on the second evening that somebody—Hu Jintao—went on national television
and delivered a statement. As of the third day Jiang still hadn’t shown himself. Slogans such as “Jiang
Zemin—a turtle hiding in its shell,” “Our leaders must have all died” could be heard at the People’s
University of China. The nation as a whole was indignant.
____________________
Notes:
[1] In reference to the lopsided treaty China signed with Japan in 1915, meant to give Japan regional dominance over China.
[2] That is, Zhu had made decisions while in the U.S. contrary to the original orders given him by Jiang.
[3] There were no salaried positions in the practice, so the exercises were taught then, as they are now, by volunteers.
[4] Suggesting, that is, his alleged scientific prowess. The “two academies” refers to the Chinese Academy of Sciences and the
Chinese Academy of Engineering.
[5] U.S. News & World Report, Vol. 126, No. 7, Feb. 22, 1999, p.4.
[6] The term “red dynasty” is here meant as a reference to the CCP.
[7] A Chinese idiom meaning “to deliberately misrepresent.” Zhao Gao was an official of the Qin Dynasty (221–207 B.C.) who,
desiring to usurp the throne, referred to a stag as “a horse” in the presence of the second emperor of the Qin Dynasty. The move was
done to see which ministers would echo his inaccurate words. Those who refused to repeat Zhao’s off-base words met with
suppression by Zhao.
[8] Alluding to the widespread problem of the wealthy and powerful having mistresses.
[9] That is, those in positions of influence in China frequently wine and dine at the expense of taxpayers.
[10] A Chinese idiom meant to suggest the shirking of one’s responsibility for reasons, typically, of cowardice.
A number of major events transpired during the 15 years of Jiang Zemin’s rule (including the past two
years, post-retirement, in which he controlled state affairs from behind the scenes), among which are
counted the return of Hong Kong and Macau to China, China’s entry into the World Trade Organization
(WTO), and the suppression of Falun Gong. Of the events, only the suppression of Falun Gong was
spurred forward by Jiang, while the others happened either due to luck or as a result of other people’s
hard work.
When Jiang banned Falun Gong it was the beginning of his political downfall. One might say that after
Jiang became one of Beijing’s power elite on the heels of the Tiananmen Massacre, he methodically
consolidated his power through a series of brutal political struggles. But the suppression of Falun Gong
quickly became an albatross for Jiang. Jiang didn’t expect this in the least, anticipating instead that Falun
Gong could be swiftly crushed. Jiang’s political fate was tied to the campaign against Falun Gong from
the moment he went his own way in launching it. All of his decisions came to revolve around the issue.
Hard is it for those who reside in a mundane world to grasp the power of higher spiritual beliefs. Consider
that power as manifest in the early Christians, who never took up arms and outlasted 300 years of
persecution by the once-powerful Roman Empire. Jiang will, unto death, never admit that he made a
mistake in persecuting the followers of Falun Gong; yet their peaceful and composed fight over the past
several years has left him with no way out. To understand Jiang’s thinking and behavior post 1999 (the
year he began the ban on Falun Gong), it is necessary to first understand the persecution in a
comprehensive way.
1. Cooking Up Charges
After the April 25, 1999, gathering at Zhongnanhai, there was constant activity by Chinese authorities
involving Falun Gong, such as nationwide investigations on the part of the government, preparations for
the propaganda to be leveled against the group, mobilization of the Public Security system to seek out and
collect information on Falun Gong, and “ideological preparation” of the people at the various local Party
organizations. Jiang treated the Falun Gong issue as top priority.
Li Hongzhi, the founder of Falun Gong, had moved to the United States some years before, but Jiang
went so far as to try to extradite Li back to China through a reduction of $500 million in trade surplus
with the U.S. In an article called “Some Thoughts of Mine,” published on June 2, 1999, Li said:
I only teach people to be good. At the same time, I unconditionally help people get rid of their diseases
and health problems, and I enable them to reach higher realms of mind. I don’t charge any money or ask
for material things as reward. All of this has had a positive impact on society and its people, and it has, on
a large scale, turned people’s hearts towards goodness and made their moral level high. I wonder if that is
why they seek to extradite me. […] however, normally people who are extradited are war criminals,
public enemies, or criminal offenders. If so, I wonder which of the above categories I would fit into. [1]
Li also said:
In fact, I keep teaching people to conduct themselves with Truthfulness, Benevolence, and Forbearance as
their guiding principles. So naturally, I have also been setting an example. When Falun Gong disciples
and I have been criticized for no reason and treated unfairly, we have always displayed breadth of mind
with great benevolence and great forbearance, and have silently endured everything in order to give the
government sufficient time to find out what we are about. […] Actually, I know perfectly well why some
people are bent on opposing Falun Gong. Just as reported by the media, there are so many people
practicing Falun Gong. One hundred million people are indeed no small number. Yet why should having
a large number of good people be feared? Isn’t it true that the more good people there are, the better, and
that the fewer the bad people, the better? [2]
Even though Jiang could read all of Li’s well-intended words, he still couldn’t help assuming that others
acted like he himself did, being driven only by base, petty motives. Jiang thinks that it is impossible for a
person not to fear death and that anyone can be bought. He thought he could accomplish anything since
the mechanisms of the entire state were under his control.
On June 7, 1999, Jiang gave a speech at the Politburo meeting of the CCP’s Central Committee regarding
speeding up the effort to deal with and resolve the “Falun Gong problem.” In the speech, he described the
formation of Falun Gong and its rapid spread by saying, “This is a political struggle between the Party
and its enemies, both at home and abroad, over the [allegiance of the] masses and over the dominant
position.”
Jiang never provided any grounds for his argument or any account as to how he arrived at his conclusion.
And despite the fact that the Falun Gong always acted nonviolently and reasonably, and improved over
100 million people physically and mentally, he demanded with the weight of a dictator that all members
of the CCP and the Communist Youth League (CYL), cadres in the workforce, retired officials, leaders of
work units of the CCP and CYL organizations stop practicing Falun Gong and “draw a clear line in their
minds.”
Based on the reaction of the Politburo to his letter written on the evening of April 25, Jiang felt that on the
issue of suppressing Falun Gong, the majority of the Politburo members and even the Standing
Committee members were indifferent. Government leaders, including Zhu Rongji, felt it unnecessary to
treat the Falun Gong issue as a conflict between themselves and some enemy. Jiang thus decided to set up
an interministerial leadership group directly under his command, a group that would be above all other
government institutions. It wouldn’t be subject to restrictions by the government, the legal system, or the
fiscal system, being instead able to freely give orders to persecute the Falun Gong. It was along these
lines that Jiang thought of Li Lanqing.
At that time, of the seven Politburo Standing Committee members, other than Jiang all were against the
persecution campaign. It was then that Bo Yibo, a high-ranking CCP official with a terrible reputation,
learned of the members’ disapproval and thus, sensing an opportunity, came out strongly in favor of
Jiang’s decision.
Jiang around that time decided to persuade Li Lanqing to join his side, as he had a good personal
relationship with Li. Jiang threatened to label him as someone who doesn’t do things the “Party way” and
who is “ruining and betraying the Party and the country.” In the end Li was swayed, and agreed to Jiang’s
decision.
And so it was Jiang formed a leadership group so as to deal with Falun Gong however he willed. Li
Lanqing became the director of the group. And in order to harness both the power of the sword and the
power of the pen, Luo Gan and Ding Guangen were chosen as deputy directors. Jiang also appointed the
Deputy Secretary of the Ministry of Public Security, Liu Jing, and other relevant heads of departments as
key members of the group to combine wits and solve the “Falun Gong problem” systematically. Jiang
commanded that the CCP Central Committee and each ministry and commission, of every province,
autonomous region, and municipality that was directly under the central government, cooperate fully. The
group, or organization, was formed on June 10, 1999, thus gaining it the name “6-10 Office.”
As to its nature, the 6-10 Office is in every sense of the term an illegal organization. There is no legal
basis for either its formation or its existence. It is the same as the CCP Central Committee Leadership
Group, as it was called, that came about during the Cultural Revolution. The only purpose of the 6-10
Office is to bypass the law, bypass the normal examination and approval of funds and personnel, and
mobilize the entire country’s means of suppression to persecute the Falun Gong. The illegal
organization’s head is none other than Jiang Zemin. All of its orders are given in secret by Jiang, who
fears leaving evidence of his doings. When he sends out orders through the office he never signs his
name. Whenever people in the 6-10 Office see the special orders, however, they take immediate action,
knowing their origin.
It was by way of his autocratic powers that Jiang managed to circumvent the legal system and create the
6-10 Office—a body that presides over even the judicial organs at different levels. Jiang also pushed the
6-10 Office to coerce law-enforcement officials from the Central Government on down to the local level
to break the law, signifying a halt to the progress made by China’s legal system over the last 20 years.
The harm to Chinese society is immeasurable.
Though Jiang made such a fuss over Falun Gong, when it came to concrete ideas for what to do he was at
a loss. Jiang thus had Zeng Qinghong hatch a secret scheme to publish on June 14, 1999, a “Speech by the
Heads of the Letters and Complaints Bureaus under the General Office of the CCP Central Committee
and the General Office of the State Council after Meeting with Some Falun Gong Petitioners” through the
General Office of the CCP Central Committee and the State Council. The misleading remarks stated:
First, in the past few days, some Falun Gong practitioners have been spreading rumors such as “the Office
of Public Security is going to start persecuting Falun Gong” and “Communist party members and cadres
will be fired from their jobs if they practice Falun Gong” […] these are just vicious rumors, which are
fabricated and that poison people’s minds. […] Second, the attitude of the Party and the government
concerning normal activities for exercising the body and for fitness is very explicit. […] I want to
emphasize again: no normal exercising of the body for fitness has ever been banned by any level of the
government; people have the right to believe in and do a practice, and also the right not to believe in a
practice.
Looking back at the speeches—speeches shared with the nation by key members of the Chinese
government—it’s not hard to see that the CCP, headed by Jiang, can do a full about-face at a moment’s
notice. Nothing the Party says can be trusted.
As Falun Gong’s activities were, and are, all open to the public, its followers—who believe in the values
of truth, compassion, tolerance—weren’t on guard against the CCP media. Matters were complicated by
the presence of many police and special agents posing as Falun Gong adherents, the goal being to collect
information at countless practice sites of the group. The spies took pictures and made video recordings,
gaining personal information on the coordinator of each practice site.
2. The Suppression Begins
On July 19, Jiang called a meeting of the CCP Central Committee’s high-ranking officials and, acting as
the Party’s General Secretary, gave the order that the suppression be carried out. Over 10,000 police with
guns fully loaded entered Beijing while military stationed outside the city went into red alert mode. On
July 20, Jiang gave orders to carry out arrests throughout the country. All those deemed “key” Falun
Gong members were either arrested or taken from their homes for interrogation by the CCP. On July 29,
Jiang even tried to extradite the practice’s teacher, Li Hongzhi, back to China through Interpol. The move
was denied outright.
During the June 4 Tiananmen Massacre, the CCP first killed people with guns and tanks to silence them,
and then made full use of its propaganda machinery to spread lies about what had taken place. In a
climate in which there was only one voice many believed the CCP’s lies. Jiang believe the method would
work similarly when applied to Falun Gong. Jiang thus ordered the destruction of all Falun Gong books,
audio and video materials, and other paraphernalia. He also gave orders that any website that might carry
true stories and information about Falun Gong be blocked. Thus the only information on Falun Gong that
people could obtain was from the state-run media, which were fully controlled by Jiang.
Before the suppression began, Beijing Telecommunications Bureau provided a “263 service” through
which citizens could use the Internet by dialing the number 263; they needn’t register in any way or
provide names or use passwords. They could sign up for email addresses as well. However, when the
persecution campaign began, suddenly the 263 line was “unavailable” for 48 hours (due to the need for
“technical maintenance,” it was claimed), effectively cutting off a major line of communication between
those in China and the outside world.
Two days after the persecution began, on July 22 at 3:00 p.m., the lies that Jiang had carefully prepared
were exhibited in full. A 30-minute film, replete with bizarre stories and deception meant to denigrate
Falun Gong, was shown—again and again—across the country on national TV networks. One of the
things shown was as follows. In a talk on Falun Dafa Li Hongzhi gave in Los Angles in February 1999, as
evident in the original sound recording, one sentence said: “The catastrophes that people mentioned in the
past do not exist.” But in the TV program, the Chinese regime edited out the word “not” so that the
sentence was changed to its opposite: “The catastrophes that people mentioned in the past do exist.” The
CCP tried to use the sentence as evidence that Falun Gong is “apocalyptic.”
As of 1999, China’s GDP had reached 8300 billion yuan, and it had the largest army, armed police,
security guards, labor camps, and prison system in the world. China moreover had a propaganda system
of over 2,000 newspapers and magazines as well as over 100 broadcasting and television stations. Just
CCTV alone had 12 television channels, covering the entire country; through satellites its programs were
broadcast around the world. After July 20, overnight the nation’s propaganda machinery was ratcheted up
to full capacity for one single purpose: to make Jiang’s plan to eradicate Falun Gong “within three
months” a reality. Newspapers, magazines, broadcasting stations, and TV channels everywhere were put
into high gear, carrying a litany of articles and programs that “exposed and criticized” Falun Gong. Police
meanwhile drove the practitioners of Falun Gong away from every practice site, and those who wouldn’t
obey were arrested and shoved into police cars. All factories, businesses, schools, and neighborhood
associations were required to organize people to watch the news and feature programs dedicated to
criticizing Falun Gong. Chinese embassies and consulates around the world began organizing local
Chinese people to hold rallies to “expose and criticize” the practice and to deliver to governments around
the world materials that denigrated Falun Gong. Book burnings, the ransacking of homes, and arrests took
place throughout China. Almost everyone was coerced into following the government and supporting the
persecution, and propaganda was broadcast and printed in every corner of the country. Overnight, the
days of the Cultural Revolution seemed to have returned.
It is also important to note that during that time Jiang made use of Hong Kong media which had been paid
off to malign Falun Gong. Hong Kong’s Phoenix Satellite Television went to great lengths and was the
most insidious of the bunch. On the surface it seemed unbiased, neutral, but in truth, the CCP’s most
important propaganda articles and decrees were delivered to the station directly for broadcasting. Not a
single word was to be changed, and anyone who had misgivings about the propaganda campaign was
simply dismissed. The station’s staff knew that at critical times and on critical issues, Phoenix TV played
a role that CCTV could not.
Liu Changle, CEO of the Hong Kong-based Phoenix Satellite Television, was (or is) an undercover agent
under the Joint Chiefs of Staff of the People’s Liberation Army. [3] After the April 25, 1999, Falun Gong
gathering at Zhongnanhai, Liu was secretly sent by Luo Gan to collaborate with the pseudoscientist He
Zuoxiu. Starting as early as May 1999, Liu put forth a great deal of effort starting rumors and concocting
TV programs specifically meant to frame Falun Gong and its founder. He also published a book expressly
to discredit the founder of Falun Gong. Its contents would be almost humorous for their inaccuracy and
perversity were the consequences not so regrettable. Phoenix TV disguised its connections with the CCP
government by broadcasting popular programs that attracted regular viewers and, under the guise of
normalcy, used reports that seemed objective to in fact spread Jiang Zemin’s fabricated stories on Falun
Gong and influence public opinion. Many of the station’s viewers in mainland China and Chinese living
overseas were sorely misled. After these things transpired, a number of staff from Phoenix TV ran into
serious problems. Liu Changle was interrogated and investigated on grounds of reportedly having been
part of the financial crimes of the former president of the Bank of China, Wang Xuebin, as well as other
illegal activities; Zhao Liqun, deputy president of the station and the man responsible for Chineselanguage programming, died in a plane crash; one of the station’s hostesses was in a severe car accident;
and a reporter from its news department was kidnapped.
Since Jiang Zemin was exhausting the country’s resources with persecuting the Falun Gong, a number of
sociologists thought, “Given the power of the Chinese government, Falun Gong will last at most a week.”
Jiang was mistaken about something, however. He never understood that Falun Gong doesn’t in fact have
“key figures.” Even the so-called “assistants” in the practice were merely persons who brought to the park
tape players for people to exercise by or who would relay information about upcoming activities. Apart
from that, they differ little from other practitioners. Students of Falun Gong make a point of being a
functioning part of society, and each makes his or her own decisions based on the study of the
book Zhuan Falun and what he or she has come to understand from it. Jiang was thus misguided in his
belief that once the “people in charge” were arrested others wouldn’t know what to do. The mass arrests
and detentions that took place in effect caused only more people in Falun Gong to assume leadership
roles; more and more people grew committed to peacefully petitioning the government and explaining the
situation factually to the public.
From early morning on July 20 on, great numbers of Falun Gong practitioners poured into Beijing to
voice their grievances, file petitions with government leaders, [4] and assert their legitimate right to
practice Falun Gong. Consequently, from July 21 to 22 places near Zhongnanhai, Xidan, Liubukou,
Beihai, and Tiananmen were blocked off so as to prevent Falun Gong adherents from entering the area.
The 6-10 Office demanded that local governments block people from coming to petition at all costs, and
all major roads to Beijing were closely monitored. The army was on red alert. Yet many people still either
walked or bicycled over the mountains and hills to reach Beijing. Some were stopped by local police and
detained along the way while others managed to reach Beijing. But the tens of thousands who did make it
to the capital were promptly arrested—though they were exercising a constitutional right—and detained
in sports stadiums in Fengtai and Shijingshan.
In the several months thereafter, the number of Falun Gong practitioners who gathered to petition leaders
in the various districts of Beijing reached upwards of 300,000, while around 700,000 came forward to
petition on behalf of Falun Gong in Beijing’s suburbs, with many staying in the area for prolonged
periods. Among the petitioners were government officials, soldiers, scholars, students, businessmen, and
farmers, ranging in age from young children to senior citizens. Among the peasants some came from as
far as Sichuan, Yunnan, Heilongjiang, and Xingjiang Provinces; some were women who had never left
their hometowns before. Yet they traveled thousands of miles to petition their government. One case is
telling. A woman from the Changbai Mountains in Jilin Province was stopped and detained in Liaoning
Province en route to Beijing, and all of her belongings were confiscated. She managed to escape from
police custody and proceeded to walk, amidst snowstorms, across northeast China, begging for food along
the way. Eventually she made it to Beijing. One Sichuan farmer, meanwhile, was questioned by a
policeman in Beijing upon arrival. The farmer opened his bag and took out nine pairs of shoes. They were
shoes he had worn out as he walked to Beijing. He said, “I have walked such a long way only to say a few
words from the bottom of my heart: Falun Gong is good! The government is wrong!”
Two people known to have unfurled banners in protest in Beijing were officials at the rank of provincial
minister. [5] They, like others, were arrested by police. When their names and identities were confirmed,
the police were shocked, and quickly asked their work units to take them back to their areas. This not only
suggests that those who took up Falun Gong were from every strata of society, but also the fact that Jiang
Zemin was so despotic as to not even give consideration to the voices and concerns of such high-ranking
officials.
The petitioning system was put in place by the CCP after the Cultural Revolution to address the massive
number of wrongful verdicts enacted during the those tumultuous years. It is a unique Chinese institution
meant to facilitate communication between the masses and the nation’s bureaucracy, a final hope for
justice for the weaker segments of the population. In dealing with Falun Gong cases, however, Jiang
made six regulations that would prohibit Falun Gong and its supporters from petitioning higher
authorities. That is, he commandeered the system. Evidence is regularly found, such as in one recent
notice distributed by CCP authorities in the 6-10 Office of Shijiazhuang City. It was a notice concerning
how to suppress Falun Gong practitioners during the Chinese New Year in 2005. The notice included six
“preventative measures.” The last among them was, “to prevent Falun Gong practitioners from utilizing
legal actions and petitioning higher authorities in order to counteract [the suppression].” In effect, this
was saying that if a citizen was to express his or her grievances in accordance with the law it should be
seen as “counteracting” the government, and for doing so the person was to be arrested and sentenced.
Using the law to protect oneself was turned into, with this and similar measures, “violating” the law.
Measures such as these are some of the least known, but most sinister, that Jiang has used to persecute
Falun Gong. Jiang has gone off the beaten path of reform in this regard.
Jiang continues to insist that the most severe and extreme measures be used in dealing with those of the
Falun Gong who petition higher authorities—of which measures include fines, imprisonment, removal
from jobs, punishment of family, and implicating one’s work unit. What he has found hardest to
understand is that the Falun Gong practitioners who continue to petition and demonstrate are not swayed
by any of his measures. Jiang just can’t fathom that there are people in this world who will not give up
their beliefs for material gain or ease. The convictions held by Falun Gong’s followers also made Jiang
envy Falun Gong’s founder, the master Li Hongzhi. This only spurred Jiang’s eagerness to suppress
Falun Gong.
3. The Responses of Falun Gong and the International Community
While Jiang was actively mobilizing forces for the persecution, Li Hongzhi happened to be in Sydney,
Australia, attending what is known in the Falun Gong community as an “experience sharing” conference;
this one was hosted by students of Falun Gong from around the world. On May 2, 1999, Li met with
reporters from the Chinese newspapers Australian Chinese Daily, Independence Daily, and Yazhou
Zhoukan. In the afternoon he spoke with reporters from Australia’s Department of Radio and Television
Broadcasting, the Sydney Morning Herald, and Agence France Presse. Li said in his opening remarks:
I believe that this Dafa practice is a serious thing. Singing its praises in various media, as if doing
advertising, wouldn’t be serious, though, and so we haven’t done such things in print media. Basically,
students share news with their family and friends of their general well being, talking about their heartfelt
feelings and how their health has improved, or how after learning the teachings of Falun Gong they are
drawn to them. We wouldn’t lie to our own family or spouse about this kind of thing, so what is said has
to be true, people realize. You would never entice your own wife or kids, or family or friends to follow
suit after you were duped by something. That doesn’t happen.
Li also stated:
Many of our students are highly educated, and many are scientists; many hold Doctoral or Masters
degrees. In the U.S., for example, many of them—no fewer than a few thousand—have obtained multiple
degrees. Aren’t they smart? They are very smart. To elaborate, in mainland China many in our practice
are intellectuals, senior cadres, or even politicians. They went through the Cultural Revolution and they
have had a spiritual faith, have sought the truth, believed in things blindly, and gone through all sorts of
movements. Are these people dumb? Absolutely not. Then would they blindly follow or believe in
something? They definitely wouldn’t. [6]
Li’s comments dispelled the misgivings—of which there were several, this being soon after the April 25
gathering at Zhongnanhai—of many people outside of China. And that is why the first thing Jiang Zemin
did after launching the persecution of Falun Gong was to block all accurate information about Falun
Gong from entering the country.
On the day the persecution in China began, Li made public a statement calling for the support and help of
governments around the world, international organizations, and kindhearted people, asking for help
resolving the crisis unfolding in China. He expressed a wish that the Chinese government and its leaders
not consider Falun Gong’s practitioners as enemies.
Over the next several days Li spoke with reporters from various countries, stating and restating that Falun
Gong did not pose a threat to any political regime and instead could only benefit a government, a country,
or a people. On July 22, Falun Gong’s Clearwisdom website published a letter Li had sent to the Central
Committee of the CCP and government leaders. In the letter he called on the Chinese government to
refrain from adopting measures to persecute the innocent adherents of Falun Gong and to instead solve
the problem through peaceful dialogue. He predicted that the violent, reckless persecution of the group
would eventually bring disaster to the country and its people—something no good person would want to
see happen.
Along with the peaceful petitioning by anywhere from 100,000 to a million Falun Gong adherents in
China, support for the group also came from practitioners around the world. After the events of July 20,
many devotees decided to gather at the United States capitol to meditate and peacefully petition the
Chinese consulate in the U.S. Over the next two weeks adherents would reach out to the American
government, congressmen, media, and consulates of countries around the world located in the United
States, informing them about the suppression in China. The hope was a simple one: that these persons and
groups would speak to the Chinese government on behalf of the persecuted.
Governments of the free world and human rights organizations responded promptly. Between July and
December 1999, many statements were made strongly condemning the CCP’s campaign—a campaign
that violated human rights and freedom—and calling for the release of jailed and detained victims.
Statements were made by the Canadian government, the World Federation of United Nations Association
(WFUNA), and the Senate and House of Representatives of both Australia and the United States.
4. The CCP’s Decision-Making Body
Starting from the time when the signal was given to commence the suppression, the one who held the
highest real government position, Premier Zhu Rongji of the State Council, didn’t show his face on
television. For two weeks, in fact. One day mid-August that year (1999), the state-run CCTV broadcast
news of Jiang having an informal discussion about the State Owned Enterprises (SOEs) turning things
around and overcoming financial problems. Usually it would have been Zhu’s place to comment on
helping the SOEs to come out of financial difficulty within three years (as was said); it was Zhu, after all,
who had formulated the admirable plan. Now even this domain had been ceded to Jiang. It seems that Zhu
had grown by this time so jaded and dejected that he was throwing in the towel.
In August, in his report to the National People’s Congress on work related to the “Three
Emphases,” [7] Li Peng said, “When it comes to Falun Gong people, don’t try to determine what they did
or didn’t do in the past. The key is to look at whether they have changed their outlook on things. I have to
make this point clear to my comrades. Don’t turn this internal conflict within our people into a conflict
with ‘an enemy’—we have to be judicious.” Clearly and purposefully was Li Peng distancing himself
from Jiang’s policy of suppression.
Members of the Politburo had similar views. What aggravated Jiang was that other than a few places,
such as Shandong and Liaoning Provinces, many cities and provinces weren’t interested in carrying out
the persecution. They followed orders outwardly, but when it came down to it, they were derelict. In some
cities and provinces in southern China, such as Guangdong, up until the end of 1999 statements such as,
“The vast majority of Falun Gong practitioners are good people,” and “Not one practitioner will be
sentenced in Guangdong,” were heard. Hu Jintao, the heir apparent to China’s throne, and Li Changchun
only handled the matter passively and with little enthusiasm. They weren’t willing to go down in history
as shameful persecutors, like Jiang.
Jiang felt he had no choice but to make a special trip to Guangdong Province in February 2000 so as to
supervise in person the campaign against Falun Gong there. He criticized Guangdong for being “weak
and incompetent in the suppression,” and forced Li Changchun (the province’s Party Secretary) to
perform self-criticism at a Politburo meeting. Jiang also sent a personal fax to the Shenzhen municipal
Party committee, telling them things such as to “defend the front.” Under pressure from Jiang and Luo
Gan, Guangdong Province in the end began sending Falun Gong adherents to forced labor camps. Of the
first batch of followers sent to the camps, one was a college classmate of Hu Jintao, named Zhang
Mengye. Someone told Jiang, “You killed two birds with one stone. You set a precedent for the
persecution in Guangdong—if even Hu Jintao’s classmate is fair game, then who isn’t? At the same time,
you gave Hu Jintao a bad name [in some people’s minds] for selling out his classmate when everything
was on the line.”
Jiang led the charge single-handedly and made a big showing of it. Many in the central government
looked on, however, as if watching the performance of a court jester.
5. Coercing Zhu Rongji
Bo Yibo noticed the stalemate regarding the suppression and thus gave Jiang an idea, saying, “The
government hasn’t been putting forth enough effort on this matter. This is related to the fact that Comrade
Rongji hasn’t emphasized it or publicly taken a stand.”
There was a saying circulating among the masses at the time: “Marxism has to be summed up in volumes.
Mao Zedong’s ideology is summed up in books, Deng Xiaoping’s in articles, and that of Jiang Zemin in
mere words. Each generation is a mere shadow of the one before it.” True enough, Jiang’s theories of the
Three Emphases and Three Represents amount only to a few dozen words. They don’t make for much of
an “ideology.”
After the persecution of Falun Gong began, Zeng Qinghong began to popularize the Three Emphases
theory on a large scale. Jiang considered the theory a great opportunity to bolster his own image. As Zeng
saw it, Zhu—who had met with Falun Gong practitioners during the April 25 gathering—needed to take a
stance now, lest outsiders think there were dissenting views in the CCP. Zeng also thought that because
Zhu had such reputation and prestige, if he were to support the persecution the Chinese people would be
won over to Jiang’s side on the issue and the hopes of the petitioning Falun Gong practitioners would be
dashed. The Three Emphases campaign was a great opportunity, Zeng realized, to coerce Zhu into taking
a stand.
After Zeng shared his analysis with Jiang, Jiang had Zhu come to speak with him. The message he
conveyed to Zhu was that the campaign to promote the Three Emphases wasn’t garnering enough
support. Zhu needed to regard the effort, he was told, as one of safeguarding the position of the ruling
Party and should thus be given its due attention. Jiang accused Zhu of “not following the overall political
situation” and “harboring antagonism towards the Party Central Government’s policies and only passively
paying them lip service.” He warned Zhu to take heed, that the most important of the Three Emphases
was “stressing politics,” and that right now the suppression of Falun Gong was the most important
political issue. Jiang said, “Comrade Rongji, the CCP requires that the State Council not only ‘stress
politics,’ but stress it thoroughly. We should popularize the Three Emphases and integrate the ideology
with the ‘most important political issue’ at hand—anything less would be an act of dividing the Part!”
After leaving Jiang’s office Zhu was visibly taciturn. Not long afterward Zhu did take a stance in support
of Jiang’s decision to persecute—a stance at odds with his own convictions. Perhaps he didn’t want to
suffer the pain of being labeled a “Rightist.” Or perhaps he thought about the pitiful predicament of Zhao
Ziyang.
The Three Emphases didn’t really have any material impact. A saying going around at the time, which
played on the meaning of Politburo members Wu Guangzheng and Wei Jiangxin’s given names, [8] was
telling: “You talk about politics, studying, and an upright nature, yet in the end no official is upright; you
are against embezzlement, corruption, and moral decline, yet in the end nothing proves to have worked.”
In Three Kingdoms period (220–280 A.D.) the cruelty and malice of tyrant Sima Zhao were widely
known, but Sima could get away with it to a certain extent in that he had help in the form of Jia Cong
doing his dirty work for him. Mao Zedong started the Cultural Revolution but put Lin Biao, Jiang Qing,
and Zhang Chunqiao out in front to do the dirty work. When it came to the rather moronic move to
persecute the Falun Gong, however, nobody was willing to do much for Jiang. Jiang wasn’t able to hide
behind the scenes as the other figures had. Instead he had to rush to the forefront at every stage. He has
revealed time again that he is the one to blame. It was he that wrote the letter to the Politburo the night of
April 25, 1999, just as it was he—China’s top leader—who at the September 1999 APEC conference in
New Zealand stooped to handing each head of state a small pamphlet maligning Falun Gong. Jiang was
hopeful that the heads of state would do what he often denounced others for doing—to meddle in China’s
“internal affairs”—and express approval of his suppression. But Jiang ran into a wall on this occasion.
Clinton’s government, by way of the U.S. Commission of International Religious Freedom, had already
made public in its Annual Report of Sept. 9 its condemnation of the suppression of Falun Gong by
China’s regime. Less than three months later, in a speech on human rights, Clinton publicly criticized
China for persecuting the Falun Gong. He called the arrests of adherents “a troubling example” of human
rights violations. Not one head of state dared to say Jiang’s persecution campaign was reasonable. Upon
seeing to what little effect his pamphlets worked, Jiang accused other countries of “interfering with
[China’s] internal affairs” and being “anti-China.”
6. The Celebration That Wasted Manpower and Money
The CCP continued its propaganda against Falun Gong on a daily basis. In its national news program, at
least one piece of news each time was designated to discredit the Falun Gong. This lasted for over two
months. This stopped abruptly for several days on the occasion of the CCP celebrating the fiftieth
anniversary of its coming to power. CCP officials wanted the public to feel that the political climate was
stable and harmonious.
It was Jiang, the CCP’s General Secretary, who was most eager in regard to the fiftieth anniversary
celebration. He wanted to have a huge portrait of himself placed next to that of Mao Zedong and Deng
Xiaoping on the main anniversary day; he wanted to feel as if king of the world, if even for a day. He also
wanted to have the army, navy, and air force march before him—just as Deng had done on the 35th
anniversary ceremony—and enjoy the feel of being Chairman of the Military Commission. Jiang further
wanted to see on Tiananmen Square banners with slogans reading things such as “Rally Around Comrade
Jiang Zemin, the Core of the CCP Central Committee.” He wanted his power declared to the world.
Initially the Politburo of the Central Committee set a rule that the scale of the fiftieth anniversary
celebration should be similar to that of the 35th anniversary. In its implementation the guideline was,
however, cast aside. Before the celebration Zhu Rongji called upon Zeng Peiyan, Minister of the Planning
Commission, and Xiang Huaicheng, Minister of Finance, and asked them to provide details of the budget
for the celebration. When he learned that the total cost would be 180 billion yuan (US$22 billion) and that
this included plans for elaborate ceremonial tributes, giving raises to public servants and retired staff, and
creating new infrastructure for the celebration Zhu was furious. Zhu could only bite his lip, not uttering a
word. Later he said to his staff, “I am the Premier, and yet cannot administer anything. The big projects in
Beijing are just wasting manpower and capital. They are completely unnecessary. But can I put a stop to
them? If this were the United States, forget a 50th anniversary, let’s say it was even a 100th anniversary,
would anyone dare to do this [kind of irrational spending] in Washington, D.C.? Whoever tried to do
something like this would get kicked out. Can all of the people’s money be spent on the capitol?”
Jiang, by contrast, said, “I think the celebration needs to have the look of great power. When it comes to
activities celebrating the fiftieth anniversary, we need to think about their political impact rather than be
limited by finances. And also, we do now have the state resources to pull it off.”
But even if China’s state resources could accomplish the feat, was it necessary? The money that Jiang
lavishly spent on the project could have paid for roughly 100 Project HOPE’s; [9] the educations of over
200 million students; or the daily needs of the 30 million unemployed for a year. [10]
When Jiang and his entourage drove across Tiananmen Square and Jiang imitated Deng Xiaoping,
shouting “Hello, Comrades,” he was clearly not as confident as Deng. For Jiang knew that when Deng did
the same, students from Peking University had hoisted banners reading “Hello, Xiaoping” on them and
that Deng was supported by the nation’s people, or at least its peasants. This time around, when Jiang
held his celebration, some 100 million citizens (the Falun Gong) had just been made enemies. They
amounted an enormous number, never mind those counted among their friends and family.
7. The Suppression Intensifies
The suppression had begun almost three months before the ceremony. Around the time of the event,
Falun Gong practitioners poured into Beijing to petition the central government. Jiang couldn’t
understand how the Falun Gong practitioners, people who seemed weak and easily subjugated, had such
an indomitable spirit.
The evening after the ceremony, Jiang went to find Zeng Qinghong. He said to Zeng, “Nowadays the
news briefings we get have information every day about Falun Gong petitioning. Not long ago I ordered
the Bureau of Letters and Calls to arrest and take away those who petitioned, but now the Falun Gong
practitioners who come to Beijing go directly to Tiananmen Square and do their exercises in protest.
There are people from each province every day, and this puts us on the defensive internationally.”
Zeng responded, “Right now, be it members of the Politburo Standing Committee, members of the
Politburo, or officials at various levels of the Party, the vast majority are quite negative about the
suppression. I suggest the following. First, let’s hold the top leader of each region responsible and fire
him if the number of Falun Gong petitions exceeds a certain limit for his region. Second, Shandong
Province has the most people coming to petition. Tell Wu Guanzhen that we will remove him from his
posit as Shandong Party Secretary and take away his membership in the Politburo if people from his
province continue to petition. If his efforts in Shandong are effective, however, tell him he might be
considered for membership in the Standing Committee of the Politburo at the 16th National Congress.
Third, Hu Jintao’s attitude on this is quite vague, and Li Changchun—who we had originally designated
as the fifth generation successor—is not working hard on the suppression in Guangdong Province. We
must take measures.”
After seeing Zeng off, Jiang urgently called for and met with Lu Yongxiang, President of the Chinese
Academy of Sciences. Jiang hoped that the Academy could organize a group of academics to promote
“science and atheism” as a means of criticizing Falun Gong. Lu Yongxiang reported that a group of
academics headed by He Zuoxiu, Zhuang Fenggan, and Pan Jiazheng were trying to associate with
various religious figures so as to form an official group to “expose and criticize” Falun Gong, spread
atheism, and “intensify the campaign of criticism.” Jiang wasn’t impressed by the names Lu dropped, and
asked him to work on China’s most accomplished scientist, Qian Xueshen.
At that time there were many persons in academe who in fact practiced Falun Gong. Many professors and
students from the eight universities in Beijing’s Haidian District and from the Chinese Academy of
Sciences had in fact participated in Falun Gong’s April 25 gathering. As the Chinese Academy of
Sciences is the nation’s highest institution for scientific research and education and has a significant
impact on China’s society, Jiang decided to promote his eldest son, Jiang Jingheng, to the position of
Vice President in the Chinese Academy of Sciences. This despite the fact that he had worked as President
of Shanghai Metallurgy Research Institute for just three months—far below normal qualifications.
Usually in China a newly-minted Ph.D. in a scientific or technological field first does post-doctoral
research and later becomes a lecturer; from there he would move up to the rank of an associate professor
and later full professor; in time he would come to advise doctoral students, publish a number of papers,
and head up his department; finally he would become president of the institute at which he works. Only
the truly outstanding in China—all of whom have climbed a ladder of this sort—can become members of
the Academy. Yet Jiang Jingheng hadn’t made any contributions to his academic field. Promoting him
directly to the position of vice president of the Chinese Academy of Sciences was anything but
appropriate. But since it was Jiang Zemin who proposed the move, Lu Yongxiang had no choice but to
fulfill the “request.” Thus it was that Jiang Jingheng—who had not so much as been a professor for a
single day—became a leader of the Chinese Academy of Sciences.
Lee Yuan-tseh, President of Taiwan’s Academia Sinica and a Nobel Prize laureate, turned his nose up at
what Jiang had done. Someone wrote at the time, “If Taiwan were returned [in terms of governing] to
mainland China, and Academia Sinica merged with the Chinese Academy of Sciences, it’s a given that
they wouldn’t allow the head of Academia Sinica—a provincial level organization in their eyes—to
become the head of the mainland’s Academy. So while it would be hard enough for someone of Lee
Yuan-tseh’s caliber to be a subordinate to [the academically inferior] Lu Yongxiang, how much more
insufferable would it be for him to be of the same status as Jiang Jingheng!”
Just before Jiang Jingheng was to assume his new position as Vice President of the Chinese Academy of
Sciences in November 1999, he established (in October), using father Jiang’s connections, a company
called China Netcom Corporation. If initially he was driven by the high profitability of the telecom sector,
it could be said that after China Netcom Corporation was up and running he turned his attention to sealing
up China’s Internet.
Falun Gong has a large number of accomplished scientists among its following, many of whom live
abroad. A significant proportion of its overseas adherents have masters degrees or have pursued even
further studies; many have doctorates, are professors, or are even department chairs. This is particularly
the case in North America, where followers often use cutting edge technology to break through websites
blockages set up by Chinese authorities and communicate with China’s Falun Gong. Their efforts have
not only allowed the international community to learn about the oppression unfolding in China, but also,
reciprocally, have allowed persons inside China to know about the international support for Falun Gong.
Chinese authorities forbid such information from being accessed in China.
8. Hands Stained With Blood
Quite a number of retired high-ranking officials, such as Qiao Shi, felt terrible about Jiang’s suppressive
campaign. Qiao had made an investigation into Falun Gong in 1998 and concluded that the practice and
its followers were, in every sense, a benefit to the nation and its people. Sentiments such as this,
combined with pressure from other nations and the increasing numbers of domestic petitioners, led to the
topic of stopping the persecution and offering Falun Gong redress coming up at a 1999 meeting of the
Politburo.
Jiang was extremely displeased upon learning of this. If Falun Gong were offered redress it would mean,
to the entire nation, that Jiang had erred. Who wouldn’t know that the persecution was initiated by Jiang,
and who would thus be the natural scapegoat?
Zeng Qinghong told Jiang that if he wanted to silence the dissenting voices in the Politburo he would
have to intensify the suppression. Bo Yibo pitched in with additional advice, “The reason nobody talks
seriously about redressing the Tiananmen Massacre is that so many were killed that it would be
impossible to redress. Once it were redressed, our Party would be over.” At that point the suppression of
Falun Gong had not reached the extent of the Massacre; the Politburo members wished to scare Jiang and
strip him of power. Bo said, “I suggest you first kill some Falun Gong practitioners. Once it involves
lives, they will rethink the costs of redressing it. Second, we need to have members of the Standing
Committee and members of the Politburo speak openly in support of the crackdown, such that everybody
could potentially be held responsible [were the matter to be redressed]. Third, it’s not enough to declare
that the Falun Gong Research Society was an illegal organization. We must categorize it using more
serious terms and have civilians come to believe that practicing Falun Gong is indeed a crime.”
Jiang took Bo’s suggestions to heart. Several days later, in Wu Guanzhen’s territory, Zhao Jinhua from
Zhangxing County (of Zhaoyuan City), Shandong Province, was shocked with electric batons, beaten, and
tortured in other ways until she was pronounced dead (on Oct. 7, 1999); this was done on grounds that she
wouldn’t break from her practice of Falun Gong. The police were following orders from above and trying
to force Zhao to “recant.” As they beat and tortured her, they pressed her as to whether she would still
practice Falun Gong. She replied that she would keep saying “I will” unto death. Zhao became the first
case known of a Falun Gong practitioner being tortured to death. On Oct. 25, when Jiang was interviewed
by Le Figaro, a French newspaper, he referred to Falun Gong as a “cult”—a new twist in the Party’s
rhetoric—and said that the National People’s Congress would soon vote on a bill to prevent and crush socalled “cults.” At almost the same moment, over a dozen Falun Gong practitioners from Shenyang City
and Beijing were holding up a banner on the north side of Tiananmen Monument, in Beijing. The banner,
more than five meters long, was emblazoned with red characters on a white background, reading, “Falun
Dafa Practitioner Lodge a Peaceful Petition.” Within 15 seconds more than 20 uniformed and plainclothes
police had surrounded and assaulted them with kicks and punches. The practitioners were quickly
whisked away.
The next day most of the major media in the West reported something that enraged Jiang. They reported
that a dozen-plus Falun Gong practitioners had made it through layers of police surveillance and held a
press conference in a hotel in the suburbs of Beijing. They told the international reporters of their
experiences doing Falun Gong and of the physical and spiritual good it brought them; they also discussed
the reality of the brutal suppression they faced in China. Many reporters who were stationed in Beijing
attended the press conference and reported accurately. Jiang was in France at the time. Upon learning the
news he screamed, “Tell Luo Gan to resolve this immediately. Round up all of the Falun Gong
practitioners who attended the conference and have them killed! I refuse to believe that we can’t finish off
Falun Gong!” In the years that followed most of those who attended the conference were sentenced to
prison, put into forced labor camps, or have gone missing. Two persons, Ding Yan (32 years old) and Cai
Ming (27 years old), are known to have been killed.
In the first three months during which Falun Gong adherents were being unlawfully arrested several were
tortured to death. As Jiang thought about the tremendous pressure he was facing from the international
community, he realized that he had overlooked something while plotting the persecution: he had not
established a legal basis for arresting and charging Falun Gong’s followers. After all, the Falun Gong
issue was one of faith and freedom of thought, and existing laws didn’t cover crimes of thought, only
actions. If Falun Gong were to be “finished off,” Jiang believed, this hole would have to be plugged.
It was thus that on Oct. 30, 1999, a National People’s Congress incited by Jiang put forth a decision to
punish alleged “cults.” To the international community, particularly problematic about the matter was that
Jiang used the legislation—itself purely ideological—to order Chinese courts to retroactively sentence
Falun Gong adherents who had been arrested as long ago as July. There are two basic principles of
contemporary law: first, if the law does not designate something specifically as a crime, it cannot be
considered a crime; and secondly, laws cannot be applied retroactively. Or put more simply, as long as
the law does not call something a crime, one cannot be convicted for it; and new laws cannot make a
person guilty for actions committed before the laws were enacted. Jiang wanted, however, to use laws
made in October to convict persons for actions carried out in July or earlier.
There’s a Chinese saying about a “sharpshooter” who supposedly “hit the target each time he shot.” His
secret, though, was merely to shoot an arrow first and then draw circles around the arrow on the target
board. One could say this is what the CCP did with Falun Gong, and it is by such means that it has
maintained its status as “great, glorious, and correct.”
It should be pointed out that even today, Chinese law has not banned Falun Gong. Even though Jiang
ordered the Ministry of Public Security to publish an announcement with “six bans” (such as banning
persons from doing Falun Gong or petitioning the government on its behalf) the Ministry of Public
Security is not a legislative body. The “six bans” thus have no legal validity. Furthermore, the Anti-Cult
legislation that the People’s Congress passed in October 1999 cannot legally be used to convict Falun
Gong adherents for being “cult members,” for when a law is created, it can only designate
certain behaviors as being in violation of the law, not a certain group of people by dint of their identity.
Whether someone is convicted or not should be decided during trial by a court; and the court, at that, is
meant to determine whether or not the said person has violated some part of the law. The rhetoric
denouncing Falun Gong as “a cult” has come either from Jiang or the People’s Daily—neither of which
has legislative power. Little can their claims be used as a basis for court rulings. Yet regrettably this is
what has happened.
Not long after the anti-cult move, Luo Gan acted on a prompting from Jiang and gave orders that Beijing
Intermediate Court hold a court session on Dec. 26, 1999. In the session former members of the Falun
Gong Research Society Li Chang, Wang Zhiwen, Ji Liewu, and Yao Jie were sentenced to prison, the
longest sentence being 18 years. The trials invoked the recently-enacted, yet invalid, “laws.” More
troublesome still was that Luo purposely chose the second day after Christmas as the court date, knowing
this would help to evade international scrutiny; most Western journalists would be away from Beijing on
vacation. What’s more, they arrested all of the 300-plus practitioners who had applied to be present at the
trial after the court date was announced, and even sent some of them to forced labor camps.
9. WTO Negotiations
Jiang urgently needed a way to improve China’s relations with the West and to quell popular discontent
over the suppression. It was for this reason his thinking turned to the WTO.
Jiang called a meeting of the Politburo before a U.S. delegation was to arrive in Beijing. At the meeting
Jiang said, “We must not have any illusions about the U.S. giving in as soon as we get a little tough.
Clinton might not care much and sign the agreement with us, but as for the U.S. Congress, they won’t
agree to it. In 1997 and in April of this year, when Comrade [Zhu] Rongji visited the U.S., simply
because of the U.S. Congress getting in the way the WTO agreement was not signed. We must now
continue our efforts. Necessary concessions may be unavoidable.”
Jiang always took China’s entry into the WTO to be a good opportunity for bolstering his own image.
Thus it was when Zhu Rongji negotiated with the U.S. delegation that Jiang was at work behind the
scenes. All concessions in the negotiations were made with Jiang’s personal endorsement. The
concessions that Jiang made in order to gain WTO accession were far more than those proposed by Zhu
during his April visit to the U.S. On Oct. 15, when both sides finally signed the agreement, Zhu drew
upon a lesson he had learned—that “great achievements make one’s boss feel insecure”—and didn’t
attend the signing ceremony. Nor did he attend the celebration party held at Zhongnanhai that night.
Newsweek magazine commented that the WTO agreement made Zhu Rongji “an invisible man.”
Jiang Zemin, on the other hand, attended the party with glee and received the U.S. delegation. He was
aglow with delight, and said, “People are in high spirits when happy things take place.”
Jiang’s happiness didn’t last long, however. While he was spending the bulk of each day working on his
suppression campaign of Falun Gong, it seemed that no matter how much effort he made—whether it was
sending diplomats to lobby or giving heads of state booklets maligning Falun Gong—the international
community wasn’t buying into it. Telling was that on the evening of Nov. 18, 1999, the U.S. Congress
passed Concurrent Resolution 218, which called on the Chinese government to stop persecuting Falun
Gong. The next afternoon the U.S. Senate passed a sister resolution, Resolution 217.
The resolutions stated that Falun Gong is a form of personal belief that promotes peace and eschews
violence, and that the CCP’s ban on Falun Gong not only violated China’s constitution but also The
International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights and The International Covenants on Human Rights.
It went on to say that thousands of Falun Gong practitioners who had stuck to their beliefs or asked the
international community for help had been arrested, inhumanely treated, and even, in some cases, tortured
in police custody. The resolutions urged the CCP to immediately stop persecuting Falun Gong and asked
the U.S. government to make every effort, through various channels, both official and unofficial and
including the UN Human Rights Commission, to strongly call upon the CCP to immediately release all
imprisoned Falun Gong believers, to stop all inhumane treatment and oppression, and restore these
persons freedom of belief as stipulated by the Chinese Constitution.
Jiang Zemin went his own way in deciding to ban Falun Gong. The resultant tragedy was disastrous for
China and terrible for the world. The French prophet Nostradamus wrote the following, interestingly, in
his book of prophecy, Centuries: “In the year 1999, seventh month, from the sky will come a great King
of Terror.” On July 20, 1999, the solar system presented a celestial image that could only signify disaster:
the nine planets aligned to form a massive cross. It was exactly that day that Jiang’s regime began its
suppression of Falun Gong. Jiang declared at the time, “I just don’t believe that the Communist Party
cannot defeat Falun Gong.” Since that day, some six years now, China has been enmeshed in calamity.
Financial and material resources of astronomical proportions have been squandered by Jiang in
suppressing Falun Gong. And the suppression continues today. Falun Gong’s followers have been
resolute about opposing the injustice on their own, peaceful terms, and working to inform the world as to
the injustice that has befallen them. They have held their ground, just as their principles, despite
continued tumult around them. They have not retreated or disappeared. Meanwhile, beyond China’s
borders, Falun Gong has spread widely, with constant support being extended its way around the world.
____________________
Notes:
[1] See http://www.falundafa.org/book/eng/jjyz2_02.htm.
[2] Ibid.
[3] Liu served in the PLA as early as during the Cultural Revolution, and is a native of Jiang’s main turf, Shanghai.
[4] The petitioning system, explained later in this chapter, is an avenue provided by the government to Chinese citizens to express
grievances they wish to see redressed.
[5] Out of concern for safety, their names, as with many others, will not be stated here.
[6] Interview at the International Convention Center, Sydney, Australia. May 2, 1999.
[7] For discussion of the Three Emphases, see Chapter 8, section 6.
[8] The former meaning “upright official” and the latter a homophone for “proven to work.”
[9] Project HOPE is a prominent charity organization in China that offers medical and educational assistance.
[10] That is, calculated at 500 yuan per person per month.
Vladivostok, Chabarovsk, Nerchinsk, Sakhalin Obl, the outer Xing’an Mountains, Sakhalin Island, the 64
villages east of the Heilongjiang River—these names can never be erased from the minds of China’s
people. These vast and fertile lands in the northeastern parts of China, inherited from ancestors of the
Chinese nation, now stand as a source of pain and humiliation for most every Chinese citizen.
Dec. 9 and 10, 1999, are two days of disgrace that the Chinese people will not soon forget. During those
two days, China’s Jiang Zemin and Russia’s president, Boris Yeltsin, signed in Beijing the Narrative
Protocol on Eastern and Western Sections of the China-Russia Boundary between the Government of the
People’s Republic of China and the Government of the Russian Federation. The lands covered in the
Protocol, which could have been returned to China in the same manner as Hong Kong and Macao, were
given away to Russia by Jiang. The move, done behind the backs of the Chinese people for Jiang’s own
purposes, ended prospects of further development.
As is well known, for nearly a century Sino-Russian border disputes have been constant, with war
erupting in fact in the 1960s. If the treaty had brought a peaceful settlement to the century-old disputes it
would have been a monumental event, something that would have put Jiang—a self-aggrandizer who this
time purportedly wanted to form a strategic partnership—in the media’s spotlight.
Coverage of the treaty signing in the People’s Daily (carried in its Dec. 11, 1999, edition) only amounted
to a brief sketch of no more than a few dozen words. Robert Kuhn’s book, meanwhile, didn’t so much as
mention the event. Odd is this, of course, for an event that should have had major bearing on the nation.
There is not even a trace in Kuhn’s book about the Beijing meeting between Jiang and Yeltsin. Then we
might ask: why would Jiang wish his biographer and the state press to avoid such a major meeting as this,
even rewriting history?
The answer lies in the fact that the treacherous treaty Jiang signed masks several alarming, behind-thescenes deals that took place. The Protocol that Jiang signed ceded more than 1 million square kilometers
of precious land—an area equal in size to that of three northeastern China provinces combined or dozens
of Taiwans. Jiang also agreed to give Russia the exit point of the Tumen River, cutting off northeast
China from the Sea of Japan.
Several chunks of land in northern China were lost in the deal, among which were the Waixing region, an
area of more than 600,000 square kilometers south of the outer Xing’an Mountains and south of the
Heilongjiang River; the Wudong region, an area of more than 400,000 square kilometers east of the
Ussuri River; the Tuva region, of 170,000 square kilometers; and Sakhalin Island, with its 76,400 square
kilometers.
The new Protocol refuted the Treaty of Nerchinsk, an equitable border treaty signed by China and Russia
after Chinese soldiers won a bloody war in the years of Emperor Kangxi (ruled 1661–1722). In addition,
Jiang’s signing had the effect of recognizing all inequitable treaties that had been made between China
and Russia, including the Treaty of Aigun (1858), the Treaty of Beijing (1860), and others; previous
Chinese governments—including the Nationalist (KMT) government and previous Communist
administrations—had refused to recognize them. The new protocol went further in permanently giving to
Russia controversial lands Russia had occupied by force. These lands included the Tuva Region, an area
of about 170,000 square kilometers (equal to Guizhou Province) that was made a Chinese territory by a
UN General Assembly vote in 1953; the 64 villages east of the Heilongjiang River, an area of 3,600
square kilometers (three times the size of Hong Kong) and one even the inequitable Treaty of Aigun
(1858) had posited as Chinese territory; and Sakhalin Island, a territory of 76,400 square kilometers
(twice the size of Taiwan) that was under China’s jurisdiction in the Jin Dynasty and officially
incorporated into China by the Treaty of Nerchinsk.
Successive Chinese governments in the past had fought hard to resist the invasions of Russia, and no
previous governments since the establishment of the Republic of China recognized the inequitable
treaties. Furthermore, China’s communist rulers had at one time stated and insisted that “all the previous
governments of China have never recognized the borders imposed by imperialist forces, and neither shall
the People’s Republic of China.”
The legal basis for that stance is the Vienna Convention on the Law of Treaties, whose Article 52 dictates
that any treaty “concluded under the threat or use of force” is invalid. An array of treaties that ceded
territories and the paying of reparations signed by China with czarist Russia and the former Soviet
Union—such as the Treaty of Aigun, the Treaty of Beijing, and Sino-Russian Treaty on Northwestern
Boundary—were typical inequitable treaties, each signed under the threat of force, and thus not legally
valid. Another unlawful agreement was the Treaty of Shimonoseki (1895), which was signed after the
Qing government lost the Sino-Japanese War of 1894–1895 and permanently ceded Taiwan and the
Pescadores Islands to Japan. Since the Treaty of Shimonoseki (1895) was an inequitable treaty, the
Government of the Republic of China regained sovereignty over Taiwan after Japan was defeated in the
Second World War.
If the Treaty of Shimonoseki (1895) serves as a precedent, then the Chinese government has had ample
grounds for asking the return of the lands ceded to czarist Russia and the former Soviet Union. The Lenin
Government of the former Soviet Union had itself officially acknowledged that these territories belonged
to China and had intended to return them, affirming a legal basis for China to reclaim the lands at a later
time.
As for the Chinese territories such as the Tuva Region, the 64 villages east of the Heilongjiang River, and
Sakhalin Island for which the two sides had not signed treaties, inequitable or otherwise, China has had
even more solid legal grounds for their reclamation. But instead of trying to get them back, Jiang—
incredibly—chose to give them away. It is for this reason, Chinese persons familiar with the facts call
Jiang the “biggest traitor in modern Chinese history.”
To make matters even worse, the treacherous treaties Jiang signed practically ended the potential for
further growth of China as a nation. The vast and fertile lands bequeathed from past generations,
bountiful in forests and rich in minerals and oil, stood as important resources in the potential growth and
development of China. Of China’s 9, 600,000 square kilometers of land, deserts and desertified areas
constitute around 33 percent of all land, while seriously-eroded land accounts for roughly 38 percent.
Less than one-third of all land is thus habitable. The population in China has shifted from the Yellow
River valley towards the Yangtze River in the south and the coastlines in southeastern China, with
nowhere to move further but the oceans. Meanwhile, as China’s population continues to grow arable land
only continues to shrink and the country’s ecology continues to deteriorate. China’s land is fast
approaching the limits of sustainability. The expansive and rich land Jiang gave away was, in many ways,
the hope for China’s future development. In this light Jiang has does nothing short of sever China’s path
to the future.
Few people understand why Jiang would sign a treaty as treacherous as this. In Chapter Two of this book
the answer was, in fact, provided. If Jiang’s identity as a special agent in the Far East—an agent recruited
by the KGB, that is—were ever brought to light, both he and the CCP would probably fall from power
overnight. And in fact, this is precisely why the CCP has not sought to hold Jiang accountable for the
blunder, even after it discovered his backroom dealings.
Sino-Russian territorial issues, involving a mix of complex antipathy rooted in the past and feelings of
nationalism, have always been pointed. In view of the fact that treason such as Jiang is guilty of is no
minor matter, a full chapter (such as this) is in order that provides a detailed account of Jiang’s bizarre
decision. The issue is herein discussed in terms of its historical background, what international law has to
say, the impact of the cession on China, and the untold reasons at work. Possible solutions to the problem
and other matters will similarly be considered. What will become clear is that Jiang, out of self interest,
offered virtually free land to Russia that China could have instead recovered. Land, that is, which the
former Soviet Union had once intended to return and that is of vital strategic importance to China in terms
of development. What Jiang’s move has brought China goes beyond disgrace to matters of the nation’s
future well being.
1. Territorial Sovereignty
Russia, a nation that historically didn’t share borders with China, began its aggression and expansion
during its czarist era. The Russian aggressors who invaded the northeastern parts of China and occupied
Yaksa and its surrounding areas in the Heilongjiang River valley committed murder, arson, rape, plunder,
and most every crime imaginable. In 1685 China’s Emperor Kangxi sent troops to recover the lost
territories, conquering Yaksa twice and forcing the casualty-plagued Russian army to surrender. On Sept.
7, 1689, czarist Russia and the Qing Dynasty government signed the Sino-Russian Treaty of Nerchinsk
after negotiations in Nerchinsk. According to the treaty, China and Russia were divided by the Gorbitsa
River—a stretch reaching from the Gorbitsa River along the outer area of the Xing’an Mountains to the
sea—and the Erguna River, with Russia on the north and China to the south. The treaty was concluded by
China and Russia on the basis of equality and could be used as a legal framework in Sino-Russian border
negotiations. However, the treaty was completely annulled in the hands of Jiang Zemin.
The Qing governments after 1840 were corrupt and weak, and czarist Russia seized the opportunity to
intrude into China. A review of all the unfair treaties China signed with western powers after the Opium
Wars (1840–1842) points to the fact that while provisions of ceding territories and paying reparations
were not rare, no other country annexed as much Chinese land as Russia. Worse still, as most Chinese
lands occupied by other countries were returned to China in the aftermath of World War II, the former
Soviet Union was the only exception: it not only failed to return an inch of land, but even continued to
annex and nibble away at China’s territory.
Over the course of its invasions, czarist Russia signed 17 inequitable treaties with China, three of which
took the most land from China—a total of more than 1 million square kilometers. These were the Treaty
of Aigun (1858), the Treaty of Beijing (1860), and the Sino-Russian Treaty on the Northwestern
Boundary.
The Treaty of Aigun (1858)
The Second Opium War broke out in October 1856 (the sixth year of the Xianfeng Period). In May 1858,
the British-French alliance took Dagu, threatening Tianjin and shocking Beijing. The Russian Cossack
army, led by Muravyov, the governor of eastern Siberia, seized the opportunity to advance to the outskirts
of Aigun. On the pretext of assisting China against the British attacks, Muravyov, escorted by two
gunboats, entered the city of Aigun to negotiate with Yishan, the general from the Qing Dynasty who was
stationed in Heilongjiang. He demanded the invalidation of the Sino-Russian Treaty of Nerchinsk and the
right to occupy the area north of the Heilongjiang River and east of the Ussuri River. General Yishan
gave in under the threat of force from czarist Russia, and was forced to sign the Treaty of Aigun with
Muravyov on May 28, 1858.
The three articles in the Treaty of Aigun provided that more than 600,000 square kilometers of Chinese
territory north of the Heilongjiang River and south of the outer Xing’an Mountain area be ceded to
Russia, while China was allowed to maintain residence and jurisdiction in a small area southeast of the
upper reaches of the Zeya River near Aigun. The Chinese territory east of the Ussuri River was to be
administered by China and Russia jointly, and only Chinese and Russian vessels would be allowed to
navigate on the Heilongjiang and Ussuri Rivers—waters originally Chinese.
It should be noted that the Qing government did not give its approval to the Treaty of Aigun, and
afterwards disciplined General Yishan along with others.
The Treaty of Beijing (1860)
In October 1860 (the 10th year of the Xianfeng period), the British-French alliance invaded and occupied
the western suburbs of Beijing. Emperor Xianfeng fled with his empress, concubines, relatives, and high
officials to the palace in Rehe. Prince Yi Xin, the emperor’s brother, stayed to negotiate peace. Anxious
to have peace, Yi Xin asked the Russian minister in China, Igonadiev, to be the mediator. Igonadiev
seized the opportunity to pressure the Qing government to agree to his territorial claims. On Nov. 14, Yi
Xin signed the Sino-Russian Treaty of Beijing under coercion. In addition to recognizing the Treaty of
Aigun, the Treaty of Beijing converted the joint administration of Chinese territory east of the Ussuri
River to sole Russian ownership, and stipulated that the western Sino-Russian borderline be redrawn. In
this way, China lost about 1 million square kilometers of its land in the northeast. With about 400,000
square kilometers of the coastal area from the Heilongjiang River to the Tumen River now owned by
Russia, China had furthermore lost its access to the Sea of Japan.
The Sino-Russian Treaty on the Northwestern Boundary
Czarist Russia started coveting the western parts of China in the early 19th century. During the years of
Emperor Daoguang’s reign (1782–1850), czarist Russia occupied the seven-river region southeast of Lake
Balkhash, including the Kelatale River and the Yili River. In the fourth year of Emperor Xianfeng’s
period (1854), Russians took Alma-ata by force and seized the area in the lower reach of the Yili River. In
September 1864 (the third year of Emperor Tongzhi’s period), the Qing government, faced with the
Russian army bearing down on the border and a domestic rebellion from Muslims in the Xinjiang region,
started negotiations with the Russians at Tacheng. Under the threat of force and political blackmail by
Russia, the Qing government was forced to sign the Sino-Russian Treaty on the Northwestern Boundary
on Oct. 7. Through the Sino-Russian Treaty of Beijing and the Sino-Russian Treaty on the Northwestern
Boundary, Russia seized three large lakes in western China—Lake Balkhash, Zhaisang Lake, and Issy
Kui Lake —and their neighboring areas for a total of 440,000 square kilometers. [1]
Other Inequitable Treaties
Czarist Russia forced the Qing government to sign the Sino-Russian Treaty of Yili in the 10th year of
Emperor Tongzhi’s reign (1861–1875), and later between the eighth to the 11th year of Emperor
Guangxu’s reign (1887–1908) it again coerced the Qing government to conclude five protocols on border
surveys with a view to redrawing the Sino-Russian western borders. Through the Sino-Russian Treaty of
Yili, czarist Russia annexed the Chinese lands northeast of Tacheng and west of Yili and Kashiger, a total
of over 70,000 square kilometers.
Lands Taken by Force
In addition to taking Chinese lands through treaties that forced agreements upon corrupt and weak Qing
governments, czarist Russia also used force to annex areas that were designated in treaties as Chinese
territories.
On July 24, 1900, czarist Russia, on the pretext of the outbreak of the anti-imperialist Yihetuan
Movement, besieged 64 villages east of the Heilongjiang River—a Chinese territory according to the
Treaty of Aigun—with 170,000 troops. All told some 160,000 Chinese were slain, with many women
being raped before being killed. Most of the victims were burned to death, and less than half of the
population was able to escape. Russian soldiers chased down and killed those who tried to run towards
the bank of the Heilongjiang River; they were ultimately either shot or drowned, their blood reddening the
waters. The 64 villages east of the Heilongjiang River were from then on occupied by czarist Russia.
The chief culprit of the bloody massacre in the 64 villages was Czar Nicholas II. At the funeral for
Nicholas II held by Boris Yeltsin, Jiang Zemin, instead of lodging a complaint and protest as one might
expect, tried to ingratiate himself with Yeltsin. An eager Jiang even went so far as to greet Yeltsin with a
large, intimate hug, much to the Russian leader’s embarrassment. Jiang’s display, caught on film by a
western journalist, couldn’t have been more sordid. Jiang, moreover, went to Russia himself to attend a
memorial ceremony for Cossack murderers who had killed numerous Chinese citizens. And it was he who
personally ceded the 64 villages east of the Heilongjiang River to Russia in the Protocol.
Sakhalin Island, the largest island in China, is located to the east of the Heilongjiang River. It borders the
Sea of Okhotsk on its east and north, overlooks the mainland through the Tatarskiy Straits on its west, and
conjoins with Japan through the Perouse Strait to the south. The island, with an area of 76,400 square
kilometers—twice the size of Taiwan—has been under Chinese jurisdiction since the Jin Dynasty. The
Sino-Russian Treaty of Nerchinsk of 1689 also affirmed China’s ownership of the island. In 1789 a
Russian expeditionary force invaded the island and drove out its native inhabitants—the Hezhe people (of
the Xianbei nationality)—taking exclusive control of the coal and oil deposits on the island.
The Tuva Region, a narrow strip to the northwest of Mongolia and sandwiched between the Sayan Ridge
on the north and Tangnu Mountain to the south, has a total area of 170,000 square kilometers—the size of
China’s southwestern Guizhou Province. Russia plotted its independence in the 1920s, and then included
the island within its own boundaries in 1944. From the Chinese governments of the Qing Dynasty all the
way through to the KMT government and the Communist government under Mao Zedong, none
recognized the independence of the Tuva Region, whose population was predominantly Chinese. In 1953
the UN General Assembly decided through a vote that the Tuva Region was Chinese territory.
Positions of Various CCP Regimes
Territory is an extremely sensitive issue in China, and thus no leaders in China’s modern history dared to
act rashly and officially recognize the inequitable treaties signed in the past.
According to the Vienna Convention on the Law of Treaties, treaties signed under the threat of force have
no validity. Previous Chinese governments had thus, in this light, never recognized the inequitable treaties
discussed above. In 1972 Mao Zedong officially informed the Soviet Union, through its embassy in
Beijing, of China’s decision that Beijing categorically rejected nine of the 17 inequitable treaties that
czarist Russia had imposed on China. After mainland China regained its seat in the United Nations, Mao
similarly told the UN that China did not accept the nine unfair treaties. “The Soviet Union—both its
czarist empire and the red Soviet Union—has taken too much of our land,” said Mao to Nixon when the
two met in 1972. “These occupied lands are too numerous to count. Some Chinese governments, such as
the KMT government and the governments in the Qing Dynasty, have made more statements than I in this
regard. What I am reclaiming now are the parts least claimed under international law and those that
clearly belong to China based on historical facts,” Mao said.
In October 1978, a spokesman for Beijing pointed out that between 1960 and 1969, Soviet Russia took
away 185 square miles of Chinese territory; another 1080 square miles were taken from Yili, in the
Xinjiang region, in the years between 1972 to 1977. He added that in addition to the disputed areas,
Russia occupied by force 3,475 square miles of Chinese land. China revealed on Sept. 29, 1979, that the
areas contested by Russia and China in 20 districts of the Xinjiang region were between 11,600 and
29,696 square miles in size. On Jan. 8, 1982, Li Xiannian stated that Russia held all the disputed areas
along the Sino-Russian border, which amounted to 90,000 square kilometers.
A brief review of history reveals that from the years of czarist Russia on through the USSR, Russia made
a regular practice of seizing Chinese land, both by scheming and by force. Neither the KMT government
nor the Communist government under Mao ever dared to recognize the treaties associated with these
losses or the legitimacy of the Russian occupation.
2. The Soviets Once Intended to Return the Occupied Lands
Both czarist Russia and the Soviet Union after the October Revolution of 1917 had deliberately planned
to invade and occupy China’s territory, the only exception being the time when the soviet communists
first took power. Vulnerable to the risk of being stamped out by powers from the West, the newborn
regime led by Lenin wooed China into helping resist its enemies by way of offering to return land in
China it had come to occupy.
In a declaration to China issued in 1919, Lenin pronounced, “all the lands taken, by means of aggression,
from China’s Manchuria and other places during the times under the governments of the former Russian
empire shall be forsaken.” On Sept. 27, 1920, the Soviet government stated again, “all the treaties
concluded with China by the successive Russian governments in the past shall be invalidated; all the
lands taken from China and all Russia’s concessions within China shall be forsaken; and everything
savagely taken from China by the czarist government and Russian capitalist class shall be returned to
China permanently without any conditions.” [2]
Lenin died before he could fulfill his promises. After Stalin came to power, he first denied that the
declaration made to China existed and then tried to silence the witnesses through murder; Levin Karahen
was thus killed on the charge of treason. It had been Karahen who, as deputy minister of the people’s
commission on foreign affairs, signed the declaration.
But regardless of whether Stalin acknowledged the declaration, both nations had to adhere to it, as it was
an officially signed legal document. Yet incredibly Jiang, after coming to power, overturned the
declaration and quietly ceded the lands to Russia when instead they should have been returned to China.
3. Signing a Treaty Before Negotiating
From the time that China introduced reforms and started in the late 1970s to open up, Jilin Province had
sought to gain access to the sea at the Tumen River. Access would have far-reaching effects on economic
development in the province and play a critical role in advancing its economy.
So as to hasten gaining access to the sea, the provincial government of Jilin invested heavily for several
years in improving the province’s infrastructure (covering municipalities, roads, and railroads in Huichun
City and surrounding areas) and conducted a number of negotiations with Russia. Owing to the fact that
the “Treaty Ceding Tumenjiang” was an inequitable treaty, after more than three years of efforts by Jilin
the coastal frontier region of Russia announced its intention to cooperate with China and build a harbor.
But, just as the smooth negotiations were about to enter the critical decision-making phase, Jiang Zemin
privately signed his treacherous agreement with Russia—the “Protocol on the Eastern Section of the
Boundary between China and Russia.” The move left China’s negotiators dumbfounded. With the Tumen
River’s entry point to the sea now virtually sealed off, the strategic plan on which the people of Jilin had
pinned so much hope amounted to but a pile of waste paper.
A Chinese representative who participated in several negotiations on Sino-Russian cooperation on the
Tumen River’s point of entry to the sea said angrily, “Throughout the talks we fought hard based on
reason and by quoting authoritative documents. Unexpectedly, at that decisive meeting [which took place
in parallel to China and Russia negotiating and signing Jiang’s protocol], the Russian representative, who
was levelheaded and moderate at first, turned inflexible upon receiving a call. He then refused to
cooperate with us. The negotiations that had been favorable up to that point suddenly ran aground.”
The Chinese representative later learned that China and Russia had just signed the land treaty and that the
Chinese government had not found time to notify its people. Russia, however, had informed its
representative immediately, and it was thus that he promptly toughened his stand. The Russians who were
present at the negotiations were reportedly surprised to see Jiang so readily sign the Protocol.
The strategy to “open up the frontier and gain access to the sea” that Jilin Province had worked toward for
five years—investing a great deal of human, material, and financial resources—was now reduced to
naught.
The “10th Five-Year Plan for the Economic and Social Development of Jilin Province,” a lengthy report
formulated by the government in Jilin after the Protocol was signed, didn’t dare to mention a word about
its former aspirations.
4. Jiang Robbed Each Chinese Citizen of One Mu of Land
According to Article 7 of China’s Law on the Procedure of the Conclusion of Treaties of 1990, six types
of treaties cannot be signed by the president directly; rather they have to be approved by the Standing
Committee of the People’s Congress. Among them, the first type relates to “political treaties on friendly
cooperation and peace” and the second is associated with “treaties on territory and border demarcation.”
Common sense is here all it takes to understand the following. First consider that Jiang Zemin ascended
to the top of China’s political leadership not by the choice of the people but by the choice of a few: he
was picked to rule by conservative CCP elders. As such, hardly could it be said Jiang had the right to sign
treaties on behalf of the Chinese people. Or further consider that China’s territory belongs to all of the
nation’s people (is it not, in name, the People’s Republic of China?), not merely Jiang. As such, on a
matter as important as deciding the ownership of China’s land, not even examination and approval of the
Standing Committee of the People’s Congress should be enough: such matters should be brought to the
attention of the nation at large and, when necessary, a referendum should be held.
Far from that, however, China’s people have been kept in the dark about the recent treaty on the SinoRussian border that Jiang signed. Up to this day hardly any know what took place.
The overemphasis on economic development by China’s communist government has caused resulted in
chronic environmental problems. The arable land in China has decreased from two mu per person in the
1980s to at present 1.4 mu per person, and it continues to shrink. Most of the 1 million square kilometers
of land given away by Jiang were fertile. A well known song in China portrays the rich land in the three
northeastern provinces of China this way: “My hometown is in the Songhua River area of the northeast,
where, in addition to forests and coal mines, vast fields of soy beans and sorghum can be found…” And
the land ceded by Jiang was even richer. As some people vividly described it, “Oil would come forth with
just a squeeze” of the soil there. Based on a formula in which one square kilometer equals 1,500 mu, it
could be said that Jiang robbed each of China’s 1.3 billion citizens of one mu of fertile, arable land.
5. Security Risks for China Caused by Jiang
Lin Zexu, a great patriot and hero of modern Chinese history who was exiled by Emperor Daoguang to
the Xinjiang region, discovered czarist Russia’s ambition to invade China. Months before he died, Lin
cried out to the nation, “The ultimate threat to China is Russia! I am old and you must be aware of it.”
Sadly—owing to Jiang’s treachery—ours is the generation that has seen Lin’s fears played out.
Troops Pull Back, Large Areas Defenseless
Jiang, in his capacity as Chairman of the Central Military Commission (CMC), ordered the withdrawal of
Chinese border troops such that 500 kilometers of the border was left without any defenses. The areas for
Russia, Kazakstan, Tajikistan, and Kyrgyzstan which were left undefended, however, reached a mere 100
kilometers from the border (the exception being a few areas along Russia’s coastal frontiers). At the 100
kilometer line and beyond, the four nations have deployed a total force of, by one account, 130,000 troops
(120,000 of which are Russian), 3,900 tanks (90 percent of which are Russian), 5,800 armed vehicles (90
percent of which are Russian), 4,500 pieces of artillery, 290 fighter planes, and 434 helicopters. But
China can only deploy troops 500 kilometers from the border.
The above secret was revealed in 2002 by Viktor Litovkin, a military commentator for a Russian news
agency. He wrote an article that revealed Russia to be the major winner in the protocol deal, contrary to
what some Russians had alleged. Litovkin’s interpretation was indeed accurate, for if war were to break
out, the Russians and others could launch their attacks from a mere 100 kilometers from the border while
China could only respond from a distance of 500 kilometers.
Litovkin’s article disclosed, “To strengthen mutual trust in the military zone, Beijing took a series of
unprecedented measures and undertook unilateral obligations. Specifically it agreed that in the areas
along the borders with these countries, no troops, except border personnel, would be deployed within 500
kilometers of the borders. For Russia and a few other countries in the Commonwealth of Independent
States, ‘the defenseless area’ along the border is 100 kilometers wide.”
The article, as if teasing a vulnerable opponent, stated, “The ‘inequality’ in the different applications of
100 and 500 kilometers in width with respect to the ‘defenseless areas’ of Russia and China lies in a
simple fact, and that is, the reason we could not withdraw our troops 500 kilometers from the border as
the Chinese did is that the cost would be too high for us […] China expressed an understanding of the
circumstance.”
The defenseless areas for Russia are all wild forests and a military pullback would not cost much, while
the defenseless areas for China contain many expensive military installations. Destruction of the latter
would cost China dearly. Why did Jiang not go for an “equal” treaty? A Russian withdrawal was said to
be costly. Well, what of China’s pulling out? China is not that rich either. And even if she were, signing a
lopsided, scandalous treaty of this nature would make little sense.
Litovkin’s article revealed for his Russian readership the bottom line, writing, “The reduction of
[Russian] forces on the frontiers with China, especially when its expenses are compared with those spent
on military withdrawals from Eastern Europe and the three coastal states along the Baltic, would cost us
virtually nothing.”
In other words, Russia and the federated republics of the former Soviet Union are fully armed with more
than 100,000 troops deployed on the border, while Jiang rendered China defenseless. What’s left then in
terms of national defenses?
The Chinese troops deployed on the border, filled with indignation upon learning of the treaty, refused to
follow the withdrawal order. Jiang then redeployed all of China’s northern defense troops who knew the
truth to the southern Fujian Province, wishing to please Russia by effecting a quick pullout. What, then,
was behind Jiang’s rash acts? Kuhn’s book indirectly answers this question.
In Part 2 of Kuhn’s book, covering the 1989–1996 period, ironically titled “Leadership,” Kuhn explains
that Jiang was in a politically precarious position at that time. In Chapter 14 he writes, “Jiang built on his
growing momentum with a series of strategic moves.” [3] “He held a conclave of General Staff officers
and regional commanders to plan defense strategies; the deeper agenda was ensuring the army’s loyalty
after the wave of far-reaching personnel changes.” [4]
The passages in the above chapter lay bare Jiang’s fear. Jiang, afraid that Deng would strip him of power
at any moment, tried to establish his base in the military by offering military ranks to officers and bribing
the army. Jiang further hoped that he would get help from Russia and other neighbors in consolidating his
power. These are major reasons why a power-hungry Jiang secretly signed an unequal treaty that left
China defenseless for fully 500 kilometers within its borders.
Geopolitics
Owing to geographical reasons, Russia has always coveted Chinese land and sought opportunities to
annex China’s territory as well as collect information on China in the name of “cooperation and
exchange.” In the 22nd year of Emperor Guangxu’s reign in the Qing Dynasty (1896), czarist Russia, in
the name of common defense against Japanese hegemony in Asia, gained rights to build the Zhongdong
railroad; its means were forcing the Qing government to sign the Sino-Russian Secret Treaty, also known
as the “Treaty on Alliance of Defense.” The line was to extend from Siberia through Heilongjiang and
Jilin Provinces all the way to Vladivostok. Its purpose was to “conquer policy through the railroad” and
bring Russian influence into the northeastern parts of China by including the Mongolian-Manchurian
region—of which Heilongjiang and Jilin were parts—in its sphere of interests. The ultimate goal was to
annex the three northeastern Chinese provinces. The scheme fell through as a result of the RussoJapanese War of 1904.
In early 1945 when the Second World War was approaching its end, the former Soviet Union, the United
States, and Great Britain held a summit at Yalta. At the summit the U.S. and Britain urged the Soviets to
send troops to northeast China so as to expedite the surrender of the Japanese. Stalin seized the
opportunity to coerce the KMT government to recognize Mongolia’s independence. KMT general Chiang
Ching-kuo, who was in Moscow for negotiations, asked Stalin, “Why do you insist that Mongolia become
independent? Mongolia, though large in area, is sparsely populated and has an inadequate system of
roads. Besides, it doesn’t have much to offer for export.” Stalin replied, “To be frank with you, I wanted
Mongolia on grounds of its military and strategic value.” Pointing to a map, Stalin added, “Russia would
be done for if a military force were to attack the Soviet Union from Mongolia and cuts off the railroad at
Siberia.”
An article carried by the People’s Daily on July 31, 2001, recounted the following story. In July 1958, the
Soviet ambassador to China, Eugene, presented to Mao Zedong, Liu Shaoqi, Zhou Enlai, and other
Chinese leaders a Soviet proposal that a Sino-Soviet joint fleet be formed against the United States on
grounds that the area of operations for the Soviet fleet was limited by its geographic circumstances and
China happened to have a long coastline. Mao immediately expressed uneasiness over the proposal,
which encroached upon Chinese sovereignty. Mao was further upset when he recalled another Soviet
offer, made just the day before, to build a long-wave radio station under joint Sino-Soviet administration.
Mao thus asked Khrushchev to come to Beijing in person and discuss the matter. On July 31, 1958,
Khrushchev, the first Secretary of the Soviet Communist Party, arrived in China and met Mao for a talk
the same day. During their talk, Mao asked Khrushchev more than once to explain what he meant by
“joint fleet.” Unable to give a straightforward answer, Khrushchev beat about the bush and finally
admitted that it was unthinkable to have one fleet under the control of two states.
An article from a Russian news agency on Dec. 18, 2002, further disclosed, “Interestingly, even when
Igor Rodionov, Russia’s former Minister of Defense, called China ‘Russia’s potential rival in the 21st
century’ during his visit to Beijing in 1997, the climate of mutual trust between Russia and China was not
affected in any way. Beijing only considered the general’s words as an expedient measure, with which he
‘could exert pressure on his own government so that more funds could be allocated for the development
of the armed forces.'”
Obviously, Russia has never considered China a friend. To the contrary, it has consistently viewed China
as “Russia’s potential rival in the 21st century.” Jiang Zemin, however, exercised no caution in his
engagement of Russia and enacted agreements with Russia on border disarmament. Disarmament, that is,
that ordered Chinese border troops to withdraw further from a border that had already been scaled back,
leaving areas within 500 kilometers of the border undefended. Jiang thus helped Russia establish a buffer
zone of sorts, compromising China’s defenses. The move paved the way for potential disaster at the hands
of the Russian army—a scenario described in the book Basic Geopolitics, by Professor Dujin.
6. A Dead-End Deal
While it might be hard to surmise at present just how much harm the treaty will ultimately bring China,
it’s likely to go beyond the immediate effects of loss of face, sovereignty, and territorial integrity. The
treaty could well prove fatal for China, as one writer speculated in a Dec. 28, 2000, article: “of the oncein-a-century type disaster, calamity, peril, or danger that befalls China periodically, this one [the treaty] is
the worst.” [5]
This is by no means exaggeration.
Although China, with its area of 9,060,000 square kilometers, is the third largest nation in the world, its
per capita arable land stands only at 1.4 mu—but one third of the world’s average and one ninth that of
the United States. China, with plateaus in the west, wasteland in the northwest, grassland and desert in the
north, and seas to the southeast, is not blessed with favorable natural conditions. Only 3 million square
kilometers of its land is fit for habitation—a mere 29 percent of its total area. At a time when patriotic
Chinese are caught up in the idea that “the 21st century is China’s century,” the Chinese government has
to consider in its policy-making the question of sustainability and population distribution in the new
century, for its population is already close to maxing out what its natural resources can sustain.
The Chinese government rolled out a strategy to develop the western regions of China at the 1999 central
meetings on economic development. Ostensibly the government wished to promote economic growth out
west, improve the rather isolated and backward state of things there, and address the development gap
between the eastern and western regions of China by focusing on three key areas: improving the
environment, building infrastructure, and developing special local industries. Experts, however,
understood the policy differently.
Demographic patterns have remained basically unchanged since Hu Huanyong was able to plot in the
1930s a nearly straight line that stretches from Aihui (in the northeastern Heilongjiang Province) to
Tengchong (in the southwestern Yunnan Province)—a line that separates the eastern areas of dense
population from those of the thinly populated west. The area northwest of the Hu Huanyong Line, as it
came to be called, accounts for 64 percent of the nation’s total land though it only amounts to 5.6 percent
of the population. Southeast of the line, on the other hand, the area constitutes 36 percent of the land,
while the population there constitutes a dramatic 94.4 percent. Thus China’s society is clearly inclined
towards the southeast. For almost half a century now the population center has been shifting slightly in a
narrow coastal strip in the southeast—an area comprised of about 1 million square kilometers. Driven by
a mix of factors such as population growth, excess exploitation, and environmental degradation, China’s
population and development have continued to move towards the more naturally endowed southeast.
With the southeastern regions fully developed now, people, should they wish to continue expanding in
that direction, have nowhere to go but the Pacific Ocean.
Will “development of the western region”—a call often heard nowadays—really lift China out of this
predicament? Not long after China’s State Council put forward this strategy, a research fellow from
People’s University published a study, titled “Population Distribution and Sustainable Development in
China.” The piece argues that, “Since the western region, mostly plateaus and wasteland, has a low
percentage of cultivatable land and is a long distance from the sea […] its ability to sustain population is
far lower than that of the central and eastern regions. […] Environmental challenges like soil erosion and
desertification are much worse than in the central eastern regions. […] In terms of the ratio of population
sustainability to population pressure, the western region, though sparsely populated, has a far more
serious problem of being over-capacity. Thus the population concentration in the west should, instead of
increasing, decrease relative to that of the east. So people in the western region need to move out, but
only the vast Pacific Ocean is available for them in the east. Where can they resettle to, then?”
The only answer lies in the northeast of China. If China could truly recover its ceded territory through
peaceful negotiations in accordance with international law, the 21st century could hold great promise for
China. The one-million-plus square kilometers of land lost under the Treaty of Aigun and the Treaty of
Beijing amount to the total size of the three provinces that presently make up northeastern China—no
small sum. And moreover, these lands—located to the south of outer Xing’an Mountains, north of the
Heilongjiang River, and east of the Ussuri River—are forested and fertile lands bequeathed no less from
antiquity. They represent the final hope for China’s growth.
In the absence of adequate land—the most basic conditions for survival—the fate of China’s billion-plus
population becomes a very real, and major, cause for concern. Yet Jiang Zemin surrendered, without any
scruples, to Russia vast tracts of fertile land—land critical to China’s economy, if not future. A treaty
equally treacherous in China’s past is hard to find.
7. Lands Jiang Gave Away to Other Nations
With respect to China’s settlements of territorial disputes with Vietnam, India, and other countries of the
former Soviet Union, Beijing’s official media has never dared to report the contents of those treaties.
Talks that dealt away China’s territorial interests have been kept from the people.
The treaties Jiang signed with Tajikistan, Kyrgyzstan, and Kazakstan—the China-Tajikistan-Kyrgyzstan
Agreement on Boundary Demarcations and the China-Kyrgyzstan-Kazakstan Agreement on Boundary
Demarcations—virtually ceded all disputed lands. For instance, the treaty Jiang signed with Rakhmovov,
the president of Tajikistan, gave up 27,000 square kilometers of disputed land near the Pamir region and
retained only 1,000 square kilometers. This became known around the world only after a news agency in
Tajik proudly reported it.
During his visit to the Philippines, Jiang offered to give up sovereignty claims over the Spratly Islands
and agreed to a joint development of the islands.
At the end of November 1996, Jiang visited India and signed the “Agreement on Confidence Building
Measures in the Military Field of the Controlled Zone in Sino-Indian Boundary Areas,” setting a
framework for border demarcations based on the current control line. Meaning, China now recognizes the
McMahon Line and has let go of 90,000 square kilometers of fertile land south of the Himalayas.
Jiang approved the “Sino-Vietnam Land Border Treaty” on Dec. 30, 1999, which gave Vietnam Laoshan
of Yunnan Province and Fakashan of Guangxi Province—land that hundreds of Chinese soldiers had
defended with their lives during the Sino-Vietnamese Border War of 1979. Now the patriotic souls of the
dead soldiers from Libobo will be buried in Vietnam.
The matter of the Senkaku Islands merits more detailed discussion.
The ownership of the Senkaku Islands is rather subtle. Viewed in light of history, the Senkaku Islands
naturally belong to China. But both Taiwan and the mainland claim sovereignty over them. Several major
events have occurred around the Senkaku Islands. One is the Treaty of Shimonoseki (1895) which the
Qing government signed after its defeat in the Sino-Japanese War of 1894–1895, permanently ceding
Taiwan and its adjacent islands to Japan, including the Senkaku Islands. Japan has thus always cited the
Treaty of Shimonoseki (1895) as the legal basis for its claim over the islands. Another event happened in
1945, when the Treaty of Shimonoseki (1895) was abrogated after Japan’s defeat in the Second World
War and thus Japan lost its “legitimacy” with regard to the occupation of the Senkaku Islands. However,
instead of returning the Senkaku Islands to China when it turned over Taiwan and the Pescadores Islands,
Japan placed the Senkaku Islands under the administration of Okinawa County, hence sowing the seeds
for today’s Sino-Japanese sovereignty disputes.
Though only a group of deserted islets with a total area of a little over six square kilometers, the Senkaku
Islands include 740,000 square kilometers of “Exclusive Economic Zones” in accordance with the United
Nations Law of the Sea. The UN discovered in its exploration in 1967 some 80 billion barrels worth of oil
deposits underneath the area, valued at US$4 trillion—or four times China’s GDP—if calculated by the
current international oil price of $50 a barrel.
On a matter of such high stakes, Jiang should have labored to bring the island back into China’s fold; or at
least, that is, if he really took national interests seriously. China could rightfully and legitimately recover
its sovereignty over the Senkaku Islands either on account of its “occupation” as recognized in history or
based on international agreements such as the Cairo Declaration, the Potsdam Proclamation, or the Joint
Statement between China and Japan. Jiang made not even a try at it, however, and—sporting an attitude
of “It’s better to give it to a friendly neighbor than to one’s own enemy at home”—often mocked and
blocked efforts by Taiwan to regain rights over the isles.
Jiang could not totally shy away from the issue of the Senkaku Islands, for as part of Taiwan, the islands
and Taiwan share a common fate. Moreover, Taiwanese authorities have taken a much stronger stance
than the CCP on the matter. The deputy minister of Taiwan’s Ministry of Defense, Chen Zhaomin, stated
in the legislature in early 2003 that the Senkaku Islands “are Taiwan’s territory” and that Taiwan’s
military will defend territorial integrity even if it means war.
Jiang thus had to mention the Senkaku Islands when he claimed sovereignty over Taiwan, though he did
so with a big difference in tone toward the two. Jiang has never renounced the use of force against
Taiwan. But when Japan sent police and helicopters to the Senkaku Islands to round up Chinese—a move
that amounted to making arrests on Chinese soil—Jiang only announced to the public through his
spokesperson that “as for differences between China and Japan on this issue, we have always been in
favor of seeking a settlement through peaceful negotiations.”
In 2003 activists defending the Senkaku Islands applied for a 50-person protest in front of the Japanese
embassy in Beijing, wishing to mark the historic date of Sept. 18. The police, with orders from Jiang,
rejected the application on grounds that it would “disrupt social order.”
So it was that Jiang surrendered all disputed territories in the form of equal treaties and never, in doing so,
sought the prior approval of the People’s Congress. Even less did he invite public opinion or a
referendum of some sort. Ironic is that while Jiang was trumpeting “patriotism” and “nationalism” on the
home-front and warning against supposed “anti-China forces,” perhaps the biggest “anti-China” force was
none other than Jiang himself.
8. Jiang Offers to Cede China’s Territory
When near the end of 1999 Jiang signed the ignoble treaty ceding so much land, he was the top leader of
China’s Communist Party, government, and military. He alone could decide whether to sign the treaty.
Even supposing the signing of the treaty had been suggested by politicians or authorized by the People’s
Congress, Jiang still could have refused to sign it. The following two examples should illustrate the point.
Towards the end of the Second World War, KMT leader Chiang Kai-shek sent Chiang Ching-kuo and
Song Ziwen to Moscow for negotiations with Stalin. Chiang hoped the Soviet Union could be persuaded
to send troops to fight the invading Japanese soldiers. When it looked like there were no alternatives,
Chiang sent a telegraph instructing Song to sign an agreement with the soviets. Upon reading the
telegraph, a disgruntled Song promptly resigned from his post as foreign minister. The agreement Song
was asked to sign required merely a referendum in Mongolia—not its cession—and yet still Song felt that
signing the document would make him a criminal spurned his nation. (As history would have it,
eventually a figure named Wang Shijie, Song’s successor, signed the agreement.)
The other comparable story is what happened to Yang Ru, the Qing Dynasty’s minister in Russia. On
Aug. 15, 1900, the Eight-Power Alliance conquered Beijing. On Aug. 19, Russians, who had long
coveted the northeast of China, believed that “It is absolutely necessary to include into our territory the
right sides of the Erguna River and the Amur River and a portion of Manchuria on the left side of the
Ussuri River.” On Sept. 11. 150,000 Russian soldiers crossed over the Sino-Russian borders, drowned
thousands of Chinese border residents by driving them into the Heilongjiang River, and swiftly took the
whole northeastern part of China. The city of Shenyang fell on Oct. 1 and Zeng Qi, the general at
Shengjing, was forced to sign the Provisional Charter on Land. The agreement demanded that troops
deployed at Shenyang be demobilized, that Yingkou be placed temporarily under Russian administration,
and that batteries and arsenals be demolished, among other requirements.
On Jan. 4, 1901, the royal court of the Qing Dynasty named Yang Ru the plenipotentiary and ordered him
to “talk with the Russians in St. Petersburg on the return of the three northeastern provinces of China.”
Yang fought hard for state sovereignty during the talks. On March 25, the Russians held Yang under
house arrest in the building of the Russian Foreign Ministry and used a stick and carrot approach with
him. They threatened that if China didn’t accept the terms set forth by Russia they would declare
Manchuria a province of Russia. Meanwhile they tempted Yang with a promise: once Yang signed the
agreement on Russia’s terms, Russia would immediately give him land and a house in St. Petersburg—a
place to enjoy the rest of his life. Yang rejected the Russians’ offers with indignation. Frustrated, the
Russians hurled Yang from the building, leaving him in a pool of his own blood. On March 28, enraged
Chinese held massive rallies against Russia, and the royal court received numerous petitions from
throughout the country opposing any change of sovereignty for the three northeastern provinces. Under
the circumstances, fearing other powers might seize the opportunity to threaten Russia’s vested interests
in China, Russia reluctantly declared that it would “temporarily shelve the treaty.” Yang Ru proved to be
one of the few officials in a rather disgraced period of Qing history who would die out of loyalty.
Unlike the times when China signed inequitable treaties in the past, the period of signings under Jiang
Zemin was not marked by wars with Russia, Tajikistan, India, or whoever. Jiang didn’t sign the treaties
under any form of coercion. And moreover it was China, not the foreign parties, that was historically in
the right. Reclaiming an inherent part of China’s territory should have been for Jiang an unavoidable
duty, especially when there were no risks involved. Thus, given the positions Jiang held at the time of
leader of China’s Communist Party, government, and military, it can be said with ironclad certainty that
Jiang ceded China’s territory of his own accord.
Then how did Jiang respond to the wave of accusations of treachery that he met with from overseas
Chinese? Did he find scapegoats? He didn’t. Rather, as mentioned above, Jiang completely covered up
the events related to the territorial treaties. Witness its absence from his biography. Nothing bespeaks
more clearly of Jiang’s guilty conscience.
9. Covering Up a Treacherous Past via Treason
The process Jiang went through in signing the treacherous treaties is open to question. The border survey
on the east started in 1991, when the Soviet Communist Party had just fallen and Russia’s economy had
slid into recession. China, on the other hand, had started gaining momentum in terms of economic growth
following Deng Xiaoping’s Southern Tour, and relations with western nations had begun to thaw after a
few years of post-Tiananmen Massacre freeze. In the context of the existing international climate in
which Russia needed help from China, there was no need, still less reason, for China to recognize all of
the unfair past treaties of which it was a signatory. Yet that is exactly what Jiang did.
Many found it hard to understand why Jiang behaved as he did. Chapter Two discussed how during a raid
in northeastern China in 1945 the Soviet red army got hold of all personal dossiers of the special agents
under Kenji Doihara, a general in the invading Japanese army who oversaw spying. And among them, of
course, were included the documents and photo files of young cadres who had trained where Jiang had.
Later, when Jiang studied in the Soviet Union, the Soviet intelligence departments discovered in the files
Jiang’s treasonous past and recruited him as a Soviet spy for their Far-East Bureau.
In May 1991, Jiang went on a visit to the former Soviet Union in his capacity as the CCP’s General
Secretary. During the tour of the Ligachev auto plant, the KGB arranged for Jiang to bump into the
beautiful former soviet spy, Klava, to whom Jiang had been so attracted. The encounter was a powerful
reminder for Jiang that were his identity as a KGB spy to be leaked, he would fall from power
immediately and be condemned to death. Fully aware of the ruinous consequences, Jiang was willing to
strike any deal with the Russians, no matter the stakes.
Once Jiang signed the Protocol ceding land and what was done couldn’t be undone, the CCP in turn
feared the details of the treaty being leaked. The truth would be equally ruinous for the CCP regime. This
is why the CCP would not (and has not) investigate Jiang further after it uncovered the truth. Jiang knew
that if he were to make a mistake, that mistake would have to be so serious that if the CCP tried to redress
it later on it would spell the CCP’s demise. Only this way would he not be held accountable.
In 2005 Cheng Xiang, a senior journalist from Hong Kong who had once served as Wenhui Daily‘s
deputy editor-in-chief (and later resigned from that post after the Tiananmen Square massacre of 1989),
was detained in China. According to international media, Cheng was arrested because he had written
several articles under the penname of Zhong Guoren in a column for Mingpao News. The articles
unveiled details of the Sino-Russian border agreement and called it—the treachery of the signing—the
most ludicrous farce of the 21st century. The Hong Kong press confirmed that Zhong was indeed the
penname Cheng Xiang used in the column in the Mingpao News. Zhong listed in one of his articles three
reasons why the Chinese government didn’t dare to let the public know about or explain the treaty it had
signed with Russia. First, he said, the CCP handled the matter of the borders worse than had the KMT
government—an authority the CCP had brought down and ridiculed as “treasonous.” Secondly, Jiang
handled the matter worse than had any previous CCP leaders. Thirdly, the treaty, which officially gave
away large chunks of Chinese territory, was never brought to the public’s attention at any stage of its
negotiations, including even its final signing.
Irritated by people who sought to reveal Jiang’s dealings, the CCP blacklisted the words “Sino-Russian
border” as a forbidden phrase on the forums of many official websites. In fact, authorities closed the
Mapfan Forum on the Website of China Maps for the reason that people were talking about the 64
villages east of the Heilongjiang River and other lands Jiang had yielded.
10. Bringing Jiang to Trial—A Hope for Reclaiming the Land
With the above said, there does remain one possible hope for recovering the territories ceded by Jiang
Zemin. And that is—according to the Vienna Convention on the Law of Treaties which the United Nation
adopted in May 1969—to bring Jiang to public trial.
Articles 49, 50, 51, and 52 of the Vienna Convention on the Law of Treaties stipulate that treaties
concluded with “fraud,” “bribery,” and “threat of force” are invalid.
Jiang traded away China’s territories so that Russia would not reveal his identity as a KGB spy and he
could thus stay in power as General Secretary of the Communist Party. Under the circumstances,
whatever treaties Jiang approved or signed would thus be invalid based on the Vienna Convention on the
Law of Treaties. If Jiang were brought to trial by the Chinese nation for the land treaties he handled, the
treaties he had signed would not count.
It is thus in China’s interest to thoroughly probe Jiang’s motives for signing the treaties and the whole
process behind them; to bring to the public the treason he has committed; and to hold Jiang legally
accountable. Beyond this there might be little chance for China to recover its northern territories.
11. Publicizing Heixiazi Island to Cover up Treason
The fact that Jiang quietly signed the Protocol on Dec. 9, 1999, remained a secret even to China’s
Minister of Defense, Chi Haotian. Chi later asked about it only after hearing rumors that a treaty was
concluded with Russia. The only reply he was given, however, was the superficial, stateassembled People’s Daily article of Dec. 12, 1999.
In October 2002, just before a trip by Jiang to the United States, the Independent Federation of Chinese
Students and Scholars in the United States (IFCSS) held a press conference at the National Press Club of
Washington, D.C., demanding that Jiang tell the public about the treaty and stating that the Chinese
people were entitled to know what territories belonged to China. Newspapers and websites around the
world reported on the event and its call.
A few days later, on Oct. 14–15, 2002, the CCP responded in a most strange way. The first page of the
photo news section of the People’s Daily website—a mouthpiece for Jiang and the state—a section of the
paper meant to capture major international and domestic news, unexpectedly ran a dozen or so photos,
two days in a row, with titles reading things like, “Vast frontiers with mysterious borders—images of
Sino-Russian-Mongolian Borders” and “The long road along the Sino-Russian-Mongolian Borders and
the new developments at various points of entry.” The photos didn’t have any explanatory text or articles
accompanying them. Perhaps there was little the paper dared say about the matter.
Many critics had long condemned Jiang for keeping people in the dark as to negotiations on the SinoRussian border (it involved national interests, after all), by barring them from asking or talking about it.
Things changed all of a sudden after Oct. 17, 2004, when the CCP began to report publicly about matters
related to the Sino-Russian border. The media in Beijing said that Chinese Foreign Minister Li Zhaoxing
and his Russian counterpart, Lavrov, had signed in Beijing the Supplementary Agreement on the Eastern
Section of the Boundary between the People’s Republic of China and the Russian Federation, which,
together with the previously signed Agreement on the Eastern Section of the Boundary between the
People’s Republic of China and the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics and Agreement on the Western
Section of the Boundary between the People’s Republic of China and the Russian Federation,
“completely settled the issue”—as media put it—of the more than 4,300-kilometer-long Sino-Russian
border.
The reports were puzzling. The supplementary agreement was now being publicized, and yet there was no
word about the original agreements that were being supplemented. More intriguing still, how far back did
the two “previously signed” agreements on the eastern and western sections of the boundary between
China and the Soviet Union date? And since, as of this date, no details of the four agreements have been
revealed to the public, just exactly how thoroughly has the border issue been “resolved”? The key to that
mystery, of course, lies in Jiang’s hands.
The CCP gingerly guarded against any mention of the earlier agreement on the eastern boundary, though
it covers 98 percent of Sino-Russian eastern border and with it Jiang yielded over 1 million square
kilometers of Chinese territory. Then in 2005 the CCP began to give much publicity to the supplementary
agreement, which covers only 2 percent of the border. It even tried to claim that the new agreement
recovered “half of Heixiazi Island.” The coverage was simply a deceptive spin by the CCP.
On May 31, 2005, Sheng Shiliang, a fellow at the Research Center on Development of the State Council,
was invited by the state-run Xinhua news company to chat online. Sheng had come up with an idea, and
said, “It’s really a defining event to have recovered more than 100 square kilometers of our formerly lost
land. In the old days China was always losing territory and never once reclaimed even a small piece by
legal means. This was the first time.”
But what kind of logic is that? It’s analogous to someone robbing you of 10,000 dollars, where you have
every right to recover it in full. Then one day the mugger returns one dollar to you, and you say, “Great! I
don’t care for the remaining 9,999 dollars anymore. The return of this one dollar has great historic
meaning!” It’s hard to imagine reasoning more feeble than that.
The fact that Hexiazi Island came to be occupied by the Stalin-led Russian Army in 1929 only as a
consequence the Zhongdonglu Incident is itself—ironically—ample proof that the CCP has long-been
willing to submissively follow Russia and sell out the nation of China.
On May 27, 1929, Russia’s main consulate in Harbin gathered all important Party officials of the far-east
and held an International Communist Conference to discuss the business of invading China. Their
gathering was discovered by the Chinese government, which arrested over 39 or more Russian and
Chinese Communist Party members, confiscated tens of thousands of documents on how to destroy order
in Chinese society and how to divide China.
In July 1929, local governments in the northeast, acting according to the KMT-led Government of the
Republic of China (ROC), started to gradually take over the sovereignty of land within the Chinese
border. According to a public-record Soviet government announcement published in 1919 and 1920, “All
the treaties concluded with China by the successive Russian governments in the past shall be invalidated;
all the lands taken from China and all of Russia’s concessions within China shall be forsaken; and
everything savagely taken from China by the czarist government and Russian capitalist class shall be
returned to China permanently and unconditionally.” Local government announced their intention to take
over the Zhongdong railroad management power, which was within China’s borders. In Aug. 1929, the
Russian government not only didn’t honor its previous declaration, but also announced the breaking of
diplomatic relations with China. They raised a 10,000-man army in anticipation of a large-scale invasion.
The Government of the Republic of China prepared to defend itself, ordering Zhang Xueliang to defend
China’s border and sending soldiers to both the east and west to obstruct and resist the invasion. This is
what historians called the “Zhongdonglu Incident.”
In the meantime, on Sept. 26, 1929, Stalin sent instructions to the CCP: “Only those who arm themselves
to defend Russia without any reservation, who defend Russia loyally, firmly, and truly are the true
revolutionaries and internationalists.” On Oct. 26, 1929, the Communist International sent frequent
telegrams indicating in certain terms, “To protect Russia, start armed riots all throughout the country.”
In November 1929, Li Lishan announced at the Chinese Communist “Second Conference,” as it was
called, that the “Central Government’s call to ‘Protect Russia with arms’ means armed riots all over the
country.” At the time, the secretary of China’s Communist, Liu Shaoqi, in Manzhou Province, stated:
“‘The Zhongdonglu Incident’ is the Imperialist armed invasion of Russia.” On Dec. 8, 1929, the CCP
published Announcement No. 60, stating, “To carry out the protection of Communist Russia, the practical
strategy is to start armed riots all throughout the country.”
Thus the Chinese Communists started armed riots throughout China’s major provinces in the south,
holding up the KMT government’s army and making it hard for ROC troops to advance north and resist
the Russian invasion. The Chinese Communists thus actively cooperated with the Russian army in the
north. Hexiazi Island was in this fashion lost and occupied by Russia.
The whole while that Russia was invading China and occupying Hexiazi Island, the CCP was willing to
be Russia’s servile follower. It was done solely in the interests of the CCP and at the cost of the interests
of China the nation as a whole. To think that now the CCP makes recovering a portion of Hexiazi Island
out to be a “huge achievement.” [6]
Worse still, according to a reporter from Nanfang Daily who visited the island, the western part of the
isle—the part designated as Chinese territory—is fully undeveloped, being overgrown with thick grass
and brush on soggy soil. Russia’s Communist Youth League (Pravda) had reported, however, that the
land it was returning to China was marked by nothing but dry grass and fresh fish. Russia had planned to
divide Heixiazi Island into four zones: an ecological zone, a farming zone, a sporting and recreation zone,
and a residential zone. The part returned to China was what Russia had planned as an ecological zone—a
zone which was least habitable. The remarks of Li Chuanxun, director of the Institute on Russian Studies
at Heilongjiang University, characterized the CCP’s spin-doctoring of the incident: “Well,” Li said, “the
development of Heixiazi Island still needs time and sufficient feasibility studies.”
And what did Russia get in the deal? More than they deserved, it would seem. “These islets didn’t really
belong to Russia,” says historian Alexander-Vishnevskiy. Pulikovskiy—the Russian president’s
plenipotentiary for its far-east federated areas—even stated that, based on the bilateral agreement, all
facilities that Chabarovsk residents had built and used on the island would remain within Russian
territory.
According to a Russian media report, Heixiazi Island, with an area of more than 300 square kilometers, is
rich in natural resources, and 70 percent of its land could be used for agriculture, grass farming, or
grazing. Fur-bearing animals and aquatic birds were said to be found on the island. The fish in the
Heilongjiang River and its tributaries, as with the lakes and streams on the isle, were far more bountiful
than those in all of the Volga River region. The land, which has around 15,000 vegetable and fruit
gardens and entertains tens of thousands of tourists each year, produces more than 4,000 tons of potatoes
annually and raises 1,500 cattle in the summer with an annual milk output of 1,700 tons. The island
features 10 farms, the reports continued, as well as tourist resorts for urban industries and two villages
nestled on the island. Of course, all of these desirable traits were true, but only for one half of the island:
the half that Russia got from the deal.
The Russians themselves had acknowledged that Heixiazi Island should be returned to China. But what
did China get under Jiang but a wasteland; the precious part was forever signed off to Russia. Again the
CCP paints itself as a hero were what really was at work was bumbling ineptitude and treachery.
* * *
Like Qin Gui, a notorious traitor in China’s Southern Song Dynasty, Jiang Zemin sold out his own nation
for personal glory. He sacrificed China’s national interests to protect himself, fearing his record as a
Russian spy would leak and his political power be at risk. Jiang employed the most deplorable strategy
possible to achieve his goals. The bottom line was critical in the negotiations between the CCP and
Russia. Jiang acted with ulterior motives behind the smokescreen of Deng Xiaoping’s line and secretly
tried to gain his way, blocking news and burying the truth as necessary along the way. Even high-ranking
officials of the CCP were thus kept in the dark. But word traveled fast. When people in China’s top
circles of power, especially military generals such as Chi Haotian, learned part of the truth, Jiang knew he
faced trouble. His response, predictably, was to tie his own culpability to the CCP’s survival and thus
prevent anyone from speaking out. So, faced with treasonous acts that could well have triggered
nationwide protests, the CCP was fearful. But staying in power was the Party’s top concern. Thus in June
2005, when China gained a small compromise from Russia on Heixiazi Island (and yielded the
majority—notably the desirable part—of the Island to Russia), China’s propaganda machine acted on
Jiang’s orders to exaggerate the trivial achievement. The island, which accounted for a mere 1/10,000 of
the land Jiang lost to Russia, was in the CCP’s media made out to be a monumental, historic achievement.
The CCP lauded the “achievement” with publicity at every level, concealing what was in reality a terribly
treacherous act. Jiang and the CCP—two birds of a feather—found common ground in the affair, both
having colluded in shady deals.
____________________
Notes:
[1] Note that since the fall of the Soviet Union, the contours of Russia are different from those of czarist Russia, with the former
northwestern parts of China now in Kazakstan and Kyrgyzstan, rather than the present Russia.
[2] For the full text, see Declaration to the Chinese Government by the Government of the Soviet Socialist Republics of Russian
Federation.
[3] Robert Lawrence Kuhn, The Man Who Changed China: The Life and Legacy of Jiang Zemin (New York: Crown, 2004), 231.
[4] Ibid., 231.
[5] From the article, “The New Treaty on the Sino-Russian Border—A Dead-End Deal.”
[6] It should be noted for purposes of clarity that Hexiazi Island is in fact composed of several islets. The island is referred to in
Russian as Greater Ussurisky Island.
Under Jiang Zemin’s reign, corruption throughout the bureaucracy reached unprecedented levels.
He actually found it desirable to rule China with corrupt officials. Winning the allegiance of others
always banks on something. Some rely on their wisdom and prestige, others count on popular election. As
such Jiang, lacking wisdom and not having been elected, knew that were he to appoint honest and upright
officials his incompetence and corrupt ways would be noticed. How Jiang treated Zhu Rongji, who was
widely known as an official of integrity and meritorious service, was a telling sign of what kind of
officials Jiang was looking for. Corrupt officials, by contrast, were advantageous for Jiang in that they
wouldn’t pose a threat—they were disdained by the public.
Ironic it is that corrupt officials have been among the most vocal in China’s fight against corruption. All
of the senior officials who fell from power—on charges of graft—in internal political struggles were
those who had given strong support to “anti-corruption initiatives.” Jiang, himself the head of arguably
China’s most corrupt family, used slogans related to “fighting-corruption” as a means to win popular
support and attack political opponents. In Robert Kuhn’s biography of Jiang remarks about fighting
corruption abound, though. But actions count louder than words. All of the corrupt officials loyal to Jiang
met with swift promotion while those who held different political views were punished cruelly, usually
under the guise of “fighting graft.” Others who were useless to Jiang similarly met with punishment, as a
warning to others.
In 2000, in the public’s eye, Jiang seized upon the opportunity provided by what has become known as
the “Yuanhua Case” to eliminate political opponents and protect those loyal to him. The telling episode
deserves discussion.
1. The Startling Yuanhua Smuggling Case
The “Yuanhua case” has a long story behind it. The main culprit of the case is the board chairman of the
Yuanhua Group, Lai Changxing. Lai founded the group in 1994 and was thereafter engaged in the
practice of smuggling. According to official sources, from 1996 up through the time the case came to
light, the Yuanhua group was engaged in some five years of illicit smuggling. The value of goods
smuggled by the group totaled 53 billion yuan (US$6.4 billion), with duty fees evaded amounting to 30
billion yuan (US$3.6 billion); this resulted in a loss of 83 billion yuan (US$10 billion) in revenue for the
state. At the time the Yuanhua case was regarded as the largest incident of smuggling to have taken place
since the CCP came to power in 1949.
Although the Yuanhua smuggling case was widely reported in Hong Kong and Macao, media in China
didn’t report on the affair whatsoever, save for marginal mention in one November 1999 Beijing Evening
News report. The case began to gain attention in 2000 after being reported on widely by international
media such as The Wall Street Journal, The New York Times, The Washington Post, and The L.A. Times.
According to coverage of the case, the matter came to light via an anonymous tip-off that then-premier
Zhu Rongji received in March 1999. The source exposed the details of the massive smuggling that the
Yuanhua group was carrying out in Xiamen City. The source provided detailed eyewitness testimony and
physical evidence. It was in this fashion that the major smuggling case and the astronomical figures it
involved came to light.
Regarding this case, Zhu Rongji said, “No matter who is involved, it should be thoroughly investigated
regardless of his status.” Jiang chimed in along similar lines, saying that those involved should be
punished heavily irrespective of their status. Jiang’s position on the case changed quickly, however, when
the investigating task force discovered that the matter was closely connected to Jiang’s subordinates,
among whom were Jia Ting’an and Jia Qinglin.
In early 2000, the Hong Kong Economics Times quoted an informed source in Beijing as saying that the
420 Investigation Task Force—the group appointed by the Central Committee of the CCP to investigate
the Yuanhua case—was required to complete its investigation before the Two Conferences (the National
People’s Congress and the Chinese People’s Political Consultative Conference) were convened. The
stipulation was in place so that authorities could publicize at the two conferences their “significant
accomplishments” of fighting graft in what they called “a century-spanning campaign against graft.” The
proviso showed that what was really central for Jiang was seizing the occasion of the Yuanhua problem to
boost his own standing. At the same time, though, Jiang wished for swift closure to the investigation in
that he feared being implicated.
Executing Accomplices Before the Case Was Closed
Multiple departments conducted a joint investigation into the Yuanhua matter in 2000, with involved
bodies including the disciplinary inspection committee, supervision department, customs authorities,
public security department, prosecutor’s office, court, and finance and taxation units. The smuggling in
Xiamen City and the involved dereliction of duties were investigated thoroughly. During the
investigations over 600 persons were probed, with nearly 300 being prosecuted in the end for criminal
liability.
In 2001 courts at several levels issued a total of 167 verdicts on 269 defendants in connection with the
Yuanhua smuggling case. In July, before the case was closed, several persons had already been sentenced
to death and executed. Victims included Ye Jichen, the former president of the Xiamen branch of the
Industrial and Commercial Bank of China; Wu Yubo, the former section chief of Ship Management
section of the East Ferry Management Office of Xiamen Customs; along with Wang Jinting, Jie Peikong,
Huang Shanying, Zhuang Mingtian, Li Baomin, and Li Shizhuan, among others.
In such a high-profile case, the execution of 10-plus accomplices before the conclusion of the
investigation was tantamount to destroying evidence, making it impossible to ever truly solve the case.
This owed fully to the case’s bearing on the close subordinates of Jiang Zemin, who acted as quickly as
possible to wipe out sources of incriminating evidence. The acts of killing, disturbing as they were, were
in fact then turned around by Jiang and made out to be signs of the Party chief’s strong “determination”
and a mark of achievement. Media widely reported the matter in a positive, affirming light.
Jiang Thanked Lai Changxin
During the investigation Jia Ting’an, who was one of Jiang’s most trusted confidants and the director of
Jiang’s office, on one occasion divulged classified information to Lai Changxing. Lai also revealed that
he was on very good terms with three of Jiang’s five secretaries, of whom one was Jia Ting’an, the chief
secretary.
Many people aren’t familiar with who Jia Ting’an is. Jia was the director of Jiang’s office when Jiang
became General Secretary of the CCP. He had before then been Jiang’s secretary when Jiang worked in
the Ministry of the Electronics Industry. Jia returned to Shanghai with Jiang in January 1985, later
coming back to Beijing with Jiang in June 1989. As Jia was Jiang’s most important secretary and
assistant, people called him the “Master Secretary.”
In 2004 Jiang promoted Jia from the director of Jiang’s office to the director of the office of Central
Military Commission (CMC). Jiang also recommended that Jia’s military rank be raised directly from that
of a colonel to lieutenant general; Jiang’s invoked the pretexts of this being a “special circumstance” and
of “benefit to our work.” Members of the CMC said that Jia’s administrative rank was merely that of a
bureau director, of which the corresponding military rank is colonel, and that promoting Jia as Jiang had
sought to do could result in a revolt in the Commission. Jiang nonetheless insisted on pushing ahead with
the move. When Jiang made the recommendation a second time the motion was again tabled in a CMC
meeting. The facts suggested that Jia was clearly Jiang’s most trusted subordinate.
Lai Changxing stated on one occasion that, “Jiang’s mansion was inside the Zhongnanhai compound.
Jiang lived on one side while his security guards and secretaries occupied the other. Jiang mostly lived in
Zhongnanhai, but when the mansion was under renovation in 1997 and 1998 he lived in Diaoyutai.”
When speaking with Sheng Xue, the author of The Dark Secrets behind the Yuanhua Case, Lai said that
although he did not have direct contact with Jiang, he had once intended to make a donation to the CMC.
Jiang’s secretary reported the matter to Jiang. Lai added, “Jiang said that I didn’t have to do so. He would
like me to keep the money for business use. Jiang also expressed to me his appreciation. He knew that I
was his secretary’s close friend.”
On one occasion when Jia went to the airport to pick up Jiang after Jiang returned from an overseas trip,
Jia told Jiang that Li Jizhou (the former deputy minister of public security) was involved in an automobile
smuggling case in Guangdong Province. Then Jia asked another of Jiang’s secretaries to ask Lai whether
he was involved in the affair.
Lai elaborated, saying that the second secretary was Jiang’s family steward, and he took charge of
everything in Jiang’s family. When asked by the second secretary, Lai replied, “I have absolutely nothing
to do with that case.” The secretary said, “If you have nothing to do with the case it will be easier for
them to deal with it.”
Afterwards Lai promptly told Li Jizhou about the matter while in Zhuhai City; at that time Li Jizhou was
accompanying Zhu Rongji to inspect efforts meant to combat smuggling in Guangdong Province. Along
with this Lai made plans to help Li’s girlfriend, Li Shana—a former official at the Ministry of Public
Security’s Transportation Department—hide and avoid capture for her involvement, though she was later
arrested.
Given that Lai’s relationship with Jia was that close, could one really expect Jiang to bring Lai to justice?
As lofty as Jiang may have pitched his anti-corruption rhetoric, his crime fighting campaign was merely a
veneer by means of which he could attack his political opponents.
Attacking Ji Pengfei and Liu Huaqing
In the then-sensational Yuanhua case, Jiang’s real targets were Ji Shengde, son of the senior diplomat Ji
Pengfei, and Liu Huaqing’s daughter and daughter-in-law.
Jiang is so narrow-minded that he was sure to take revenge on those who verbally made light of him. Two
figures were always on his mind: one was Ji Pengfei and the other Liu Huaqing. Both of them had
networked with people extensively in their respective fields, but neither cared much about Jiang. Of
course, little could two senior figures such as they be blamed for a lack of respect toward the appointed
“core” leader. The fact was, Jiang was mediocre and incompetent, skilled at little.
Ji Pengfei was once a heavyweight in China’s foreign affairs system, a key figure in the hand-over of
Hong Kong’s sovereignty. He used to hold high-ranking positions, of which were included Deputy
Premier, Member of the State Council, Director of the Office of Hong Kong and Macao Affairs, Vice
Chairman of the National People’s Congress, and Member of the Standing Committee of the Central
Advisory Council. Before China opened up to the world, his grandson used to dress in fashionable clothes
brought back from overseas and was always in the limelight. Jiang was nothing to Ji. Ji’s son, Ji Shengde,
never had anything good to say about Jiang. All of this made Jiang boil beneath the surface. Ji Shengde,
who was Ji Pengfei’s only son, was the Deputy Director of the Intelligence Department of the People’s
Liberation Army’s (PLA) Headquarters of the General Staff. He was on close terms with Lai Changxing.
Meanwhile, Liu Huaqing’s daughter was a subordinate of Ji Shengde. This resulted in the two being
attacked by Jiang in unison.
In mid March 1999, during which Ji Shengde was in Zhuhai City, he was asked to rush back to Beijing to
attend an expanded meeting of the CMC. As soon as he arrived at the conference room, Ji sensed that
something was awry. Nobody greeted him. He was then promptly arrested and it looked as if he would be
sentenced to death. After his arrest Ji’s father, Ji Pengfei, who was spending his retired life in Xiangshan
(a vacation resort near Beijing), wrote Jiang and other top leaders four times, asking Jiang to spare his son
the death penalty. The request was rejected. In despair Ji Pengfei committed suicide by swallowing
sleeping pills at 1:52 p.m. on Feb. 10, 2000.
With regard to father Ji’s death, the state’s official mouthpiece, the Xinhua News Agency, carried only a
brief news item on the matter. Jiang didn’t attend the funeral service. The CMC, the four military
departments, and the Ministry of Defense didn’t even send a funeral wreath. With the help of a few
retired senior officials and/or their widows, Ji’s widowed wife, Xu Hanbin, was able to hold off her son’s
execution for the time being.
After attending his father’s funeral service, Ji Shengde, who was kept in custody at the PLA’s Department
of General Staff, felt even more hopeless than before. He attempted to commit suicide himself by slitting
his wrist with a toothbrush handle and swallowing more than 70 sleeping pills. The suicide attempt failed,
however. Xu Hanbin asked Jiang to grant Ji Shengde medical parole on account of hypertension, but the
request was rejected. She then asked for permission to visit Ji three times a week and send meals without
restriction. Her request was again rejected. Unable to stand the grief and indignation from this, Xu
attempted to commit suicide by swallowing sleeping pills on the evening of Sept. 14, 2001. Xu was
rushed to Hospital 301 and rescued, however. Incredibly, Jiang wanted to see destroyed members of a
family such as this that had dedicated their lives to the CCP.
As to Liu Huaqing, a former member of the Standing Committee of the Central Politburo and Vice
Chairman of the CMC, Jiang had long wanted to remove him from the political arena. Jiang had a hard
time finding a proper opportunity. Liu was Jiang’s military “mentor,” the man assigned by Den Xiaoping
after the Tiananmen Massacre on grounds that Jiang had never served in the military. But Jiang, someone
who promoted generals on a whim, definitely didn’t want anyone giving him constant direction.
After the Tiananmen Massacre in 1989 Deng had appointed Jiang as the General Secretary of the CCP
Central Politburo and Chairman of CMC. In light of the fact that Jiang lacked military experience, Deng
made a point of assigning two senior generals—Liu Huaqing and Zhang Zhen—as Vice Chairmen of the
CMC so that the two could assist Jiang and maintain morale in the military.
After gradually becoming a full-fledged General Secretary, Jiang began to develop his own faction in the
military; his means was, as discussed earlier, offering special promotions to young and middle-aged
generals. Shortly thereafter Jiang changed his style of non-intervention in military affairs to one of more
active involvement. Liu Huaqing and Zhang Zhen expressed discontentment over Jiang’s intervention,
insisting that the troops should be led by those with military acumen. One source has even claimed Liu
was seen pointing his finger at Jiang in a Politburo meeting, scolding him. Liu took it for granted that he
was senior to Jiang, given Deng’s appointment of Liu. But little did Liu realize Jiang was the kind of
person who never forgot or forgave any slight.
In 1999, on the occasion of the PRC’s fiftieth anniversary, Jiang ordered that no retired generals should
wear military uniforms at the celebratory events. He did this so as to make himself more attention
grabbing. Before reviewing the troops, Jiang went up to the rostrum overlooking Tiananmen to greet
senior Party, government, and military officials. As soon as Jiang spotted Liu, donning a general’s
uniform and making for an awesome presence, he felt that Liu was willfully challenging his personal
authority. Jiang confronted Liu, his anger veiled, “Didn’t I say that it’s forbidden to wear the uniform?
What’s the matter with you?” Liu didn’t buy it and came back, “You get to wear the uniform without
having taken part in a single battle. Then why can’t I wear my uniform?”
Jiang’s anger was such that he was at a loss for words. His face reportedly turned pale and his body
quivered with anger. It was not until Jiang was asked to ride on the vehicle from which he would inspect
the troops that he calmed down. After the review of the troops Jiang told You Xigui, his bodyguard, that
he would teach Liu Huaqing a stern lesson.
Zhang Zhen announced his retirement after the 15th National Congress of the CCP. Deng Xiaoping had
passed away by this time, and Jiang was growing more and more powerful in the military after some
painstaking, cunning maneuvering. Jiang felt that the time to teach Liu a lesson had arrived. But Jiang
couldn’t find fault with Liu. At the time Liu’s daughter, Liu Chaoying—herself a colonel and the Deputy
Director of the Fifth Intelligence Division of the PLA’s Department of General Staff—was involved in a
scandal involving illegal campaign contributions in the U.S. As Liu Chaoying’s direct supervisor
happened to be Ji Shengde—a close friend of Lai Changxing—Jiang saw the campaign fiasco as a
wonderful chance to take action.
When Lai Changxing described to Sheng Xue, the author of The Dark Secrets behind the Yuanhua Case,
his relationship with Ji Shengde, he said, “No matter whether I was in Beijing, Shenzhen, Xiamen or
Hong Kong, he would definitely come to see me as long as he was around. We’ve met up countless
times.” Attacking Lai was not Jiang’s real aim. His actual targets were Ji Shengde and Liu Huaqing’s
daughter.
Liu Huaqing’s youngest daughter, Liu Chaoying, and his second daughter-in-law, Zheng Li, were the two
people Liu loved most dearly. He could hardly take food or rest well after the two were arrested. After
turning the matter over in his mind, Liu concluded that he had no choice but to pluck up his courage and
intercede with Jiang. But Jiang uttered not so much as a word after receiving a call from Liu about the
matter. Jiang’s countenance even revealed a hint of satisfaction after hanging up the phone. Zeng
Qinghong had once told Liu, “We can’t stop you from opposing Chairman Jiang, but it’s nothing for us to
arrest your daughter-in-law, your wife, and your daughter.”
Liu’s daughter-in-law, Zheng Li, was an officer of the General Political Department of the PLA. After her
arrest she was watched by two female soldiers day and night. She once escaped from custody while going
to the restroom. When she arrived in Henan Province she called Liu, asking him if he knew of her arrest.
When Liu answered that he did know, she realized that nobody could really help her. She then turned
herself in to the Central Investigation Department.
When Liu’s daughter, Liu Chaoying, was arrested at a VIP lounge of the Beijing International Airport,
she protested with pride, “I am Liu Huaqing’s daughter, how dare you arrest me!” The 10 some soldiers
didn’t listen to her. They whisked her off from the airport without saying a word. As Liu Chaoying was
arrogant in custody and refused to make a “confession,” an investigator slapped her and verbally abused
her. She then realized the gravity of the situation, for she had never been treated in such a manner. She
thus began to divulge information.
Jiang personally oversaw all handling of the Liu family’s case, giving in fact direct commands and
supporting the investigators. After Liu’s family members were arrested it was said that somebody close to
Jiang had once advised, “Give leniency to the descendants of those who have helped you.” In other
words, Liu deserved credit for the assistance he had given Jiang over the years. Jiang was furious at the
suggestion, however, and told the person to be silent.
The Yuanhua Case Embroiled Jia Qinglin
Jiang’s trusted subordinate Jia Qinglin was another major figure in the Yuanhua case.
The size and scope of the Yuanhua case in Xiamen City, which came to light in 1999, surpassed all other
corruption and smuggling cases known to China since the founding of the PRC in 1949; funds involved in
the case totaled around 70 billion yuan (US$8.4 billion). More than 250 local, provincial, and even central
CCP officials were embroiled in the fiasco. Persons involved were accused of accepting bribes of as much
as hundreds of millions of U.S. dollars over a period of five years—1994 through 1999. Products worth
hundreds of millions U.S. dollars—including automobiles, fuel, raw materials, heavy machinery, and
luxury goods—were smuggled into China through the Xiamen port. From 1994 to 1996 Jia Qinglin was
the Party Secretary of Fujian Province and the Director of the Standing Committee of the Fujian
Provincial People’s Congress. This is the reason Jiang didn’t allow the investigation of the Yuanhua case
to go beyond a certain level of the hierarchy.
Jia Qinglin was born in Hebei Province in March 1940. He once worked in the same First Machinery
Department that Jiang once did. The coincidence won him the appreciation of his former superior, Jiang.
As Jiang was incrementally promoted toward the post of General Secretary, Jia’s political outlook
improved as well.
After Jiang ousted Chen Xitong, the Party Secretary of Beijing, in 1996, Jia Qinglin was promoted first as
the Mayor of Beijing and later Party Secretary of Beijing and even given membership in the Politburo.
Jiang obviously thought highly of Jia.
After graduation in 1962 from the Department of Electrical Power of the Hebei Institute of Engineering,
Jia Qinglin found work in the Policy Research Office of the First Ministry of Machinery Industry. In 1978
he was appointed General Manager of the China National Machinery Import and Export Corporation. He
relocated to Fujian in 1985 and was promoted to Provincial Governor of Fujian in early 1993. In late 1993
he was appointed Party Secretary of Fujian Province.
After the Yuanhua case surfaced, the investigation task force ferreted out a group picture of Lai
Changxing and Jia Qinglin taken when Jia visited the Yuanhua Group. Lai said that the investigation task
force wanted to arrest him, and that if he were captured and were to reveal Jia Qinglin, Jia would be
finished politically. Thus when Jia Qinglin was promoted, a jingle could be heard in Fujian that went, “A
crooked official from Fujian has gone on to become a big gun in Beijing.”
In 2003 four deputy secretaries of the Central Commission for Discipline Inspection asked the Party
Central Committee to reinvestigate the political qualifications of Jia Qinglin. On top of a variety of
officials, including some from the Chinese People’s Political Consultative Conference (CPPCC),
opposing Jia’s appointment to Chairman of the CPPCC, the Audit Office of the State Council exposed a
massive financial scandal related to Jia when he held official posts in Fujian.
The Audit Office, which was close to the expiration of its office term, submitted an audit report in late
January 2003 to the Politburo of the CCP Central Committee and the Standing Committee of the National
People’s Congress; the report was in regards to national debt related to special construction funds. The
report revealed that the construction of the Changle International Airport in Fuzhou City (of Fujian
Province), of which the original budget, as authorized by the Fujian CCP Provincial Committee in 1993,
was in total 2 billion yuan (US$240 million), had in fact already overspent 1.2 billion yuan by early 1997.
Between 1993 and 1997, when Jia Qinglin was the Provincial Governor and Secretary of CCP Provincial
Committee in Fujian, he took over and redirected construction funds slated for the Changle airport.
According to investigations, fully 1.28 billion yuan had been misappropriated by the Fujian CCP
Provincial Committee and Provincial Government. The majority of the funds were either used on perks
for high-level officials or could not be traced. By the time construction of Changle airport was completed
and operations began in early 1998, the accumulated financial losses for the first five years reached a
staggering 1.55 billion yuan (US$186 million). The primary source of losses was the bloated scale of
construction. The quantity of travelers and freight have only reached 30 percent of design capacity. The
construction cost of the airport stands one and a quarter times that of equivalent scale airports in China. It
is said that Audit Office’s report further revealed that Jia Qinglin and He Guoqiang authorized 11 times
the use of a special national fund in order to cover the 1.2 billion yuan in excess expenditures.
The Audit Office also verified that part of the funds embezzled in the name of airport construction was
actually diverted to build or purchase 570 luxury villas in the cities of Fuzhou, Xiamen, Zhuhai, Dalian,
Qingdao, Wuxi, Hangzhou, and Beijing. The villas were quickly snapped up by 230 unnamed senior CCP
officials.
In the Audit Office’s report on national debt for special construction funds dated December 2000,
mention was made of “serious fund embezzlement, overspending, and unknown disposition existing in
the four major development projects, of which are included airport construction, highway construction,
the Three Gorges project, and comprehensive agricultural development.” The report clearly indicated that
the projects handled by Jia and He—referred to as the “false and disastrous” (homonyms for “Jia” and
“He”) project—were plagued by embezzlement and unaccounted for capital expenditure.
When the report was sent to Jiang for review he made only brief comments, saying, “Problems similar to
those involving the Changle airport are pretty common. These problems arose because of poor
management.” The report was then returned to the State Council.
When Jia Qinglin served as the Party Secretary of Fujian Province, his wife, Lin Youfang, was the Party
Secretary of the China Foreign Trade Group in Fujian. She was accused of serious corruption in
connection with the Yuanhua case and could never shake the accusations. Jiang thus asked Jia to divorce
her in 2000 so as to make clear Jia had “drawn the line” between he and Lin.
However, Lin openly denied reports of her divorce. She said, “We have been married 40 years. Our
relationship is excellent and we have a happy family.” She also pointed out, “I have never heard of this
so-called ‘Huayuan Company’ that’s registered in Hong Kong.” What she said was partly true, in that the
company involved in the smuggling was the “Yuanhua group” of Xiamen City, not the “Huayuan
Company” of Hong Kong. However, sources in Fujian Province revealed that Lin was in fact in charge of
Fujian’s foreign trade and that it would take a fool to believe she didn’t know about the Yuanhua group;
the group was the largest import and export company in Fujian. Her pleading innocence only worsened an
already bad situation.
Whether Jia and Lin ever got divorced is still to this day unknown. However, in an official photo taken at
a dinner party Jia hosted in honor of Lian Zhan on April 28, 2005, Lian’s wife, Fang Yu, is standing
beside Lian while Jia’s wife is nowhere to be seen. On Sept. 18, 1999, Jiang Zemin made a point of
supposedly “inspecting development work in Beijing” and attended public activities with Jia, who was
facing impeachment at the time. Those not closely involved in the matter considered Jiang’s move to be a
show of political backing for Jia.
As the 10th National People’s Congress and Chinese People’s Political Consultative Conference were
about to convene, Jia Qinglin, who had been unofficially slated, thanks to Jiang, to take the position of the
chairmanship of the 10th Political Consultative Congress, submitted a letter of resignation from the
Politburo, citing poor health. Jiang however rejected Jia’s resignation. Jiang said, “If you step down from
the political arena, I am finished.” This suggests that Jiang must have been involved in illicit financial
dealings as well. Jiang used Jia, and Jia in turn provided protection for Jiang. Their close connection can
be made out.
According to one media report, the Beijing municipal government gave a banquet to celebrate Jia’s
appointment as the chairman of the Consultative Congress. Throughout the banquet Jia kept silent and
drank glass after glass of liquor. At one point he murmured to himself, “It’s not that I want the
promotion…” In the meetings of the 16th National People’s Congress in November 2002, one picture,
capturing a dispirited Jia sitting at his table, told what Jia felt inside: he had no choice but to be Jiang’s
accomplice.
Although Jiang succeeded in promoting Jia to the highest circles of power in the CCP, the Yuanhua case
still haunts and undermines Jia. Jia’s connection to the Yuanhua case has become a typical example of
corrupt CCP politics. It is a constant, stark reminder of just how hollow Jiang’s talk of fighting corruption
really is. Jiang intended to use the Yuanhua case to knock off political opponents, but ultimately ended up
shooting his own foot.
2. The Death of Cheng Kejie
In 2000 when the investigation of the Yuanhua smuggling case in Xiamen was in high gear, Cheng Kejie,
Chairman of Guangxi Autonomous Region, was executed.
Cheng was of a minority ethnic group, the Zhuang nationality. He at one time had worked as a technician,
an engineer, a chief engineer, a deputy director, and then director, all at the Liuzhou Railway Bureau of
Guangxi Province. He began his career at the bottom of the totem and made his way up in increments. In
1986 he became Vice Chairman of Guangxi Zhuang Autonomous Region Government, and then, in 1990,
its Chairman. In 1992, he was appointed as a member of Central Committee at CCP’s 14th National
Congress. With his election to Vice Chairman of the Standing Committee of the National People’s
Congress in 1998, Cheng became a Party and state leader equal in rank to vice-premier.
During his time as Chairman of Guangxi Zhuang Autonomous Region, Cheng had a mistress with whom
he shared bribes of 41 million yuan (US$5.9 million). On July 31, 2000, Cheng was accused of “taking an
enormous amount in bribes” and sentenced to death by the Beijing No.1 Intermediate People’s Court. His
political rights were deprived for life and all of his personal property was expropriated. Cheng
immediately applied for an appeal, but was turned down by Beijing People’s High Court. On Sept. 7, the
Supreme People’s Court agreed that the Beijing High Court’s sentencing of capital punishment was in
accordance with criminal law. On Sept. 14, the death sentence was carried out on Cheng by the execution
squad of Beijing No.1 Intermediate People’s Court.
So it was that in the short span of just a month and a half a Party and state leader equal in rank to vicepremier came to be executed. Cheng became the highest ranking official to be executed—and in the
shortest time, at that—under CCP rule for this offense.
On Sept. 21, a state newspaper editorial declared that Cheng’s execution was a warning to high-level
officials that nobody, regardless of rank, is above the law. The editorial also said that, “The verdict on
Cheng Kejie and the government’s pledge of thorough investigation into the Xiamen smuggling case
show that the government meant what it said about fighting corruption.” However, the total sum Cheng
had embezzled was nothing compared with that of Jiang Zemin’s corrupt son, Jiang Mianheng—”China’s
No. 1 corrupt official,” as he is called.
In fact it was not on account of unpardonable crimes coming to light that Cheng was arrested. Rather, the
collection of evidence only began after his arrest. And it resorted to terribly underhanded measures, no
less. A little background is in order first. Cheng, who was a married man, fell in love with a married
woman named Li Ping. In late 1993 Cheng and Li decided to divorce their respective spouses and marry
one another. Cheng embezzled 4 million and prepared to move abroad with Li. It should be noted that
investigators did not know this. Authorities only learned of these plans upon coercing Li into coming
clean; police showed Li photos of Cheng mingling with other women. Li was overwhelmed with jealousy
upon seeing the photos. Li thought that she had been deceived by Cheng all along, and thus revealed to
police their entire plan. Cheng’s execution then quickly came about. It was only too late that Li learned
she had been deceived: the photos she was shown were fake. Cheng’s face had been inserted into the
photos with image-editing software. After realizing what had happened Li cried and screamed that it was
she who killed Cheng.
Hardly has Jiang used legitimate means to root out corrupt officials. Behind the rogue-like investigations
lies a dirty purpose. According to one source, the real reason for Cheng’s execution was that he had
offended Jiang. Cheng once upon a time showed excessive “care” for Song Zuying, a representative of
the National People’s Congress and a singer. It touched off Jiang’s jealousy and later resulted in Cheng’s
death. Right through to his very execution Cheng had no idea who he had offended or who it was that was
so bent on ending his life.
Why Cheng was quickly executed before the Yuanhua case trials has been a mystery to those not
intimately involved with the situation. Even those in the inner circles of the CCP, including many people
from the Central Commission for Discipline Inspection and the National People’s Congress, are puzzled
by and wonder about what was behind the death of Cheng Kejie.
3. Taiwan’s Presidential Election
As soon as the year 2000 started, all of the Chinese media around the world focused their attention on the
March presidential election in Taiwan. It was a fierce campaign among the political parties involved. The
three major candidates were the chairman of the Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) Chen Shui-bian, the
chairman of the People First Party James Soong, and the chairman of the Nationalist Party (KMT) Lien
Chan. Polls indicated that Chen and Soong were neck-and-neck, with Lien trailing slightly behind.
Jiang was stupefied. He didn’t know how to deal with the Taiwan election, which was drawing
international attention. He ordered the Central Propaganda Department to describe the DPP as a radical
“Taiwan independence” camp and constantly attack them in the media, hoping to sway public opinion in
Taiwan. The Taiwanese people didn’t buy it, however. The level of support Chen received remained high.
Jiang didn’t know how he would respond if Chen were really elected. War wasn’t something Jiang
wanted to launch; he trembled whenever he thought about it. On top of that, he was even more worried
that senior military leaders might gain power through the war and undermine his military authority. On
the other hand, if he chose not to go to war, what would he do about the nationalistic fervor he had stirred
up? Given the nationalistic sentiment among the general public and the pressure with respect to the
military, Jiang felt he had to at least appear tough. Jiang’s power might be jeopardized if he failed to
handle the situation properly. He was overcome with trepidation every time he thought of the dilemma he
had to confront.
On Feb. 1, the U.S. House of Representatives passed the “Taiwan Security Enhancement Act,” expressing
strong concern regarding the potential war across the Taiwan Strait. Given that, he hardly dared to take a
hard line. The fiasco he suffered during the 1996 military exercise in the Taiwan Strait, where a missile
exercise meant to demonstrate Chinese military might was humiliatingly cut short by U.S. intervention,
was still fresh in his mind. Dealing with foreigners was undoubtedly Jiang’s Achilles Heel—his spine
would turn to jello upon being confronted by a foreign power.
As head of state, Jiang had to take a political stance regarding Taiwan’s election. Jiang chose, as in
previous times, to make a political show of it.
On March 4, Jiang addressed the representatives at the 3rd Session of the 9th National People’s Congress
in Beijing. He made sure to speak sternly, saying that he “would be forced to take decisive measures if
Taiwan’s authority indefinitely refused to negotiate a peaceful settlement on the issue of reunification.”
And he called upon the representatives to “take a firm stand on the issue of Taiwan and its implications
on Sino-U.S. relations.”
Any perceptive person, however, could see that he was playing word games. The speech left him a lot of
wiggle room. The statement contained the following: “If Taiwan’s authority indefinitely refuses to
negotiate a peaceful settlement on the issue of reunification,” but at that point there was no definite
indicator as to who would be Taiwan’s authority. No matter who was elected, the truth was, he would
assert that he was Taiwan’s authority. So Jiang’s speech was equivalent to not taking any stance, a far cry
from how the Chinese media spun his speech as being “absolutely against Taiwan independence.” Also,
the term “indefinitely” is equivocal. How long is “indefinitely”? Years? Decades? In short, even if
Taiwan refused to negotiate with respect to reunification during the years that remained in Jiang’s
administration, that would not necessarily be an “indefinite” refusal to engage in peace talks. Jiang
certainly left himself with plenty of backdoors.
But Jiang tried to make a show of strength. CCTV broadcasted a series called “Chinese Troops” during
that period, which was a thinly veiled threat. Troops were mobilized toward the regions neighboring the
Taiwan Strait, implying that war would be inevitable if Chen Shui-bian was elected. The public seemed
on edge. However, permits were not granted when students from several universities in Beijing planned to
stage demonstrations to express their dissatisfaction. The several small demonstrations that did take place
were dispersed quickly. What Jiang was afraid of was that, once people were given an outlet for free
expression, long-suppressed dissatisfaction would erupt. That would jeopardize the Communist
government’s power, as well as Jiang’s position as General Secretary.
Whenever Jiang faced tough problems, he would think of Zhu Rongji, the man he was deeply jealous of
but often felt powerless against. Jiang looked down upon Zhu’s lack of craftiness. And he knew when to
use Zhu as his attack dog. The only thing that lessened Jiang’s jealousy and hatred of Zhu was the thought
of exploiting him. At those times he would be secretly happy.
Since Zhu was in charge of the economy, he knew better than anyone else what China could really bring
to bear and he really didn’t want to see a war take place across the Taiwan Strait. Zhu’s stance on Taiwan
was moderate, even though he appeared to take a hard line.
Jiang pushed Zhu to hold a press conference on Wednesday, March 15, less than three days before
Taiwan’s election was to be held. At the press conference, Zhu feigned anger and pounded the table with
his fist. He warned in a very stern tone that those who supported Taiwan independence would find
themselves in dire straits. He said the Chinese government would not tolerate any form of independence
for Taiwan, and that this was non-negotiable. Zhu also said that the Taiwanese people were facing a
critical choice at a historical moment, and that they should not make their decision rashly and find
themselves unable to undo their actions. A Western journalist at the conference asked Zhu what actions
China would take, and when, against Taiwan. Zhu dodged the question and simply replied, “You’ll see in
a few days.”
Taiwan’s presidential candidates responded to Zhu’s speech in different ways. The two leading
candidates both expressed objections to the speech.
DPP candidate Chen Shui-bian indicated at a campaign rally in Pingdong on the same evening that only
the Taiwanese people had the right to choose Taiwan’s leader, and that the Chinese Communist Party had
no such right. Chen asked, “Are we Taiwanese going to elect our own president or are the communist
leaders going to appoint one for us!? Are we going to elect Taiwan’s future leader or have ourselves a
chief executive of China’s special administrative region [like Hong Kong]!?”
On the same day, in front of the Chiang Kai-shek Memorial Hall in Taipei the independent candidate
James Soong told his supporters that Taiwanese would not be intimidated by the threat of military force.
Another independent candidate, Hsu Hsinliang, indicated that Taiwan must take seriously certain parts of
Zhu’s speech, but that other parts of the speech would definitely arouse resentment among Taiwanese.
Hsu advised the Taiwanese not to respond to Zhu’s speech with emotion, and stated that he wanted to tell
Zhu that one of the barriers to implementing the “one China” policy was the frequent threats from China.
Jiang didn’t expect Zhu’s speech to elicit such a strong negative reaction from the Taiwanese people.
Many young Taiwanese were angry about the threatening speech. It ended up pushing the election in a
direction that Jiang was trying to steer it away from. The matter of Taiwan’s merging with China or being
independent from it is ideological in nature, and not something that can be forced down people’s throats.
In his inaugural speech, Chen Shui-bian said something quite profound: “History has proven that war can
only bring about more hatred and animosity. It will not help the development of bilateral relations.
Ancient Chinese people emphasized the difference between a king and an overlord. They believed that a
benevolent government would make ‘those who are close-by happy, and those who are far away want to
come,’ and that ‘if the far-away people are unwilling to accept, then cultivate your own virtue to entice
them.’ These old Chinese maxims are pieces of wisdom that will hold true everywhere in the world even
in the next century.” These ideas stand in stark contrast to Jiang’s faith in power politics. Jiang utilized
the Tiananmen massacre to rise up through the ranks of the Chinese communist government. What he
puts his trust in is coercion and intimidation. He shows little respect for ancient Chinese wisdom.
On March 18, voters in Taiwan elected the opposition leader, Democratic Progressive Party chair Chen
Shui-bian, as their new president. The vote put an end to a half-century of rule by the KMT. Chen won 39
percent of all votes, followed by James Soong’s 37 percent. KMT candidate Lien Chan received only 23
percent. Over 82.7 percent of eligible voters cast their ballots. There is no doubt that the Communist’s
threatening of Taiwan voters and verbal attack on the DPP facilitated Chen’s election.
The lights were on throughout the night in Zhongnanhai immediately following Taiwan’s election. Jiang
never imagined the more-conciliatory KMT would lose so badly or that the DPP could seize political
power so easily. Jiang was so flustered that he yelled at his subordinates, denouncing them as
incompetent. Later many tried to ascribe blame to Zhu Rongji. Zhu’s image suffered a big blow in the
eyes of the Taiwanese people as well, what with him becoming a symbol for saber-rattling warmongers.
Zhu ended up the figure hurt most by Jiang’s shenanigans.
Not only Jiang was shaken by the election’s outcome: the whole top echelon of the CCP was caught off
guard and left stunned.
On the evening of March 19, 2000, the news anchorman of China’s official communist television news
read with a somber intonation a statement by the Communist Central Office of Taiwan Affairs. He read,
“We hope the newly elected DPP authorities will not go too far.” The vacuity of the statement indicated
that the CCP was at a loss over what to do. They blundered in their appraisal of the will of the Taiwanese
people.
The spokesman for China’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs, Sun Yuxi, indicated in a press conference that
Tuesday that China would “wait and see.”
Jiang came across as much more moderate compared with the tone of pre-election propaganda. He acted
as if nothing had happened, as if he had never issued a tough speech prior to the election. Jiang seemed to
have forgotten that it was he who tricked Zhu into playing the part of the villain earlier on. It now looked
like it was Zhu who had made a ruckus over nothing. Zhu regretted deeply having been a pawn in Jiang’s
game.
Several years later Lu Jiaping submitted a letter to the Communist central leadership, representatives of
the National People’s Congress, and members of the National Political Consultative Committee. He
revealed in the letter that Jiang had been two-faced in his tactics handling the Taiwan issue. Jiang pledged
on the one hand to attack Taiwan, hoping to gain the trust of generals and troops and thus maintain his
authority with the military. But Jiang meanwhile promised the president of the United States that the PLA
wouldn’t attack Taiwan as long as the U.S. supported his continuing to hold the position of Chair of the
CMC.
Jiang barked aplenty about taking military action against Taiwan, and even made gestures of attack on
several occasions. But all of it amounted to posturing, ultimately. The reality was, Jiang was using
Taiwan as a trump card. He would wave it whenever his power was threatened, pretending war was
imminent and giving the troops a sense of importance. When things had passed he would put the card
away and save it until the next crisis.
Jiang Zemin willingly placed everything on the line when he started the suppression of Falun Gong. He
knew deep down that he was stepping onto a road with no return, a fact that only heightened his fear and
madness.
1. “Destroy Their Reputations, Cut Them Off Financially, and Eradicate Them Physically”
At the beginning of the suppression, Jiang Zemin had a secret conversation with Luo Gan on the “Falun
Gong problem.” He relayed four main points to Luo:
1. “Treat them ruthlessly, especially those who petition [the government] or distribute Falun Gong
material. Once they are seized, beat them to death. Then cremate them without identifying the bodies.”
2. “Use any means that work regarding the issue [of Falun Gong], don’t feel constrained by anything,
including the law. If they die no one will be held responsible. I refuse to believe that I cannot handle
Falun Gong.”
3. “Destroy their reputations, cut them off financially, and eradicate them physically.”
4. “In general don’t issue any official documents, instead, only send encoded faxes without a signature or
transmit the information verbally using the name ‘Party Central Memorandum’!”
At the end of 1999, following Jiang’s instructions, Luo Gan had four former members of the Falun Dafa
Association sentenced to long prison terms. In 2000, Luo Gan traveled across China to transmit verbally
Jiang’s secret orders. Luo Gan visited many places before he finally returned to Beijing.
In May 2000, the Committee for Investigation on Persecution of Religion in China (CIPRC) and the Free
China Movement, based in America, published a confidential document of the CCP, which gave the
police the authority to arrest Falun Gong practitioners of their own accord and without an arrest warrant.
The document, transmitted by the Department of Public Security of Jilin Province and The High People’s
Court, stated, “We should intensify the suppression of Falun Gong. Once Falun Gong practitioners are
found, we can arrest them first, then go through the formalities later.”
However, Jiang Zemin repeatedly read in the CCP internal circulars on domestic news that more and
more Falun Gong practitioners, even including ones from North America, Europe, Australia and East
Asia, were going to Beijing to petition the government on behalf of Falun Gong. In October 2000 alone,
upwards of 10,000 Falun Gong practitioners made it to Tiananmen Square, and displayed banners reading
“Truthfulness, Compassion, Tolerance” or “Falun Dafa is Great.” Thousands of adherents continued even
to do their exercises in groups. Although the police dealt with these matters swiftly through beating,
arresting and detaining them, both Jiang Zemin and Luo Gan were shocked.
Jiang possessed the largest army, police force, spy network, and propaganda system in the world.
However, it seems he was utterly helpless in the face of the unarmed Falun Gong followers. Out of
embarrassment he grew fiercely angry. He realized that members of the Politburo, who disapproved of the
suppression, were making fun of him.
Falling into an impasse in his campaign against Falun Gong, Jiang felt a faint, inexplicable fear. It was
not a fear that arises from direct attack, but more a feeling of wandering in the dark carrying a sharp
weapon, not knowing where his opponents were or in which direction to attack.
Since arriving in Beijing in 1989, Jiang listened to Zeng Qinghong’s advice on how to capitalize on
people’s weaknesses amidst a number of power struggles. For example, to subdue Liu Huaqing, arresting
his children and torturing them was definitely effective. The best way to make Qiao Shi leave office was
by making a gentlemen’s agreement with him and not carrying it out. Bo Yibo hoped to help his son get
ahead by stepping on others, so the most effective means was to use Bo Yibo to persecute others. Jiang
knew he could take control of people by seizing on their weaknesses. As for Jiang’s subordinates, it was
even easier to manipulate them. Since some of them loved money, some loved women, and some loved
power, Jiang had every means to make them loyal to him.
But Jiang couldn’t manage to find what made Falun Gong followers tick. His understanding of the power
of spiritual belief fell squarely within the old CCP way of thinking about class struggle. He could not
understand how after dealing with these people with the harshest of disciplinary means, such as murder,
torture, lies, brainwashing, and monitoring—means which were acquired by the CCP over prior
decades—they still did not yield. He simply couldn’t figure out what they were after. But there was one
thing that he did know, which was that those people were very honest and stood by the principle of “not
returning blows and not returning insults.” Although the suppression of the group was escalating rapidly,
and thousands upon thousands of Falun Gong practitioners were dealing with all sorts of threats, insults,
torment, and imprisonment, no one attempted retaliation or resorted to any kind of violence. Jiang thought
it was inconceivable. In fact, Jiang had hoped that they would resist violently. That way he could send in
the army to squash the “rebellion” rapidly, just like what was done during the Tiananmen massacre in
1989.
Falun Gong adherents never hit back, and it appeared at times that they were being assisted by a higher
power. In October 2000, a large group of Falun Gong practitioners went to Tiananmen Square to lodge
complaints. More than 10 of them were from Nanyang City, Henan Province. They were handcuffed and
taken to a detention center by local 6-10 Office police. However, after they entered the cell, all of their
handcuffs spontaneously came off. If only one or two handcuffs had come off, one could have called it a
coincidence. But with more than 10 handcuffs coming off simultaneously, it went beyond what ordinary
reasoning could explain. When that happened, all the guards and inmates were dumfounded. Witnessing
the miraculous event, no one dared to make any trouble for the practitioners. Afterwards someone
reported the incident to higher authorities. After learning of the matter, Jiang Zemin was left in a cold
sweat and dared not to think about it anymore.
Since the persecution campaign was so senseless, the personnel in the 6-10 Offices found it hard to do
their jobs. A former 6-10 police officer who escaped to Australia in 2005 described how he felt when he
was performing that job: “At the office we often talked to each other with our mouths half-covered,
voices as low as possible, and eyes darting all around. Having been in that atmosphere for a long time, we
grew accustomed to speaking in this fashion even in public situations, as if we were afraid of being heard
or afraid that others might know what we were talking about. We were so sneaky it was as if we had
developed a mental disorder.” [1] “When we returned home, we lost our usual smiles, and replaced them
with taciturn and deep sighs. Even within the police system, ‘6-10’ became synonymous with ‘messing
around.’ The police officers said to each other privately: ‘The police officers in the 6-10 Offices are a
mess. They never do what they are supposed to do as police.” [2]
Jiang responded to the problems by simply intensifying his efforts to win the officers over with money
and power. He established more and more 6-10 Offices, elevated the 6-10 officers’ rank and status, and
guaranteed them sufficient funds. For example, in October 2000, Division One of the Tianjin Municipal
Public Security Bureau was promoted to “Domestic Safety Defense Bureau,” a deputy bureau level
agency. It was the result of a merger between the Political Defense Division and the 6-10 Office, thereby
effectively expanding the 6-10 Office to intensify its suppression of Falun Gong. The 6-10 offices, which
are units at the division level, have more power than units at any other level of the police system. The
power of 6-10 offices within the provincial police departments is so great that they can arrange inspection
of and issue orders to other units at the same level. But what is laughable is that very few police officers
responded to recruitment efforts on the part of the 6-10. Finally, the personnel were appointed through
random assignment by a computer.
The CCP’s system of suppression operates like a well-oiled machine. The 6-10 officials, who are tools in
the persecution, are actually the first victims of the persecution. Members of the 6-10 Offices, both new
and old, have to make a study of Jiang’s reasons for the suppression and have to read massive amounts of
propaganda vilifying Falun Gong, daily. Consequently, they are unwittingly brainwashed.
When the last shred of innate kindness was destroyed in the law enforcement officials, their wicked side
engorged quickly. This was when Jiang’s orders could be fully implemented. And after they carry out the
orders they are rewarded with money and promotion, similar to how animals obey their trainers in hopes
of reward.
Jiang stipulated that the amount of reward the officers in the 6-10 offices and guards in the forced labor
camps would receive (such as bonuses, promotions, and merit points) should be closely related to the
number of Falun Gong practitioners they successfully force to renounce their beliefs. As a result, under
Jiang’s orders layers upon layers of political pressure has been exerted by all levels of government
officials, and personal incentives have been offered, causing the police and guards simply to lose their
consciences. When the “People’s Police,” who wear the national emblem on their heads, do whatever
they please and treat human life as worthless, they console themselves by saying, “the orders came from
higher authorities.” Sadly, the police officers who performed such evil deeds at the beginning of the
suppression were actually the first victims.
Through this system the entire country has become mired in a disaster like never before, where “men
turned into beasts, beasts flaunted their wickedness, and the sinister acts hurt men.” The basic values of
conscience, ethics, justice, equality, and so on, which had begun making a (slight) comeback after the
Cultural Revolution, have been thoroughly destroyed once again in the suppression of Falun Gong. Falun
Gong practitioners’ persistent commitment to their teachings about “truthfulness, compassion, tolerance,”
has in a sense preserved the last bit of values that the Chinese people have left.
Among the violent means that Jiang used in the persecution, the large-scale ending of lives is the most
unnerving. According to the Falun Dafa Information Center, as of June 2005, the confirmed number of
persecution-related deaths of Falun Gong practitioners in China exceeded 2,500. And even more
unknown deaths have occurred, in the forced labor camps, brainwashing classes, detention centers, etc.
The Death of Chen Zixiu
Chen Zixiu’s death, which was widely reported by Western media, is merely the tip of the iceberg of what
is happening nationwide in the brutal persecution of the Falun Gong, a persecution under Jiang’s
direction.
Chen Zixiu was a retired laborer who lived in Weifang City, Shandong Province. She had some tough
experiences in life. Her marriage had only lasted 14 years, because when she was 37 years old, her
husband was diagnosed with late-stage liver cancer. Then, soon after her husband’s death, her mother,
who had been living with her, also passed away. She was left by herself to care for two children, one 13
years old, and the other 11.
A detailed report in the April 20, 2000, edition of The Wall Street Journal (hereafter WSJ) stated:
The day before Chen Zixiu died, her captors again demanded that she renounce her faith in Falun Dafa.
Barely conscious after repeated jolts from a cattle prod, the 58-year-old stubbornly shook her head.
Enraged, the local officials ordered Ms. Chen to run barefoot in the snow. Two days of torture had left her
legs bruised and her short black hair matted with pus and blood, said cellmates and other prisoners who
witnessed the incident. She crawled outside, vomited and collapsed. She never regained consciousness,
and died on Feb. 21.
The next day, Chen’s daughter, Zhang Xueling, saw in the morgue her mother’s remains—a sight too
gruesome to look at. Her body was covered with a cloth, and she had make-up on. Upon removing the
cloth Zhang could see that her body had been damaged all throughout, with large purple welts covering
her torso. Her ears were swollen and bruised. Her teeth were split or broken; even after the cosmetic
touch-up (by authorities, wishing to disguise their violence) bloodstains showed through. Chen’s lower
legs were swollen, while her back was marked by a six-inch-long mark from a whip. Her abdomen was
bloated. On her buttocks, thighs, and lower extremities large patches of swelling had turned black. Chen’s
clothes, mattress, and underwear were soiled with blood and excrement. Her clothes were shredded. The
facts tell that Chen Zixiu died from injuries.
After killing Chen Zixiu local police claimed that she had died from a sudden heart attack and there was
no foul play in her death. To make matters worse, the local government extorted 2,000 yuan from Chen’s
daughter, Zheng, as a “detention fee,” and another 1,000 yuan as a fee for the cotton quilt and food Chen
had in captivity.
The murderers who beat Chen Zixiu to death were not subject to any punishment. Instead, they were
rewarded and promoted. Among them Deng Ping, who was on the staff of the Chengguan Neighborhood
Administration Office, was promoted from being a probationary Party member to a full one. Gao
Xingong, another who was involved, was recognized for being a “pioneer” and a “model worker.”
After the WSJ ran the story—and on its front page, no less—about Chen Zixiu persisting in Falun Gong
until her murder, the Chinese government detained Chen’s daughter on charges of “obstructing public
security.” Moreover, her husband was forbidden to visit her during her detention. It was Luo Gan who
had ordered her arrest.
The journalist, Ian Johnson, later won a Pulitzer Prize for his series of stories on Falun Gong, of which
Chen Zixiu’s was one. This drew international attention to the plight of Falun Gong adherents in China,
and the story of Chen Zixiu, specifically, became known throughout the world. Jiang’s efforts to garner
international support for his suppression of Falun Gong failed.
Since 1999, Shandong Province has consistently been one of the regions that have handled Falun Gong
followers most harshly and violently. Luo Gan was originally from Shandong. Since the suppression of
Falun Gong began, he visited, under the directives of Jiang, Shandong Province many times to actively
supervise and reinforce the campaign and to promote the policy of suppression through Jiang’s trusted
follower Wu Guanzheng—Secretary of the CCP in Shandong Province.
In April 2004, after the tragedy of Chen Zixiu’s death was exposed by her daughter, Zhang Xueling, via
the WSJ story, Luo Gan boiled with rage and ordered the arrest of Zhang.
On Dec. 27, 2000, the WSJ ran another article by Ian Johnson, titled “How One Chinese City Resorted to
Atrocities to Control Falun Dafa.” The piece disclosed that:
Rising out of the North China Plain in a jumble of dusty apartment blocks and crowded roads, this is an
unremarkable Chinese city in every respect but one: Local police regularly torture residents to death.
Since the beginning of the year, when police killed a 58-year-old retiree, at least 10 more Weifang
residents have died in police custody, according to relatives and a human-rights monitoring group. All
were practitioners of the spiritual group Falun Dafa, which the central government banned last year.
Across this country of 1.3 billion, at least 77 Falun Dafa adherents have now died in detention, according
to reports by human-rights groups. Weifang, which has less than 1 percent of the national population,
accounts for 15 percent of those deaths.
Weifang is a prefecture-class city situated in the eastern part of China with a population of over 8 million.
Between Sept. 30 and Oct. 30, 2000, Luo Gan visited Weifang twice and stayed in Anqiu County,
assuming personal command over Falun Gong related affairs. Thirty Falun Gong followers are known to
have been killed in Weifang between July 1999 and February 2004—more than any other city of the same
class in China. This is directly related to Luo Gan’s personal supervision of the suppression in Shandong
Province.
In October 2000, a horrible and shocking event occurred at the Masanjia Labor Camp in Liaoning
Province. There guards stripped naked 18 female Falun Gong adherents and threw them into the cells of
male inmates for the men to do with as they wished; rape and sexual violence ensued. The incident was
exposed in the international media, arousing the attention of the world. Afterwards in February 2001, the
UN Commission on Human Rights stated in a special investigation report on torture against women that
Luo Gan did know the facts of the case where 18 female practitioners were stripped of their clothes and
thrown into male inmates’ cells. The incident was a concrete manifestation of Jiang Zemin’s order to
“strengthen the suppression of Falun Gong.” [3]
A Nine-Year-Old Girl Gang Raped
There are too many horrific stories to recount. Among them is one that was witnessed by Ms. Liu, who
had been staying in Beijing for a long time to appeal her own case. She related her three-day experience
while being detained in Changping County Psychiatric Hospital. In the summer of 2002, she went to
Beijing to appeal to the government, and was taken to Changping County Custody and Repatriation
Center via police car. Later she was sent to Changping County Psychiatric Hospital after protesting her
arrest. She was sent there for punishment, not for mental reasons. Liu has stated that she never actually
saw a doctor or nurse in the hospital from the beginning of her stay there to the end. She discovered that
most of the people locked up there were those who had lodged complaints with the government or were
Falun Gong practitioners; most of the staff were either police officers or hired thugs. They all carried
leather belts and if anyone was even slightly “out of line,” as they saw it, they would use a belt on them.
The detainees were not allowed to move around freely, but the thugs could go in and out of their rooms as
they pleased. Liu was locked up inside a room sealed off by three iron gates. No doctors supervised
anything.
Altogether she was detained there for three nights. She recalled that during the night, three thugs who
were called “big head,” “long hair,” and “dummy,” and who could barely speak clearly, came into her
room and gang raped a nine-year-old girl. The little girl’s parents were Falun Gong practitioners, she
says. They had been locked up in that hospital and later murdered there. Afterwards, the little girl was
gang raped by the three thugs during the night. Liu remembered that the little girl was absolutely broken
and would cry miserably. Nobody who saw what was happening dared speak up and stop the rape. It was
a living hell.
Liu said that she read several chapters of the Nine Commentaries on the Communist Party, and felt that
the description therein of the brutality suffered by Falun Gong adherents far from captured the horrific
reality. She explained that while she was in the Changping County Psychiatric Hospital, she would stay
awake until dawn every night crying miserably in extreme fear.
The Testimony of a Former 6-10 Office Official
Regarding inside stories about the 6-10 Office: More and more Chinese Communist officials can’t stand
persecuting innocent and kind citizens and have chosen to defect from the CCP, so because of this some
details about the persecution have been published publicly.
As for torture, former 6-10 Office official Hao Fengjun, who defected to Australia in May 2005,
described an account as follows: “I rushed to work and drove with a female officer to the prison of the
Nankai Branch of the Tianjin Public Security Bureau. When we arrived at the prison located at Erwei Rd.,
Nankai District, I saw Sun Ti laying on a table in an interrogation room. Sun’s eyes were so swollen
because of the beating. The policeman who interrogated Sun was a guy named Mu Ruili, the captain of
the 2nd division of the 6-10 Office of the Bureau of State Security. Mu was holding a steel rod (0.6 inch
in diameter) with screw threads that showed blood stains. There was a hi-voltage electric baton on the
table.”[4] “Sun … showed me her back. I was shocked. Almost her entire back had turned black and there
were two gashes of about eight inches in length, oozing blood.” [5] “I also saw a policeman beating her
with a metal rod that was over a foot long. When I saw this, I knew I couldn’t do this job.” [6]
After July 20, 1999, a large number of Falun Gong practitioners who had gone to appeal to the
government were abducted. Hao Fengjun stated, “Three female [Falun Gong] practitioners were sent to
our police station. They were in their forties or fifties. They were all subject to interrogation by the police.
During the more than 10 days of interrogation, I could hear extremely piercing cries whenever I went to
work. Later my colleagues in the criminal police unit told me that they were ordered to make Falun Gong
practitioners disclose their names and addresses by any means, fair or foul.”
As for murder, according to one report from an Australian news agency on June 9, 2005, a third former
CCP police officer, who is unwilling to reveal his name, testified that he personally witnessed a Falun
Gong practitioner tortured to death in the police department where he worked. Through Bernard Collaery,
a well-respected attorney in Canberra, the Lateline television program of the Australian Broadcasting
Corporation revealed of him, “He had heard the sound of someone being beaten up in the police
department, so he hurried to break it up, but he was told to leave. From there he went upstairs. His
conscience was under attack. He returned and told them to stop.” It was too late, however, as he saw that
the Falun Gong follower was tortured to death. “He saw a naked man whose head had collapsed back into
a chair. His legs were outstretched. It was obvious that he was already dead. He was scared by what was
before his eyes.”
Han Guangsheng, a former Judiciary Bureau Chief in Shenyang City, Liaoning Province, who was also
once the Vice-Director of the Public Security Bureau in Shenyang City, escaped into Canada in
September 2001. He revealed that Jiang Zemin’s orders at that time were primarily efforts to stop Falun
Gong practitioners from going to Beijing to appeal [to the central government]. “For this particular issue,
there are controlling measures from the central government all the way down to the local government.
One of the controlling measures is that if more than three Falun Gong practitioners go to appeal then the
Vice-Secretary and even the Secretary of that city have to do “self-criticism” in front of the provinciallevel [officials]. In order to save face and rank and to avoid going to the province to do self-criticism,
leaders from each city started using the power of the police and lots of money to stop Falun Gong
practitioners from going to Beijing.” “Masanjia Labor Camp implemented all sorts of methods of torture
and abuse in order to improve their ‘transformation’ [i.e., renunciation] rate. I didn’t know it initially but
later found out that the Ministry of Justice ordered all cities to go to Masanjia to learn their
‘transformation’ techniques.” “The principle technique used in Masanjia is the use of electric batons.”
Practitioner Gao Rongrong, a staff member from the financial department of Luxun Academy of Fine
Arts in Shenyang, was shocked on her face by electric batons for over six hours by Tang Yubao and Jiang
Zhaohua on May 7, 2004, in Longshan Labor Camp. Her beautiful face was severely disfigured. One year
later, Gao Rongrong was tortured to death.
From July 20, 1999, up until now more than 100,000 Falun Gong adherents, including pregnant women,
the elderly and young children have been sent to forced labor camps without trial. More than 500
practitioners were formally sentenced to prison terms. Some have been sentenced to prison terms of
upwards of 18 years. Hundreds of thousands of innocent citizens have been detained, and nearly all of
them have been treated inhumanely. What is even more shocking is that more than 1,000 Falun Gong
practitioners were detained in psychiatric hospitals and injected with drugs harmful to their nervous
systems. By June 2005, over 2,500 deaths while under police custody have been confirmed. Moreover,
the whereabouts of countless adherents are still unknown. The depth and breadth of this catastrophe is
still difficult to estimate.
2. Assassination Attempts
Jiang’s jealousy is beyond the ability of most people to comprehend. Overly strong jealousy turns into
hatred, and causes many irrational things to take place.
When just arriving in Beijing, Jiang did his utmost to fawn everyone. When he met Wu Shaozu, Director
of the National Physical Education Committee, he talked about sports and recreation news such as that of
boxing and chess. After Jiang seized power, Wu Shaozu was dismissed from his position because he
sympathized with Falun Gong. When Jiang visited Deng Xiaoping’s residence early on, he modestly
exchanged views about the art of movies with celebrity Liu Xiaoqing. Later, after his power was
consolidated he took revenge on her for making a joke about him in the past. She was detained, all her
real estate sold, and she was told to pay a large fine. Jiang proclaimed that he would keep her only barely
alive. The attendants who had witnessed his sycophancy at Deng Xiaoping’s residence were all relocated
to remote areas. Even Deng Zhifang, Deng Xiaoping’s son, was disciplined.
Jiang’s purging of people is not planned well in advance, as most outsiders might imagine. He has never
been clever enough to do that. He has ruthlessly eliminated certain political opponents for extremely
simple reasons: they contradicted Jiang sometime, stepped a little too close to the women whom Jiang
liked, unknowingly did something Jiang thought was forbidden, or did nothing but merely make Jiang
feel uncomfortable.
Jiang insisted on suppressing the Falun Gong, despite everyone’s opposition. He tossed out a pile of
untenable excuses as superficial reasons for it, but deep down it was his jealousy of Falun Gong’s founder
that he found intolerable and that spurred him on.
After Jiang’s failed attempt to extradite Falun Gong’s founder via a reduction of $500 million in trade
surplus, Zeng Qinghong secretly issued an assassination order to the network of Chinese agents. The
Ministry of State Security and the General Staff Department of the People’s Liberation Army jointly set
up a special task force which was specifically in charge of learning the whereabouts of Falun Gong’s
founder Li Hongzhi, as well as recruiting and training killers to prepare for the assassination of Mr. Li.
In December 2000, Jiang learned that Falun Gong’s founder was going to Taiwan to speak before his
students. In light of that, Zeng Qinghong dispatched personnel to Taiwan to secretly make contact with
local criminal underworld organizations. Zeng planned an assassination by offering $7 million to
assassins in Taiwan. Since Falun Gong’s founder knew about their intentions, at the last minute he
announced the cancellation of his visit to Taiwan. As a result, Jiang spent the money in vain.
Jiang and Zeng were frustrated and enraged, and went even further by issuing military orders to the task
force, demanding Falun Gong’s founder be killed at all costs. The goal of the task force was to create
trouble by framing Falun Gong, by misleading the public so that it would be hostile toward Falun Gong,
and by looking for any opportunity to assassinate Falun Gong’s founder at any cost, including at the
expense of human lives. Jiang approved the expenditure of $500,000 to recruit women to form “suicide
teams.” Following the example of the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Ealam in Sri Lanka, the women were
trained as human bombs, and were prepared to be dispatched to America. When Falun Gong’s founder
attended experience sharing conferences, they would pretend to be Falun Gong practitioners, approach the
founder and attempt to detonate the bombs on their bodies.
Shortly before the Hong Kong Falun Gong Experience Sharing Conference in 2001, Jiang obtained a
confidential report stating Falun Gong practitioners would hold a conference on Jan. 13–14, and Falun
Gong’s founder would come to make a speech on the 14th. Jiang immediately issued a secret order to at
all costs seize this opportunity for assassination in a territory under his own control. After that the
People’s Liberation Army General Staff Department, the Ministry of State Security, and the Public
Security Bureau coordinated to create an assassination plan, code named “114.” During that time, the
CCP’s overseas intelligence organs in Southeast Asia and North America all entered a state of high alert.
Nearly all the underworld organizations in Hong Kong and Macao were involved in the plan under the
CCP’s coercion and allurement. To avoid any suspicion, the plan was to be carried out by local
underworld organizations. In regards to his secret arrangement, Jiang was very confident that it would go
off without a hitch. When the conference started, the assassins were quietly thrilled while they awaited
the appearance of Falun Gong’s founder, and considered it all but done except for receiving their
compensation from their bosses.
But on Jan. 14, Falun Gong’s founder did not show up. The spies became restless with anxiety. Finally,
when the conference was close to its end, the organizers of the conference read a greeting transmitted
from America from Falun Gong’s founder to the conference audience. The assassination plan had once
again failed. After learning of the news Jiang and Zeng were stunned. When Falun Gong’s founder issued
the greetings, he said at the time that the telegram would be a big blow to someone.
Only then did the assassination team realize that Falun Gong’s founder knew very well about the
assassination plot. The plan, which Jiang had become extremely happy with, ended up in smoke.
Despite Jiang’s jealousy and assassination plot, the influence of Falun Gong’s founder kept rising. In
2001, after several months of discussion AsiaWeek announced that Mr. Li Hongzhi was the most
influential figure in Asia that year, while Jiang ranked only fourth. AsiaWeek stated that within a short
span of nine years, Falun Gong had rapidly attracted more than 100,000 (a number well underestimated)
of practitioners worldwide. Even facing the CCP’s forced suppression, the influence of Falun Gong
continued to steadily increase. Even if Mr. Li Hongzhi made few public appearances, he was still deeply
respected and supported by Falun Gong practitioners.
With the repeated failure of assassination attempts, Jiang grew more and more fearful. His task force
furthermore fell apart as its members kept meeting with inexplicable accidents. The assassination
attempts ended without any results.
Since Falun Gong’s Experience Sharing Conference in Los Angeles in 2003, Mr. Li has taken part in
nearly all large-scale activities in America, and has often spent a great deal of time answering questions
for his students.
Since the start of Jiang’s persecution of Falun Gong, Falun Gong followers around the world have been
subject to frequent harassment and threats by CCP spies. Two of the CCP’s former officials, Chen
Yonglin and Hao Fengjun (mentioned above), who were specifically in charge of suppressing Falun
Gong, escaped from two government entities that the CCP controls the tightest. One is the overseas-based
embassies and consulates, and the other is the domestic 6-10 Office. Both of the men chose to leave their
dark pasts behind and seek refuge in Australia. They exposed all kinds of scandalous inside stories about
the CCP’s persecution of Falun Gong.
Chen Yonglin made the claim that there are nearly 1,000 CCP spies in Australia. Hao Fengjun confirmed
Chen’s statement, saying China has a formidable spy network operating overseas. Chen simultaneously
exposed the CCP’s policy against Falun Gong in Australia: fight Falun Gong tit for tat, initiate attacks,
strive for [the Australian government’s] support, and win [Australian] sympathy. The evidence Chen
provided may confirm China’s extension of state terrorism from domestic to overseas in this genocide.
Australian media entity The Age reported on June 8, 2005, that the Chinese Embassy employed many
types of spy tactics to disrupt Falun Gong activities, such as surveillance, large-scale telephone tapping,
even breaking into practitioners’ residences, and so on. Ana C. Vereshaka, spokesperson for The Falun
Dafa Information Center in Melbourne, said CCP spies once broke into her residence in Balwyn and stole
Falun Gong materials.
The CCP’s actions against overseas Falun Gong adherents aim to create a climate of terror; they have the
same purpose as the assassination attempts.
3. Exclusive Interview by Mike Wallace
On Aug. 15, 2000, in order to drum up momentum for his overseas trip, Jiang Zemin arranged for Mike
Wallace, host of CBS’s “60 Minutes,” and his production team to interview him in Beidaihe. Thus, Mike
Wallace became the first American television correspondent to do a one-on-one interview with Jiang.
Wallace’s program crew had been applying for the interview for over 10 years.
The interview lasted more than three hours. The program was to be broadcasted on the night of Sept. 3
before Jiang’s visit to America. Jiang pretended to have a magnanimous attitude and indicated that the
purpose of the interview was to promote friendship between China and the U.S. He said relations between
the two countries were good overall. However, Wallace was quite straightforward with him. He hit the
nail on the head when he pointed out that Jiang’s answer was “spoken like a real politician,” and that
there was “no candor in it.”
Wallace also incisively mentioned that Jiang was the last major communist dictator in the world. Jiang
said, “Your way of describing what things are like in China is as absurd as what the Arabian Nights may
sound like.” Jiang continued, “The National Peoples Congress selects the Central Committee of the
Communist Party and the Central Committee has a Politburo. And the Politburo has a standing committee
of which I’m a member. And no decision is made unless all members agree.”
Obsessed with showing off, Jiang actually forgot some very basic facts. That is, the National People’s
Congress simply does not have the ability to elect members of the CCP’s Standing Committee, nor has it
ever. This is basic knowledge for a Chinese citizen. As the all-powerful leader of China at the time, Jiang
actually didn’t possess even the most basic concept of the laws. He was even unable to understand what
position he held. The only thing he knew was that he was the “emperor” and could do whatever he
wanted to. In fact, the CCP does not need the agreement of all of its standing members to make a
decision. The decision to suppress Falun Gong is a very good example of that. At that time six out of the
seven members did not agree with the suppression, but Jiang acted of his own accord.
Wallace asked, “Why is it that Americans can elect their national leaders, but you apparently don’t trust
the Chinese people to elect your national leaders?”
Jiang replied, “I am also an elected leader, though we have a different electoral system. Each country
should have its own system because our countries have different cultures and historic traditions, and
different levels of education and economic development.”
Jiang confused several different concepts in his remarks. Actually it should be very clear to him that he
was elected by the National People’s Congress, which is called by many a “rubber stamp.” He was
exactly the dictator who controlled the “rubber stamp.” Common people never elected him.
He defended himself by referring to China’s “specific conditions.” When looked at in comparison to the
CCP’s opinion stated a half century ago, his argument makes excellent satire.
The Chinese Communist Party’s official newspaper, Xinhua Daily, published the following passage 65
years ago:
They (the KMT) think that China cannot realize democratic politics today, but can a certain number of
years from now. They expect that only after the knowledge and education level of Chinese people are
enhanced to that of Europe and America can we realize democratic politics. In fact, under a democratic
system, it would be easier to educate and train the populace. (Feb. 25, 1939)
Five years later, Xinhua Daily additionally wrote:
To implement the general election system thoroughly, fully, and effectively so that people are able to
enjoy common and equal rights to vote and rights to be elected, we must make sure that, just as Mr. Sun
Zhongshan [Sun Yat-sen] said, before elections, local associations and people have the freedom of
election, proposing bills, promotion of candidates, and discussion. In another word, people should
definitely have the freedom of assembly, association, speech, and publication. Otherwise, the so-called
voting right is still a right only on paper. (Feb. 2, 1944)
However, presently Jiang has forgotten what the CCP called for at that time. It could be said that he has
forgotten his own origins.
When Wallace asked Jiang why China had a one-party state, Jiang replied, “Why must we have
opposition parties?”
More than 50 years ago it was the CCP, ironically, who suggested why. It declared: “To carry out
democratic politics at present, the key lies in putting an end to rule by a single party. If this issue is not
solved, then the nation’s affairs will inevitably be handled by one party. People with abilities and wisdom
will have no way to voice their ideas, and good suggestions will have no way to be implemented. The socalled ‘democracy’ then, no matter what form it would take, would only be nominal.”
Wallace remarked that there was no freedom of press in China. He stated that Americans believe an
individual’s freedom and the freedom of press are intertwined and proceeded to ask Jiang why he feared
freedom of press.
Jiang answered, “The press should be a mouthpiece of the Party.”
This was in contradiction, then, with the previous position of the CCP. On Sept. 1, 1943, the CCP’s media
once accused its rival as such:
The “theorists” of the fascist press openly and shamelessly advocate the stance of “one party, one leader,
one newspaper.” With regard to “dissident” progressive newspapers, they impose all sorts of means of
restriction, annexation, or elimination, such as examining manuscripts, deleting willfully, threatening
readers, hindering sales, dispatching spies to infiltrate newspaper offices, secretively seizing
administrative authority, and ultimately forcing buyouts or closures of media.
In the same vein Xinhua Daily wrote on Oct. 9, 1944:
At present, if we acknowledge that the postwar world is an irresistible and indivisible one, then to survive
in this world and be an “outstanding member” of the international community the first thing we need do is
respect freedom of the press, which is people’s undeniable right, and immediately put it into practice.
It’s hard to understand how more than 50 years later, when Jiang hoped to present himself to the Western
press as an “enlightened” ruler, his talking points paled so badly in comparison with even the past theory
of the CCP.
Without a doubt, what made Jiang look most foolish was the disparaging comments he made about Falun
Gong’s founder.
Wallace indicated that he was unable to understand why the Chinese authorities persecute Falun Gong.
Wallace stated that Falun Gong followers practiced exercises and believed in a spiritual life. What,
Wallace asked, made Jiang so paranoid that he needed to abuse, arrest, and kill its adherents?
Jiang responded by saying that Falun Gong’s founder, Li Hongzhi, has claimed to be a reincarnation of
the lord of Buddhas and a reincarnation of Christ and preaches an apocalyptic doctrine about the end of
the Earth and how the planet would explode. Jiang also said that Falun Gong had driven thousands of its
members to commit suicide.
Jiang was under the impression that he understood the thinking of Americans. He knew that in Western
society what would be most likely to cause hatred and misunderstanding was something that insulted
Jesus. The problem with Jiang’s line was, though, that Falun Gong’s founder never claimed to be a
reincarnation of Buddha or Jesus.
What’s more, Falun Gong’s founder never made the prediction that Earth would explode. In fact, in 1998,
he told thousands of people in a large audience that the destruction of the Earth that had been predicted by
many to occur in 1999 would not take place.
As for unfortunate things happening because of doing the Falun Gong exercises, the Chinese government
had previously carried out at least three large investigations and studies before 1999, and discovered that
Falun Gong is quite effective at healing illness and maintaining people’s health. Therefore, there really
was no excuse for the persecution. Since the beginning of the persecution in 1999, it has been stated, in
media controlled by Jiang, that 1,400 people have died because of doing the exercises. The 1,400 death
cases are of course fabricated recklessly by the Chinese authorities. However, coming out of Jiang’s
mouth, the story turned into thousands of suicides.
There are tens of millions of Falun Gong practitioners. Even if 1,400 of them died within seven years, the
death rate would be 200 people per year. That’s far lower than the normal average death rate of 0.6
percent in China. Therefore, what’s most ironic is that the 1,400 supposed death cases, even if they were
true, would not indicate Falun Gong’s shortcomings, but would instead prove Falun Gong’s healing and
fitness effects.
From the special interview with Mike Wallace, people obviously were unable to see Jiang’s “wise
image,” but instead witnessed his demeanor as a rascal and his loose tongue. It must be pointed out that
when Jiang lied to Wallace in his capacity as head of state, he took advantage of China’s national prestige
to slander Falun Gong, and in turn harmed the entire prestige of China.
4. Encountering Falun Gong During the Millennium Summit
New York City was bustling more than ever in September 2000 with the arrival of the Millennium
Summit.
According to a New York police source, during the summit period there were more than 90 approved
demonstrations, among which at least 10 were aimed at Jiang Zemin. From Jiang’s arrival to his departure
on Sept. 9, crowds protesting followed him closely. The demonstrations with the most participants and
widest influence were from Falun Gong.
Some 2,000 Falun Gong practitioners from around the world came to New York to “welcome” Jiang.
They had come from more than 30 states in America, as well as from Canada, Europe, and Australia.
They wore yellow T-shirts with the words “Falun Dafa” on them could be seen everywhere on New York
streets. Falun Gong’s large-scale activities started on Sept. 5. On that day they had many practitioners
gather to do the exercises and then distribute flyers in about six or seven different places. Besides the
Waldorf Hotel where Jiang stayed and other symbolic places, they also went to three different
Chinatowns where many Chinese people live.
Being such a marvelous sight to see in the fall, yellow became the fad that season.
At noon on Sept. 6, more than 1,000 practitioners started an eight-block long march, which called for an
end to the persecution of Falun Gong, along 3rd avenue heading north towards the United Nations’ Dag
Hammarskjold Plaza.
Since the time when the persecution of Falun Gong began over a year prior, practitioners kept petitioning
in America by holding large scale group exercise sessions, but this was the first time they had a march.
That day they also published an “Open Letter to Jiang Zemin” on an entire page of The New York Times,
requesting Jiang to listen attentively to the voices of the millions of Falun Gong practitioners and to
understand the agony which millions of Chinese people were experiencing.
Someone wearing a yellow T-shirt unexpectedly ran into the Mayor of New York City, Mr. Giuliani.
Looking at the shirt, which read, “CHINA: STOP PERSECUTING FALUN GONG,” the mayor told the
person, “You’re doing the right thing.”
Jiang in fact dreaded Falun Gong’s demonstrations. Chinese officials employed all the means they could
think of to allow Jiang to avoid Falun Gong followers. Jiang tried to pressure the New York police into
disallowing people to wear yellow T-shirts in some places. The drive from the airport in New York to the
hotel was reportedly divided into several legs and the directions for each were put into a different
envelope; they could not be opened until the motorcade was approaching the end of one leg. This could
be considered well thought out. However, even so, Jiang was startled many times by seeing peaceful and
sincere Falun Gong followers.
At noon on Sept. 8, as Jiang was just leaving a lunch meeting at the Waldorf Hotel, an adherent walked
within one meter of Jiang and shouted to him, “Please release all Falun Gong practitioners!” All the
reporters and Chinese personnel who were present heard the voice clearly. When Jiang heard the words
“Falun Gong,” his face turned pale, one of his arms rose up spontaneously and his body started to shake
uncontrollably.
On the night of Sept. 8, after attending a concert at Lincoln Center, Jiang came out from the back door
and planned to join his motorcade, which was to leave somewhere near the front exit. Before this
happened, eight members of the Party for Freedom and Democracy in China, led by Chairman Ni Yuxian,
bought tickets and entered Lincoln Center. They arrived on time and took seats in the middle of row P
behind the VIP section at 8 p.m. When the second program, “Moonlit River In Spring,” ended while the
audience was applauding, all eight of them stood up and began to applaud. By then the audience had
discovered that they were all wearing the same thing—white T-shirts with red lettering on them. Their
chests read, “Abolish the Chinese Communist Party’s One-Party Rule” and their backs had, “Jiang Zemin
is a Dictator” written on them. The audience was astonished. After approximately a half minute of
silence, the CCP’s Consul General Zhang Hongxi awakened as if from a slumber and quickly directed
procommunist overseas Chinese leaders Liang Guanjun and Hua Junxiong to round up the eight.
Still badly shaken up, at his motorcade’s first turn, Jiang caught sight of a Falun Gong adherent lifting a
banner high up toward Jiang’s face. On the banner were the English words in big letters: “Practicing
Falun Gong is a Right.” After reading the banner, Jiang jerked backwards fiercely and trembled all over.
Someone inside the car looked at the banner, and then hurried to lower his eyes.
On Sept. 9, just before Jiang left New York, Falun Gong practitioners had learned that Jiang was in one of
the buildings of the Chinese Mission of the UN on 35th street. Dozens of followers went there. Some of
them started to do their exercises on the other side of the street, some were holding posters that read,
“Stop Persecuting Falun Gong,” “Goodness Brings Good Rewards and Evil Brings Evil,” etc. to let their
voices be heard. The mission officials employed diversionary tactics and arranged for the motorcade to
start out from the front door to distract the practitioners, while Jiang slipped away out the side gate.
However, unexpectedly, when his car had just started to drive out, Jiang ran into four Falun Gong
practitioners holding a banner with shiny letters on it that said, “Falun Dafa.” When the car turned onto
First Avenue and 35th street, the scene of Falun Gong practitioners holding posters and doing exercises
once more appeared right in Jiang’s view.
It seemed Jiang couldn’t escape Falun Gong’s presence.
5. Yelling at Hong Kong Reporters
Jiang talked and laughed merrily before one of America’s most senior reporters. However, only three
months later, was he fuming with rage before Hong Kong’s junior reporters. It was the interview done by
Hong Kong reporters that showed precisely the true face of Jiang.
On Oct. 27, while meeting the leader of Hong Kong, Dong Jianhua, who earlier had come to Beijing to
report on his work, Jiang became very unhappy with the questions that were thrown at him. He rebuked
nine Hong Kong reporters on the spot, which is rare in that kind of setting.
When a female reporter was interviewing Jiang about Dong Jianhua’s report, she asked if Dong Jianhua’s
re-election was assured by Jiang’s “imperial order.” Jiang grew so furious that he accused the Hong Kong
reporters, with his incoherent Cantonese and English, of asking simple and naive questions. He said to the
reporters in English, “You are too simple, too naive” and “I am angry!” The whole process lasted four
minutes.
Jiang boldly criticized the Hong Kong reporters’ level of professionalism, stating that theirs was lower
than Mike Wallace’s. Jiang said, “You should know that Wallace is so much more competent than you. I
talked with him so naturally.” It seems that Jiang was quite proud of his performance when Wallace
interviewed him on “60 Minutes.” Since during that interview Wallace pertinently pointed out that Jiang
was the last major communist dictator in the world, a lot of Hong Kong reporters probably envied
Wallace tremendously. However, perhaps this time Mike Wallace would be the one envying someone.
Wallace is a veteran reporter who is uniquely skilled and very experienced, yet he failed to remove the
tyrant’s mask completely and make him show himself in front of the world. But in Hong Kong a very
young woman succeeded in doing that with ease. This must have made Wallace regretful.
Jiang possibly did not know that in a free and democratic country, reporters are always regarded as
uncrowned kings. Freedom of the press not only has a kind of protective function for democracy, it also
has a kind of monitoring role. Wallace is acclaimed largely for uncovering many unreported stories and
pieces of news, with keen analysis and incisive inquiry. He is simultaneously both the embodiment of and
a beneficiary of freedom of the press. Without the democratic system in the U.S., which safeguards
freedom of the press and freedom of speech, there would not be reporters like Mike Wallace who are so
competent. Jiang didn’t realize what was behind Wallace’s acclaim.
China’s reporters, by contrast, are compelled to kneel, to do their utmost to follow along with Jiang’s
deception, and to help maintain the persecution of Falun Gong. How could they achieve a high level of
professionalism? When Jiang was yelling at the Hong Kong reporters, he downright made a scene. He
told the reporters to forget about their professional ethics, and just to “make money without making
noise.”
After making a show of power before Hong Kong reporters, Jiang probably realized he had crossed the
line. He then pointed his fingers at the reporters and warned that if their reports had deviations they would
be held responsible.
Afterwards, the Hong Kong media indicated their amazement of Jiang’s admonishments. Nearly all the
daily newspapers reported the story with very eye-catching headlines, describing Jiang as “behaving
rascally.”
Could there be other secrets behind Jiang’s fury that he publicly displayed? Did it stem from the fact that
he didn’t have the power and prestige that Mao Zedong and Deng Xiaoping once possessed? Did it stem
from the fact that he no longer held absolute authority at the core of the CCP, or that there were such
challenges to his authority that even his most trusted subordinate, Zeng Qinghong, couldn’t become a
full-fledged Politburo member as he had hoped? And was a sore spot hit upon when the reporter asked if
Dong Jianhua’s re-election was assured by his “imperial order”? Or was he so beset with difficulties both
at home and abroad due to his suppression of Falun Gong that he could not control himself and keep a
leader’s demeanor? We leave it to the readers to decide.
____________________
Notes:
[1] Li Hua, “Zhuanfang Hao Fengjun: 6-10 Ban Heimu Da Jiedi” (Exclusive Interview with Hao Fengjun: Unmasking the 6-10
Office). Epoch Times Chinese, June 14, 2005. http://www.dajiyuan.com/gb/5/6/14/n955224.htm.
[2] Ibid.
[3] “Masanjia Laojiaosuo Jing Chuan 200 Ren Jiti Jueshi Kangyi” (200 People Are on Hunger Strike in the Masanjia Labor
Camp). Boxun, Jan. 29, 2005.
[4] “Hao Fengjun: Why I Escaped from China (Part II).” The Epoch Times, June 10, 2005. http://english.epochtimes.com/news/5-610/29446.html.
[5] Ibid.
[6] “Zhonggong Di Er Wei Chutaozhe Zhengshi Jiandie Zhikong” (Second Chinese Defector Backs Spying Claims). Epoch Times
Chinese, June 8, 2005. http://www.epochtimes.com/gb/5/6/8/n947844.htm.
1. The “Three Represents”
In early March 2003, the state-run People’s Daily newspaper ran an editorial unveiling a new doctrine
called the “Three Represents,” which consisted of three sentences. This was the first time the doctrine
was promulgated as “Jiang Zemin Theory”—as it was called—on a national scale. The wide promotion of
the doctrine quickly amounted to a joke.
Inventing a Theory
How did the phenomenon of the Three Represents come about? No outsiders knew at first. That would
change, however, when at the height of the doctrine’s promotion Wang Huning couldn’t keep a secret: it
was he, in fact, who had authored the doctrine. Understandably, the revelation proved shocking. Back
when Jiang Zemin was Party Secretary in Shanghai he used to recite paragraph upon paragraph of
Wang’s articles. Later, after Jiang took his post in Beijing, Zeng Qinghong and Wu Bangguo repeatedly
entreated Wang to assist Jiang and brought this up many times with Jiang. Wang thus was transferred to
Zhongnanhai.
It was on the afternoon of Feb. 25, 2000, that Jiang first put to use Wang’s new doctrine. The setting was
a meeting with Guangzhou provincial leaders at the Zhudao Hotel in Guangzhou. Jiang brought out the
freshly crafted Three Represents, stating, “The Communist Party must always represent the requirements
of the development of China’s advanced productive forces; the orientation of the development of China’s
advanced culture; and the fundamental interests of the overwhelming majority of the people in China.”
Later Wang added a few more sentences for Jiang. On May 14, at a meeting in Shanghai on developing
the Party, Jiang declared that, “Always maintaining Three Represents is the basis of our Party’s existence,
the foundation of our political power, and the source of our strength.”
Scour all of the official reports in China’s media if you will, and you will discover that not a single
person—including Jiang himself, it would seem—can explain in clear terms what the “three represents”
are. Of course, nobody in the lower echelon of government is about to dig very deeply into the matter.
The droves of corrupt officials are instead preoccupied daily with thoughts of food and drink, women,
gambling, graft, pleasure, and property. When they’re told to promote something they follow along; little
do they care about what it is they are promoting.
The theory of Three Represents amounts to little more than a few empty words. A person with good
judgment wouldn’t venture to boast about such a thing. But the theory is just too important to Jiang, for a
doctrine, Jiang knows, is necessary for lasting power. Jiang had long been anxious to mark his
achievements and had considered most every possible way to match up with predecessors Mao Zedong
and Deng Xiaoping. He needed to solidify his image as “the Third Generation [communist] theoretical
authority.” So it was that an empty doctrine, at Jiang’s instruction, was raised aloft by state-run media.
Jiang exhausted his wits trying to find a way to introduce the doctrine into the Party Constitution and that
of the nation. And the aftermath of Jiang’s efforts can still be felt. Hu Jintao, China’s current General
Secretary, chairman of the state, and head of the Central Military Commission, is obligated to uphold the
Three Represents. Similarly, most any speech that an official makes must be anchored by the doctrine.
Mixed Reactions to “Studying”
Despite Jiang’s thinking to the contrary, despite all the propagandizing by media outfits, and despite
countless meetings to study and implement it, the theory of Three Represents wasn’t something people
took seriously.
As study of the Three Represents doctrine in China peaked, [1] CCTV held special programs on a daily
basis. One feature of the programming was staged interviews with citizens about the theory. One olderaged farmer declared, “Our village built a bridge—thanks to the Three Represents.” A woman said, “My
daughter-in-law gave birth to a chubby son—thanks to the Three Represents.” Some asked that first-class
public restrooms be built in the name of Three Represents. On the wall of one rural village a sign was
posted, emblazoned with the words: “Use the Three Represents to guide our work of butchering
[livestock].” Canned comments of every sort could be seen.
Wang Bin, a Beijing-based reporter for The Epoch Times newspaper who spent three hard years in a CCP
prison (for his candid reporting), told the following story. While he was in prison authorities set things up
so that prisoners would help the authorities turn a profit. Some prisoners were assigned the task of
assembling and making pornographic literature, which was then sold to the public. At that time the Three
Represents were the buzzword in the politically-sensitive legal system, and everything had to be
connected with the theory somehow. When prisoners produced the lewd materials in quantities beyond a
set quota, they would say that their vigor was the result of “guidance from the Three Represents.”
One provincial party secretary remarked, “We have scheduled time to study [the doctrine]. We all have to
put on a good show and fulfill our obligations to our superiors. Failing that how can I keep my post as a
party secretary? Everybody should cooperate.”
Someone asked a pointed question in reply, “But is the notion of Three Represents going to create
cutting-edge science and technology, resolve unemployment problems, and solve the issue of having
hundreds of millions of surplus laborers in the countryside?” The answer was obvious, for the theory had
little bearing on the practical, immediate, and real challenges people faced.
A leader in one provincial party school asked, “If we achieve something due to the theory of Three
Represents, then how are we to explain problems and failures in our work? Would they be owing, in turn,
to problems with the doctrine of Three Represents?”
Others furthered the line of questioning, asking, “Why don’t we arrange to have those who’ve excelled at
learning the Three Represents to attend international sporting events? They’d be sure to reap gold medals,
right?”
Rejection
The theory of the Three Represents has, despite all the promotion behind it, met widely with criticism—
both from within and outside the Party.
The Ideology Division of the Qiushi Journal, the official periodical for the Chinese Communist Party
Central Committee, and the Theoretical Research Institute of the Central Committee’s Party School
expressed confusion about the origin of the Three Represents, as it was unknown in the Party’s inner
circle—an unusual occurrence indeed for an ideology at a national level. Some at the forum shared the
opinion that the doctrine was simply to prop up Jiang’s image and prestige. Others commented that the
hoopla of “studying” and “implementing” the theory within the Party was a self-deceiving exercise that
accomplished nothing of value; it was merely like checking things off on a list of chores.
The former director of the Political Systems Reform Research Institute of the CCP’s Central Committee,
Bao Tong, commented that the Three Represents encapsulated the folly and worthlessness of those who
promoted them, since to “always represent all the people of China” is empty talk, to “always represent
advanced culture” is a lie, and to “always represent advanced productivity” is to basically equate
government officials with private business owners.
Scholars from the Chinese Academy of Social Sciences argued that Three Represents was empty, passé,
and dogmatic, and said that local Party committees and governments were mostly just going through the
motions when they were promoting and studying the ideology. They asked, “After three years of
‘implementing’ the doctrine, how many problems had it solved? The dogmatic undertaking is harmful to
the country and detrimental to the people.”
Some said that the theory’s “advanced culture” and “advanced productivity” were a reference to the socalled cultural elite—a motley collection of scholars who have sold out their integrity, proponents of
dictatorship, officials who profit from illicit roles in commerce, and unscrupulous entrepreneurs—the
very same capitalists CCP theory attempted to supplant early on). As for “the fundamental interests of the
overwhelming majority of the people in China,” this is flat out deceit. Many of China’s farmers survive
by the most desperate of means, such as selling their blood and organs and going into prostitution. After
many have been infected with AIDS nobody has given them support. [2] As for the working class, the
“older brothers”—as the CCP often calls them—at least 30 million have lost their jobs in recent years, but
never did Jiang make any effort to represent them.
Plans to publish a volume of Jiang’s alleged writings—Selected Writings of Jiang Zemin on Military
Thought—prior to the 4th Plenary Session met with obstacles. A dozen or so army generals—among
whom were Zhang Zhen, Hong Xuezhi, and Yang Baibing—wrote a letter opposing the plan, saying that
Jiang was positioning himself inappropriately. Yang even stated publicly that the Three Represents was
garbage.
In 2002, the holding of the 16th CCP National Congress was delayed. According to internal sources, one
key reason for the delay was the considerable diverge of opinion within both the Party and government as
to what to make of the Three Represents and how, if at all, they could be acted on.
The Butt of Jokes
Dark humor surrounding the Three Represents has circulated widely in China. Before the recent U.S.-led
war in Afghanistan, a political joke could be heard in China that had Bush inviting Putin and Jiang to
discuss by how to bump off Osama Bin Laden. Bush expressed a wish to use missiles; Putin said he
would opt to use beautiful women, seducing Bin Laden; Jiang said he would use the Three Represents, so
as to bore him to death.
In another joke, Mao Zedong sees from the netherworld that Jiang has started forming a personality cult
of his own, so Mao was a little jealous. Mao asks his ghost compatriots how many volumes does the Jiang
Collection of theory have, to which they answer, “There’s not even enough material to fill one volume—
there’s only three speeches.” Mao then asks, “How many representatives of the people are on Jiang’s
side?” To which they reply, “We counted and recounted, but could only find three represent(ative)s.” [3]
Evident was it that the Three Represents had become the laughing stock—something ridiculed, rejected,
and disliked—of the nation.
The sweeping promotional blitz that was to bolster the shallow theory thus failed to bring Jiang the glory
of being “great, visionary, and extraordinary” as he had hoped. One can’t help but recall the words of a
bygone Chinese poet, who wrote, “Though some may carve their names in stone, hoping for immorality,
their names rot faster than their corpses.” Jiang’s thin theory, the butt of jokes far and wide, was in the
end however—at Jiang’s insistence—added to the State Constitution and the Party Constitution. It
became another comical chapter of the CCP’s history, and perhaps this was the only real impact of the
Three Represents.
2. Self-Immolation on Tiananmen Square
Challenges Mobilizing the Masses
By this time almost a year had passed since Jiang launched his persecution of Falun Gong. Things
weren’t going as Jiang had pictured, however (i.e., people condemning Falun Gong en masse.) Many a lie
had been spread, many a scathing critique had been written, and countless the “study sessions” that had
been organized, yet people just weren’t buying into it. They had seen too many mass political movements
before; they know what Jiang was up to. Many people were of the belief that: “If Jiang did not like Falun
Gong, then let him go through all of that—just don’t get us tangled up in it.”
With the exception of a few regions that implemented Party policies closely, leaders in many regions—
including even 6-10 Office staff—were none too enthused. One former 6-10 officer who was in charge of
the Hangu District in Tianjin City has described the situation at that time saying:
To be honest, the people who were in charge at the local level didn’t like to do this [kind of persecuting],
as the police there lived in close proximity to ordinary people. For example, maybe you would live right
next door to me, and we would see each other all the time. How could I arrest you, then? And this was
Hangu—a small place by the sea with only four police stations. Whoever you arrested was bound to be an
acquaintance. A police officer’s wife might work together in the same work unit as the wife of the person
he arrests, for example. The police at the police station may live on the same street that they’re in charge
of, with the person they arrest living right downstairs below them. We were all neighbors and
acquaintances. If people like that don’t do anything corrupt or violate the law, could you have the heart to
arrest them? [4]
Ordinary people watched how members of the Politburo’s Standing Committee responded to Jiang’s
suppression, and they could see that none of the group actively supported Jiang. Zhu Rongji and Li
Ruihuan were especially notable for their reticence on the matter.
Public Security Departments Get Into the Act
As the way of the world has it, when there are those who are passive there are always those who are
active. One man saw in the persecution a chance to please Jiang: Luo Gan. From the very start Luo put in
a lot of effort. Originally Li Peng’s protégé, Luo’s responsibilities had him in charge of politics and law.
For some time he had been trying to use suppression of Falun Gong as a means to favor with Jiang. Luo
saw Jiang’s campaign as his ticket to membership in the elite, elusive Politburo.
Luo has been on the go ever since Jiang launched the persecution. He ordered his followers in the public
security bureaus (PSB) and throughout the legal system to devote all of their energy to “the Falun Gong
problem,” with a primary focus being the falsification of evidence.
At a provincial level leadership meeting in the public security system, an officer from the Beijing Public
Security Bureau shared the following on how false “evidence” is generated:
At the beginning of 1999, the public security system decided to “modify” existing feudalistic and
superstitious activities into “evidence” to be used against Falun Gong. The approach guided a great deal
of the work done, mislabeling all kinds of feudalistic and superstitious activities as “Falun Gong
activities” … but since there wasn’t enough time to manufacture evidence, the public security personnel
had no answers when suspicion arose about their work, so their work was impeded to a certain degree.
This officer further explained that some challenges had arisen due to a delay in expected objectives being
reached. For example, persons who personally received qiqong medical treatment from the founder of
Falun Gong and were healed of their ailments, or those who experienced the positive effects of Falun
Gong, were hard to convert. Thus the PSB had to use the method of imprisonment and limiting such
persons’ freedom so as to prevent the truth about Falun Gong from quickly spreading.
One such person is Jing Zhanyi, a former Falun Gong practitioner who was forced to give false testimony.
On Nov. 5, 2003, CCTV’s program “Focus Interview” did a special episode titled “Behind the ‘Patent’,”
in which a man named Jing Zhanyi—a Falun Gong practitioner and General Engineer at Handan Steel
Company—denied the incredible phenomena he experienced practicing Falun Gong. [5] It was aired in
many regions through various state-controlled media outlets. The CCP made Jing’s statement out to be
“evidence” that Falun Gong is a pseudoscience.
One former 6-10 official who recently broke from the CCP and defected to Australia, Superintendent
First Rank Hao Fengjun, revealed to the media how CCTV’s program was put together. In 2003 the
Public Safety Bureau and National Security Bureau in Tianjin City received a special case. The leader of
the First Team of the 6-10 office, together with four or five police officers, then went to Shijiazhuang
City of Hebei Province to handle the case. When the group returned, Hao saw in the interrogation room a
white-haired man who was in shackles. Hao later learned that man was Jing. Later a CCTV reporter came
to the National Security Bureau. He had been assigned to “interview” Jing and get footage of a senior
leader who had “repented” after practicing Falun Gong; the footage was to be played around the world.
That day’s interview was conducted under the careful arrangement of the National Security Bureau. Hao
was right outside the interview room. He heard the deputy head of the National Security Bureau, Zhao
Yuezeng, telling Jing that if he followed the script provided to him his sentence would be reduced. Doing
otherwise, Jing was told, would get him charged with treason atop other alleged crimes, and he would be
sentenced to life in prison or secretly executed. Acting under pressure, the poor, elderly Jing complied
with the demands. Soon he was seen on television everywhere denying the miraculous bodily phenomena
he experienced in Falun Gong; he was even forced to criticize the practice. Jing was later sentenced to an
eight-year prison term.
Hao Fengjun saw all of this from outside the interview room. He couldn’t help but blurt out loud, “Isn’t
this a lie, though?” Hao didn’t realize that a CCTV reporter was standing next to him at the moment.
Several days later Hao was called in to his boss’s office. He knew he was in trouble, but he directly asked,
his conscience clean, why they had threatened Jing. His boss, the deputy head of the National Security
Bureau, grew angry and pounded his desk, saying, “What’s the meaning of this—are you turning on us?”
Afterwards Hao was locked up for more than 20 days in an isolation cell; the cell, though in a northern
China jail and the temperature below freezing, had no heat.
Jiang Falls Ill
At the 5th Plenary Session of the 15th CCP National Congress, held Oct. 9–11, 2000, in Beijing, several
members of the CCP’s Central Committee called into question the persecution of Falun Gong. They
asked for an explanation of the campaign.
Among the seven members of the Standing Committee of the Politburo, four members—more than half—
namely, Zhu Rongji, Hu Jintao, Li Ruihuan, and Wei Jianxing, opposed continuation of the persecution of
Falun Gong. Meanwhile the former head of the People’s Congress, Qiao Shi, expressed that he was
disturbed by the killing of innocent Falun Gong adherents. He returned from some distance to Beijing and
went to Tiananmen Square to see firsthand the beating and arrest of adherents that he had heard about.
The Premier of the State Council, Zhu Rongji, went in person to the fifth department of the Beijing Public
Safety Bureau and urged public safety officials, “Don’t make it any harder than it already is for Falun
Gong practitioners!”
Jiang began to grow worried, with depression even setting in, reportedly, upon seeing that things were no
longer favorable for him. On the last day of 2000, Jiang Mianheng, Jiang’s oldest son, then in Shenzhen,
received an urgent notice from the CCP’s central office asking him to return to Beijing asap. It happened
that at 9 p.m. that night Jiang had experienced a heart attack and had been taken, after his doctor’s
appraisal, to the emergency room of Hospital 301.
Jiang’s medical problems seemed to give opposition a small window of opportunity. Immediately
following Jiang’s admittance to the hospital the Politburo convened a meeting. On Jan. 2, the Politburo
met to discuss political system reform and the matter of Falun Gong. At the meeting a tense exchange
took place between reformers and conservatives, only to have the two sides end up in stalemate. The
window of opportunity was thus missed and Jiang’s program of suppression continued.
The Collusion of Jiang and Luo
Even in his hospital bed Jiang was thinking about one question: how to turn the public’s sentiments
against the so-called “evil cult” of Falun Gong and incite widespread hatred.
Jiang racked his brain to come up with ways to set Falun Gong up as an “evil cult.” On Oct. 25, 1999, in
an interview with the French newspaper Le Figaro, Jiang referred to Falun Gong for the first time as an
“evil cult” (xiejiao). That same year at the Asia-Pacific Economic Co-operation (APEC) Summit meeting
in Auckland, New Zealand, Jiang personally handed the president of the United States and other leaders
booklets attempting to discredit Falun Gong. He even seized upon the opportunity of an interview with
CBS’s Mike Wallace to libel Falun Gong, claiming, misleadingly, “Thousands of Falun Gong
practitioners have committed suicide.” Media in mainland China didn’t dare to report this specific part of
the interview, fearing Jiang would be seen through and ridiculed.
Jiang thus summoned Luo Gan for many a secret meeting, plotting how to incite public hatred toward the
still-popular meditation group.
Back in May 1999 when the persecution of Falun Gong was still in its preparatory stage, Jiang and Luo
on one occasion planned a chilling “special action.” First the Central Committee’s General Office issued
a document claiming that 10,000 Falun Gong practitioners were planning to commit “group suicide” in
Xiangshan, Beijing’s western suburb. The document was then purposefully leaked to overseas media for
dissemination. Then local police, plainclothes police, and infiltrators spread the word to Falun Gong
adherents that there would be a large “gathering” in Xiangshan. Along with this army troops were
dispatched to Xiangshan, and armed riot police were positioned there in hiding. The whole thing was an
elaborate trap. Falun Gong practitioners were meant to be lured to there, to Xiangshan, where they would
be murdered. The scene would then be portrayed in state-run media propaganda as a tragic “collective
suicide” or “failed suicide.” Jiang would then have grounds to label Falun Gong an “evil cult,” and efforts
to frame and suppress the group could expand with ease. But as it turned out, not a single Falun Gong
practitioner went to Xiangshan. Three times between May 1 and Sept. 9 police and plainclothes police
changed the “gathering date” they passed on to Falun Gong practitioners, hoping for better results.
Nothing came of the ploy in the end.
Collective acts of cult suicide are well known, of course. But the teachings of Falun Gong are very
specific in forbidding killing of any form, suicide included. Followers of Falun Gong in China were clear
on this principle, despite that Jiang’s regime had banned all books and materials related to the practice
(even confiscating and destroying millions of items) and blocked off all websites related to Falun Gong.
Enticing adherents into collective suicide just wasn’t going to work.
After repeated failures to entrap Falun Gong practitioners, Jiang sought out Luo Gan several times to
secretly discuss ways to create a bombshell that would demonize Falun Gong. Luo gave Jiang a guarantee
that this time, he would succeed.
Luo started off by sowing some seeds of misinformation. On Dec. 29, 2000, the government-run Xinhua
News Agency ran—acting on directives from the Central Committee’s 6-10 office—an anonymous news
story that told of a “failed group suicide” by Falun Gong members. The vague report failed to disclose the
names of any persons allegedly involved, the details of the event, or even its location. The report claimed
that the adherents had been “instigated” and plotted a collective suicide sometime near New Year’s Day.
The report was meant to prepare readers for what was to come.
A Bizarre “Self-Immolation”
Jan. 23, 2001, was New Year’s Eve in the traditional Chinese lunar calendar, a day of celebration.
Thousands of families busied themselves hanging lanterns and calligraphy welcoming the first spring of
the new century.
But on Tiananmen Square, the symbolic heart of the nation, clouds of smoke suddenly billowed that day.
Something was on fire. Or someone. What unfolded was a bizarre tragedy the likes of which hadn’t
occurred before: several people were ablaze on the Square. A man and four women reportedly from
Henan Province had doused themselves with gasoline and set themselves afire.
Within a minute of the fires breaking out one woman was reportedly dead; the flames engulfing the other
four figures were said to have been extinguished within “a minute and half.” Police vans were seen
“rushing to the scene like lightning” and carrying off the four charred figures for emergency rescue. Less
than two hours later the state-run Xinhua News broadcast around the world—in English, notably—news
that all five persons involved were Falun Gong practitioners. The group had allegedly attempted “selfimmolation” on the Square.
Right on the heels of that broadcast, CCTV aired the several scenes from the event. The first involved a
dazed-looking 12-year-old girl and a 19-year-old woman who had supposedly listened to “demonic
instructions” and “stupidly burned themselves in an evil fire,” as the Chinese media put it. The little girl,
badly charred, had wanted to “elevate to heaven,” the news explained, showing her face covered with
blisters. Footage showed the girl calling out in agony for “mom.” Even as she lay in her hospital bed she
extended her little hand, fingers charred by the fire, and said that she wanted to “go to heaven.”
Once broadcast, the disturbing, tragic scenes stirred up tremendous anger in China. Animosity toward
Falun Gong surged, with most people quickly forgetting all the good they had come to see in the practice
and its practitioners. People forgot what they had seen with their own eyes and experienced for
themselves, as if the government’s claims were more reliable. Such was the emotional power of the
images CCTV put together. The state’s propaganda machinery had now emerged from its period of lull
with a vengeance. Personalities of every sort appeared on state-run television to condemn Falun Gong. As
they spoke CCTV would insert periodically, for added effect, a chilling scene or two from the
immolations.
Jiang could finally let out a long sigh of relief at seeing all of this. But he wasn’t about to let down his
guard; he wanted an absolute victory. Jiang ordered media to keep up the propaganda blitz and keep the
topic hot.
At Jiang’s instruction all media outlets in China, large or small, thus launched a new campaign of
criticism targeting Falun Gong. The general office of the CCP’s Central Committee issued a notice
declaring that a nationwide political movement be launched to “further expose and criticize the true face
of the Falun Gong evil cult.” In the four days following Jan. 23 (the day of the immolation), Xinhua News
Agency and China News Agency published online 107 and 64 articles, respectively, criticizing and
condemning Falun Gong. State-run media claimed that “the public” in at least 14 provinces,
municipalities, and regions had come forward in droves to denounce the Falun Gong. Leaders in the
Party, government, and military along with civic groups of every variety were required to show support
for the Central Committee’s “wise decision.” Local-level organizations were required, meanwhile, to
organize “criticism meetings,” big and small, to condemn “the unspeakable crimes of the evil cult.” Daily
CCTV broadcast interviews with people from various walks of life who showed support, replaying the
segments often enough to ensure no eyes or ears were missed. The goal was to have everyone come to
hate Falun Gong.
Many Suspicious Features
From the day when news of the immolation broke, overseas media and Falun Gong websites called into
question the veracity of the incident and Chinese media accounts.
One analysis was particularly revealing. It featured a slow-motion replay of immolation footage in which
was clearly visible a police officer dealing a crippling blow to the head of Liu Chunling, the woman who
died on the scene; a heavy object was in the officer’s hand. The widely viewed video titled, Selfimmolation or Deception? took CCTV’s footage of the incident and analyzed it with the help of slowmotion technology. A subsequent documentary False Fire, produced by New Tang Dynasty Television
(January 2002), received an honorary award at the 51st Columbus International Film Festival. Falun
Gong practitioners inside China made use of the revealing analyses and clandestinely tapped into China’s
television programming to air the truth. Jiang was terrified of these programs and ordered that no effort be
spared to block them from coming into China. On the evening of March 5, 2002, Falun Gong adherents in
Changchun City intercepted the signals of eight television channels and broadcast 45 minutes of the
programs. Jiang reacted violently and quickly, even as Kuhn tells it in his biography; to this we will
return in Chapter 19.
The documentary Self-immolation or Deception? offered the following points in its analysis. We cite
them here in full, owing to their poignancy.
1.
2.
3.
If we analyze state-run CCTV’s video footage in slow motion, we discover that immolation
victim Liu Chunling was not in fact burned to death but murdered on the scene.
Xinhua News claimed that Liu Chunling burned to death. But with the help of slow motion we
can see that while Liu was flailing about, on fire, someone hit her over the head with an object.
Liu fell to the ground instantly, and an object bounced ricocheted off the back of her skull; the
object flew several meters and landed heavily. What killed Liu then? If we freeze the film we
can see an arm swinging close to Liu’s head—the arm of a man in a thick police coat. It was he
who hit her with the object, and after the blow we can see his outstretched arm, still in place.
As for the object that flew off from the back of Liu’s head, some said it was the deadly weapon,
some said it was Liu’s hair, and still others Liu’s clothing. But all the same, the item did not
come forth from the gas emitted from the fire extinguisher being used at that time; in fact it flew
up into the air in the direction of the policeman who was holding the fire extinguisher. This
indicates that the object did not come from the fire extinguisher, but instead was some type of
object that ricocheted off of Liu’s head after it was dealt a blow. The fact that we can see that the
object appears to be bent as it flies through the air suggests just how heavy was the blow to Liu’s
skull and how forceful the assailant’s attack. We can even make out Liu’s left hand instinctively
reaching toward her head, where she was struck, as she falls to the ground.
Twelve days after the incident The Washington Post ran a front-page story titled, “Human Fire Ignites
Chinese Mystery: Motive for Public Burning Intensifies Fight Over Falun Gong.” The article detailed the
findings of the Post’s reporter Phillip Pan, who traveled to Kaifeng, China—the hometown of the slain
immolator Liu Chunling. Pan found, surprisingly, that “None ever saw her practice Falun Gong.” Then
what really was at work in the immolation?
First we should note that the CCTV’s footage of the immolation was riddled with inconsistencies. Beyond
the matter of Liu being struck by an apparent policeman, one finds the following.
1.
2.
3.
4.
There were at that time no fire extinguishers present on Tiananmen Square, and police did not
then as a practice carry fire extinguishers while on their patrol. How, then, in the span of but a
few minutes could a dozen or more fire extinguishers and a fire extinguishing blanket suddenly
arrive on the scene? That is, unless they knew in advance…
The words shouted out by Wang Jindong at the time of his immolation and aired on CCTV was
recorded so clearly that the recording distance had to be within 10 meters. Unless cameras were
ready and in place before the incident, the sounds and details couldn’t have been captured so
perfectly, as the whole episode lasted no more than a minute or so from beginning to end,
according to official reports.
The severely burned young girl, Liu Siying, reportedly had to have a tracheotomy performed as a
result of the damage her respiratory tract suffered. But after the supposed operation a CCTV
reporter interviewed her for the station’s “Focus Interview” program and Liu, miraculously,
could speak normally and even sang for the camera. This would be medically impossible
following a tracheotomy.
In the CCTV’s program Wang Jindong, who shouted out the strange remark on Tiananmen
Square while seated, clearly had a plastic Sprite bottle in his lap; the shot was filmed after the
flames that had consumed him were extinguished. In the footage Wang’s clothes were singed,
head to toe, and yet the plastic bottle on this lap—supposedly filled with gasoline—was not even
slightly deformed or damaged from the heat of the raging fire that had only moments before
engulfed him.
These and other inconsistencies have led people to suspect that the whole affair was in fact
choreographed by Chinese authorities.
Shortly after it happened that while a female reporter for CCTV’s “Focus Interview” program was
interviewing people at the Tuanhe Labor Camp about the self-immolation, one Falun Gong prisoner of
conscience there, Zhao Ming, raised the matter of the Sprite bottle. The reporter, named Li Yuqiang,
responded to the quirk candidly, saying, “We shot that scene after the fact. If it looks suspicious we’ll
stop showing it.” What was CCTV doing shooting scenes “after the fact”? Why would Wang Jindong—
someone supposedly so crazed and zealous as to set himself on fire as an act of defiance—cooperate so
fully with CCTV’s wish to re-shoot the scene? This again points to some form of conspiracy at work.
On Aug. 14, 2001, at a meeting of the United Nations the NGO International Education Development
made a formal statement which declared, “The Chinese regime points to a supposed self-immolation
incident in Tiananmen Square on Jan. 23, 2001, as proof to slander Falun Gong. However, we have
obtained a video of that incident that in our view proves that this event was staged by the government. We
have copies of this video here and those interested can pick up a copy.”
Soon after the immolation incident a popular novel that had been published 10 years prior, Yellow
Disaster (Huang Huo), was, curiously enough, banned throughout China. It would seem the supposed
self-immolation on Tiananmen Square bore surprising resemblance to an episode in Yellow Disaster. In
chapter two of the novel someone pays off terminally ill persons to burn themselves, and then uses the
incident to frame opponents in a politically-motivated persecution. Could Jiang and company have drawn
inspiration from the incident in Yellow Disaster? Why the sudden ban?
We could count among the victims of the Tiananmen immolation millions of Chinese citizens, for
through Jiang’s devious plot countless persons were fooled. Jiang planted hatred toward Falun Gong in
their hearts, and cleared the path for killing Falun Gong practitioners. Using modern technology and
propaganda techniques, Jiang deceived and incited hatred in millions of people—a shameful act the likes
of which had probably never been seen before.
However, all that Jiang accomplished was the product of lies and deceit. And it is for this reason the
immolation might ultimately prove his undoing. That is, when the intense emotions stirred by the
immolation propaganda recede, people will be able to sift the facts out from amidst the falsehoods, and it
might take as little as one flyer from a Falun Gong supporter to trigger the epiphany.
Jiang knew full well that should the truth come to light his treachery, cruelty, and cunning would be
exposed. Nothing was more frightening to Jiang than this, and it was thus that he did his best to bury the
truth. The Tiananmen immolation hence became Jiang’s Achilles heel. His carefully crafted “lethal
weapon” had now become a time bomb. As an ancient proverb has it, “Man’s plans are no match for
those of Heaven.”
3. A Short-Lived Anthrax Scare
After the attacks of Sept. 11, 2001, in New York, counter-terrorism concerns became a priority in the
West. Jiang hoped to take advantage of this.
For several consecutive years, however, Jiang had been named “an enemy of the press” and called a
“human rights scoundrel” by human rights organizations such as Amnesty International and Reporters
Without Borders. It seemed just about whatever Jiang did was criticized and every time he traveled
abroad he would meet with protest. When Jiang saw that the West was keen on fighting terrorism, he
reasoned that if he could brand those groups he didn’t like—such as Falun Gong—”terrorist”
organizations, his quashing of them would jibe with the Western world. Who could oppose him, then?
Soon after 9-11 an anthrax scare occurred in the U.S. when powder containing the deadly virus was sent
via postal mail. Jiang figured that an opportunity had arrived. Falun Gong practitioners by that time were
sending large quantities of informational mailings throughout China exposing Jiang’s unlawful
suppression (including the self-immolation incident). This was perhaps Jiang’s biggest headache, and so
he hoped that by linking Falun Gong with things “terrorist” he might in effect stop the informational
mailings.
Thus on Oct. 18 of the same year (2001), the spokesperson for China’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs, Sun
Yuxi, claimed at a press briefing two days prior two envelopes had been mailed to China that were
suspected of containing anthrax. While Sun didn’t reveal any details, he did suggestively drop word of
one of the envelope’s supposed contents: Falun Gong informational materials.
Jiang’s Mouthpiece, Mingpao
The Hong Kong-based newspaper Mingpao was the first to cover the alleged anthrax mailing. On Oct.
17, Mingpao reported that Foreign Affairs ministry spokesperson Sun had said at a routine press briefing
the previous day that China was taking active measures to stop anthrax from entering the country.
According to the Mingpao report, Sun said with total confidence, “About anthrax, we’ve made an
investigation and not found any cases of it. In the event of an incident relevant government departments
will enhance those preventive measures already in effect.”
The CCP had its reasons when it fed Mingpao the scoop on the matter. Mingpao had nearly 50 years of
history in Hong Kong and had established distribution outlets in Canada and both the east and west coasts
of the U.S. As such people normally wouldn’t associate the paper with the bidding of the CCP. But the
reality is, Mingpao has long had close relations with the CCP. One need look back no further than one
year ago for evidence. On April 28, 2004, when the west coast edition of Mingpao was launched in the
U.S., the Consul General of the Chinese Consulate in San Francisco, Peng Yuke, attended the ceremony
and gave a congratulatory speech.
As soon as Mingpao‘s report came out, many persons living outside of China began to wonder what Sun
was implying. Was Sun implying that if anthrax were to appear in China, it would have to have come
from abroad? The hunch was right. The very next day Sun said China had found anthrax that “originated
overseas.” Mingpao promptly reported this.
The next day, Oct. 18, Mingpao published an article, titled “China confirms two suspicious pieces of mail
found, one envelope sent to Chinese employee at U.S.-based company.” Sun didn’t reveal the name or
location of the company, however, nor did he explain from where the envelope originated.
The news was odd in many regards, not the least of which was its lack of basic news elements. The
reason for this, sources have said, was that Jiang Zemin, Zeng Qinghong, and Luo Gan—who were
behind the whole affair—hadn’t figured out a number of details, such as which country, were they to
allege it was the source of the anthrax, would give them the least trouble; which U.S. company was the
safest to identify; and who should be pinned as the alleged recipient of the mail and least likely to expose
the hoax.
Days passed and yet still no information of any detail surfaced.
Taking Aim at Falun Gong
The Mingpao report did say, “Ministry of Foreign Affairs spokesperson Sun Yuxi said the suspicious
material sent to the U.S. company was found inside a Falun Gong booklet, and the Chinese government is
paying much attention to this and has exercised cleaning and quarantine measures. The Ministry of Health
has also started an investigation.”
The real motive behind the news was clear: to by means of an anthrax scare escalate the framing of Falun
Gong from that of a suicidal group to that of murderers. The hope was that not only would the general
public dislike Falun Gong, but furthermore fear it and refuse its informational materials out of safety
concerns.
But few are dumber than Jiang’s advisors. Overseas media immediately ran articles asking the rhetorical
question that if the anthrax was sent inside a Falun Gong booklet, then isn’t it obvious that this was the
work of someone who wanted to frame Falun Gong—and who (other than the CCP) would do something
so foolish and shameful?
The Lie That Couldn’t Be Patched Up
Since Sun Yuxi’s remarks on Oct. 16 didn’t match up well with what Luo Gan wanted, things quickly
turned embarrassing. At the routine press briefing on the 18th Sun tried to get back on track by saying,
“Related departments discovered on Oct. 16 two pieces of mail suspected of containing anthrax, one of
which was sent to an employee at a U.S. company. China’s State Postal Bureau sent an urgent notice on
the 18th requiring that no material containing white power should be mailed in the near future so as to
prevent anthrax from entering the postal circuit.”
The CCP’s mouthpieces in China quickly hopped on board and pitched in. On the 18th, Xinhua Net ran a
story declaring, “To prevent anthrax from entering China, postal system forbids mailing of white
powder,” and “State Postal Bureau decides no white power can be sent in the near future.” Major
newspapers throughout China then ran similar articles. Sun Yuxi stated that, “The Chinese government is
paying serious attention to the matter, and health and disease prevention departments have quarantined
and sterilized those people and areas that came into contact with the suspicious powder.”
Curiously the supposed anthrax was discovered on the 16th, but the postal bureau was so negligent as to
issue an urgent notice only on the 18th; that is, only two days later did the spokesperson for the Ministry
of Foreign Affairs reveal to the media and its trusted friend abroad, reported Mingpao. And only on the
19th did many Chinese media start to carry news about the matter. If true, this would have been a
bombshell of devastating proportions, yet the CCP was very slow in its response—something in sharp
contrast to the CCP’s usual style. For example news of the supposed self-immolation was publicized
within a matter of a couple hours. According to information from CCP insiders, Luo Gan felt that it was
impractical to continue to try to use anthrax to frame Falun Gong.
If what the spokesperson for the Ministry of Foreign Affairs claimed about the anthrax had been true,
several questions would have followed immediately. For example:
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
As an incidence of terrorism, the matter should have been dealt with by the public security
system. Why was it handled then by the postal bureau?
If anthrax was discovered when mail was opened, whoever opened the envelope and discovered
it would have been contaminated. In the U.S., the virus was discovered and verified after people
displayed symptoms, but China had not acknowledged any cases of infection. Were they trying
to say that it was a different strain of anthrax, one that was asymptomatic?
Persons contaminated would be admitted to the hospital, and the hospital would be expected to
immediately report the matter to the public security system. Why did we see only the postal
bureau discussing the matter then?
Media reported that no less than 36 people were infected by anthrax in the U.S., while other
places around the world were living under the shadow of anthrax scare. With a virus as terrifying
as this, any country that discovered a case would immediately implement emergency measures
and have relevant media report on things. How come the CCP overlooked this critical step?
Why did the CCP only mention that someone had discovered “mail suspected of containing
anthrax” which was sent in “Falun Gong informational materials” and not explain more basic
facts such as from which country it was sent, which employee opened it, and at what company?
An Embarrassing End
On Oct. 23, the Public Security Bureau had to announce that the two suspected envelopes did not, after
investigation, in fact contain anthrax.
On Oct. 24, Sun Yuxi said, “About the suspicious mail, initially the white powder was found in envelopes
and suspected of possibly containing anthrax. Now, after careful testing, it has been verified that the mail
doesn’t contain anthrax. The company involved requested that we not report further on it. We respect
their wishes. We can responsibly tell everyone that inside China we have not found anyone to have been
infected by anthrax.”
Overseas print media and online news quickly accused the CCP of using the underhanded means of
supposed “anthrax-tainted mail” to frame up Falun Gong.
According to sources inside the CCP, Sun Yuxi received a stern warning from the Ministry of Foreign
Affairs, for he had “misspoke and could not remedy things in time, thus incurring negative consequences
in terms of foreign relations.” Later Sun was sent off to Afghanistan to act as Ambassador shortly after
the war there had concluded and there was still much unrest. Clearly officialdom was upset over his
performance.
4. Overseas Falun Gong Practitioners Went to Tiananmen Square
Although Luo Gan didn’t do everything perfectly in the immolation farce and there were many flaws in it,
Jiang was nonetheless quite satisfied. After all, when the audience is inside China, something like a
problem or discrepancy was easy to fix once discovered. China’s citizens have been watching CCTV for
decades, and had long since grown to trust what it says. Along with this fact, at the time of the
immolation the CCTV had run a series of popular exposé-type programs. Little could people imagine that
authorities would use a method as public, contemptible, and cruel as rigging up a self-immolation to
frame Falun Gong. Before the immolation ordinary citizens didn’t know about the deep hatred Jiang felt
toward Falun Gong and couldn’t have guessed that this was an elaborate plot to carry out a vendetta.
Therefore, when the “self-immolation” incident first came out, the average person’s kindness was given a
huge jolt by the tragic scenes, and the media propaganda only fanned it even more. The government’s
“indignation” and “condemnation” of something it had actually orchestrated thus played well to people’s
sympathies. The whole country seemed to have ignored the facts of the case, and many people passively
accepted the “evil cult” label Jiang put on Falun Gong. People who didn’t know the truth of what had
happened angrily joined the growing crowd of voices condemning Falun Gong.
But this state of affairs, so satisfying to Jiang, would prove short-lived.
At 2 p.m. on Nov. 20, 2001, as if coming from the sky, 36 persons of American and European descent
from 12 different countries converged on Tiananmen Square, gathering 30 meters south of the square’s
flagpole. They formed two rows, sat quietly on the ground with their legs crossed, and started to do the
meditation of Falun Gong. Those in the back row then unfurled a large banner on which were emblazoned
three words in both English and Chinese: “Truth, Compassion, Tolerance” (Zhen Shan Ren). The purpose
of their trip was to “make a plea to China’s leaders and seek an end to the violence and terror they have
waged against Falun Gong.”
“It was the most powerful and most solemn event I have ever witnessed in my life,” said participant Joel
Chipkar. “What I saw was over 30 people simply trying to express themselves.”
Another participant, Alejandro Centurion, later described, “Within a minute police cars roared in and had
surrounded us. The practitioners who were protesting were beaten, arrested, and dragged off by police.”
Although the protest lasted for only one minute before police arrived, the act stirred persons all around
the globe. Major media quickly did a range of interviews and reports on the group and its participants.
Many of the 36, now considered heroes by many for their courage, didn’t know one another. The way
they set it up it was quite simple. The message went: “At exactly 2 p.m. on Nov. 20, we will meditate
together south of the flagpole on Tiananmen Square. Anyone who wants to join can come.”
“I only knew a few people in the group,” said one participant of Israeli decent. “We really didn’t know
how many practitioners would actually show up. When we arrived we began looking for others.”
“We wanted the Chinese people to know that Falun Gong is being practiced all around the world and that
persecution is not acceptable. We wanted the Chinese people to know that practitioners from all over the
world have come to help and to explain that Jiang’s government is lying to them.”
The Tiananmen demonstration by the group from the West was an enormous shock to Jiang. Although its
scale wasn’t comparable to the public gathering involving 10,000 on April 25, 1999, the fact was that
now Westerners from 12 countries had voiced their protest at the symbolic heart of China—the first and
only time something of the sort was done in the CCP’s ruling history. Things were getting out of hand as
Jiang saw it.
Jiang had at the time been hoping to extend his persecution of Falun Gong throughout the world. At the
1999 APEC Summit meeting, as mentioned, he personally gave booklets denouncing Falun Gong to the
leaders of other nations. After the immolation Jiang had hoped he could disseminate the incriminating
label of “evil cult” more widely.
But Western society, what with its freedom of the press, is an altogether different entity from autocratic
China, where there is only one voice: that of the CCP. The group of 36 who gathered on Tiananmen
quickly became the focus of media in a number of countries, but unlike the immolation victims, they were
not acting under the CCP’s control. If they stayed in China longer, international media would keep their
focus on China and the protest. If things dragged on even the masses in China would started to hear about
it—something Jiang had tried to block via a media blackout on the event. If China’s people were to
analyze and evaluate the persecution, as the protest might have spurred them to do, the effect of
immolation—so carefully engineered by Jiang—would be spoiled. It could even be turned against him.
For example, the people of China might ask a number of questions. “The government says Falun Gong
isn’t welcomed outside of China or is even banned, so how come these foreigners practice Falun Gong?”
“The government says Falun Gong ‘endangers society’ and ‘harms human beings,’ so why aren’t Western
nations concerned about this ‘threat’?” “Why is Falun Gong attractive to people of other races and
cultures?”
The more Jiang thought about all this, the more scared he became. He thus quickly ordered the group of
westerners expelled from China without even a day’s delay. Back during the gathering on April 25, 1999,
Falun Gong practitioners had showed a high degree of self-discipline—something Jiang used as evidence
that the event was “well-organized” and carefully planned. Similar to the April gathering, this time
around the gathering in Tiananmen caught the National Security Bureau by surprise. This time, however,
Jiang had no desire to probe the matter. After only 20 some hours of interrogation the group from around
the world was deported and told they couldn’t enter China for five years. The state press published only
one, extremely low-key story about the protest, saying that several Westerners were “making trouble” on
Tiananmen Square and were “dealt with in a timely fashion” and deported.
This time Jiang’s fears were not groundless. The group’s gathering on Tiananmen sparked a round of
interviews and stories detailing the CCP’s suppression of Falun Gong. Jiang’s dream of demonizing
Falun Gong around the globe was shattered.
The Tiananmen demonstration enkindled in the West newfound concern over human rights in China.
Fearing what was unfolding Jiang decided to change strategy: henceforth the persecution of Falun Gong
would be covert, not overt. State reports condemning Falun Gong lessened, but behind the scenes cruel
persecution only intensified. With time the persecution went fully underground.
The Tiananmen protest generated an enduring photo. The image was captured by Canadian Falun Gong
practitioner Joel Chipkar using a hidden camera. Chipkar managed to safely leave the scene after taking
the shot. The photo captured the group of 36 as they unfurled the banner, just before police arrived.
Later John Nania, another who participated in the gathering, said, “This photo is very interesting. I was
surprised when a translator told me that at the center of the photo, behind the 36 practitioners who were
born and who live in different countries, behind our “Truth, Compassion, Tolerance” banner, was the
slogan that was written on the east side of Tiananmen, which said, ‘The Great unity of the people from
the whole world.’ This was not by accident.”
Indeed it would seem too much for coincidence. Many feel that it won’t be long before the whole world’s
people come together to oppose the persecution. In fact, this may have in fact begun.
____________________
Notes:
[1] Meetings were arranged by Party officials at various levels—and attendance in some cases even mandated—for the explicit
purpose
of
“studying”
the
doctrine
and
so-called
“Jiang
Zemin
Theory.”
[2] That is, by selling blood to blood-bank operations that failed to practice hygienic means of collection and thus infected farmers.
In
many
[3] In
cases
Chinese
the
the
government
word
for
has
not
“represents”
held
(as
in
responsible
parties
“Three
Represents”)
accountable
is
same
or
as
compensated
for
victims.
“representative.”
[4] Li Hua, “Zhuanfang Hao Fengjun: 6-10 Ban Heimu Da Jiedi” (Exclusive Interview with Hao Fengjun: Unmasking the 6 -10
Office). Epoch
Times
Chinese,
June
14,
2005.
http://www.dajiyuan.com/gb/5/6/14/n955224.htm.
[5] Jing, for example, while meditating one day peered into the molecular structure of certain materials and afterwards, drawing on
what he saw, patented his insights.
The shady dealings of Jiang Zemin and his many mistresses have long been the subject of rumors in both
official circles and among the general public. Then in 2002, much to Jiang’s indignation, an astonishing
book, titled “The First Lady Song Zuying,” appeared in Shaodong City, Hunan Province. While the
book’s publication resulted in the jailing of dozens, the arrests were unable to prevent the details of
Jiang’s sex life from coming to light.
1. Ms. Song Zuying
Among Jiang’s mistresses, Song Zuying has gained the most attention.
“Come to See Your Brother When in Need”
Song Zuying, the daughter of a poor family of Miao ethnicity in western Hunan Province, was
fortuitously selected to pursue college study in the Department of Music and Dance at the Central
University for Nationalities. By another chance, she made her debut in CCTV’s 1991 Chinese New Year
Gala and timidly sang “A Little Basket on the Back.” Although the song did not leave much an
impression on the audience, with all her makeup on, Song Zuying was especially dazzling. During her
performance, Jiang, who is old enough to be her grandfather, took a fancy to her.
Later, Jiang relocated Ms. Song to the Song and Dance Ensemble of the Political Department of the
Chinese People’s Navy, where she became a major ranking performer. In the past, it was difficult for the
Commander and Party Secretary of the Navy to see Jiang, but that situation changed, as Jiang would often
come to the Political Department of the Navy to watch performances. And every time he was present, a
particular performance by Song had to be included. At the end of the show, Jiang would go up to the
stage to shake hands with the performers, but when he held the hand of Song, he did not seem to want to
let it go. His eyes remained fixed on her, as if he would swallow her. Gradually, people seemed to wake
up to something, so every time Jiang came, they would purposely place Song in the next to last spot on
the program. In addition, they gave special consideration to her living conditions and rank.
At one point, while shaking her hand at the end of a show, Jiang covertly handed her a little slip of paper.
Song did not dare open it immediately because of the crowd, so she put it in her pocket. After she
returned home, she opened the paper and read, “Come to see your big brother when you are in need. Big
brother can help you resolve anything.” The “big brother” was nobody other than Jiang himself. Later on,
Song inadvertently revealed these words to others when she was flushed with success.
In order to protect his covert relationship with Song from external interference and exposure, Jiang asked
Song to divorce her husband. After the divorce, Song lived in the Guest House in the Political Department
of the Navy. Jiang often met Song in the Guest House at night. Jiang came secretly amidst tight security
measures, and nobody from the outside could get near him. Also, every time Jiang came, a new license
plate was put on his car so it couldn’t be identified as his specific vehicle. As soon as Jiang got out of the
car, he went straight to the room Song was in. Regarding the rendezvous between Jiang and Song in the
Guest House, the staff pretended to see nothing, but felt extremely disgusted within. Later, a senior cadre
with a sense of propriety reported the Jiang-Song affair to his superior, but as a result the cadre was put
under surveillance and his phone was monitored.
The age gap between Song, who was born on Aug. 1, 1966, in Guzhang County, Hunan Province, and
Jiang, who was born on Aug. 26, 1926, in Yangzhou, Jiangsu Province, was a 40 full years. From the
perspective of age, Jiang could have been Song’s grandfather. Thus, Song’s ex-husband, the so-called
“older brother” Luo Hao, was given a very awkward role to play. Whenever journalists interviewed Song,
the divorced ex-husband was required to be present, but was not allowed to talk to the reporters. Song left
him in another room.
The Red Card of Zhongnanhai
Song Zuying enjoys unparalleled privilege to perform or to have her performances broadcast on CCTV.
She decides by herself what songs to sing, and no directors or department heads at CCTV or even in the
central government’s Ministry of Propaganda have a say in the matter. Jiang also requested that CCTV
not divert the camera to senior officials in the audience while broadcasting Song’s performances, in order
to maintain absolute consistency in the program.
In the summer of 2002, Song traveled to a city in Sichuan Province to attend a show specifically
organized in her honor. With the approval of You Xigui, Director of the Central Guard Bureau, Zhou
Yongkang, now Minister of Public Security and then the Party Secretary of Sichuan Province, provided
Song with top security guard services—something that would normally only be available to a national
leader at a rank above Vice Premier. Of course, this was an order from Jiang.
In this show, a gymnasium that held 40,000 to 50,000 spectators was packed, as everyone wanted to see
Jiang’s mistress. Among the numbers that Song sang was a folk song of Hubei Province called “Dragon
Boat Melody.” In the lyrics of the ballad there is a dialogue: “I, a young maiden, want to cross the river,
who will give me a piggyback ride?” As she sang, when she got to this part, thousands of people in the
audience below the stage responded unanimously, “Grandpa Jiang will give you one!” Song was very
embarrassed but she could not stop the performance, because tens of thousands of people had paid for
tickets to listen to her sing. So, she had no other choice but tough it out and continue singing. When she
came to the second verse of the song, she had to repeat, “I, a young maiden, want to cross the river, who
will give me a piggyback ride?” Once again, thousands of audience members below the stage responded
loudly, “Grandpa Jiang will give you one!” After she returned to the hotel, she wept bitterly that night
until her eyes turned red. The next day, Song flew back to Beijing to complain to Jiang. Jiang was angry,
so he ordered the Party Secretary of that city in Sichuan Province to thoroughly investigate the incident.
However, the Party Secretaries nowadays have learned the knack of being officials. They did not want to
offend the people over this, so a few days later, a reply was sent to the concerned Department in the
Central government, saying that although the city’s TV station and the Public Security Bureau all video
taped the live performance that night, the cameras were all facing the stage, not the audience, so there was
no way for them to identify the “rioters.” So nothing ever came of this incident.
According to insiders, Song carried a red card that allowed her to freely enter Zhongnanhai. The so-called
“Red Card of Zhongnanhai” refers to a vehicle pass to enter Zhongnanhai. Generally speaking, only
officials at the rank of minister are entitled to have this red card. Even the Director of CCTV, who is at
the rank of deputy minister, does not hold a red card. In 1997, a female singer from another Ensemble
was given a ride with Song to a recording session at the CCTV studio. In the car, this singer happened to
open the glove compartment and unexpectedly found the Red Card of Zhongnanhai.
The story was soon spread so widely within the Ensemble of the Political Department of the Chinese
People’s Liberation Army that the literature and art departments within the PLA systems and the
telecommunication systems held multiple staff meetings requiring that all personnel concerned not
“make, spread or believe” rumors. They even went on to impose this requirement as a political discipline
by which all the staff members must abide. That female singer was dismissed before long and sent back to
Tianjin. Nevertheless, each and every person understood full well where Song’s red card was from.
The Ultimatum on the Internet
As early as 1998, the affair between Jiang and Song had been so widely spread in Beijing that it was
known to almost everybody. Taxi drivers often chatted with their customers about it as a way of killing
time in traffic jams.
One day in 2001, Zhao An, the former head of the Literature and Art Department of CCTV and for many
years director of CCTV’s Spring Festival Gala, invited some celebrated female stars—including Song
Zuying—to dinner at the Quanjiafu Restaurant. At the table, Song bubbled over with enthusiasm about
her romantic experiences with Jiang, and Zhao An secretly recorded her. Later, Zhao’s manuscript of this
recording was discovered by his collaborator, librettist Zhang Junyi. Based on the content of this
manuscript, Zhang sent over 200 anonymous letters to various state agencies, legal and disciplinary
departments and related heads to expose Zhao An and Song for their “libel of leadership.” However, on
Jiang’s orders, Zhang Junyi himself was later arrested, charged with offering and/or accepting a bribe
along with Zhao An and sentenced to a prison term. Zhang Junyi received six years, while Zhao An
received a 10 year sentence.
Later, Jiang initiated a special motion in the 16th congressional meeting, which enabled him to remain in
power as Chairman of the Central Military Commission (CMC). This irritated grass-roots scholar Lu
Jiaping and he exposed the scandal between Jiang and Song. In order to block the information from
leaking out, Jiang responded and Lu Jiaping was arrested at his home on Feb. 23, 2004.
The next day, an ultimatum appeared on the Internet, warning Jiang that there existed “professional”
editions of audio and video evidence for each of his secret meetings with Song. If Lu Jiaping were not
released the following day, the VCDs would be publicized both at home and abroad. Prior to this incident,
a pornographic VCD showing the sexual exploits of an official in Taiwan was circulated on the Internet.
Such a warning obviously hinted that some of Jiang’s rivals might have some extremely embarrassing
pornographic evidence in their hands.
To the surprise of all, Lu Jiaping was released on the same day. However, after the VCD incident settled
down, Jiang had Lu Jiaping detained again in Hunan, in order to completely shut him up.
Song continued her meteoric rise, and became a top-ranking performer of the state who enjoyed the
“Governmental Special Allowance” given by the State Council. She has also become a member of the
Political Consultative Conference, executive committee member of the All-China Women’s Federation,
member of the National Youth Federation, and a board director for the Music Association of China.
The National Grand Theatre
In order to please Song Zuying, Jiang spared no expense from the state treasury.
When Song expressed her interest in performing a solo concert in Sydney, Jiang immediately
appropriated tens of millions of yuan for the Navy to use in making Song famous in Australia. People
found it very strange that the vocal background parts were performed by non-Chinese who could not even
pronounce the Chinese words correctly. In addition, the musical instruments used were all of western
origin, even though Song is a folk vocalist and the folk songs she sings require the accompaniment of
Chinese folk musical instruments. There was only she, herself, the single soul on the stage, for a Chinese
folk music concert, while all the other performers were westerners. The concert appeared to be neither
Chinese nor western in style, giving the audience the impression of something that was neither fish nor
fowl.
The organizer of the 2002 FIFA World Cup in Korea requested that China send a celebrity singer to
perform during the opening ceremony, and it ended up that Song, who was regarded by the host as
second-rate, was dispatched. To China’s embarrassment, Korea compensated all the other stars that
appeared in the ceremony big time for their appearance, but Song did not receive even a penny.
Also, Jiang once paid over 10 million yuan to help Song publish her first selection of songs on CD, which
went on sale just prior to lunar New Year’s Eve in 2002.
But the biggest gift through which Jiang ingratiated himself with Song was the National Grand Theatre.
On Dec. 13, 2001, the Xinhua News Agency announced the groundbreaking for the National Grand
Theatre, which would be situated to the west of the Great People’s Hall. It occupies an area of 118,900
square meters, and sits on a construction site of 149,500 square meters. The total investment for the core
of the project was 2.688 billion yuan. The peripheral part of the project cost over 800 million yuan, and
was paid for by the city of Beijing. This part will be finished in four years. In addition to the above costs,
a 300 million yuan investment was required prior to the completion of the project. The grand total for the
project is 3.8 billion yuan—almost twice the sum of the donations made to the “Hope Project” from both
at home and abroad over the past 15 years. This amount could have subsidized five million poor students’
educations.
Since its inception, the project has been mired in questions and disputes.
From whatever perspective, no experts believed in the necessity of building the Grand Theatre. They all
strongly opposed and resisted this project. Scholars questioned the need to spend over 3 billion yuan to
construct such a gigantic entertainment facility, even as the basic needs for food and shelter of
unemployed workers in China could not be guaranteed. Moreover, the person in charge of the design was
a French architect, Paul Andreu, who had no experience designing theaters. In fact, on May 23, 2004, a
fatal collapse occurred at the roof of the new terminal 2E at Charles de Gaulle Airport, which was
designed under Andreu’s supervision. The accident caused six deaths and multiple injuries. The public
prosecutors’ office in Paris, France, said on May 29, 2004, that Paul Andreu, who was the general
architect responsible for the design of the terminal at the de Gaulle Airport, was suspected of being
involved in fraudulent practices in his efforts to win the bid for the National Grand Theatre in Beijing.
The French authorities initiated a preliminary investigation of this allegation in July 2003.
As architectural experts have pointed out, from a cultural perspective, the Grand Theatre gives people an
impression of a gigantic UFO full of aliens landing right in front of Zhongnanhai. Without reading any
reports about the building, people can immediately recognize that it is a huge mistake and embarrassment
to have a building that is completely out of harmony with the traditional culture of Beijing, the ancient
capital of six dynasties in Chinese history. In addition, many questions exist about its practicality.
Michael Kirkland, a member of The Royal Architectural Institute of Canada, commented that this design
had dumped architectural language and basic scientific principles down the drain; this was a very
functional building, but the designer treated it as a work of art, which was a huge mistake. After sealing
off the top with what looks like a lid and putting rooms within rooms, it is very difficult to set up any
grand stages that require a tall and big space. Some have commented that the design was as practical as
opening an umbrella indoors, and being inside felt like being trapped in a cocoon. As a result, it had to go
underground as deep as six to eight stories, a truly absurd design.
Architectural Review, the world’s most prominent architectural magazine, called the theater an “outrage”
in its December 1999 issue. It criticized Paul Andreu’s design and sarcastically called it “the perfect
epidermis of his blob.” [1] “A huge shimmering blob sits jellyfish-like in the middle of its pond: yet
another addition to the menagerie of object buildings that form the new texture of the city’s centre.”
From a bird’s eye view, the theater resembles a giant glob of phlegm, but Jiang reportedly has taken quite
a fancy to it. Robert Lawrence Kuhn wrote in The Man Who Changed China: The Life and Legacy of
Jiang Zemin, “From the southern tip of Zhongnanhai, where Jiang liked to view the moon and its
reflection on the South Lake, one could look across the waters and see the breathtaking edifice rising.” [2]
To get to the theater, Paul Andreu arranged the approach under the lake, so that the audience has to go
down through a 100 meter long tunnel, and then up again. For the Chinese people, the experience is
comparable to crossing an underground passage of a giant tomb.
The National Grand Theater is beset with other problems, such as light pollution, high cleaning and
maintenance expenses, a monthly electricity bill of 4 million yuan, and more. China is currently in dire
need of electricity. One hundred and forty scientists from the Chinese Academy of Sciences and the
Chinese Academy of Engineering, as well as 114 renowned architects, planners and engineers, presented
several joint letters to the Chinese Central government appealing to stop the plan to commission Paul
Andreu to design the National Grand Theater.
Jiang showed no regard for the scientists’ opinions. Perhaps it was a higher priority for him to please his
mistress, Song. He was determined to have it built as soon as possible. Some people came up with a
semantic joke and called the theater “National Grand Brothel.” [Theater and brothel sound very similar in
Chinese because theater is called ju yuan in Chinese and brothel, ji yuan.]
On the other hand, Song has been working hard to protect Jiang’s rule in order to repay him. Her selection
of songs consistently contain lyrics that praise the Chinese Communist Party and Jiang, such as “A Good
Life,” “It Is Getting Better,” “A Leader that Carries on the Heritage and Forges Ahead into the Future,”
“Follow You Forever,” etc.
Leaders of the Chinese central and local governments are not less eager to please Song, because they
know very well that it will be more rewarding than trying to please Jiang directly. The admirals in the
Navy have been extremely protective of young “warrior” Song and very attentive to her needs. Once the
Navy’s Song and Dance Band was going to entertain and comfort the Navy in Tibet. When a highranking Navy officer saw Song’s name on the list, he announced, “Song is not going to Tibet. The high
plain of Tibet is cold and harsh. If anything should happen to her, we wouldn’t be able to face the General
Secretary [of the Chinese Communist Party Jiang.]”
2. Ms. Li Ruiying
Song Zuying is by no means Jiang’s only mistress. She has stirred more interest and gossip from the
Chinese people because she is so seductive and flirtatious. There is a popular jingle rhymed with the
sound “ying” in China about Jiang and his extramarital affairs: “Keep an owl at home. Travel abroad with
Li Ruiying. Listen to songs performed by Song Zuying.” [The Chinese for owl is mao-tou-ying.] The
jingle refers to three women in Jiang’s life.
The owl refers to Jiang’s wife Ms. Wang Zhiping. She is a woman who has long passed her youth and
beauty and now suffers from many long-term ailments. Jiang has taken her with him on each trip abroad
just to show that he has not discarded the woman he married when he was obscure, but the truth is that he
can hardly contain his abhorrence. In 2002 Jiang and his wife were invited to visit President Bush’s ranch
in Crawford, Texas. Mr. and Mrs. Bush came out to receive the couple, but as soon as Jiang got out of the
car, he left Wang Zhiping behind and marched off towards the house. Mr. and Mrs. Bush then graciously
tended to the neglected Mrs. Jiang. Western journalists quickly captured Jiang’s tacky behavior. Prior to
the rule of the Chinese Communist Party, China has been long regarded as a country of manners and rites.
Jiang’s lack of dignity and social graces has given the Chinese people a black eye in the international
community. It is a terrible insult to the Chinese people worldwide.
The Mistresses “Battle” at Zhongnanhai
Before Jiang met Song Zuying, he had taken a married woman, CCTV news anchor Li Ruiying, as a
lover. Li Ruiying looks fairly common, but she has a very fawning, seductive manner. She is responsible
for covering each year’s Political Consultative Conference. For several years, Jiang took Li with him on
all of his trips abroad. During those trips, she worked as a field journalist during the day and as Jiang’s
concubine at night. Once she interviewed Jiang during an overseas trip, and the footage was broadcast on
the day’s evening news on CCTV. The interview caused a lot of gossip in China, for Li Ruiying acted like
she was frolicking with Jiang.
Li has been a news anchor at CCTV since 1986. Before the June 4, 1989, Massacre of college students on
Tiananmen Square, the media in China were unanimously supportive of the cause. Li talked like a
democracy advocate and a woman of justice and righteousness. But as soon as the Chinese Communist
Party declared martial law and outlawed the student movement, Li Ruiying reversed her attitude, echoed
the Party line and condemned the student movement. At the time, two new anchors, Mr. Du Xian and Mr.
Xue Fei, refused to promote the Chinese Communist Party dictatorship via the power of the media. When
Du reported the news of the June 4 Student Massacre on TV, tears welled up in his eyes. Later both men
were fired from CCTV. Li Ruiying, on the other hand, continued to work as a mouthpiece for the Chinese
Communist Party. Through this incident, the depravity of her character became self-evident.
After Jiang stuffed a note in Song’s hand containing the message, “Come to see your big brother when
you are in need. Big brother can help you resolve anything,” she began to act like an important person
because she knew she had Jiang to fall back on. One day before Jiang toured Southeast Asia, she walked
in on Jiang Zemin at Zhongnanhai while he was with Li. Song threatened to kill herself unless Jiang
would kick Li out and promise to never see her again or take her abroad as a journalist. Song reportedly
gave Jiang an ultimatum, “You can’t have both of us. Take your pick!” Jiang allegedly gave Song his
silent approval during the tantrum. Knowing she had been defeated, Li burst into tears and stormed out.
Since then, Li has never been seen with Jiang on his trips abroad, nor does CCTV allow her to read any
news regarding Jiang.
In the re-election for Vice-Chairman and Secretary of the Chinese People’s Political Consultative
Conference in 2003, a committee member cast a ballot for Song. When the announcer read, “One vote for
Song Zuying,” all the committee members burst into laughter. It became even more amusing when the
announcer read the next ballot, “A vote for Li Ruiying.” All the members winked and looked at each
other knowingly. They knew that the Vice-Chairman and Secretary had already been pre-determined and
the ballot was just for show, so why shouldn’t they have fun with Jiang’s sex scandal?
3. Ms. Chen Zhili
Among Jiang’s mistresses, Chen Zhili has been the most loyal to him and has the highest position in the
Communist Chinese government.
A Hideous Political Liaison in Addition to Sex
Following the Great Cultural Revolution, Chen Zhili started working for the Shanghai Institute of
Ceramics (SIC) at the Chinese Academy of Sciences. Jiang’s oldest son Jiang Mianheng happened to
work at SIC as well. After Jiang was appointed Secretary of the Shanghai City Committee (a position
similar to mayor), Jiang Mianheng introduced Chen to his father. Jiang and Chen hit it off right away. In
1988, Chen advanced quickly to the important position of Minister of Propaganda in Shanghai. Her
sudden rise from obscurity caused a commotion in the Shanghai City Committee, because all the
committee members knew she had advanced by granting sexual favors.
The World Economic Herald Incident was the focus of the Shanghai Students’ Democracy Movement in
1989. The senior top-leaders in the Chinese Communist Party that insisted on banning the movement with
force later approved Jiang as the next Chairman of the Chinese Communist Party because of his handling
of the World Economic Herald Incident. Chen was also very tough on this issue.
When Jiang went to Beijing in May 1989, the General Secretary of the Chinese Communist Party, Zhao
Ziyang, severely criticized Jiang because of his failure to deal with the reporting of World Economic
Herald. Jiang felt a disaster looming, but Chen immediately told him, “If the Central Government wants
to punish someone [for the World Economic Herald Incident], I will take full responsibility.” This
demonstrated Chen’s complete loyalty to Jiang. After the June 4 Student Massacre at Tiananmen Square,
Chen ordered the firing of all employees at World Economic Herald and forbid the reporters from ever
working as reporters again. When the newspaper’s editor-in-chief, Qing Benli, was near death, Chen went
to his deathbed in person and announced that he had been expelled from the Chinese Communist Party to
make sure that the editor-in-chief, a senior Communist cadre, would not die in peace.
Every member of the Shanghai City Committee at the time knew about the extramarital affair between
Chen and Jiang. After all, Jiang had established himself as the worst of libertines through his sex scandal
with Ms. Huang Liman while he was Minister of the Electronic Industry, his tacky behavior of stuffing a
note into Song Zuying’s hand, as well as his eager, lustful demeanor when he meets beautiful women,
which has been photographed by foreign journalists. The fact that the common-looking Chen was able to
secure such a relationship for several decades has proven that sex isn’t the only reason for his affairs. This
one was also a hideous political liaison.
After Jiang started working in Zhongnanhai, he wanted to bring Chen to Beijing and give her an
important position, but he did not get his wish because the former Head of the Organization Department,
Song Ping, and other leaders of the Chinese Communist Party objected. In 1997 when Deng Xiaping
became seriously ill and Jiang started to call the shots, he finally had the power to bring Chen to Beijing
and appoint her as Chairman of the Education Committee. In the first meeting of the Education
Committee that Chen attended, she was so eager to discredit the sex scandal between her and Jiang that
she began her speech by saying that she was in a perfectly happy marriage and was perfectly in love with
her husband. The committee members were dumfounded by her extreme digression from the subject at
hand, and her ploy had the opposite effect of making her indecent relationship with Jiang all the more
obvious.
Destroying China’s Education System
In 1998, Jiang appointed Chen to be head of the Education Ministry despite the fact that she had no
experience in the field of education. Later she was promoted to State Councilor at the State Department in
charge of the Nation and the Liberation Army’s education.
Chen has repeatedly faced the danger of impeachment over the past few years. At one time, over 1,200
college professors from more than 80 colleges and universities presented a joint letter to the Chinese
Central government, urging reform of the dangerously crippled education system right away. The
principals of several dozen colleges, including the most prestigious Qinghua and Beijing Universities,
called Chen the “Chinese roving Ambassador in Europe and America” because she had done nothing but
travel all around the world at the taxpayers’ expense. They repeatedly and strongly requested the
impeachment of Chen.
Finally, Chen was removed from her post, but before educators could sigh in relief, more bad news came:
Jiang broke all the rules and made Chen a State Councilor at the State Department in charge of education.
Now she was no longer the Minister of Education, she was in an even higher position: State Councilor.
When the 32 groups of representatives attending the 16th National People’s Congress were discussing the
list of new leaders at the State Department, it was alleged that 27 groups of representative and nearly 40
colleges strongly objected to having Chen as a State Councilor. However, Chen became State Councilor
at the State Department in charge of the Nation and the Liberation Army’s education—because that’s
what Jiang wanted.
The field of education is supposed to be a pure land for developing future generations of Chinese citizens,
but Chen promoted the concept of long-term economic investment in China’s education system. As a
result, schools became diploma mills, and they began increasing tuitions arbitrarily. The business of
forging diplomas, as well as the demand for purchasing diplomas, has gradually become the norm in
China. Many are outraged by Chen’s “economic reforms” in China’s education system. According to a
report from China’s Pricing Inspection and Supervision’s work meetings, the supervisory departments of
schools at many different levels, including many prestigious schools, illegally collected money under
various ruses—over 2.1 billion yuan in the year 2003 alone. According to the government’s official
statistics, China’s 10-year obligatory educational system has illegally collected 200 billion yuan, and the
schools’ collection of money for illegal reasons has become the number-one complaint for three
consecutive years. Under Chen’s leadership, China’s education system has become the primary target of
complaints.
Education is not just about collecting tuition. It has a huge impact on a nation’s future. After the fact that
Jiang betrayed China became known to the world, Chen ordered the alteration of Chinese history books in
December 2001 to favor Jiang. In the new version of history textbooks for high schools, Yue Fei and Wen
Tianxiang from the Southern Song Dynasty are no longer revered as patriots, but Li Hongzhang, the
traitor in the Qing Dynasty, is revered as a patriot. Even in the face of fierce opposition, Chen inverted the
facts and the nature of right and wrong in order to defend Jiang’s treachery from public criticism.
Moreover, Chen used education as an important means to secure Jiang’s regime. She started brainwashing
Chinese students as early as elementary school. It has become widely known outside of China that the
Chinese Communist Party staged the Self-Immolation incident at Tiananmen Square in order to incite
hatred against and justify its persecution of Falun Gong. Nevertheless, Chen ordered students in
elementary schools and high schools to sign a petition supporting Jiang’s policy of persecuting Falun
Gong. In doing so, Chen spread lies and the seeds of hatred in the students’ young minds.
During the seven years that Chen was Minister of Education, she stopped at nothing to destroy China’s
already crippled education system and poison the minds of China’s youth. Because of her depraved
education reforms, the quality of education continued to fall, as did the morality of schoolteachers. It has
become fairly common for colleges to sell diplomas and degrees. Twenty percent of China’s youth are
unable to receive the nine years of obligatory education. The morality level at high schools and colleges
has fallen to new lows, as having sex with prostitutes, gambling and cheating on exams have become very
popular.
Chen runs education like a business and promotes the selling of education as merchandise. The promise
of nine years of obligatory education was scarcely realized, but now it has completely disappeared
because of Chen. Moreover, Chen increased the quota for each college and raised tuition rates in order to
increase revenue. As a result, many farmers have to sell their blood on a regular and frequent basis in
order to pay for their children’s college tuition. On the other hand, Chen allocated very little resources to
reduce college tuitions. She also encouraged college professors to do more money-generating research.
As a result, the professors neglect their students’ education, causing the quality of college graduates to
deteriorate. Meanwhile, China’s economy is declining, so the number of unemployed people has
increased drastically. Employment opportunities have become scarce and a lot of people are looking for
jobs. It’s now fairly common for new college graduates to have difficulty finding a job. The corruption of
education and academic research has become very severe. Those who studied hard to be admitted to
college paid a huge amount of tuition but did not learn much and have difficulty finding a job. The
Chinese people are angry about the current situation in the field of education. People have even posted the
following message on the Internet: “Killing a woman like Chen Zhili is not enough to pacify people’s
anger.”
Jiang wanted to place people in his faction in the leadership ranks of the CMC in order to further secure
his power. In 2003, he nominated Chen to be part of the CMC and become involved in the national
defense and military education. However, the plan was discarded during discussions at the Standing
Committee of the Political Bureau because of a large disparity of opinions. When the nomination was sent
to the Political Bureau of the Central Committee of the Chinese Communist Party, it also faced a fierce
debate. Eleven members voted against her nomination or defaulted their votes. Many high-level leaders in
the Chinese Army despise Chen and call her “Slut Chen” behind her back.
4. Ms. Huang Liman
Huang Liman is one of Jiang’s favorite mistresses.
Rendezvous for Sex in the Office
Huang Liman is from Qiqihar, Heilongjiang Province. She graduated from Harbin Military Engineering
Academy. Huang did not excel in her academic performance, but despite her average looks, Huang has
always been known for her sex appeal. A former classmate recalled, “Students there were allowed to
dance with the opposite sex starting in middle school, and many boys fought over Huang. A
schoolteacher at Harbin Military Engineering Academy had an affair with Huang. His wife learned about
it and caused a scene, and the teacher eventually was punished for it.”
In the early 80’s, Jiang was Minister of the Electronics Industry when Huang happened to be working in
the ministry’s office. According to her colleagues at the office, Huang dressed to kill and wore a lot of
makeup when she came to work every day. The offensively strong fragrance of her French perfume and
the sound of her high heels always preceded and announced her arrival. Jiang would smile in lustful
delight.
The Chinese Communist Party organizations allow an hour for nap after lunch. At the nap hour every day,
Huang would sneak into Minister Jiang’s office. When her colleagues heard the Minister’s office being
locked next door, they would exchange complicit smiles.
Once the Chinese Central government delivered an urgent document to Jiang. The messenger knew what
was going on inside Minister Jiang’s office, so he dared not ruin his pleasure. He had no choice but to
wait anxiously for over an hour outside the door. Long after the chime announced the end of the nap hour,
Huang finally came out of the Minister’s office, her clothes in disarray. It was not until then that the
messenger was finally able to enter the office and deliver the urgent document. Later Jiang became the
mayor of Shanghai because of Wang Daohan’s help. Before he left the Ministry in Beijing for Shanghai,
he made Huang the Vice Chairman of the Administrative Office of the Electronics Industry Ministry.
Shortly after Jiang arrived in Shanghai, a direct telephone line to Shanghai was installed in Huang’s
home.
The Chinese Communist Party leaders at the level of ministry, bureau and department do not have to pay
for their residential long-distance phone calls. However, Huang’s telephone bills were exceedingly high.
Eventually the Finance Department at the Electronics Industry Ministry had to reveal her phone bills.
Finally the Telephone Bureau confirmed that the majority of the long-distance calls were made to
Shanghai and almost every call was over two hours long. The affair between Huang and Jiang could no
longer be hidden from her husband, and Huang’s husband decided to settle the divorce in court. Jiang
reportedly hurried back to Beijing and negotiated with Huang’s husband. The two allegedly came to
terms because Huang’s husband moved to Shenzhen and worked for an electronics company, while
Huang remained in Beijing alone for Jiang’s pleasure when he went to Beijing to report to the leaders at
Zhongnanhai.
Stirring up Trouble and Calling the Shots in Shenzhen
After the Tiananmen Square Massacre in 1989, Jiang transferred Huang to Shenzhen. At first, the Chinese
Communist Party leaders in Shenzhen underestimated her influence, but knowing of her affair with Jiang,
they put her in the position of Assistant Secretary-General of the Shenzhen City Committee, a position
with no real power. Huang complained about it to Jiang, asking him to seek revenge for her.
Unfortunately Jiang had not yet secured his power at that time. Besides, Huang’s boss was Ren Kelei, the
oldest son of Ren Zhongyi, a senior leader of the Chinese Communist Party. Jiang couldn’t run the risk,
so he had no choice but to ask Huang to temporarily put up with it.
In 1993, Deng Xiaoping held an inspection tour in Shenzhen. Because Jiang was opposed to the economic
reforms, he almost lost the position of General Secretary. He immediately initiated damage control by
following Deng Xiaoping’s footstep to Shenzhen.
As soon as the leaders of the Shenzhen City Committee were prepared to make a presentation, Jiang
asked in a seemingly nonchalant manner without even looking up, “Why isn’t comrade Huang here?” The
question shook Secretary of Shenzhen City Committee Mr. Li Youwei, because according to the
regulations, the Assistant Secretary-General wasn’t supposed to sit in on a meeting of this level. This was
a hint to Li Youwei that he must not underestimate the importance of Huang. Li Youwei was very
familiar with the political atmosphere, so he immediately sent a car to pick up Huang. After the meeting,
Jiang said to Li Youwei in a friendlier manner, “I have a good appetite today. Come with me to Huang
Liman’s home tonight and have some dumplings.” Later, Li Youwei rubbed his head and sighed, “That
slut from northeastern China almost cost me my job!”
Next, the Shenzhen City Committee went through reorganization and Huang became Secretary-General
and a Permanent Member of the Shenzhen City Committee. Later she became Deputy Secretary of the
Shenzhen City Committee and had an encrypted phone line at home that was connected directly to
Zhongnanhai. Since Shenzhen City was built, no political leader there had ever had an encrypted phone
line to Zhongnanhai.
Because of her political status, Huang became very wealthy. During those years there was a lot of traffic
to her home. Some people begged her for a position in the government; some people begged her to cover
up their crimes. According to a friend of mine at the prosecutor’s office, a lot of major financial criminals
were acquitted after they bribed Huang with a large bundle of money.
But the truth is that all the politicians in Shenzhen City despised Huang because they knew she climbed
up the ladder by granting sexual favors to Jiang. An undisclosed senior leader in Shenzhen City said,
“Huang Liman does not have any talent, morality, political accomplishments or support from the people.
She is only good in Jiang’s bedroom.”
To keep Huang’s husband from exploding, Jiang ordered the Shenzhen government to approve his real
estate development project in Yinhu. The Lianhe Plaza project in Shenzhen alone cost over 100 million
yuan to build and the builder was Huang’s husband.
Once Huang began calling the shots in Shenzhen, her sisters also prospered. Her first younger sister,
Huang Lirong, is Chairman of the Labor Union of a large corporation in Shenzhen. The CEO of the
corporation enquires after and pledges his loyalty to Huang and Huang Lirong every day. In 1997 when
the company began trading its stock on the stock market, the CEO gave them 50,000 shares of stock for
free. Later when the Shenzhen Cooperative Bank was founded, Huang made her second younger sister,
Huang Lizhe, the head of a department at the bank. For the past few years, the money supply for all the
banks in China has been very low, but Huang’s husband’s private company was never short of cash. The
profit from issuing loans alone would be enough to provide for several generations of people in the Huang
family.
Later, Huang became the Assistant Secretary of the Guangdong Province Committee. Before Li
Changchun was appointed Secretary of the Guangdong Province Committee, Jiang gave him special
instructions: “For every decision you make, you must consult with comrade Huang Liman first.” Li
Changchun took those words to heart and always followed Huang in making decisions. As a reward, Li
Changchun was made a Permanent Member of the Standing Committee of the Politburo of the CPC’s
Central Committee in November 2002. As for Huang, as soon as Jiang had the power to do so, he
arranged for her to become a candidate for the People’s Congress at its 16th assembly. She is now the
third candidate from the top.
Huang Liman’s Secret Stash
According to sources in China, the Chinese Central government once conducted an inspection of
government officials in some target provinces and cities, and in doing so they discovered the severity and
magnitude of corruption. As Secretary of the Shenzhen City Committee, it was shocking that Huang
could spend to her heart’s content, but the amount of her savings remained at the watermark of 50 billion
yuan.
According to the investigative report of China’s State Audit Bureau, Huang received 0.3 million yuan in
monthly benefits. The report also showed that the leaders at the provincial level in Shenzhen City
Committee and Shenzhen City Government, including Huang, each received 0.25 to 0.3 million yuan in
monthly benefits and salaries. For their personal party and banquet expenditures alone, they spent 0.15 to
0.2 million yuan renting luxurious hotel suites at the Wuzhou Hotel every month. In addition, they spent
50,000 yuan purchasing gifts every month.
During the four years Huang worked in Shenzhen, she also kept luxurious mansions in Shenzhen Bay,
Gaungzhou, Beijing and Shanghai, whose market values totaled 14 to 15 million yuan. Her mansions in
Beijing, Guangzhou and Shenzhen were paid for with her housing benefits. In other words, they were
gifts from the Chinese government. Her mansion in a scenic part of Baiyun Mountain in Guangzhou alone
has a market value of 4 million yuan. Huang did not pay for the mansion at all; she only had to pay for the
interior design expenses. In fact, there are about 40 mansions in that scenic area and most of them belong
to current and past members of the Guangdong Province Committee. Huang has another European style
mansion in Shenzhen Bay. It is 280 square meters in size and boasts a garden of over 100 square meters.
The market value is nearly 5 million yuan, but Huang paid only 50,000 yuan for it. In terms of the square
footage of her mansions and the amount of housing benefits given to her, it is against the government’s
rules and regulations for Huang to have them.
Huang has also been prosecuted for renting 16 luxurious suites in the Qilin Mansion and the Wuzhou
Hotel for a long period of time in the name of the Shenzhen City Committee. (The high-level cadres at the
provincial level use them for vacations and holidays.) The hotel expenses totaled 20 million yuan a year.
While Huang was reigning over Shenzhen City, the number of robberies rose to 600 per day on average.
Shenzhen became a paradise for criminals. After Jiang stepped down, Huang soon lost her power and was
transferred to Guangdong Province, where she became Chairman of the People’s Congress, a position
with no real power. However, it will take a long time to repair the severe damage she has done to
Shenzhen.
It must be difficult even for Jiang to keep track of the number of women with whom he has been sexually
involved. In the 50’s while Jiang studied in the Soviet Union, he had a Russian mistress named Klava.
While Jiang was head of the Electric Industry Ministry, he traveled to the United States for the first time
and slept with a prostitute in Las Vegas. Afterwards, the prostitute reportedly told the FBI, “That fatso
was a good tipper.” Naturally the Communist Chinese government paid for all the expenses. In the 80’s
when Jiang was Mayor of Shanghai, he visited San Francisco. During the tour, he made special
arrangements to go to Reno, another famous casino town in the United States. Finally Jiang lost all the
money he had, so the Shanghai City government had to wire more money over in a hurry. During the
tour, Jiang suddenly had an urge for American women. A high-level police officer responsible for Jiang’s
personal safety listened to Jiang’s special request and was completely dumbfounded. Never would he
have expected that the Mayor of the second largest city of a large nation such as China would openly
make such a tacky and indecent request for a prostitute. Even more than 10 years later, he would
occasionally talk about this incredible story with his friends.
As a libertine leading a dissolute life, it is difficult to say how many children Jiang actually has. His wife
Wang Zhiping gave birth to two sons, the older named Jiang Mianheng (formerly known as Jiang
Minkang) and the younger named Jiang Miankang. But Jiang allegedly has a third son, Jiang Chuankang,
who was born out of wedlock and has never appeared in Jiang’s family portraits. Jiang Chuankang is a
mid-level leader in the CCP’s Party Administration. He is allegedly a leader of the “610” Office.
Many men consort with women for sex. Generally speaking, when high-level Chinese Communist
officials have extramarital affairs, they pay their mistresses a lot of money but they don’t allow them to
get involved in politics. Also, most of their mistresses are single or divorced women. Jiang, on the other
hand, had sex with prostitutes at the government’s expense, and he has put his mistresses in high places of
government. These women, after being promoted to high places, were completely devoted to Jiang in
ruining China. They have assisted Jiang in destroying the Chinese people’s cultural assets and traditional
moral values. Chen Zhili destroyed China’s education system. Huang Liman promoted and accelerated
the corruption of government officials. Song Zuying sings cultural propaganda to cover up the many
crises China faces. Jiang’s Russian mistress Klava helped the Russian KGB turn Jiang into a traitor and
got him to give China’s territory to Russia. Keeping this in mind, it’s easy to see how Jiang’s lustful life
has damaged not only his personal reputation, but also China’s prosperity and the Chinese people’s
future.
5. Even Chickens and Dogs Ascend to High Places When Their Master Rises to Power
All the women Jiang has slept with ascended to high places when he rose to power. Naturally, Jiang’s
relatives have also ascended to high places.
Jiang Mianheng, the Most Corrupt Man in China
In the 1980’s Jiang sent his son Jiang Mianheng to the United States. He studied there, started his family,
had a son, and became a permanent resident of the United States. He also kept watch on developments in
China while he was in the United States. In 1992, when Jiang established complete control over the
Chinese Communist Party, the Chinese Communist government and the army, he immediately summoned
Jiang Mianheng to return and take advantage of his power to make huge profits in China. Thus, Jiang
Mianheng brought his wife and son back to China. In January 1993, he began to work as a common
researcher at the Shanghai Institute of Ceramics (SIC) in the Chinese Academy of Sciences. It raised
many eyebrows that he became the Head of SIC in just four years. As Jiang continued to stabilize and
expand his power, Jiang Mianheng started to make business investments while keeping his job at the SIC.
In 1994, Jiang Mianheng bought the Shanghai Joint Investment Company worth over 100 million yuan
for the incredibly low price of only a few million yuan borrowed from a bank. This was how Jiang
Mianheng started his telecommunications empire. Huang, the Vice Chairman of the Shanghai City
Economic Committee, originally founded the company after spending a lot of time and effort. But after
founding the company and running it for only three months, Huang was suddenly transferred back to the
Shanghai City Economic Committee. Next, Jiang Mianheng suddenly landed the position of President
and General Manager as though he came down in a parachute. As a result, he suddenly became the King
of Telecommunications in China. Mr. Huang has disappeared since then and no one can even remember
his name. This is how Jiang Mianheng robbed him of the Shanghai Joint Investment Company.
The company is registered as a state-run corporation, but it has actually become Jiang Mianheng’s private
business. With the Shanghai Joint Investment Company as his personal enterprise, Jiang Mianheng
literally owns Shanghai. Being Jiang’s oldest son, Jiang Mianheng has both money and power in his
pockets. Therefore, his business is guaranteed to be a huge success. Overseas Chinese and western
entrepreneurs, including Yahoo cofounder Jerry Yang, were eager to do business with him. In a few
years, Jiang Mianheng built a giant telecommunications empire. By 2001, Jiang Mianheng owned the
Shanghai Joint Investment Company and had control over 10 other companies through stocks, including
the Shanghai Information Network, Shanghai Cable Network, China Network, etc. He runs a wide variety
of businesses, such as cable, electronic publishing, DVD/VCD production, and broadband networks for
online businesses.
According to businessmen in Shanghai, Jiang Mianheng is President of numerous companies and has
businesses in nearly all of the most prosperous industries. He is even in the top-level management of the
Shanghai Tunnel and Shanghai Subway. A businessman once flew with Shanghai Airline. During the
flight, he accidentally saw in the company’s magazine a photograph of the airline’s board of directors
meeting. One of the men in the photograph was Jiang Mianheng. However, Shanghai Airline has never
made its official board of directors list known to the public. According to businessmen in Shanghai, Jiang
Mianheng is not only China’s king of telecommunications, but also the head of the underworld society in
the Shanghai Triad.
Success in business did not satisfy Jiang Zemin and Jiang Mianheng. After all, successful businessmen in
the history of the Chinese Communist Party were vulnerable without a high position in the Chinese
Communist government. As a result, China’s State Department announced a list of new posts on Dec. 2,
1999, and Jiang Mianheng was one of the names on the list. It turned out that Jiang had appointed him to
be the Number Two figure in the Chinese Academy of Science.
The high-profile annual Fortune Global Forum in 2001 was held in May 2001 in Hong Kong. Jiang
brought Jiang Mianheng to the forum and introduced him to some of the wealthiest and most powerful
people in the world, especially those wealthy businessmen with multi-national businesses, in order to
expand the family’s empire. On the next day when China’s application to host the 2008 Olympic Games
in Beijing was approved, Jiang Mianheng signed huge business contracts with these wealthy men. By
then, Jiang Mianheng had become the embodiment of the “commercial bureaucrat.”
China Network was formerly known as Network, which was also owned by Jiang Mianheng. At the time
Jiang Mianheng wanted to take over Northern Telecomm. Actually, under his poor management, Network
was facing bankruptcy and did not have the cash to take over Northern Telecomm. In order to solve Jiang
Mianheng’s business crisis, Jiang ordered China Telecomm to be divided into Northern Telecomm and
Southern Telecomm—then gave Northern Telecomm with its fixed assets in 10 northern provinces to
Network for free.
In September 2004, Network once again delayed the date that its stocks would be traded on the stock
market. It was the only one of the four biggest telecommunications companies in China whose stock was
not listed. October was the final deadline. Three out of the four biggest telecommunications companies in
China had the ability to trade their company’s stock on the stock market. As a son of Jiang Zemin, the
most powerful politician in China at the time, why was Jiang Mianheng unable to trade Network’s stocks
on the stock market after obtaining Northern Telecomm and all of its fixed assets in 10 northern
provinces? Where did the money go?
Before the stocks could be publicly traded, Jiang Mianheng put Network through mergers three times and
canceled them later. During the confusion of the mergers and splits, Jiang Mianheng swept the company’s
assets into his own pocket. Jiang Mianheng personally recruited Zhang Chunjiang and made him the
President of China Networks. Zhang once openly declared, “All the efforts were geared towards the
company’s stock to be traded on the stock market.” In other words, Jiang Mianheng had stolen all the
assets of Network, a supposedly state-owned corporation, before he made the hollowed out company’s
stock available for purchase on the stock market.
There is another publicly known scandal. In September 2000, Jiang Mianheng and Wang Wenyang, the
son of the wealthiest businessman in Taiwan, Wang Yongching, announced the start of Grace
Semiconductor Manufacturing Corporation (GSMC) as a joint venture with a total joint investment of
US$6.4 billion. But Wang Wenyang stated that he did not invest a penny. It was Jiang Mianheng who
came up with all the money for the investment from the bank. Jiang Mianheng capitalized on his father’s
power and became filthy rich. He has literarily become the most corrupt man in China. Moreover, Jiang
made him Number Two in the Chinese Academy of Science despite the fact that he has no academic
achievements. This was truly the most infamous scandal in the field of science in China and throughout
the world.
Zhou Zhengyi, known as the wealthiest real estate magnate in Shanghai, was arrested in May 2003.
Following his arrest, the Vice President of the Hong Kong branch of the Bank of China, Liu Jinbao, was
fired and prosecuted for cheating on his taxes, manipulating the stock market and illegally granting loans.
This case is now known as the biggest financial fraud since the establishment of the People’s Republic of
China. According to the investigation, the financial fraud was traced all the way back to Jiang Mianheng.
When Jiang Mianheng established GSMC, Liu Jinbao granted GSMC billions of business loans against
the law.
According to Hong Kong’s Open Magazine, while investigating whether Zhou Zhengyi collaborated with
government officials to steal private land, the investigators traced the crime to Jiang’s two sons. Putuo
District is adjacent to Jing’an District. The investigators discovered that Jiang Mianheng and Putuo
District authorities had stolen a large tract of land in Jing’an District through Zhou Zhengyi. The
government approved Jiang Mianheng and Jiang Miankang’s acquisition of the land they use in Shanghai,
but the problem is that they did not pay for it. Jiang Mianheng is even more wicked and coldhearted than
Zhou Zhengyi. When Zhou Zhengyi stole the land, he at least had to bribe the underworld society, the
Shanghai Gang, but Jiang Mianheng did not have to pay anyone. No one has the temerity to mess with
him, so he forced the residents off of their private property, and did not compensate them at all as he
should have.
Shortly before the 16th National People’s Congress, Jiang Mianheng inspected the No. 502 Branch of the
Information Product Ministry and watched a demonstration of the second generation of high-speed
Internet. One demonstration was designed to show the speed of Internet search engines. Wanting to please
Jiang Mianheng, the staff making the presentation used the key word “Jiang” to demonstrate a search on
Google, never expecting that three of the top 10 hits in the search results would describe Jiang’s crimes.
Moreover, the first article in the search result had the headline, “Evil Jiang.” Jiang Mianheng was both
shocked and angry.
Following the inspection, Jiang Mianheng began to escalate the efforts to filter the Internet. He is
responsible for developing the Golden Shield Project to completely control the Internet and monitor
people’s access to the Internet in China. The initial investment in the Golden Shield Project alone totaled
US$800 million. The goal of the Golden Shield Project is to completely deny the Chinese people’s right
to obtain overseas information about democracy, human rights and freedom, especially overseas
information about Falun Gong. Jiang Mianheng has become the head supervisor of the network police
under Jiang Zemin’s reign.
China Has Become Jiang’s Family Dynasty
Jiang’s younger son Jiang Miankang is not as ambitious or ferocious, but Jiang asked for Xu Caihou’s
help to make Jiang Miankang Vice Chairman of the Political Committee at the Nanjing Army Base, as
well as a Major General. Jiang Miankang has a background in radio and has never worked on anything
that has to do with the army. But Jiang does not trust anyone with military power, so he tried to transfer
Jiang Miankang to the General Strategy Department of the Chinese Liberation Army. But the head of the
CMC, Chi Haotian, objected to his nomination. Jiang had no choice but to settle Jiang Miankang in the
position of Head of the Second Bureau in the Army’s General Political Department. Soon he was
promoted to be Assistant Director of the Organization Department and next, Director of the Organization
Department.
Jiang’s uncle, Jiang Shangqing has two daughters, Jiang Zehui and Jiang Zeling. Jiang promoted Jiang
Zehui to high places. She was a common schoolteacher at Anhui Agriculture College in Anhui Province.
As Jiang continued to advance in his political career, he promoted Jiang Zehui at an incredible speed.
First he made Jiang Zehui Dean of the School of Forestry at Anhui Agriculture College, and then he made
her the Principal of Anhui Agriculture College. Finally he made her the Head of China’s Forestry
Department.
Jiang has a nephew named Wu Zhiming in Bangpu, Anhui Province. Wu had worked as a lowly
switchman for 18 years. He is a relative on Jiang’s mother’s side. Wu Zhiming is an uneducated man. It
was not until Jiang became the Secretary of the Shanghai City Committee that he became a member of
the Chinese Communist Party in March 1986 and was given a position in the Shanghai government.
Almost immediately he was made a leader in the local government. Wu is now a Permanent Member of
the Shanghai City Committee, Secretary of the Party Committee at Shanghai City Public Security Bureau,
the Head of Shanghai City Public Security Bureau and the Ranking Member of the Standing Committee
of the Shanghai City Military Police.
Jiang Zeling’s son Tai Zhan lost 11.5 million yuan in real estate. However, the trial against Tai Zhan
faced a lot of obstacles and pressure from the top because he is Jiang’s nephew. Tai Zhan was unable to
pay back the debt from the loss of his real estate investment, so he forged a company stamp of the
Yangzhou Gangzhan Real Estate Development Company, a Hong Kong company, in order to forge
documents and mortgage the company’s 45 apartments to get the cash to pay his debt. The Hong Kong
company filed a lawsuit against Tai Zhan in the Guangling People’s Court and the court started
processing the case in March 2000. Although the court verified that the company stamp on the document
was forged, it was forced to announce it had dropped the investigation and trial on March 30, 2000,
because of pressure from the Secretary of Yangzhou City Commission, Wu Donghua, Secretary of the
Yangzhou City Political and Legal Committee, Ji Rengui, and the Head of the Yangzhou Intermediate
Court Shuai Xiaofang. As a result, the company never got its property back.
According to insiders’ information, Jiang’s nephew Tai Zhan has been buying a lot of houses, stocks and
entertainment businesses for over 10 years. He is the General Manager of Yangzhou Highrise, the owner
of Tianzhan Entertainment City and the president of many joint venture companies. Tai Zhan has also
used his influence as Jiang’s nephew to get a loan of 16 million yuan for his personal stock trading from
the Northern Industry Group, a company with a military background. Since then, Tai Zhan has been very
active in the business arena.
In January 2003, Jiang made another nephew, Xia Deren, a Permanent Member of the Liaoning Province
Committee, Assistant Secretary of the Dalian City Committee and the Mayor of Dalian City. Since then,
Jiang has had his way in Dalian City when he visits, as though the city were his private property.
According to media reports, Zhou Yongkang has claimed to be Mrs. Jiang’s nephew and often boasts that
he is very close to “Chairman Jiang.” Zhou Yongkang is a rather depraved man. According to people
close to Zhou, he often slept at the hotel with the excuse of working late. But the truth is that he purposely
checked into the hotel in order to hire prostitutes. Moreover, it is said that on multiple occasions he has
forced himself upon female employees of the hotels. In addition, Zhou has been one of the government
officials most enthusiastic about persecuting the Falun Gong. Jiang appointed Zhou Minister of Public
Security Ministry.
It is difficult to track the total number of Jiang’s relatives who have advanced to high places or made huge
profits because of their relation to Jiang. When the higher-ups do not set a good example, the subordinates
cannot be expected to behave well. Jiang’s sexual escapades have caused the already corrupt Chinese
Communist regime to become irreversibly corrupt.
____________________
Notes:
[1] “Outrage: Paul Andreu designs the National Theatre of China in Beijing,” The Architectural Review, December 1999.
[2] Robert L. Kuhn, The Man Who Changed China: The Life and Legacy of Jiang Zemin (New York: Crown, 2004), 432.
The year 2002 was a gloomy one for Jiang Zemin, who from the start was haunted by the fear of losing
power and having his crimes exposed.
1. Television Tapping
For years Jiang’s persecution of Falun Gong has been sustained by means of spreading lies, hiding the
truth, and brutal torture. Jiang’s greatest fear has been that the public would break through the
information blockage that he labored to set up and discover the truth about the persecution.
Jiang’s fear finally came to pass in the city of Changchun—the capital of Jilin Province and the place
where Falun Gong’s founder Mr. Li Hongzhi was from. It was there that Falun Gong first began
spreading in the early nineties.
On the night of March 5, 2002, the regular programming of eight cable TV stations was interrupted and
replaced with a 45 minute broadcast about Falun Gong. The broadcast included documentaries such
as Self-immolation or Deception? and Falun Dafa’s Spread Around the World.
The lies the CCP propaganda machine had been telling for years were thus discredited in less than an
hour. The videos revealed Falun Gong’s rapid growth in mainland China before the crackdown along
with its current spreading in over 60 countries; it highlighted the truth about Falun Gong and its noble
teachings on truthfulness, compassion, and tolerance. Hundreds of thousands of people in Changchun
City were astonished as the documentary Self-immolation or Deception? analyzed the footage of the
incident from CCTV in slow motion, pointing out its inconsistencies one by one. The next day, the slowmotion sequence of Liu Chunling being struck over the head by a police officer while she was on fire
became the talk of the town; discussion of the matter could be heard at the office, on the bus, in school, or
at the supermarket, demonstrating the impact on people’s minds of a lie being exposed.
Even Kuhn’s book, The Man Who Changed China, acknowledged what had transpired. Kuhn writes,
“Prime time, everyone saw the Falun Gong programs, the city’s abuzz.” [1]
Jiang was furious when he heard the news about the TV tapping that night. He reportedly shook from
anger for several minutes. He then reacted by pounding his fist on the table and shouting, “Send for Zeng
Qinghong and Luo Gan immediately!”
Jiang’s secretary, though already accustomed to his boss’s temper, had never seen Jiang so mad and
violent. Fully aware of the seriousness of the matter, the secretary picked up the phone, his hand
trembling.
Following suggestions by Zeng and Luo, Jiang ordered that level II war preparedness be declared in the
Shenyang Military Region and that level I awareness be established in the Changchun Military Region
and among the armed police of Jilin Province. Luo ordered the Public Security Office of Jilin and the
Public Security Bureau of Changchun to investigate the TV tapping and crack the case within a short
timeframe. As Luo was on the phone, telling his men what to do, Jiang commanded, “Tell all the police to
shoot to kill any Falun Gong practitioners who were involved in the TV tapping. Kill them without
exception! I guarantee that any officer who kills Falun Gong practitioners will not be held responsible.
This case has to be resolved within a week, or else the Party chief in Changchun City and the police
chiefs at multiple levels in the city will have to step down.”
Acting on Jiang’s order, Luo took personal responsibility for the case. In the middle of the night on
March 12, 2002, Falun Gong practitioner Liu Haibo of Changchun was arrested and tortured to death
during questioning by Kuancheng police. He was suspected of having sheltered other Falun Gong
practitioners who had been involved in the broadcast. Chang Xiaoping, the first deputy Party chief and
head of the 6-10 Office in Changchun, arrived at the Kuancheng police station that same night and gave
the following instructions: first, dealing with Falun Gong was a difficult political task that had to be
accomplished even if it meant bloodshed; second, secrecy was to be maintained at all costs in order to
avoid harm to China’s international standing; and third, disciplinary, prosecutorial, and monitoring
departments at all levels were barred from probing Falun Gong’s casualties “for the sake of overall
stability.”
Meanwhile, Jiang directed his propaganda departments to produce TV programs that would accuse Falun
Gong of illegally tapping into TV stations. Those programs, however, did not tell the public the content of
the Falun Gong videos, but only said vaguely that the tapping was meant to publicize Falun Gong. The
programs also reiterated other lies, such as that Falun Gong killed people. In actuality, Falun Gong
practitioners had broadcast videos that unveiled the truth of the persecution by exposing how Falun
Gong’s followers were victims of murder at the hand of police, rather than perpetrators. Jiang deliberately
tried to conceal this reality by covering previous lies with yet more lies.
The CCP claimed that the Falun Gong broadcasts were illegal. “Illegal” is relative to “legal,” and
considering the extrajudicial nature of the persecution against Falun Gong, the “laws” that practitioners
supposedly broke had already been discredited. Some scholars have analogized as follows. Suppose a
person is barred from leaving a room through its windows only if a door is kept open. If the door is
locked or sealed, then people are of course entitled to get out through windows, if not by an opening in
the ceiling. In a place where basic human rights are denied, all peaceful attempts to regain those rights are
in accordance with the law—natural law.
The TV tapping, which did not cause any damage to TV facilities, only transmitted a message and
conveyed a voice. It was thus untenable to refute a move that involved the legitimate rights of tens of
millions of Falun Gong practitioners based on an allegation that “there were people who had been
bothered.” Even with demonstrations approved by the government, congestion in public spaces may
occur, “bothering” some people who are in a hurry. This is a price that may be paid to safeguard human
rights and is normal in today’s world. What’s more, TV programs denouncing Falun Gong have been
aired in recent years by TV stations under Jiang’s control, and many of these proved highly bothersome to
viewers.
Jiang, turning a deaf ear to reason, bitterly hated those who were involved in the tapping and wanted
nothing less than their total destruction. On March 24, 2002, police kidnapped Liu Chengjun, another
Falun Gong adherent who had been involved. The police shot Liu in the legs after he was already in cuffs
and shackles, injuring him severely. Liu was tortured ruthlessly in detention before being unlawfully
sentenced to 19 years in prison. He died of maltreatment at the hands of his captors in jail on Dec. 26,
2003.
Similar TV tapping incidents have since occurred in other cities, covering both cable and satellite signals.
According to incomplete statistics, from March 2002 to October 2003, Falun Gong practitioners tapped
into TV broadcasts in over 20 cities in the provinces of Heilongjiang, Shandong, Hebei, Gansu, and
Qinghai, as well as in Chongqing City. In those cases they similarly played videos that exposed Jiang’s
claims.
As soon as the nationwide crackdown on Falun Gong began in July 1999, Jiang activated China’s entire
propaganda apparatus to decry Falun Gong, denying its practitioners any opportunity to clear up and
defend against the allegations launched against them. By staging the farce of the Tiananmen immolation
and silencing the voice of Falun Gong with his power, Jiang managed to bring the public’s hatred toward
Falun Gong to the boiling point. If a person who was against Falun Gong was asked where his hatred
came from, he would probably say “from what I saw on CCTV.” With 86 percent of China’s population
having access to TV coverage, televised propaganda became Jiang’s most effective tool in his attempt to
discredit Falun Gong. It was thus much to Jiang’s great surprise when his own claims were discredited
through the very same medium.
2. Mired in Trouble
The TV broadcasts were not the last time in 2002 that Jiang faced consequences for his decision to
persecute Falun Gong.
In April 2002, Falun Gong practitioners took legal action in Washington D.C. against China’s Ministry of
Public Security, Ministry of State Security, and CCTV. In July, legislators from the U.S. House of
Representatives adopted Resolution 188 by a vote of 420 to 0, urging Jiang to stop persecuting the Falun
Gong in China. [2]
On the other side of the Atlantic, Jiang also met with protests over his campaign against Falun Gong
during a visit to Germany in April and to Iceland in June. While in Germany, Jiang became so afraid of
the sight of yellow and blue clothing—trademark colors of demonstrating Falun Gong practitioners—that
he made a request to the German police that the two colors be kept out of his sight. He was so suspicious
and fearful that he asked police to weld sewer lids shut along the route his convoy was to travel. Jiang
didn’t dare to enter or leave his hotel through the front entrance; instead, he used garbage exits. He
frequently changed his schedule and routes, causing frustration and drawing complaints from his hosts.
Before he arrived in Iceland, Jiang exerted pressure on the Icelandic government to bar Falun Gong
adherents from entering the country. The move, which officials agreed to, triggered dramatic protests
against Jiang by thousands of local residents. On the day of Jiang’s arrival, Iceland’s largest newspaper
ran a four-page ad, offering an apology to Falun Gong practitioners. The advertisement, which was jointly
sponsored by 450 people, including parliamentarians, made quite a stir in Iceland. Its title consisted of
three large Chinese characters which mean “sorry,” and had a subtitle in Icelandic that read “An Apology
to Falun Gong Practitioners.” The statement read, “The Icelandic government made an erroneous decision
by yielding to the dictator Jiang Zemin and barring Falun Gong practitioners from entering the island for
peaceful protests. The Icelandic people feel ashamed of that decision and express their apology to all
Falun Gong practitioners.” [3]
An unusual coincidence having to do with toads took place in both Germany and Iceland. Two days prior
to Jiang’s arrival in Germany in April, several identical large posters appeared suddenly at different
railroad stations. On the posters, the upper caption read “Look up,” while two toads, standing on either
side of the picture with their bodies turned toward each other were looking up at a large, crowned toad
with a white belly. The caption at the bottom read, “Here comes the big one.” Similarly, two days before
Jiang arrived in Iceland, the country’s largest newspaper published a photo of a large toad for no apparent
reason. It was no ordinary toad, but rather a toad with favus (an infectious skin disease) all over its body.
When Jiang visited the United States at the end of October, a restaurant near the Chinese consulate used a
big toad as a symbol on one of its posters. Back in China, a strange thing occurred on the Xinhua.com
website as well. As soon as one opened the main webpage, a hopping green toad immediately would
appear and remain on the screen for some time before vanishing.
Another phenomenon that followed Jiang as he traveled, be it to Germany, Iceland, or the United States,
was a cold wind and dark clouds. During his stay in Iceland, Jiang visited a world famous fountain near
the capital city of Reykjavik. The moment Jiang arrived, half of the water column springing from the
fountain became black with filth and dirt. The sky corresponding to the filthy half turned dark and was
covered with dark clouds; the other half of the sky remained bright. One local resident exclaimed, “I’ve
never seen such black water coming out of that fountain.”
Jiang’s visit appears to have also brought misfortune to some of those involved in the welcoming events.
A Professor Li of the Beijing Second Foreign Language Institute in China and his wife moved to the
capital of Iceland after they retired, joining their son and his family there. A few years after he settled in
Iceland, Li became a leader among local overseas Chinese. When Jiang visited the country, officials from
the Chinese embassy tried to please the visiting leader by hiring local Chinese students and immigrants as
a greeting crowd. Jiang later met with representatives of the crowd, which was headed by Li. The event
was aired on CCTV on its news program. A day or two after Jiang and his delegation left Iceland, Li and
his family went on an outing by car. There were five people in the car: Li and his wife, his son (who was
driving), his son’s wife, and his one-year-old grandson. As they were driving, the car suddenly skidded
off the road into a lake. Everyone in the care died in the accident, with the exception of Li’s son, who
escaped ashore by breaking a window.
3. The Story Behind the Barbecue in Crawford
One of the reasons for Jiang’s nervousness in 2002 was that well in advance of the Party’s 16th congress,
different factions within the CCP raised the idea that at the conference Jiang should hand his power over
to Hu Jintao as per Deng Xiaoping’s arrangement. Jiang, who was not yet prepared to step down, made
frequent visits abroad in order to create the impression among foreign governments and China’s top
leadership that he was “indispensable” in China’s foreign relations.
Despite his frail health—in fact, he was rushed to the emergency room at China’s army hospital number
301 multiple times—Jiang insisted on traveling the world so as to entrench his power. He made more
trips overseas in 2002 than in any other year, with his visit to the United States in late October being the
highlight.
Jiang’s purpose of visiting the United States was to attend a barbecue at President George W. Bush’s
ranch in Crawford, Texas. Few world leaders have been invited to Bush’s ranch, and those who are
consider it a great honor and are the envy of others. Acting through China’s foreign ministry, Jiang had
made a request that Bush send him an invitation, but Bush didn’t like Jiang at all. Although China’s
foreign ministry expressed Jiang’s wish in several different ways, Bush pretended not to understand and
didn’t respond to the request as expected. Bush finally agreed only after he could no longer avoid issuing
the invitation. Immediately, the Chinese government told the public in China that Jiang was “highly
respected” by Bush and the two were “old friends.” China meanwhile signed $4.7 billion worth of deals
in New York with 13 large transnational American corporations—the price of securing Jiang’s barbecue
at the ranch.
Chinese media reported that Bush treated Jiang “with the highest respect” since he had personally invited
the Chinese leader to his Crawford ranch. He Yafei, Director of the Division of American and Atlantic
Affairs of China’s Foreign Ministry, said at a news conference that China and the United States would
issue a joint statement. The White House responded immediately, however, that the summit between
Bush and Jiang would not yield any joint statement. The New York Times quickly reported that the
remarks from Beijing were overstated.
And the fact was, when compared to other guests of honor that Bush entertained at his Crawford ranch,
Jiang’s reception was not so warm. Russian President Vladimir Putin and British Prime Minister Tony
Blair stayed overnight, and even Prince Abdallah of Saudi Arabia was accompanied by Bush for five
hours, at least two hours of which were official talks. Bush’s meeting with Jiang was much briefer, by
contrast, with Jiang being sent off rather swiftly.
Jiang’s trip to the United States, though highlighted by the Chinese media from an angle that flattered
Jiang, did not change the outcome of the CCP’s discussion in its Politburo since the top leadership was
able to read reports and comments from overseas sources. In addition, Jiang was sued by Falun Gong
practitioners during the visit, an event which deserves elaboration.
4. A Giant Trailer Declares, “Traitor”
Even though the word about Jiang’s visit to the U.S. leaked out in the summer of 2002, the trip’s specific
itinerary was deliberately kept from the public. Zhang Qiyue, the spokesperson for China’s Foreign
Ministry who announced on Oct. 10 at a routine press conference that Jiang would pay a visit to the
United States from Oct. 20 to 25, didn’t disclose the arrangement on other occasions when asked by
reporters. It was not until Oct. 17 that the Foreign Ministry made Jiang’s daily schedule in the United
States public. It was as if the Ministry wished to take protesters by surprise.
A few months earlier, Falun Gong practitioners around the world had been talking about how to lodge
protests against Jiang’s suppression of Falun Gong during his visit. Information from different sources
indicated that Jiang would visit a major American city before going to Texas. The Chinese embassy and
consulates released conflicting information, such as that “Jiang would go to Boston first,” “Jiang will
come to New York,” “Jiang will visit San Francisco and Los Angeles,” or that “Jiang will go to
Washington, D.C.” An assessment of different rumors pointed to the fact that among the major cities with
a Chinese consulate, Chicago was the only one that had not been mentioned. Since Jiang would not be
able to visit so many places at the same time, it was concluded that the cities mentioned must have been a
smokescreen. Falun Gong adherents boldly predicted: Jiang would go to Chicago.
From that point on Falun Gong adherents and their attorneys were busy with preparations to “welcome”
Jiang.
At 10:38 a.m., Oct. 22, 2002, Jiang’s special plane, landed amidst dark fog at Chicago’s O’Hare
International Airport. Jiang didn’t exchange greetings with the cheering crowds organized by the Chinese
consulate upon landing, and instead quickly got into his limousine and left the airport. During Jiang’s
entire visit, the city of Houston experienced unusually low temperatures for the season and was shrouded
in downpours and dark clouds. The minute Jiang’s motorcade left O’Hare, it passed by two fires with
columns of black smoke shooting into the sky—a bad omen for Jiang’s trip to Chicago.
As Jiang’s motorcade was traveling on highway I-90 into downtown, Falun Gong practitioners were
protesting at subway platforms en route by either holding banners, performing exercises, or calling out
“Falun Dafa is good.” At 11:23 a.m., the motorcade arrived at the Ritz Carlton Hotel where Jiang was to
stay. The hotel’s front entrance was engulfed by a sea of yellow clothing and waves of colorful banners
that read, “Stop persecuting Falun Gong.”
To avoid a face-off with the thousands of protesters at the front gate, Jiang’s limousine drove into the
hotel through the cargo and garbage entrance on the side. The cheering crowd of approximately 400 or
500 college students that was organized by the Chinese consulate showed sings of frustration; they had
come from afar to welcome Jiang only to not see him. Many were from Chicago, but not all, with some
hailing from as far as Louisiana. After learning that Jiang had decided to enter the hotel through a side
gate and not meet the students, one of the group, who was wielding a five-star red flag, said with a
doubtful look on his face, “Is it true?”
The story behind the cheering crowds is telling. The Chinese Consulate had approached the Chinese
student associations at some schools in advance of Jiang’s visit and asked the associations to pick
politically “reliable” students to join the carefully engineered crowd and “cheer for Jiang.” According to
one Chinese student who was approached, the compensation the Chinese Consulate offered was $35 per
person for participating the first day and $55 if he or she also saw Jiang off on the second day. The
cheering crowd was equipped with high-pitched loudspeakers that repeatedly played CCP songs. These
were later silenced by police after neighborhood residents complained about all the noise they were
making.
As the students were standing outside the Ritz Carlton, a trailer drove by with large photos of Jiang
Zemin embracing former Russian President Boris Yeltsin on its sides. In the photos, a smiling Jiang was
hugging Yeltsin tightly with both arms around the latter’s neck. Beneath the photos, large words read:
“The Scum of the Chinese Nation Who Will Stand Condemned for Ages to Come.” An accompanying
diagram told how Jiang had secretly given away large tracts of northeastern Chinese territory to Russia.
The students in the greeting crowd immediately turned quiet and peered at the image carefully. They must
have been wondering to themselves: “This is the guy we’re welcoming here?” At that moment, a few of
the people who hired the welcoming squad went up to the trailer’s driver and told him, “Hurry up! Get
out of here quickly!” It looked like some of those in charge of the squad wanted the rest of the crowd to
join them in jeering the trailer, but nobody did.
After seeing the trailer, many of the students were no longer able to wave the little red flags. Some took
photos of the trailer with their own cameras; others protested that the agreement with Russia was an
inequitable treaty that all the previous leaders of China and the Chinese people had never accepted. Later,
several students wrote on electronic bulletin boards that their hearts were grieved after learning about
Jiang’s treacherous acts. Though the students later received $35 in compensation from the Chinese
Consulate, some said they would never welcome Jiang again.
Jiang had planned to visit a hi-tech telecommunications company headquartered in a suburb of Chicago in
the afternoon, but canceled his trip for fear of mass demonstrations against him. Later in the evening,
Jiang made a brief speech at a dinner in honor of businessmen in Chicago. Appearing weak, Jiang
stumbled when climbing a flight of stairs. After his speech, Jiang had to be helped from the podium by
Deputy Consul General Shen Weilian. Mayor Daley of Chicago, who knew that Jiang was a murderer of
his own people, didn’t attend the dinner or meet with Jiang, citing health reasons.
The crowds of greeters and protesters left as evening approached, with the exception of the Falun Gong.
The Falun Gong intended to keep an all-night vigil in front of the hotel. Reassured by the group’s
peaceful manners and cooperation, police left only one car at the hotel entrance. Falun Gong practitioners
sat along the sidewalks and lawns in front of the Ritz Carlton hotel all through the night.
On the morning of Oct. 23, Jiang again tried to leave the hotel through a side entrance in order to avoid
facing the protesters. Nevertheless, as his limousine pulled out of the gate, he saw in front of him a sea of
Falun Gong banners and heard cries of “Falun Dafa is good” from a short distance. At times, Falun Gong
practitioners were only three meters away from Jiang’s limousine, and yet the police were not worried
about his safety; they had seen the peaceful nature of the group’s earlier demonstrations. As Jiang’s car
drove along the highways, Jiang could see Falun Gong banners every few minutes.
As they had done in Germany and Iceland, Jiang’s staff exerted pressure on the host government—the
United States in this case—well before the trip, demanding that protesters (especially the Falun Gong), be
kept out of Jiang’s sight during his trip. The American government, however, replied in a straightforward
manner: “Welcome to America.” Meaning, “In America you do as the Americans do.” The Chicago
police department said, “According to the U.S. Constitution, all protesters should be allowed to hold their
events in a place where they can be seen and heard. Your rights [as Falun Gong practitioners] will
definitely be ensured.”
5. The Summons
Jiang never thought he would be sued by Falun Gong practitioners in Chicago. To his surprise and
chagrin, however, the largest legal campaign against a human rights abuser since the end of World War II
began that week. He was its target.
Charging Jiang and the 6-10 office with torture, genocide and crimes against humanity, the lawsuit filed
by Falun Gong adherents was a civil case, so a summons had to be delivered to the defendant in
person. [4] This proved difficult, however, for Jiang kept his itinerary in Chicago a heavily-guarded
secret. Even when his route became known, security was extremely tight.
On Oct. 21, 2002, a court in Illinois issued an order saying that it was acceptable to give the summons to
Jiang’s Chinese or American security personnel during his stay in Chicago if it was too risky or
impossible to make the delivery to Jiang himself. Even with such an exception, it was still hard to serve
the papers since security guards would not allow anyone to get close to them, and would certainly not
take anything from them—especially a sensitive item like a summons.
Seven summons deliverers and the chief attorney in the case against Jiang met for nearly an hour at a
private detective company the following day, Oct. 22. Among the seven, three were experienced process
servers and private detectives and the other four were young male Falun Gong practitioners (three of
whom were Caucasian and one Chinese).
At around 4 p.m., Cory Fertel, one of the process servers, went to the 18th Precinct of the Chicago police
department, hoping to hand the summons to the chief of police. The chief’s assistant, in his boss’s
absence, took the document instead. Jason Bobor, another process server, found the chief of the 18th
Precinct himself, named Griffin, who was on duty outside the hotel. He promptly handed him the
summons after overcoming obstructions from Chinese security guards and pressure from American police
officers. According to law, Griffin was one of those security personnel who could take the summons on
behalf of Jiang Zemin or the 6-10 Office. Griffin did take the document and said he understood his
obligations. Security measures stood in the way of serving Jiang directly, but the delivery of the summons
through a member of his security personnel was considered valid. The litigation thus officially started.
When he heard that Falun Gong practitioners had sued him and delivered the summons, Jiang slumped in
his sofa, his face pale and his body trembling. After he recovered from the initial shock, Jiang called
Consul General Wei Ruixing over and harshly reprimanded him.
Wei, a veteran diplomat from Beijing, had a sketchy past. He had gone back to China for a three month
“rest” after word circulated in the Chinese community in Chicago that he was a womanizer. Harboring
dubious intentions, he had for some time wanted to please Jiang by discrediting Falun Gong and use the
move to climb still higher in the government. When Jiang launched the campaign against Falun Gong a
few years earlier, Wei had gone to the capital of Illinois, Springfield, and verbally attacked Falun Gong.
He later organized several Cultural Revolution type “study sessions” at the consulate to “criticize” the
Falun Gong.
On Nov. 4, not long after Jiang returned to China from his bad experience in Chicago, Wei was removed
from the post of Consul General. He was sent back home, thus ending his political career and suggesting
the perils that attend those who follow Jiang too closely.
After Jiang returned to Beijing, the team of attorneys handling the case sent the indictment through
registered mail to Jiang’s office multiple times in order to ensure that he received it.
On Dec. 13, 2002, an additional package was sent through Federal Express to Jiang’s office at the
Zhongnanhai government compound in Beijing. The package included: a notice issued by the court clerk
containing the trial schedule in both English and Chinese; an attached letter, also in both English and
Chinese that explained the notice; copies of the indictment and summons; and copies of the court order
that authorized the plaintiffs to use alternative means to deliver the legal documents to the defendant. The
Foreign Ministry first received the special express package, and turned it over to Jiang’s office at
Zhongnanhai; it could neither say that “No addressee was found” nor accept the package. A “T. Huang”
at the office apparently signed the receipt invoice without giving a second thought to the ramifications of
what he was doing. To this day, Huang’s move is still a running joke among the CCP power elite.
Now having been accused by the Falun Gong of orchestrating mass torture and genocide, Jiang instructed
the chief of the CCP’s central office, Jia Ting’an, to hold immediate talks with the U.S. government and
demand that the case be shelved on grounds of “head of state immunity.” Meanwhile, Jiang called in Luo
Gan and Xu Yongyue, the Minister of State Security, and commanded them, “Find out who the plaintiffs
are in China and abroad. Arrest them all!”
Luo acted at once and ordered immediate police investigations. The move led to the arrest and arbitrary
detention of many Falun Gong adherents.
6. The Trip to Texas
Jiang considered returning to China ahead of schedule after he was sued in Chicago. In the end he decided
to continue his trip as scheduled and avoid the embarrassment of cutting his U.S. visit short. He was also
reluctant to forego a visit to President Bush’s ranch in Crawford, Texas—a privilege he had fought hard
for. Jiang thus traveled to Texas despite news that the Falun Gong would hold demonstrations there.
As for protests by the Falun Gong, Jiang had come to loathe them. He was not new to them by any means.
During an August 2001 trip to Malta, a Mediterranean island nation, Jiang met face-to-face with a Ms.
Wang, a senior reporter with an overseas media organization who happened to also be a practitioner of
Falun Gong. Jiang didn’t realize her affiliation at first.
Jiang’s impulse to show-off surged upon hearing that an Asian woman would interview him. Nodding in
agreement at the request, he craned his neck, ready for the interview. Contrary to the flattery he expected
to be heaped upon him by the reporter, what did Jiang first hear from Wang but a loud and clear, “You
must stop persecuting Falun Gong practitioners.” Jiang was stunned. His face turned pale. Without saying
a word, Jiang turned and left. After that encounter Jiang was nervous and wary every time he traveled
overseas.
During Jiang’s visit to Germany in April 2002, the number of people demonstrating against the
persecution of Falun Gong ranged from a few hundred to 1,000. Jiang was terribly scared upon seeing
Falun Gong’s banners and hearing the shouts, “Falun Dafa is good!” During his stay in Germany an
ambulance followed him wherever he went; officials anticipated that Jiang might pass out at any moment.
When Jiang visited Volkswagen, the automaker gave Jiang an ambulance as a gift.
During his visit to the United States six months later, Jiang was even more frightened, as this time the
Falun Gong demonstrators numbered several thousand.
In one attempt to guard against having to face the demonstrators, Jiang used $200,000 of state money to
reserve almost all 485 rooms at the Inter Continental Hotel in Houston for the period of Oct. 22–25.
The last day of Jiang’s trip was the one he had been longing for—the date of his visit to President Bush’s
ranch. Despite the importance of the occasion, the high-profile meeting between Bush and Jiang was
delayed for over 30 minutes. Jiang apparently met with medical complications and his motorcade had to
make a stop at the Chinese Consulate in Houston. Jiang’s entourage gave no explanation for the delay.
Well-known for being punctual, Bush appeared annoyed by Jiang’s tardy arrival. One local newspaper,
the Houston Chronicle, revealed the next day that Bush glanced at his watch anxiously as he waited in the
chilly wind. Pointing to a nearby pond, he reportedly said, “We could be fishing.”
When Jiang and his wife Wang Yeping finally arrived, the President and his wife Laura, the cultured host
and hostess, stepped forward to greet them.
President and Mrs. Bush shook hands with Jiang and asked “How are you?” as the latter emerged from
the car. Wang Yeping slowly got out from the car after Jiang. Bush embraced her in American fashion
after shaking hands. Mrs. Bush said to her gently, “Welcome to our home!” After taking group photos,
Jiang walked off ahead and entered the front gate by himself. He left Wang behind with the President and
Mrs. Bush, who, seeing the frail Wang hobbling along, came to her side and steadied her as the three
walked slowly towards the house. The scene caused quite some laughter when word got out.
Before coming to the U.S., Jiang had asked the Chinese consulate to hire students to welcome his arrival,
but during the trip itself he didn’t take these students seriously. Groups of Chinese students holding little
red flags gathered at 4 a.m. Going without food, they rehearsed again and again the welcoming slogans
they were told to use and the way to wave the flags. At each point along Jiang’s itinerary, they would
come and wait for seven or eight hours. But every time without exception, when Jiang arrived he would
vanish through a side entrance and not meet the students who had come to welcome him. Whether it was
at the airport or a hotel, whether in Chicago, Houston, or Waco, Jiang was nowhere to be seen.
The real purpose of hiring the students was apparently to offset the impact that thousands of Falun Gong
adherents created. Throughout his journey Jiang was literally fleeing from one place to the next, fearful of
an encounter with the Falun Gong. Nonetheless, Falun Gong crowds and banners always seemed to find
him.
7. Looking to Retreat
In 2002, the crackdown on Falun Gong in China met with resilience and resistance. Falun Gong students
took further steps to expose the staged immolation, tapping into China’s TV stations from home and
abroad, broadcasting documentary videos to the Chinese people directly. Jiang was under pressure to step
down as voices opposing the suppression increased among the public and within official circles. All the
while protests from Falun Gong adherents surged ahead and grew more widespread.
After being sued in Chicago, Jiang became aware of his failure to silence support for Falun Gong
internationally and began to consider compromising.
History was on Jiang’s mind. Investigations following the Cultural Revolution resulted in the Gang of
Four being removed from power. Military officials who had been involved in persecuting high-ranking
CCP cadres and their children were purged quietly or taken to Yunnan Province for execution. The
families of the victims were later notified that their loved one had “died in line of duty.” Aware of the
upcoming campaign, Liu Chuanxin, the chief of Beijing’s Public Security Bureau at the time, committed
suicide even before the probe began.
Jiang considered following a similar strategy regarding the persecution of Falun Gong. He instructed his
followers in the U.S. to run the following proposal by Falun Gong adherents: the authorities would
execute some rogue police officers who had tortured Falun Gong practitioners to death in exchange for
Falun Gong’s withdrawal of the lawsuit.
As with the redress following the Cultural Revolution, the intent was to hold low-ranking military
officials accountable for their crimes while absolving the person bearing the chief responsibility—the
head of the CCP. Jiang’s proposal suggested even more drastic measures than those adopted following the
Cultural Revolution, for it promised that the number of police officers executed would correspond to the
number of Falun Gong practitioners who had been killed. [5]
Such terms of exchange, however, were neither fair nor reasonable. Over the years, Jiang had mobilized
as much as one quarter—and at times even one third—of China’s financial resources to suppress Falun
Gong. He even tried to achieve his purpose of eradicating the practice by changing laws so that he could
label Falun Gong an “evil cult,” something ordinary policemen couldn’t do. Thus the real culprit behind
the suppression was Jiang himself, not the police. Jiang was seeking to shift all responsibility to the police
and thereby clear himself of accountability—something morally and legally untenable. Jiang moreover
had no intention of stopping or easing his suppression of the Falun Gong. He wished merely to use the
targeted police as scapegoats so as to avoid being sued.
8. A “Military Coup” at the 16th Party Congress
Jiang postponed the CCP’s 16th Congress from September to November in order to make time for his
visit to the United States.
In the first half of 2002, Jiang began to worry about whether he should step down during the Party
Congress. He had not thought of the high price he would pay later when he forced Qiao Shi to retire.
As he prepared to retire, Jiang was worried about Li Ruihuan, the chairman of China’s Political
Consultative Committee and the man many officials had hoped would stay on at his post. Jiang felt
uneasy about Li because Li, a popular pubic figure, did not unquestionably follow Jiang’s footsteps and
had never made any public statements against Falun Gong. Jiang was especially frustrated because he
could not get rid of Li the same way he had Qiao Shi; Li had not yet reached retirement age. If Li stayed
on as a member of the Standing Committee of the Politburo after the Party’s 16th Congress, he would
pose a threat to Jiang’s power in retirement. He would be an obstacle to Jiang’s pulling strings from
behind the scenes through officials in the politburo—officials Jiang posted there and who remained loyal
to him. Jiang thus wished to unseat Li at all costs. Li, on the other hand, didn’t care as much for power.
He even offered to retire along with Jiang.
On Nov. 8, 2002, the CCP’s 16th Congress opened, and Jiang was not on the preliminary list of members
of the Party’s Central Committee. This meant that Jiang would not be on the new Central Committee and
would not assume any leadership positions in the Party or elsewhere in the government.
Following five rounds of heated debate, the Standing Committee of the Politburo and the Politburo
plenary voted to adopt a resolution on Jiang’s full retirement. Li Ruihuan kept his promise by agreeing to
step down along with Jiang.
Party elders and Politburo members, relieved to see Jiang finally stepping down, were generous in their
flattery of Jiang as they adopted the resolution. Jiang seized the opportunity to propose that his close
followers be appointed to the Politburo, to which, surprisingly, there was no objection. The Party
members were perhaps unaware of the consequences of such appointments: Jiang would become the real
boss of the Politburo, since his men composed a majority in the body and its Standing Committee
following the 16th Congress. Such an outcome was worse than that of the 15th Party Congress during
which several of Jiang’s proposals were voted down owing to Li Ruihuan, Wei Jianxing, and others
offsetting things in the voting.
Jiang should have been content. The members of the Standing Committee at the 16th Party Congress were
in line with his principle of the “three majorities.” First, the majority of the officials were ones he had
recommended; out of gratitude to Jiang, and to avoid what had happened to the Gang of Four, they would
not act against his wishes; second, the majority of the officials were corrupt, so for their own safety they
would not be sincere in fighting corruption, thereby minimizing Jiang’s risk of being investigated for the
bribery he did using state money; and third, the majority of the officials had been harsh in suppressing
Falun Gong, so the practice would never have its name cleared, lest these officials themselves face
justice.
As the conference progressed, it appeared—to the joy of many in the Party and the public more broadly—
that Jiang would step down fully. Jiang was still worried, however, for he needed the immunity granted to
a head of state in order to deflect the lawsuit by Falun Gong practitioners in the U.S., who had charged
him with genocide. It was not possible for him to remain China’s state president, and, as a former “head
of state,” he would no longer enjoy the immunity once conferred. The only thing he could do was to hold
on tightly to the “barrel of the gun” (as Mao once called it) by refusing to relinquish the post of Chairman
of the Central Military Commission (CMC). As such, he could control his successor Hu Jintao and
interfere with judicial procedures. He could evade justice this way.
Once again, Zeng Qinghong stepped forward to help Jiang. He spoke with Zhang Wannian, Vice
Chairman of the CMC, who was also scheduled to retire at the 16th Party Congress. The two arranged the
renewal of Jiang’s mandate as China’s top military leader. Zeng promised Zhang the post of Minister of
Defense if their plan were to succeed. Thus, on Nov. 13, at the fourth meeting of the Standing Committee
of the Presidium of the 16th Party Congress, Zhang Wannian stood up abruptly and took a hardline stand,
putting forward a “special motion” that was co-signed by 20 bureau members (all of whom were
soldiers). The motion proposed that Jiang continue to serve as Chairman of the CMC in its new term.
Five reasons for keeping Jiang on in this capacity were listed by Zhang in the special motion. First, it was
supposedly conducive to strengthening the work of the Party, government, and military after the
changeover. Second, it was conducive to the leadership transition in the military. Third, it was conducive
to dealing with unexpected changes or events in Sino-American relations that might arise as a result of
U.S. domestic policy and foreign strategy—something important given present complexities in
international affairs. Fourth, it was conducive to responding to changes in the political situation in
Taiwan. And fifth, it was supposedly conducive to helping and assisting the new politburo in its work.
After Zhang spoke, Li Lanqing, whose son had been cleared of a 1 billion yuan lawsuit by Jiang, and Liu
Huaqing, whose daughter Jiang had held hostage, seconded the “special motion” immediately. It was only
then that other participants at the meeting realized a ploy, prepared behind their backs, was being hatched
and that they stood to be affected. Some were so scared and unsettled that their faces turned visibly pale
as the meeting progressed.
Zhang Wannian then turned to Hu Jintao and coerced Hu into taking a stand.
The room was quiet enough to hear a pin drop. Everyone knew that if Hu didn’t agree, he would be taken
away by the military and put under house arrest. Hu said in a low voice, “I fully agree with the proposal
put forward by the 20 comrades, of whom Zhang Wannian, Guo Boxiong, and Cao Gangchuan are
included.” Hu attempted to force a smile, but witnesses tell that the expression on his face was so empty
he might as well have been crying. Zhang cast a fawning glance at Jiang Zemin, who nodded contentedly.
One could tell Jiang was trying to hide a grin that was beginning to tug at the corner of his mouth.
The “special motion” was adopted with three abstentions—from Li Ruihuan, Wei Jianxing, and Cao
Qingze.
Wei immediately made his stance clear: he accepted the “special motion” that had just been adopted,
based on organizational principles, but was against it as a person. He argued that it was unusual and
disrespectful to overrule a resolution (that had already been adopted after five rounds of discussion in the
Politburo Standing Committee and plenary meeting) with a so-called “special motion” from the Standing
Committee of the Presidium of the Party Congress. He concluded with the remark that those who initiated
the proposal would be judged by history.
The turn of events was a planned, premeditated, and bloodless coup d’etat, staged by the military—
notably Zhang Wannian and several other generals—at Jiang Zemin’s instigation. Jiang, with a proven
record of shady dealings, had become accustomed to defying Politburo resolutions and using base means
to force relevant parties to submit to his wishes. After he had his way, Jiang quickly forgot his promise to
Zhang that he would be appointed to Minister of Defense. Instead, Zhang was asked to retire from the
military. To this day, those like Zhang who have been used by Jiang flush with anger at the mere mention
of Jiang’s name.
Wan Li, who had not participated in the Congress for health reasons, exploded with rage upon hearing
what happened at the meeting. He accused Jiang of duplicity and protested the move by quitting the
Standing Committee of the Presidium of the Party Congress.
____________________
Notes:
[1] Robert Lawrence Kuhn, The Man Who Changed China: The Life and Legacy of Jiang Zemin (New York: Crown, 2004), 490.
[2] House Concurrent Resolution 188, “Expressing the sense of Congress that the Government of the People’s Republic of China
should cease its persecution of Falun Gong practitioners,” July 25, 2002.
[3] A photo of the ad is available at: http://www.clearharmony.net/a_images/2005/06/2005-06-12-2005-6-11-sin-rj-05.jpg.
[4] The suit charged Jiang and the “6-10 office” with these crimes under the Alien Tort Claims Act and the Torture Victims
Protection Act, and in accordance with the definitions outlined in the United Nations Convention on the Prevention and Punishment
of the Crime of Genocide. A copy of the complaint and other legal documents are available at http://www.upholdjustice.org/.
[5] By that time the number of Falun Gong adherents killed was already in the hundreds. The number of police executed would thus
have been sizable.
1. SARS
In 2003 the terrifying SARS epidemic swept the world.
SARS spread to nearly 30 countries and infected more than 8,000 people. More than 800 died as a result.
The economic loss was estimated at US$30 billion. China had the largest number of infections. The
number of infections in Hong Kong and mainland China comprised 80 percent of all infections
worldwide. But the international community has suspected that the CCP greatly distorted the numbers.
The actual number of infections was likely much higher.
Covering Up the Epidemic to Remain in Office
SARS first broke out in southern China in November 2002.
It happened during the CCP’s 16th Congress, and Jiang Zemin was concerned about keeping his position
as Chairman of the Central Military Commission (CMC). The Chinese media were required to create a
“good political atmosphere” and repeat Jiang’s slogan of “stability above all else.” The CCP’s internal
memo circulated by the Propaganda Ministry explicitly said that SARS (Severe Acute Respiratory
Syndrome), also called “atypical pneumonia,” was one of the things not to be reported on publicly.
All other Chinese-speaking communities in the world called the illness “Severe Acute Respiratory
Syndrome” or SARS. Only the Chinese Communist Party termed it “atypical pneumonia,” presumably to
reduce the level of panic among the public. But actual action should have been taken to truly lessen panic.
Changing the name served only to lower people’s guard. When the public doesn’t have factual
information, they are more likely to believe rumors and feel panicked. The bottom line is, this deceptive
strategy—renaming the illness—was a product of Jiang Zemin’s policy of “stability above all else.”
When the first case of SARS was discovered in China, the propaganda branch headed by Li Changchun,
who was a member of Jiang’s faction, a Politburo Standing Committee member, and then-Party Secretary
of Guangdong Province, tried his best to cover it up. Then the epidemic gradually spread to other
provinces. When Li Changchun left Guangdong, dissenting opinions began to emerge among officials in
Guangdong Province. When some local newspapers reported on SARS, Jiang Zemin quickly appointed
then-Party Secretary for Zhejiang Province Zhang Dejiang as Party Secretary for Guangdong Province.
Zhang became the immediate supervisor of Guangdong Province Propaganda Department Director Zhong
Yangsheng and repeatedly prohibited the media from reporting on SARS. In late February and early
March, Guangdong Province Propaganda Department went so far as to oversee the reorganization of the
major newspapers. After the reorganization, the Guangdong media fell into the hands of members of the
Jiang faction in the Propaganda Ministry. Suddenly, all reporting on SARS stopped.
Concealing the development of SARS was like an ostrich burying its head in the sand. Although a lid
could be put on the news, that was not so with the virus itself. SARS spread quickly in Guangdong. Since
the time when SARS broke out globally in February 2003, almost every day, media around the world
reported new infections and deaths. Yet in China, the source of SARS, the official government media
were silent.
In early March 2003, when the National People’s Congress and the Political Consultative Conference
were meeting in Beijing, a shocking news story broke out. A medical doctor from Guangdong was so ill
that he was taken to Hong Kong for treatment. He died shortly after arriving in Hong Kong. Hong Kong
media suddenly realized that SARS was very close to them, but it was already too late. Since then, SARS
began spreading in Hong Kong. Immediately the entire world panicked. Hong Kong is important for the
global economy. It is also an important transportation center for people and goods. Every day, countless
flights arrive at and leave from Hong Kong; countless people come and go. It was impossible to track and
investigate everyone. Once someone was infected they could be tracked, but there was no way to find out
about those whose cases of the illness were still latent. The World Health Organization requested that the
CCP immediately report on the SARS infections and spread of it in China.
On March 26, Zhang Wenkang, who was Jiang Zemin’s private doctor, a member of the Jiang faction,
and China’s Minister of Health, publicly acknowledged the spread of the illness for the first time under
pressure from the WHO. However, he said that only 792 were infected in Guangdong, and that 31 died,
while failing to mention the situation with the epidemic in other provinces. Hu Jintao attempted to require
that local government officials report on the spread of the disease every day without delay, omission, or
fraud. Zhang openly argued with Hu and said that China had no law requiring that the status of such
illnesses be reported every day. Many observers believed that the intentional cover-up directly resulted in
the disease spreading out of control. From Guangdong Province in southern China, SARS was spread to
over 20 cities and provinces, including the capital Beijing and the central government compound of
Zhongnanhai. As people entered and left China, SARS quickly spread to many other countries and
regions.
New Tang Dynasty Television, an independent Chinese-language television station based in North
America, began issuing warnings and following the story as early as February 2003. Because of the
censorship of news in Mainland China, the public had no way of knowing about this important news that
could threaten their very existence.
Instead, on April 2 of that year, China’s state-controlled media published an article, titled “The Situation
of Atypical Pneumonia Is Under Effective Control.” The next day, Minister of Health Zhang Wenkang
told Chinese and foreign reporters at a press conference, “I can say with good conscience that it is safe to
work, live, and travel in China.”
But by then, China was in fact in widespread panic. Food and medicine that was believed to cure or
prevent SARS, such as Chinese herbal formula Banlangen, Meng beans, white vinegar, and salt, were
being bought up quickly in large cities. The prices of many Chinese herbal formulas skyrocketed. Many
people started to wear face masks on the streets. Someone wrote a satire mimicking a poem by Mao
Zedong: “Through the winds and showers, spring has arrived. SARS heralded the spring. Though the
spring scenery is splendid, we have to wear thick face masks. Even face masks don’t bring us assurance,
so we consume huge quantities of Chinese herbal formulas. When the Chinese herbs are out of stock,
cunning merchants smile [as they can then make a profit].”
Amidst the crisis, the public’s reactions demonstrated the degree to which they trusted the government’s
propaganda. Although the Jiang faction swore that SARS was under control, a large number of migrant
workers and students in Beijing chose to escape to their hometowns. Employees of foreign companies
also left Beijing. The Washington Post reported that a local Beijing reporter estimated that nearly one
million people left Beijing because of SARS. The report also said that the airport and train stations in
Beijing were all packed, full of people who were preparing to flee Beijing. The college campuses were
increasingly empty. Two-thirds of the students at the Central University for Nationalities left Beijing.
This mass exodus actually further spread SARS from Beijing to other parts of the country.
When the Beijing government repeated said that SARS was under control in China, Dr. Jiang Yanyong, a
retired surgeon from the People’s Liberation Army’s Hospital 301 wrote a statement to the media,
accusing the Chinese health system of concealing the truth.
Dr. Jiang said that, by April 3, Hospital 309 in Beijing (designated by the PLA’s General Logistics
Department as the SARS special hospital) alone had accepted 60 SARS patients, at least six of whom
died. But according to statistics published by Minister of Health Zhang Wenkang as of April 3, there were
only 12 SARS-related cases in Beijing, including three deaths. Seventy-one-year-old Dr. Jiang, who had
been hired back by Hospital 301 as a consultant after retiring, said that he and many doctors and nurses he
worked with were irate about the underreporting.
Two weeks later, Zhang was fired. The public was outraged at all that had happened.
The Jiang faction continued to try to hide the development of SARS, but the disease remained merciless.
In mid-April, SARS entered Zhongnanhai, the central CCP compound, and infected two members of the
Politburo Standing Committee: Luo Gan and Wu Guanzheng. Wu Guanzheng was not seen in
Zhongnanhai for a long time after April 1. Luo Gan disappeared from the public eye for several months
after April 12. When word about this got out—it was top secret—Jiang Zemin grew anxious. Every few
days, the government’s official media would say that Luo and Wu were visiting this or that place. The
truth was, they both were struggling painfully with the SARS virus.
Because the CCP’s government-censored news reports and statements concealed the true situation of the
illness, preventative measures were taken later than they should have been, resulting in the spread of
SARS around the world. And more than 90 countries stopped issuing visas to Chinese citizens.
The consequences of the CCP’s initial silence and its information blockade on SARS-related news were
disastrous. The entire world bore heavy economic and human-life losses. The world was in shock.
Killing to Silence the Public Was Called “For the Sake of Stability”
After international organizations and citizens from overseas continuously condemned the Chinese
government for the way it was handling SARS, China’s Chairman Hu Jintao warned Health Ministry
officials not to hide SARS cases. Subsequently, Hu Jintao and Premier Wen Jiabao both appeared
frequently on TV, stepping to the front line in the war against SARS.
Jiang Zemin, on the other hand, took his whole family to Shanghai after Luo Gan and Wu Guanzheng
became ill. At that point, Jiang’s faction was in the background, as Hu and Wen fought on the SARS
frontline in Beijing. Jiang was in fact trying to use this opportunity to get rid of Hu and Wen. As soon as
Jiang arrived in Shanghai, he ordered that “we must defend Shanghai with our lives.” Chen Lianyu, CCP
Secretary for the Shanghai municipal government, was put in an impossible situation. SARS is invisible
and intangible, and it infects people without any warning. How could humans fight SARS with their
lives?
Jiang Zemin insisted on the policy of “stability above all else.” No matter how many people were taken to
the hospital for SARS in Shanghai, the government’s official statistics remained at four people. People
were saying things like, “This is completely ridiculous. Five people living in my building got SARS.”
Later, the official number changed to seven, the reason being that the three newly infected were
foreigners, and the government had to report it. By the end of the SARS crisis, the number of infections
reported in Shanghai remained at seven, an almost comical farce that epitomizes the folly of Jiang’s
insistence on putting “stability”—which is just a euphemism for his continued hold on power—above
human life. It would be comical, that is, were it not for its dire and tragic consequences.
Two weeks after Hu Jintao left for Guangdong to inspect the development of SARS, Jiang Zemin, who
had fled Beijing for Shanghai to escape SARS, appeared in public in Shanghai for the first time on April
26 and said, “China has achieved definitive results in controlling atypical pneumonia.” Because of the
Jiang faction’s lies and escape in the face of SARS, Jiang was disdained and hated. Students from Peking
University plainly said of him on the Internet, “Running to Shanghai to avoid the disaster! So afraid of
death!”
But wherever Jiang Zemin went, the SARS situation became worse. Although level after level of the
government in Shanghai ordered people “to defend Shanghai with human lives,” the results were not
good. Jiang, seeing that the situation wasn’t good in Shanghai, went on to Liaoning and Shandong
Provinces. When the SARS situation improved a little by late May, Jiang snuck back to Beijing. He was
still afraid of staying in Zhongnanhai, and moved to Yuquanshan in western Beijing instead. Some people
laughed at Jiang and said that in the face of SARS, Jiang, who is extremely afraid of death, could only run
around; he couldn’t feel safe anywhere.
Throughout the whole SARS ordeal, the policy of deception that Jiang and his followers pursued was the
direct cause of the disaster. They paid lip service to maintaining “stability,” while they were only
maintaining the stability of their own positions. They did not care in the least how many ordinary citizens
died.
Even after the SARS situation was made known to the public, Jiang kept hiding the truth about SARS.
According to Time magazine, on April 22, just a few hours before the WHO experts were to arrive at PLA
Hospital 309 in Beijing, the hospital moved more than 40 patients who had been confirmed to have SARS
to a hotel. The China-Japan Friendship Hospital also moved 31 SARS patients in ambulances to hide
them from the investigators. The woman who provided this information to Time said that nurses from the
China-Japan Friendship Hospital were outraged because they were kept in the same ambulances as the
SARS patients.
Internally, the CCP transmitted Jiang’s order to all levels of government that if SARS were reported in an
area, the local officials would be fired. As a result, no local official dared to report the situation on SARS
to the higher levels of government. They each strategized on their own how to “defeat” SARS. SARS
cases became the most confidential information among government officials.
The central government’s threat to fire local officials caused a chain effect in the government. Officials at
each level pressured the level below to do all they could to “defeat” and hide SARS. A very common
approach was to change the death certificate of the SARS victims. Inside sources reveal that to curb the
spread of SARS, hospitals gave SARS patients lethal injections.
A doctor from Guangdong Province who wishes to remain anonymous said, “There are no detailed
statistics on SARS patients. Beijing gave quotas to each local area. The local officials had to report their
numbers according to the quota. It is easy to see that the published numbers look very neat and orderly.”
A policeman from Shenzhen City who was specially assigned to handle deceased SARS patients said,
“Because there was a huge potential for those infected with SARS to infect others, the police in local
areas were required specifically to cremate the corpses.” He also said, “Beijing ordered that the number of
deaths in Shenzhen could not exceed 30. In fact, the number of SARS casualties in Shenzhen was much
higher than the publicized number.”
In Guangdong, Sichuan, Heilongjiang, Jilin, and Liaoning Provinces, the military barricaded entire
villages where SARS was found. They first cut off all phone lines to the area, and then forbade all people
from leaving, thereby concealing the news to the outside world. After one village was barricaded, a man
tried to escape and was shot to death by the soldiers.
In most of the barricaded villages, the military waited for the entire village to die out and then sanitized
the whole area. A policeman from Shenzhen said, “Hospitals no longer handled the dead bodies of SARS
patients. The military and police completely took over the task. The bodies were destroyed en masse by
the military.”
By the end of June, northeastern China alone saw about 10,000 casualties. The CCP’s information
blockade prevented mainland Chinese media from giving even the smallest clue. The Propaganda
Ministry issued orders that only the Xinhua News Agency may publish news related to SARS; no other
regional media was allowed to publish any news related to SARS without Xinhua’s approval. Prior to
that, the Propaganda Ministry reorganized newspapers and magazines nationwide and shut down certain
newspapers to prevent “disobedient” media from leaking information to the public.
Within the highest central CCP leadership in Beijing, there were huge disagreements on how to handle
SARS. One faction favored publicizing the truth to prevent the potential catastrophe were the epidemic to
spread unchecked. Meanwhile, Jiang Zemin’s position was that “if it maintains stability and prosperity, 2
million deaths are worth it.” How CCTV, which was tightly controlled by Jiang’s faction, reported on
SARS was directly determined by Jiang Zemin himself. Dr. Jiang Yanyong, who many called a “SARS
hero,” was quickly silenced and penalized according to military regulations.
The most ridiculous was that, instead of admitting to their own mistakes in the SARS epidemic, Jiang
Zemin and the CCP shifted the responsibility to the helpless common citizens and threatened to take
extreme measures against the people who “intentionally” spread SARS. When the government had failed
in its responsibilities, and when the people were rushing in a panic to save their own lives, how could
anyone possibly have “intentionally” spread SARS? Even at that time, Jiang Zemin did not pass up any
opportunity to defame Falun Gong. On June 9, Xinhua News Agency quite absurdly reported that Falun
Gong practitioners infected themselves with SARS and spread it throughout the nation. It was amazing
that the news anchors were able to say this with a straight face. It was suspected that this piece of news
was meant to provide the background needed to barricade and eliminate infected villages, as well as to
hinder Falun Gong adherents’ efforts to tell people about the persecution they faced. It was not at all
meant to relieve the SARS situation.
Throughout the spreading of the SARS epidemic, Jiang Zemin exhibited his extreme cowardice and
disregard for human life.
2. Article 23 Legislation in Hong Kong
On July 1, 2003, the CCP celebrated the sixth anniversary of Hong Kong’s return to Chinese rule. To the
CCP’s surprise, on that very day, Hong Kong saw the largest public demonstration since the 1989
Tiananmen Square massacre—over half a million Hong Kong residents took to the streets to demonstrate
against the proposed Article 23 of the Basic Law and to request general election of Hong Kong’s chief
executive and Legislative Council.
A few hours prior to the demonstration, the CCP’s Foreign Affairs Ministry spokesperson told reporters,
“You say that over 10,000 people [will attend the demonstration], but it hasn’t even happened yet. The
organizers say the protest won’t start until 3 p.m., so it’s hard to say how many people will participate.”
Well, the actual number of participants turned out to be at least 500,000, much higher than 10,000. The
CCP has completely lost touch with the sentiments of Hong Kong residents.
The Devil Is in the Details
During the 1989 democratic movement in Beijing, over one million Hong Kong residents participated in
street demonstrations to support the students. Beijing was in fear and called Hong Kong a “base for
subversion.” When the Beijing government drafted the Basic Law of Hong Kong (Hong Kong’s
constitution), they proposed a provision that the Hong Kong Special Administrative Region government
could legislate to outlaw subversion (Article 23) when necessary. Even then, some legal experts objected,
as they considered Article 23 (also called the “National Security Provision”) inconsistent with the spirit of
democracy and freedom in Hong Kong.
Before Hong Kong’s return to China, when China and the United Kingdom were negotiating the
transition of power, Beijing intended to establish Article 23 of the Basic Law to govern treason and the
crime of subversion. The proposal received strong opposition from many circles in Hong Kong and the
United Kingdom. To secure a smooth transition of power, Beijing publicly announced that it would delay
the passage of Article 23.
The final draft of Article 23 of the Hong Kong Basic Law published in April 1990 has the following
characteristics:
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
It provides that any group or its branch organizations banned in mainland China for the purpose
of national security could also be banned at any time in Hong Kong. The Hong Kong
government need not conduct any independent investigation.
The provisions intentionally blur the concepts of the nation and the government, confusing the
relationship between the two. In a democratic country, citizens have the right to monitor or
replace the government. However, Article 23 states that opposition to the government is the
same as opposing the nation as a whole.
The police are given excessive power. For example, the police would not need a court-issued
warrant to search a residence or make any arrest. No evidence would be needed. Simply
suspicion on the part of the police would suffice.
Any speech that the Hong Kong government deems inflammatory can be reason for conviction.
The speech may be oral, written, or in any electronic format. The speech makers, those who hear
the speech, and those who know of the speech but do not report are all guilty.
Permanent Hong Kong residents, no matter where they are, are bound by this law. Overseas
violators of Article 23 would be extradited back to Hong Kong. Those inside Hong Kong, no
matter what nationality (including passers-by and visitors) would also be under the jurisdiction
of Article 23. Sentences range from seven years on the light side to lifetime imprisonment.
The Hong Kong Bar Association believed that Article 23 would make it even a crime to write personal
thoughts in one’s dairy or on paper. The proposed offence of “misprison of treason” would “in effect
make it the duty of an ordinary person to report treason.” [1] The result would be criminalization of the
ignorant, the naïve, and the trusting, and even those who are under a professional and ethical obligation
not to reveal confidences. Such legislation is prone to wrong judgments. Well-known Hong Kong
attorney Hung Yuk Wu said that right after SARS, if important public health information were classified
as “national secrets,” then everyone’s life would have been threatened.
Meant to Target the Falun Gong
Jiang Zemin began the persecution against the Falun Gong in July 1999. Although Jiang used all he could
to persecute Falun Gong in the mainland, and Tung Chi-hwa had placed some limitations on Falun Gong
activities in Hong Kong, the government could not apply the same totalitarian suppression in Hong Kong
as in mainland China due to the need to maintain the appearance of the “One Country, Two Systems.”
Hong Kong is a financial center for the world. It is also a popular tourist site among mainland Chinese
travelers. Every day, a large number of visitors arrive in Hong Kong, and they are often given leaflets
containing information about the persecution of Falun Gong, information they cannot get in the mainland.
At tourist attractions, they are shown the video that Falun Gong followers produced to expose the farce of
the Jan. 23, 2001, “self-immolation.” This is something Jiang simply cannot stand. Jiang considered the
Article 23 legislation to be the best way to get rid of the Falun Gong in Hong Kong.
Because the legislation would have affected the rights of a large number of people, and its influence
would have been quite broad, it attracted much international attention, directly impacting economic
development in Hong Kong and the image of the Hong Kong SAR government. But Jiang was too busy
to care about that. Since July 1999, nearly all of Jiang’s thoughts and energy have been focused on
suppressing the Falun Gong. In Mainland China, Jiang could kill the Falun Gong followers. In Hong
Kong, all he could do was try to push the new law through by force.
Personnel Matters
The first Chief Executive of the Hong Kong S.A.R., Tung Chi-hwa, was the son of C.Y. Tung, a shipping
tycoon from Hong Kong. C.Y. Tung once owned the largest fleet of oil tankers in the world. However,
after Tung Chi-hwa took over the business, it declined to bankruptcy within 10 years. In 1997, the
Oriental Overseas Shipping Line owned by the Tung family was in a dire situation. It only turned around
after the CCP offered financial support. Thus, Tung was very obedient to the CCP.
As chief executive, Tung was not the choice of the people of Hong Kong but the choice of Beijing. Most
people from Hong Kong did not want Tung to serve a second term.
Indeed, Tung’s fate was not in his own hands, but dependent on how useful he was to Jiang. In the first
few years of Tung’s tenure, Jiang did not gain anything substantial. On the contrary, due to the Asian
financial crisis, Jiang had invested heavily in Tung. How could Tung just leave that easily? Jiang had
done his calculations and urgently needed Tung to accomplish an important task for him.
At the end of 2001, when Tung gave a report in Beijing on his position, outside reports said, “Jiang
expressed unreserved support for him (Tung) and the S.A.R. government. All of this laid a solid
foundation for Tung’s continuing to serve a second term.”
In early 2002, Secretary for Justice Elsie Leung expressed several times that she did not want to continue
to serve the post. In late February, Leung was called to Beijing and met with by Qian Qichen, Vice
Premier and Politburo member in charge of Hong Kong and Macau affairs. Since then, Leung never again
mentioned her intention to leave the position. According to sources, Elsie Leung was born in a family of
underground CCP members. When Jiang arranged for her to stay in her position, she of course needed to
obey the orders of her superiors.
On July 1, 2002, with Jiang’s strong support, Tung Chi-hwa, whose performance had been dismal, was
re-elected as the head of Hong Kong S.A.R.
Not surprisingly, soon after Tung assembled his new cabinet, the Department of Justice quickly
announced the Hong Kong government’s decision to establish Article 23 of the Basic Law. The public
comment period on the proposed Article 23 was only three months long. A more detailed proposal was to
be published no later than the beginning of the following year. The proposal was to be sent to the
legislature to be reviewed and passed. Elsie Leung said she had already communicated with Beijing on
this matter.
Forcing Anson Chan to Resign
Since the persecution against Falun Gong began, Jiang had put Article 23 on his agenda and continued to
pressure the Hong Kong government to pass the law. However, Hong Kong high-level officials led by
Anson Chan Fang On-sang delayed the matter, saying that it was not necessary and that Hong Kong
needed to maintain its image.
Chan had always been known for speaking her mind, and was called the conscience of Hong Kong. When
Hong Kong returned to Chinese rule in 1997, Chan was the most popular official in Hong Kong. Many
Hong Kong people believed that if the first executive for the special administrative region were to be
elected by popular vote, Chan would be the sure winner. As a person who had lived and worked in a
democracy, Chan was well aware that the freedom of belief is a most fundamental right. Since the
suppression of the Falun Gong began, as the second-highest official in Hong Kong, she upheld the Falun
Gong adherents’ freedom of belief as members of a society governed by rule of law. This had deeply
aggravated Jiang Zemin. Jiang could not directly fire Chan, so he forced her to resign.
Now that Tung was re-elected as chief executive, Secretary of Justice Elsie Leung also continued for a
second term, and Secretary of Security Regina Ip Lau Suk-yee was eager to show Jiang her ability and
loyalty and could hardly wait. The three formed an iron triangle. The time was ripe for Jiang’s plans in
Hong Kong.
Jiang hoped to recycle the strategy that he had used in the initial phase of suppressing Falun Gong,
namely, to quickly achieve victory by launching all-pervasive assaults. In Hong Kong, to avoid criticism
from the international community, Jiang agreed to a nominal three-month consultation period. In Macau,
which received fairly little attention from the rest of the world, there was no consultation period. The
legislation became effective immediately.
Jiang was eager to place this form of restraint on Hong Kong. However, he forgot one fact. Article 23 was
added to the Basic Law after over one million Hong Kong residents took to the streets twice to support
democracy and condemn the CCP’s massacre during the 1989 democracy movement. Now Jiang’s
intention involved more than crushing the Falun Gong. Instead, he was trying to push forward a challenge
to the bottom line of democracy in Hong Kong, home to seven million people. That is just how Jiang is.
When he wants to do something terrible he has no concern about the potential consequences.
Opposition From Everywhere
The issue of Article 23 received tremendous attention from a wide array of people including various
countries’ governments, non-governmental organizations, religious circles, news media, overseas Hong
Kong people, legal circles, students, businesspeople, and people in Taiwan. Opposition from various
groups in Hong Kong and Chinese people the world over remained strong and was getting stronger.
Democracy advocates in Hong Kong and others actively explained the danger of Article 23 to the public
and sought help from Western countries.
On the afternoon of Sunday, Dec. 15, 2002, more than 40 Hong Kong organizations held the largest
peaceful demonstration since Hong Kong’s return to Chinese rule to oppose the government’s proposed
“anti-subversion law” based on Article 23 of the Basic Law. The police estimated that 12,000 people
participated in the event, while the organizations estimated 60,000. Whatever the actual number, it was
undeniably the largest demonstration since China took over Hong Kong in 1997. More and more Hong
Kong residents came to understand the effect of Article 23 on the freedom of speech, freedom of the
press, and human rights. They took to the streets to express their concern.
In Chinese communities outside of China, groups from Hong Kong organized activities opposing Article
23. They stated, “Defend Hong Kong, Defend Our Conscience.” “Oppose Article 23 and Return the
Government to the People.” Worldwide protests began.
The Global Coalition Against Article 23 Legislation was established on Dec. 4, 2002. Its mission was to
protect human rights and the rule of law in Hong Kong. The Coalition called on overseas Chinese people
to become united to defend democracy and freedom in Hong Kong, and to restore Hong Kong as a “pearl
of the Orient.” The Coalition’s website received more than 9,000 signatures opposing Article 23 within a
few days. The Coalition held gatherings in Washington DC and Los Angeles in support of the
demonstrations in Hong Kong. Branch offices of the Global Alliance for Democracy and Peace (GADP)
and Chinese groups in Vancouver also held local activities, encouraging the public to speak out against
Article 23.
500,000 From Hong Kong Take to the Streets, Catching the World’s Attention
July 1, 2003, was an extremely hot day, but that did not stop the 500,000 from marching. The protest
against the Hong Kong government’s proposed Article 23 was far larger than expected. It not only
shocked Hong Kong, but also took the world by surprise.
The Civil Human Rights Front, a group consisting of more than 40 organizations, initiated the
demonstration. The demonstrated started at 3 p.m. in the afternoon and ended at 9:30 p.m., six and a half
hours. Some media estimated the number of participants to be as high as 1.2 million. Hong Kong police
admit that at least 350,000 participated. The most widely accepted, conservative number is 500,000, a
significant proportion of Hong Kong’s 6.8 million people.
Almost all major Western media reported on the demonstration with both words and photos. The historic
event was the headline story for many Hong Kong media. The Associated Press described the
demonstrators as angry and anxious Hong Kongers. Voice of America said that the protestors came from
all walks of life. The Wall Street Journal criticized the Hong Kong government for ignoring public
opinion and called this a forerunner of decline for Hong Kong were it to continue. The New York
Times said that hundreds of thousands of Hong Kong residents took to the streets and formed the largest
protest in China since the 1989 Tiananmen Square massacre to mourn the impending loss of civil liberties
in Hong Kong.
Most mainland Chinese, however, did not hear about the event. The CCP censored nearly all related
news. On July 1, the day of the demonstration, Phoenix Television, a Hong Kong TV station that follows
orders from the CCP, only reported that 60,000 people “celebrated the anniversary of Hong Kong’s return
to China,” while ignoring the 500,000-strong demonstration. No mainland Chinese media reported on the
event.
The demonstration in Hong Kong shook Beijing. The political forces in Hong Kong became divided
under the pressure from public opinion. On the evening of July 6, Chairman of the Liberal Party James
Tien suddenly announced his resignation as a member of the Legislative Council. The Liberal Party
simultaneously published a statement supporting a delay in the second-phase review of Article 23.
Tung Chi-hwa had calculated its chances. Out of the 60 members of the Legislative Council, 28 or 29
were pro-Beijing. James Tien, Chairman of the Liberal Party, controlled eight legislators from his party.
As a member of the government, Tien had the responsibility to follow Tung’s orders. Altogether, Tung
thought for sure he had 36 or 37 votes, more than half of the legislative council. That was why he totally
ignored the strong opposition from the public and tried to force the law through. However, Tien’s sudden
resignation cost Tung eight votes from the Liberal Party. The passing of Article 23 was no longer
possible. The second-phase review of Article 23 had to be postponed indefinitely.
On the evening of July 16, the Hong Kong S.A.R. government announced its acceptance of the
resignation of Secretary of Security Regina Ip Lau Suk-yee and Financial Secretary Antony Leung Kamchung. Ip had very low public support due to her terse approach to push Article 23 through the Legislative
Council.
By then, Jiang had lost and could not turn the situation around.
On Sept. 5, when the passage of Article 23 was apparently impossible, Hong Kong’s chief executive
Tung Chi-hwa announced, with little sincerity, that the government withdrew the “National Security
(Legislative Provisions) Bill” out of public concern regarding Article 23.
Jiang’s plan to use Hong Kong’s Article 23 to control Falun Gong and suppress Hong Kong people ended
up a complete failure. However, Jiang used the opportunity to turn the tables and shirk responsibility. He
accused Hu Jintao, who was in charge of Hong Kong affairs, of failing to report to the CCP Central
Committee the true situation of Hong Kong residents and causing a policy mistake. He stripped Hu of the
powerful position of managing Hong Kong affairs, and handed over the position to his trusted follower
Zeng Qinghong.
On March 10, 2005, after losing his main benefactor Jiang Zemin, Tung Chi-hwa officially resigned from
the Hong Kong S.A.R. Chief Executive position.
3. Jiang Hangs on to Power in Defiance of Public Opinion and Engages in a Power Struggle With
Hu
2003 was a year of intense power struggle between Jiang Zemin and Hu Jintao.
At the 4th Plenary Conference of the CCP’s 16th Congress in November 2002, Jiang was forced to give
up his position of chairman of the nation and CCP general secretary. However, Jiang was reluctant to let
go of his power. He directed Zhang Wannian to suddenly propose a motion that would enable Jiang to
keep the control of the military.
Jiang also set up a few rules for the nine members of the Standing Committee of the Politburo. The most
important one was that the Standing Committee, with its nine members, was the collective leadership.
There was no “core” to the standing committee because Jiang could not stand having Hu replace him as
the new core. Another important directive from Jiang was that small things, ordinary things, should be
decided by the Standing Committee after discussion. However, important matters had to be decided by
Jiang Zemin. Even though Jiang lost power, Hu could not have full control. Jiang’s desire for power, fear
of losing power, and jealousy of others who wield power are beyond imagination.
Fighting Over the Pecking Order
Some called this strange leadership structure inappropriate because it was neither the third generation of
leaders nor the fourth generation. The most laughable was that CCP General Secretary and Chairman of
the Nation Hu Jintao was merely the Vice Chairman of the CMC, yet Jiang Zemin, who no longer had
any titles in the party or the central government, was Chairman of the CMC. The country’s top-level
leadership structure was seen as a farce. An overseas media agency used an analogy to describe the odd
situation of the CCP leadership: Jiang’s continuing control of the military resulted in an usual power
allocation for China; it was likened to Clinton giving the presidency to Bush yet staying on as
Commander in Chief of the United States military.
Inside the CCP, there were heated debates after the 16th Congress about whether Hu or Jiang’s name
should appear first in media reports. This uncertainty, which implied that his power was no longer
unquestioned, highly irritated Jiang. Therefore, he tried everything he could to fight for power.
Jiang did all he could to promote generals that were loyal to him. This was his open challenge to Hu,
since it showed that he came before Hu. For a while after the 16th Congress, Jiang was always mentioned
before Hu. It wasn’t because Jiang was very confident about himself. Instead, he was trying to show the
international community that he was still the true power center of China. He was trying to show the
United States government that they must go through him to get anything done.
But with the support of Party elders, Hu was also flexing his muscles behind the scenes. He did exactly
what Jiang hated. For example, at the end of 2002, Hu hosted the first round of ideology education with
members of the new Politburo, during which he invited experts to discuss the constitution. Hu used the
constitution to strengthen his own power position, while hinting that Jiang violated the constitution.
Although Hu did not say it explicitly, all those in the audience knew what he was getting at.
Before New Year’s Day in 2003, to show off his position, Jiang suggested that the Politburo host a
meeting to discuss their recent experience within the CCP. Former Politburo members were also invited.
Jiang had planned to use this meeting to please Politburo members and reduce the dissatisfaction of the
members over Jiang’s extended control of the military. At the meeting, Jiang said that another five years
had passed, and it would be good for the members to untie their “knots” and communicate with each
other. To his surprise, the members were having an argument, and Jiang was the main target. Li Ruihuan
said that in the past five years, Jiang never listened to different or opposing opinions. Other members
raised almost 40 complaints about Jiang in six different subject areas, including monopoly on power,
dictatorship, promoting a cult of personality, creating memorials for himself, publishing books about
himself, and showing off everywhere. They accused Jiang of severely damaging China’s image and
dignity in the international community. During the meeting, the members also questioned why all the
important CCP and political decisions must be reviewed and approved by Jiang, an ordinary CCP
member, and why Jiang’s name is listed before the Party’s General Secretary and other members of the
Standing Committee of the Politburo in internal Party documents and local politically-controlled
newspapers. By the end of the meeting, the members all agreed that Hu’s name should be in front of Jiang
in future publications.
Beginning from Jan. 1, 2003, all internal CCP documents and notices placed Hu Jintao in the first place
and Jiang Zemin in the second. Jiang was irritated by this. He avoided appearing in public with Hu until
Jan. 20. On Jan. 21, Jiang and Hu both attended an entertainment performance hosted by the CMC. Jiang
walked in front of Hu on this occasion.
At Wit’s End and Unappreciated
To maintain his power, Jiang Zemin continued to tout the Three Represents.
Between Feb. 12–18, Jiang hosted Three Represents Training Courses at the Communist Central Party
School for newly elected members of the Central Committee, alternate members of the Central
Committee, and leaders of the central government and the ministries under the State Council.
To Jiang’s disappointment, some of the high-ranking officials at the trainings not only failed to praise the
Three Represents, but criticized it. They believed that if the CCP’s monitoring mechanisms were not
strengthened and the Party’s power was not solidified, talking about the Three Represents and
implementing the requirements of the Three Represents was simply a waste of time. The theory could not
solve any of the Party’s real problems, they felt. When some participants in the training courses objected
to the Party’s consistent use of the Three Represents slogans, they were in fact targeting Jiang Zemin.
They said the Three Represents was not created until 2001; saying that the CCP had always followed it
since it took over China in 1949 and especially since the 4th Plenary Meeting of the 13th CCP Congress
was a complete lie, and one that was being told to the 60 million CCP members and 1.3 billion Chinese
people. The trainees were the new batch of high-ranking leaders of the CCP. Their position on the Three
Represents was actually what they thought of Jiang Zemin.
On March 15, 2003, during the People’s Congress’s single-candidate, usually rubber-stamp elections,
Jiang’s bid for re-election as Chairman of the CMC was met with 98 votes in opposition and 122
abstentions. If the results had been based on the rules of real, competitive elections, Jiang would not
possibly have been elected. Jiang was quite distraught about it.
On March 18, 2003, Xinhua News Agency, which was still under Jiang’s control, at Jiang’s orders
published congratulatory letters from leaders of several foreign countries, including the President of
Congo Sassou Nguesso, President of Namibia Sam Nujoma, King Fahd of Saudi Arabia, and President of
Uruguay Jorge Batlle Ibanez. The purpose was to create a veneer of popularity of Jiang.
Interestingly, of the leaders of important Western countries who Jiang had contact with in the past, such
as the United States, Canada, the United Kingdom, France, and Russia, none of them sent a
congratulatory letter to Jiang for his re-election as Chairman of the CMC. Jiang often said that he would
guide Hu another leg of the journey and support Hu for another stretch, in order to show him his unique
way of handling international affairs. What Jiang meant was that he thought China couldn’t continue
without him. But as soon as Jiang left the top post, nobody took him seriously anymore. Jiang felt like his
reputation had been dragged through the mud, leaving him angry and resentful.
Planting Trusted Followers and Causing the Submarine Incident
On May 2, 2003, a Chinese Navy conventional submarine sunk during a routine training exercise in the
eastern Chinese territorial waters near Neichangshan. All 70 people aboard were killed.
There were a variety of reasons given for the sea disaster. At first, the CCP announced that it was due to a
mechanical malfunction. It later changed its statement and said the accident was due to improper
commands. When recovered and returned to harbor, the submarine was in good condition with no
apparent damage. In addition, the 70 people were suffocated to death within a very short period of time.
Overseas military experts found it surprising that nobody in the submarine escaped the disaster, since all
submarines are designed with an escape hatch to allow the crew a way out. Other military commentators
also pointed out that the sea water outside of the Liaodong Peninsula was only 100 to 200 meters deep,
which was considered shallow for a submarine. Even with the presence of mechanical problems, the
submarine should have been able to sustain the crew for a period of time, enabling some people in the
submarine to survive the incident. The entire incident was veiled in secrecy.
A while later, an insider from the Chinese Navy revealed that the incident was an act of revenge on the
part of a navy official who was about to retire; the official committed suicide and killed dozens of others
to protest Jiang Zemin’s military cuts. Jiang had brought in new blood to replace existing officials in
order to rid the established military leaders of their influence at various levels, and to install his own
followers. His actions frustrated many retiring officials, resulting in the serious incident with the North
Sea Fleet.
Originally, 57 navy troops and officials were assigned to the submarine. Before the incident, the North
Sea Fleet happened to have sent a Deputy Squadron Leader at the rank of Senior Colonel to inspect the
submarine, and brought 12 more people aboard. The angry official who caused the accident thought that
this would be the best opportunity for revenge. When the submarine left the navy base at Qingdao, he
shut off the air inlet, resulting in the lack of oxygen throughout the submarine and killing 69 others and
himself.
After the incident, Jiang not only failed to own up to his responsibility for it, but also fired the Navy
commander Shi Yunsheng, the Navy’s political commissioner Yang Huaiqing, the commander of the
North Sea Fleet, and the political commissioner of the North Sea Fleet. Jiang replaced them with people
who had pledged loyalty to him. The current commander of the Navy, Zhang Dingfa, was promoted by
Jiang to the position in part because of the incident. Another reason for his appointment was so that he
could monitor Hu Jintao from within the CMC.
On June 13, Xinhua Net, a Jiang-controlled news website, said that the investigation into the Navy’s
Submarine No. 361 incident had come to a conclusion. The cause of the incident, it said, was
“inappropriate commands.” However, the report did not dare discuss why there would have been
inappropriate commands.
An event to offer condolences to the families of the deceased was planned. Jiang made certain that Hu
would be invited and come as Vice Chairman of the CMC—the operative word being “Vice.”
What the public saw about the event was a report like the following: “CMC Chairman Jiang Zemin, and
CMC Vice Chairmen Hu Jintao, Guo Boxiong, and Cao Gangchuan met on the 5th with representatives
of the family members of the deceased crew from the Navy’s Submarine No. 361 and representatives of
their divisions. On behalf of the CMC, Jiang Zemin…” Jiang again built himself up and tried to frame
himself as a popular leader of the people and the military, making sure people noted that he was ranked
higher than Hu. His scheme was quite clumsy, however, because by building himself up he brought more
blame on himself for the incident.
Using “Shenzhou V” to Glorify His Son
At 9 a.m. sharp on Oct. 15, 2003, “Shenzhou V,” a manned spacecraft costing 19 billion yuan, was
successfully launched at the Jiuquan Satellite Launch Center in Gansu Province.
Jiang, accompanied by Wu Bangguo and Zeng Qinghong, arrived at the satellite launch center before the
scheduled time. Jiang wanted to beat Hu in being the first to talk with the astronaut so that he could get all
the attention. However, in the CCP’s official media reports, only Hu Jintao, Huang Ju, Wu Guanzheng,
Cao Gangchuan, and Wang Gang were shown or mentioned as watching the launch live at the launch
center. Jiang Zemin was not mentioned at all. This demonstrated that the struggle between the Jiang and
Hu factions had intensified.
However, the biggest surprise surrounding the launch of “Shenzhou V” was the sudden rise to fame of
Jiang Zemin’s first son Jiang Mianheng. Jiang Mianheng was named Deputy Commander of “Shenzhou
V.” Guangming Daily, a mouthpiece for the CCP, published an article on Oct. 17 and used the success of
“Shenzhou V” to glorify Jiang Mianheng. Many found the report a bit surprising.
Jiang Mianheng received a doctoral degree in mechanical engineering from Drexel University in
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, on June 1991. He worked for Hewlett-Packard after graduation. In January
1993, Jiang Mianheng returned to China and worked for Shanghai Institute of Metallurgy (now Shanghai
Institute of Microsystem and Information Technology), under the Chinese Academy of Sciences. In July
1997, Jiang Mianheng was promoted to be the director of Shanghai Institute of Metallurgy. Two years
later, in November 1999, as if riding on a rocket, he was promoted to the position of Vice President of the
Chinese Academy of Sciences. From 1993 to 1999, in six short years, Jiang Mianheng leapt from being
an ordinary researcher to Vice President of the Chinese Academy of Sciences. Just like Lin Biao
promoted his son Lin Liguo during the Cultural Revolution, Jiang Zemin has specifically arranged for
Jiang Mianheng’s rise in status.
China’s manned space flight engineering command was the highest organization in charge of launching
“Shenzhou V.” The Commander General was General Li Jinai, commissioner of the CMC and Director of
the General Armament Department (GAD). Of the four deputy commanders, only Jiang Mianheng was
not trained in the field. The other deputy commanders were experts. They included Deputy Director of the
GAD Hu Shixiang, China Aerospace Science and Technology Corporation general manager Zhang
Qingwei, and director of China National Space Administration Luan Enjie.
When it came to technology, Jiang Mianheng was a relative novice. The manned spacecraft project was
extraordinarily expensive and involved tremendous responsibility. It therefore required very specific
expert knowledge. By any normal reasoning, Jiang Mianheng should not have been appointed deputy
commander of the project.
The reason why Jiang Mianheng’s name rose in status after the successful launch was that Jiang Zemin
utilized the situation to advance his son’s political career. Jiang Zemin unscrupulously placed Jiang
Mianheng into the core of the military. That could give Jiang Zemin’s words more weight, he thought. At
the right time, he thought, Jiang Mianheng might even be able to control the military, similar to what
happened with Lin Biao’s son Lin Liguo.
Jiang Zemin was extremely power hungry, and at the same time extremely fearful of losing power. He
wouldn’t feel safe unless someone he trusted was in power. Now faced with having to hand over power
entirely, Jiang’s worry and wish to keep power grew. Only when power rested in his sons’ hands could he
feel safest. Indeed, for a long time, Jiang has placed his sons and other family members in key
government positions. His oldest son, Jiang Mianheng, is in charge of the sciences, including China
Telecom and the Internet. He not only learns about technology but also makes a big profit. His youngest
son, Jiang Miankang, was quickly promoted to the position of Major General in the General Political
Department of the military. Under a great deal of pressure both from inside and outside of China to hand
over control over the military, Jiang Zemin had wanted also to place his older son Jiang Mianheng into
the military to increase his control of the military. As soon as the “Shenzhou V” was launched, the Jiang
father-and-son pair was anxious reap the benefits.
Along the same lines, in 2003, in order to increase his power, Jiang Zemin also suggested the promotion
of his faithful follower and lover Chen Zhili so that she might participate in work related to the CMC,
defense technology, and education. However, the high leaders of the military looked down on Chen and
nicknamed her “Chen the whore.” At a meeting of the Standing Committee of the Politburo, Jiang’s
suggestion to promote Chen roused much controversy and was set aside for the time being.
On the eve of Jiang’s fall from power, he kept making changes to try to salvage the situation. But it was
impossible to turn things around. Soon after his attempts, Jiang lost his power amidst embarrassing
opposition.
____________________
Note:
[1] “Pinglun: 23 Tiao Lifa Shi Yi Ji Manxing Duyao” (Commentary: Enactment of Article 23 Is a Potion of Slow-Acting
Poison). Apple Daily, Dec. 10, 2002.
After Jiang Zemin was sued in Chicago he quickly grew preoccupied with the question of how to handle
Falun Gong’s litigation efforts.
It was said that Jiang ordered, “Everything must be done to prevent Falun Gong from winning the
lawsuits.” Falun Gong thus became the first priority, both militarily and economically. Jiang was willing
to make enormous economic sacrifices in exchange for intervention—or help, that is—by the U.S.
government in the litigation he was subject to. To this end Jiang quietly dispatched a team consisting of
27 members to the Chinese embassy in Washington, D.C. The team’s mission was to identify the hobbies
and interests of congressmen and senators so that Jiang could, acting on these insights, win their support
and get them to lobby on his behalf.
However, overall things didn’t go as Jiang had hoped. As of June 2005, 35 attorneys from 29 countries
had come together to work as a team to bring Jiang to justice; to date the group has filed 16 lawsuits
against Jiang in 15 different countries. Counting cases against Jiang and an additional 22 suits against
CCP officials, a total of 47 lawsuits have been filed in connection with the suppression of Falun Gong.
This amounts to the largest international human rights legal effort since the aftermath of World War II.
In light of this—both the extent to which they have affected and disturbed Jiang and their international,
historic stature—the lawsuits warrant a close look.
1. The First Lawsuit Against Jiang
In August 2000, Chu O-ming from Hong Kong and Wang Jie from Beijing mailed a petition letter to the
Supreme People’s Procuratorate in Beijing, accusing Jiang, Lou Gan, and Zeng Qinghong of banning and
suppressing Falun Gong illegally. This became the first lawsuit against Jiang. After the Procuratorate
received the letter, the defendants Jiang and Luo Gan personally issued an order to arrest the plaintiffs.
Two weeks after the letter was mailed, the two plaintiffs were arrested in Beijing. Among them Wang Jie
was persecuted to death in 2001, and Chu O-ming was sentenced to five years imprisonment secretly and
has since been in jail in Chadian Prison in Tianjin City ever since.
Since Jiang’s clique began persecuting Falun Gong comprehensively in 1999, Chu O-ming and Wang Jie
had bought books on law, searching for relevant legal provisions inside them, and later drafted briefs
detailing the illegality of the persecution in light of the facts and their research. They finished writing the
petition letter to the Supreme People’s Procuratorate in July 2000. The petition letter accused Jiang (then
President, Chinese Communist Party General Secretary, and Central Military Commission Chairman),
Luo Gan (then State Councilor and Secretary of the Political and Judiciary Committee) and Zeng
Qinghong (then Politburo member, chief of the secretariat of the CPC Central Committee, and Minister of
Organization) of persecuting Falun Gong, claiming that they “seriously tarnished the state’s reputation,
social morality, and undermined the state’s institutions, constitution and law.” [1] On Aug. 25, Chu Oming and Wang Jie mailed the letter from a post office located on Changan Street in Beijing.
After Jiang and Luo Gan learned of this, they were flustered and exasperated, and immediately ordered a
mass hunt as if this was a major incident. Soon after, it was found that Chu O-ming once acted as the
manager of the international trade department in Yanshan Petrochemical Company in Beijing. Following
that clue, at about 11 p.m. on Sept. 7, two weeks after the letter was mailed, more than 20 undercover
policemen from Haidian District and Fangshan District surrounded the apartment where Chu O-ming and
Wang Jie were temporarily staying, and both Wang and Zhu were arrested.
Jiang and Luo Gan Vent Their Personal Spite
After Chu O-ming and Wang Jie were arrested on Sept. 7, there was no further news about them. After
Falun Gong followers and friends who cared for them inquired about their situation through various
channels, they learned that the two were “arrested on Jiang and Luo’s direct orders,” and “nobody is
allowed to investigate this matter or intercede for them.”
After Chu O-ming and Wang Jie were arrested, Jiang and Luo Gan had nothing to interrogate them about,
but were determined only to vent their personal spite. Therefore, the police officers didn’t bother to
interrogate them, but instead beat and tortured them. However, both of them were resolute and steadfast,
and would rather die than surrender. Since Wang Jie was a Chinese citizen (Zhu was not) he was subject
to even more horrible torture methods.
On Nov. 30, 2000, the Beijing Hospital of Chinese and Western Medicine wrote on Wang Jie’s
“Diagnosis and Treatment Record” (medical record no. 53791) “[Wang] was treated in the hospital from
Nov. 24–30, a total of seven days. The discharge diagnosis was chronic renal insufficiency,
glomerulonephritis.” At that time Wang Jie’s weight had gone down from 70 kilograms before his arrest
to 50 kilograms after his arrest.
On Nov. 30, 2000, Wang Jie’s relatives were notified by authorities to come post bail for Wang and await
trial. According to insiders, at the time Wang Jie was completely disoriented. He had lost control of his
bowels and bladder, and needed dialysis every other day. Reporters saw another statement, which read
Wang Jie was treated in Beijing Friendship Hospital, affiliated with Capital University of Medical
Sciences, from Nov. 30 to Dec. 16 (a total of 16 days), with a total charge of 9806.98 yuan (US$1,200)
mostly from the cost of dialysis.
When Wang Jie was hospitalized in Beijing Friendship Hospital, the police officers kept watch on him in
the hospital every day. His health never improved, and he didn’t speak a word during that time.
Afterwards the police officers allowed his family to bring him back home to be treated by Traditional
Chinese medicine with the precondition that he was to be “awaiting trial.” Their intention was to allow
him to recover so that they could arrest him again and continually persecute him.
“The most painful moment was when the police officers kneed me in the kidneys”
After Wang Jie was brought back home, his symptoms were resolving. However, he still couldn’t move
his body, not to mention walk. When his family members asked what kind of suffering he underwent
while in police custody, he didn’t answer, but his eyes were filled with tears.
In late April 2001, Wang Jie was brought overseas with the help of some very kind people. On May 2,
some Falun Gong practitioners discovered that Wang Jie displayed symptoms of losing memory,
breathing difficulties, and extreme muscle weakness. Someone brought articles from the Minghui website
which described very difficult situations (including the terrible police pouring boiling water, burning with
cigars, freezing, and beating) that Falun Gong adherents suffered, and legendary cultivation stories about
Buddha Milarepa’s difficult life journey all to encourage Wang Jie. One day, Wang suddenly started to
talk, saying, “I have experienced all these tortures.” Wang once asked an adherent beside him, “Have you
ever heard of Zhazi Cave? I suffered the tortures similar to that experienced in Zhazi Cave.” The friend
asked, “When they were beating you, were you afraid?” Wang Jie, who was reserved by nature, suddenly
opened his eyes widely and said, “That’d be unthinkable!”
Wang Jie’s skin around his ankles had been worn through to the bone from having been shackled for so
long. The wounds didn’t heal for a long time afterwards. Wang said that one of the means of torture
police often used was to wrap a person up with a layer of something before beating him violently. That
way the wounds would not be visible.
A friend once asked Wang, “What was your most painful moment?” Wang replied, “The moment when
the police officers kneed me in the kidneys.” After Wang was abducted to Fangshan District Detention
Center, he was beaten by police every day. The police officers received instructions from Jiang and Luo
Gan, and had no intention of interrogating him, but constantly beat him mercilessly. After the vicious
police officers kneed him in the kidneys fiercely, Wang fell into a coma for one month and only regained
consciousness after being rescued.
In his final days, Wang developed night sweats and hematemesis. Sometimes after eating one or two
mouthfuls of food, he would violently vomit blood, and the blood was thick and mealy-looking. When
recalling this experience, an insider said that this was a symptom often associated with damage to the
central nervous system. Wang Jie at the time was extremely weak. To maintain breathing during sleep at
night, he needed to slowly remove his underpants to relieve the pressure of the elastic band against his
waist. But he endured the pain silently and firmly. In the midnight of June 18, 2001, Wang Jie fell to the
ground in the restroom and never rose again. He was 38 years old at the time.
In February 2001, Chu O-ming’s family members were notified by authorities to go to Fangshan District
to pick up Chu O-ming. However, when his family members reached Fangshan District, the police
officers claimed that he had already been picked up, but they did not disclose who picked him up.
In April 2001, Zhu’s family members were notified again and they learned that Zhu was secretly
sentenced to five years imprisonment and transferred to Chadian Prison in Tianjin City. The police
officers kept a close watch on him. Zhu was called “the last one in the prison” since he not only refused to
be brainwashed and transformed, but also wrote appeal letters every month.
The police officers told him that as long as he wrote one of the “four statements” (guarantee statement,
repentance statement, separation statement, exposure and criticizing statement), he would be released. But
Zhu stuck with his belief and never compromised. Also, the prison authorities never sent the appeal letters
written by Zhu to their designated offices.
Starting in August 2001, Falun Gong practitioners in Hong Kong and America made many efforts to call
for the release of Chu O-ming, who is a Hong Kong resident. Overseas media such as the Associated
Press, BBC, Agence France Presse, Apple Daily and so on, have reported on this story.
2. The Lawsuit Jiang Dreaded the Most
The lawsuit Jiang dreaded the most was the one filed in the United States in Chicago in October 2002.
In mainland China, Jiang monopolized the power of the Communist Party, the government and the
military, leaving the average Chinese citizen helpless against him. After Chu O-ming and Wang Jie were
horribly persecuted for filing suit against Jiang, people overseas sought to sue Jiang using courts around
the world.
Why is it possible to sue Jiang in America?
Jiang always enjoyed making a show in Western society so as to give a progressive image. His character
on the outside appears to be strong but on the inside it is weak. He often ignores his own people’s
opinions, but he cares a great deal about the attitude of the international community. Although he
suppressed Falun Gong wantonly inside China, overseas he flatly denied the existence of any persecution.
When the eyes of the international community began focusing on the persecution, Jiang quickly changed
the persecution to become extremely covert and did it under the pretence of law. While Falun Gong
practitioners manage to effectively expose the facts of the persecution internationally by legal means and
allow the international community to understand the essence of the persecution, Jiang and his henchmen
are extremely frightened.
Jiang’s urgent desire to smear and suppress Falun Gong overseas can be seen from a story published
in The Washington Post on March 9, 2001. [2] It was reported that a while ago three senior Chinese
diplomats visited Washington. They were stationed in America. They were former Deputy Minister of
Foreign Affairs Zhu Qizhen, former Ambassador stationed in America and in the United Nations Li
Daoyu, as well as the former Ambassador stationed in Canada Zhang Wenpu. The national security
advisors at the White House thought the three former diplomats would talk about America’s arms sales to
Taiwan, the resolution at the time condemning China’s human rights record that America was to raise at
the UN Commission on Human Rights, and the U.S. National Missile Defense System, among others.
The U.S. National Security Advisor Condoleezza Rice also prepared to exchange opinions on these issues
with the three men. However, unexpectedly, when both sides initially sat down, one of the former
Ambassadors took out a draft written beforehand and began to read it. The content was about the Chinese
government’s denouncement of Falun Gong. The draft took about 20 minutes to read. According to the
article in the Post, Rice was quite annoyed by the Beijing officials preaching. After the official finished
reading, Rice hurriedly ended the meeting and left angrily.
Democracy and freedom are the foundation of America. Puritans came to America centuries ago to avoid
religious persecution and pursue freedom of belief. So Americans value religious freedom and human
rights greatly. America’s founding fathers, such as Madison, Jefferson et al., wrote a massive body of
work expounding on the idea that people should relish religious freedom and other inalienable rights. In
1789, when America started to construct the federal judicial system, the Congressional House and Senate
passed the Alien Tort Claims Act, which allows American attorneys to seek redress for illegal actions
committed overseas by non-Americans. In 1992, the House and Senate passed by a unanimous vote the
Torture Victims’ Protection Act, which permits American courts to consider genocide, crimes of torture
and other crimes against humanity. No matter whether the criminals or crimes are in America, the
criminals may become defendants as long as they step foot on America’s land. For example, after former
Philipino dictator Ferdinand Marcos fled to Hawaii, the federal Grand Jury in the U.S. issued an
indictment in Manhattan, New York, on Oct. 21, 1988, and accused Marcos and his wife of fraud. Other
democratic countries also have similar laws.
The Crime of Genocide
Jiang’s persecution of Falun Gong completely violates Chinese law, and also violates the international
conventions. The United Nations General Assembly passed the Convention on the Prevention and
Punishment of the Crime of Genocide in 1948, in which it says genocide means any acts committed with
intent to destroy, in whole or in part, a national, ethnical, racial or religious group, that persons
committing genocide shall be punished, whether they are constitutionally responsible rulers, public
officials or private individuals, and that nobody can enjoy immunity. Also the “principle of universal
jurisdiction,” which provides national courts with the ability to investigate and prosecute a person
suspected of genocide in the world regardless of the nationality of the accused or the victim or the
location of the crime, applies to crimes of genocide.
Therefore, the lawsuits against Jiang possess sufficient legal grounds. The two American Acts provide the
Falun Gong with the legal basis to sue Jiang in America. In October 2002, during the period of Jiang’s
visit to Chicago, Falun Gong successfully completed the procedure of delivering a subpoena to Jiang and
filed a lawsuit against Jiang in an American court.
The Law’s Power to Intimidate
The lawsuit filed against Jiang in Chicago was a milestone case. In the course of presenting the case to
various levels of American courts, the whole world was able to learn that Jiang has carried out genocide
and torture against the Falun Gong.
In addition, the lawsuit started a chain reaction of suing Jiang globally. The lawsuits against Jiang were
filed one after another across the world. Altogether more than 30 attorneys from various countries sued
Jiang. It is unprecedented, in the history of the world and law, for so many attorneys to sue the same
person jointly.
The lawsuit also created a huge impact in China. The officials who were involved in the persecution of
Falun Gong at various departments and agencies had to stop and seriously ponder what they were doing.
They knew that whoever had a hand in the persecution would one day suffer the same fate of being sued.
The lawsuit served the interests of both America and China. For one, the Declaration of
Independence guarantees that everyone in the U.S. enjoys the right to freedom of belief, exemption from
torture and slavery and exemption from crimes against humanity. So to timely stop the crimes of genocide
and torture committed by Jiang is in line with America’s founding principles. Secondly, the lawsuit
defends Chinese people’s birthrights, and accords with their interests.
China certainly does not equate to the Chinese Communist Party. Confused by the CCP’s propaganda,
many Chinese people do not understand this and forget the China that has formidable spiritual, cultural
and moral roots. True Chinese people would not come up with the Cultural Revolution, Tiananmen
massacre, and suppression of Falun Gong. In this sense, the lawsuit was consistent with China’s spirit.
Another Battle
Besides the battle over the lawsuit during Jiang’s three-day visit to Chicago, there was another type of
battle.
Before Jiang arrived in Chicago in October 2002, Alderman Preckwinkle of the 4th Ward in Chicago
proposed a resolution supporting Falun Gong in the City Council. The resolution strongly condemned the
suppression of Falun Gong followers, and requested the American government to investigate allegations
of illegal activities in the United States by the Government of the People’s Republic of China and its
diplomats, including allegations of unlawful harassment of United States citizens and residents who
practice Falun Gong, and of officials of State and Local governments in the United States who support
Falun Gong, and bring those responsible to justice or even deport them. Afterwards, the Human Relations
Committee of the City of Chicago held a public hearing. They passed the resolution unanimously and
forwarded to the City Council. At 10 a.m. on Nov. 6, 2002, Daley, the Mayor of the City of Chicago, and
all of the City Council members gathered together at the council chambers in the City Hall of Chicago.
After the resolution to support Falun Gong was read, it was passed unanimously. [3]
The resolution passed during the period of time while Jiang was visiting. The aftereffects would be farreaching. However, another battle had just begun.
One day in the summer of 2003, an old man was sitting meditating in front of the Chinese Consulate in
Chicago. A taxi stopped before him. A person got out of the taxi, placed a letter before the old man, and
then left. The old man couldn’t read English. At night, his friends, who were able to read English,
discovered that Xu Jinzhong, the new Chinese General Consul in Chicago, addressed this letter to the
Illinois State lawmakers. It requested state lawmakers not to support the lawsuit filed in Chicago. Local
legislators sympathized with Falun Gong’s bitter experience in China, and knew that Falun Gong
followers did exercises outside the Consulate every day. Thus, the fiery letter to the state lawmakers from
the Chinese Consulate would later serve as evidence for the lawsuit.
On June 10, 2003, 38 members of Congress submitted an Amicus Curiae (“friend of the court”) statement
to support the lawsuit against Jiang, expressing a different viewpoint than the one proposed by the Justice
Department, which wished to terminate the lawsuit. Touching on the question of whether the defendant
could be granted immunity as a head of state, the document stressed that the basic principle to establish
immunity for heads of state is that an appeal for immunity should not be granted through diplomatic
means under the pretense of strong political pressure, but should rather be determined through courts
based on legal standards.
The lawsuit shocked the Chinese leadership. The CCP disclosed through diplomatic channels to the
United States and other countries that “Jiang Zemin is willing to pay any price to prevent this case from
being prosecuted,” [4] and asked the U.S. to terminate the lawsuit, citing immunity for heads of state.
Some government officials revealed that the main Chinese diplomat who handled this was extremely
nervous when he conveyed the CCP’s viewpoint on the lawsuit against Jiang. The diplomat was so afraid
to make any mistakes that he pulled out the official document and read the CCP’s viewpoint word for
word. An official from Chinese Embassy disclosed in private that the Embassy was requested to report all
the international reports on the lawsuit and all materials on the opening of the trial to Beijing immediately
since the Standing Committee Members of the Politburo needed to read them right away.
3. The Largest International Human Rights Legal Effort Since World War II
Although Jiang was willing to pay any price to stop the lawsuits against him, more and more lawsuits
began popping up around the world. As of June 2005, 15 lawsuits against Jiang were filed. If lawsuits
against Jiang’s cohorts are counted, at least 47 lawsuits were filed, making this the largest international
human rights legal effort since World War II.
These lawsuits gained support from many of the most renowned human rights attorneys and scholars in
the world.
In Germany, an eminent attorney specializing in criminal law, Wolfgang Kaleck, who once sued the
former dictator of Argentina, helped Falun Gong in November 2003 to formally accuse Jiang, the former
president of China, of genocide, crimes against humanity, and torture committed during the suppression
of Falun Gong.
In Belgium, the internationally-renowned human rights attorney Georges Henri Beauthier filed criminal
prosecution against Jiang on behalf of Falun Gong followers. He had become world famous for accusing
former Chilean dictator Augusto Pinochet.
In Australia, artist Ms. Zhang Cuiying’s plan of suing Jiang gained assistance from Geoffrey Robertson,
the prominent human rights attorney and president of the Special Court for Sierra Leone.
Harvard Law School professor Alan Dershowitz, who once provided advice for the codification of the
Chinese criminal law, believed Jiang shouldn’t enjoy immunity as head of state. He indicated that if a
head of state had issued a personal order to take actions of genocide and had control over the situation, he
couldn’t evade judicature simply for his head of state status. Dershowitz analogized, saying that we all of
course know that the former Yugoslavian dictator Milosevic is still on trial at the International Court of
Justice in the Hague, and Milosevic was a head of state. If Hitler were alive, he would have likewise been
charged as a head of state at Nuremberg. [5]
American human rights attorney Morton Sklar said, “The torture and genocide crimes committed by Jiang
not only violate American law and basic international law, but also Chinese law. The lawsuits against
Jiang thus aim at his personal criminality. It can be regarded as part of the international human rights
movement. The meaning of the lawsuits lies in that they establish a foundation of global scope, namely,
that any official committing serious human rights crimes, such as torture or genocide, must bear criminal
and civil liability.” [6]
4. An Attorney Drawn to Socrates
The group of attorneys dedicated to bringing Jiang to justice includes a variety of specialists. What
brought these attorneys together? There are many rarely known stories behind their uniting. Here we will
only cite one example.
Terri Marsh, the attorney in the Chicago lawsuit against Jiang, has earned a number of degrees. Her
dissertation was on Socrates. Her training included the study of Greek and Latin, and extended even to
include Pali.
After earning her Ph.D., Terri taught at the University of California, San Diego, mainly teaching
comparative literature and classics. The courses she taught were on Socrates, St. Augustine, Homer, and
ancient Greek women. At the time she lived only two minutes away from the sea. Her life was
comfortable, relaxing and carefree.
However, Terri seemed not to be satisfied. She began studying law and politics. After hesitating for
several years, she was drawn to law, but had not quite decided whether to continue to be a professor or to
go to law school.
On June 4, 1989, she watched on TV the young students in China being run over by tanks and shot by
soldiers on Changan Street (Tiananmen Square). Tears came to her eyes and she thought to herself,
“What can a teacher do when students are being killed?” She had hoped that one day she could help and
protect those innocent people. On that very day, she made up her mind to go to law school. She accepted
an offer of admission to law school and started her new life’s journey.
Terri craved knowledge about Socrates because she felt deeply drawn to Socrates’ wisdom. In ancient
Greece, to be a good man (“agathos”) meant that one had a high social status. Those who defeated the
greatest number of enemies were considered the best people. The concepts of morals and obtaining power
were totally mixed up. The people with the most power were considered to be the best people. The Greek
people could not simply cultivate and develop the notion of good ethics since that was something treated
as only belonging to the weak and women. The lifetime contribution of Socrates was teaching people the
difference between morals and reputation, social status, wealth and the ability to dominate. In Socrates’
teachings he said that human beings have a natural disposition and divine characteristics, and those things
make up a person’s true being. If we remained faithful to our true selves, he said, then we can become
better human beings.
In Western academic circles, Socrates is considered to be the father of ethics and philosophy. His concept
of ethics was not based on status, rank, wealth, or reputation, but rather on achieving moral transcendence
through understanding of self (or through finding one’s own shortcomings), and by finding one’s own
true nature. He taught by the method of asking and answering questions, which was dubbed “the Socratic
Method” by later generations. Socrates was poor and his appearance was common. He did not have
magnificent attire, but possessed superb wisdom.
Though common Greek people widely accepted Socrates’ teachings, the upper echelon of society in
Athens started to fear and envy him. Finally, Socrates was officially charged with poisoning Athens’
young people by publicizing heresy and propagandizing Gods different from what Athens worshiped.
Afterwards he was convicted and forced to commit suicide by drinking poison.
In his conversation with his student, Plato, in Socrates’ Defense, Socrates responded to all accusations
against him, saying that if the men agreed to let him off on the condition that he no longer teach others, he
would respond, “Men of Athens, I honor and love you; but I shall obey God rather than you, and while I
have life and strength I shall never cease from the practice and teaching of philosophy, exhorting anyone
whom I meet after my manner, and convincing him, saying: O my friend, why do you who are a citizen of
the great and mighty and wise city of Athens, care so much about laying up the greatest amount of money
and honor and reputation, and so little about wisdom and truth and the greatest improvement of the soul,
which you never regard or heed at all? Are you not ashamed of this?” “… either acquit me or not; but
whatever you do, know that I shall never alter my ways, not even if I have to die many times.” [7]
When Terri read an essay, titled “Some Thoughts of Mine,” by Mr. Li Hongzhi, founder of Falun Gong,
her tears welled up and she thought, “My goodness! It’s as if the same person wrote these two articles.
They’re so similar. Why does history have to repeat itself this way? Why don’t people accept historical
lessons?” In order to prevent Socrates’ tragedy from repeating, Dr. Marsh decided to sue Jiang on behalf
of Falun Gong.
5. A Civil Organization With Amazing Courage: The Global Coalition to Bring Jiang to Justice
In addition to the above, a group of regular folks launched an effort to “try” Jiang in a philosophical
sense. People rallied in public places to perform mock trials of Jiang.
On Sept. 30, 2003, the Global Coalition to Bring Jiang to Justice, which is a jointly initiated and
sponsored organization by more than 80 groups and individuals from Europe, the Americas, Asia, and
Australia, held a press conference to announce its establishment. The coalition’s objective is to mobilize
all forces of justice and expose Jiang’s crimes against humanity by taking him to the court of conscience
and court of morality, as well as courts of law. Calling on the public to “try” such a major dictator in the
court of morality took an enormous amount of courage. The establishment of the coalition signified that
the effort to put Jiang on trial entered a new stage.
One commentator on the Internet wrote: “People’s hearts are the genuine court and the fairest judge, and
the strongest fortress guarding social justice. The trial in people’s heart of hearts is the most thorough
one.” Jiang never expected to encounter such a large-scale moral trial by people’s innermost feelings
before he left office. Hardly any other dictators have ever experienced something similar. Jiang hated it,
but could do nothing about it.
6. The World Organization to Investigate the Persecution of Falun Gong Is Established
In January 2003, an international human rights organization called the World Organization to Investigate
the Persecution of Falun Gong (WOIPFG) was established in the United States. The organization set up
branches in North America, Europe, Asia and Australia. The organization devotes itself to investigate all
individuals and organizations possibly involved in persecuting Falun Gong and collects evidence about
the persecution both inside and outside of China. It also coordinates closely with each local government
and related international agencies. Its hope is to set up a “Special International Tribunal to Process the
Cases of Persecution against Falun Gong by the CCP” and to carry out a comprehensive and historic trial
of the criminals responsible for launching and participating in what might be called the most serious and
widespread program of persecution in history.
The spokesman for the WOIPFG indicated that they would work with international organs of justice to
investigate—broadly, thoroughly, and systematically—all instances of criminal conduct on the part of
individuals, institutions, and organizations involved in the suppression of Falun Gong. Since its
establishment, WOIPFG has released many investigational reports.
7. CCP Senior Officials Found Guilty
Besides Jiang, his followers were also sued in other countries. Among them many were sued on their
visits overseas with the CCP’s delegations. However, to set the record straight only perpetrators of human
rights violations were sued. Other innocent members or those who did not actively get involved in the
persecution were not targeted.
After the year 2000, local American courts began handing down judgments in favor of Falun Gong one
after another.
The First CCP Official Who Was Sued and Found Guilty: Zhao Zhifei
Zhao Zhifei, Deputy Director of Hubei Province Police Department and Deputy Director of the Hubei
Province 6-10 Office, was the first CCP official who was sued. The 6-10 Office is the agency specifically
in charge of suppressing Falun Gong.
When visiting the U.S. in July 2001, Zhao Zhifei received a subpoena and indictment at his hotel in
Manhattan. He was accused of persecuting Falun Gong adherents in Hubei Province through murder,
torture, crimes against humanity and other crimes violating international human rights conventions. He
asked two questions when he received the indictment. The first question was, “What is this?” After the
process server explained to him what it was, his second question was, “Can I still leave America?”
Obviously he was quite nervous and fearful. After obtaining the answer “yes,” Zhao Zhifei was no longer
in the mood for sightseeing. He cut his trip short by returning to China the very next day. He has never
stepped foot in America again.
On Dec. 21, 2001, the judge of the Federal Court of New York leveled a default judgment against Zhao
Zhifei, determining that Zhao Zhifei had killed Falun Gong practitioners by mistreatment, had violated
American federal law under the Torture Victims Protection Act, and that the charge was tenable.
Liu Qi, Mayor of Beijing, and Xia Deren, Deputy Governor of Liaoning Province, are Found Guilty
On Feb. 7, 2002, Liu Qi, Mayor of Beijing and President of the Beijing Organizing Committee for the
Games of the XXIX Olympiad (BOCOG), was indicted through the U.S. District Court in San Francisco
when he was attending the Olympic Winter Games in Salt Lake City. The indictment accused Liu Qi of
allowing police officers in Beijing to implement a systematic persecution of Falun Gong followers. Six
followers who were seriously beaten and tortured in Beijing sued Liu Qi. He was charged with crimes of
torture; other cruel, inhuman, or degrading treatment; arbitrary detention; crimes against humanity; and
interference in the expression of freedom of belief. Another defendant was Xia Deren, Deputy Governor
of Liaoning Province.
On June 11, 2003, Edward Chen, a judge in San Francisco, ruled that Liu Qi and Xia Deren were guilty as
charged and not entitled to immunity granted to diplomats.
The ruling report was sent to a higher level local judge for examination and approval. After one-year of
review, Wilkin, a judge from the federal court in San Francisco, concurred on Dec. 8, 2004. He declared
Liu Qi guilty and stated that he bore responsibility for torture and crimes against humanity in suppressing
Falun Gong, crimes which were committed by the police officers under his direction. [8] The decision
affirmed the principle that U.S. law will punish any incumbent official, regardless of rank, if he commits
crimes against humanity.
The First CCP Diplomat who Lost a Falun Gong Lawsuit and Absconded: Pan Xinchun
In order to carry out Jiang’s persecution policies overseas, Pan Xinchun, the Deputy Consul General in
Toronto, had a letter published in a local English newspaper attacking Joel Chipkar, a businessman and
Falun Gong’s volunteer spokesman in Toronto.
In August 2003, Joel Chipkar filed a lawsuit with the Ontario Superior Court, accusing Pan Xinchun of
committing libel. Chipkar indicated that Pan’s article used phrases such as “hidden purpose,” “ulterior
motives,” “sinister cult” and so on, which are typical words used by the Chinese authorities to smear
Falun Gong. Chipkar said, “The Chinese official’s behavior of inciting hatred is a mockery of Canadian
values, and a mockery of the rights bestowed upon on us by the charter.”
Pan Xinchun, now accused of libel, naively thought that consuls in the Chinese Embassy were entitled to
immunity no matter what they did. He therefore refused to accept legal papers several times, and was later
found guilty by default as a result.
On Feb. 3, 2004, Pan Xinchun was declared guilty by the Ontario Superior Court, and ordered to pay
1,000 Canadian dollars symbolic fine and 10,000 Canadian dollars for the plaintiff’s legal fees. Chipkar
asked for only the 1,000 dollar indemnity since he wanted to indicate explicitly that he sued Pan Xinchun
as a matter of principle rather than for money.
In order to extend the persecution of Falun Gong around the world, Jiang instilled a misconception in the
staff of Chinese embassies and consulates, which was something to the effect of, “All consuls of China
are entitled to immunity no matter what they do.” However, the conviction of Pan Xinchun on Feb. 3
became powerful evidence to the contrary.
On July 14, 2004, since Pan Xinchun refused to pay the fine, the Ontario Superior Court issued a
garnishment against Pan Xinchun’s personal assets in the Bank of China, which has branches in Canada.
On Nov. 16, 2004, the court subpoenaed Pan and conducted an asset audit, requesting him to explain his
asset status and give the reason for ignoring the court’s order. The court also requested him to take an
oath in the court. However, Pan didn’t appear in the court that day. Later, officials from the Canadian
Ministry of Foreign Affairs confirmed that Pan had fled Canada and was hiding in China.
Joel Chipkar submitted an official request on Nov. 16, 2004, through his lawyer to Mr. Pierre Pettigrew,
the Minister of Foreign Affairs, in which he asked that Pan Xinchun be declared a persona non grata.
Pan Xinchun in effect ruined his career by executing Jiang’s orders blindly to defame Falun Gong.
This was the first case in the world where a Chinese diplomat was sued in the name of Falun Gong
practitioners and it was also the first case where a Chinese diplomat was declared guilty by a Western
court of inciting hatred against Falun Gong.
Luo Gan Faces a Series of Prosecutions
As secretary of the CCP’s Political and Judiciary Committee, head of the 6-10 Office, and a member of
the Standing Committee of the Politburo, Luo Gan went to great lengths to carry out Jiang’s policies
against Falun Gong.
Luo Gan had attempted to incite the persecution of Falun Gong even before 1999. He staged the supposed
“self-immolation” incident in Tiananmen Square to mislead Chinese people who were unaware of the
facts during the time Jiang was still able to sustain the crackdown. Wherever Luo Gan went, the
persecution would escalate. The death of Gao Rongrong, which has recently been widely spread on the
Internet, is directly related to Luo Gan. Gao Rongrong, a former staff member in the finance department
of Luxun Academy of Fine Arts in Shenyang City, Liaoning Province, was subjected to electric shock
torture for 6 to 7 hours successively in Longshan Forced Labor Camp and her face was disfigured as a
result. Gao Rongrong was later released from custody by the help of sympathizers, but Luo Gan
personally issued an order to get her back and punish her. Gao Rongrong, who was extremely weak at the
time, was abducted again and taken to the notorious Masanjia Forced Labor Camp. On June 16, 2005,
after experiencing all manner of persecution, she passed away at the age of 37.
From August 2003 to April 2005, Luo Gan was charged overseas with genocide and torture 14 times. He
was sued in Belgium, Finland, Armenia, Moldova, Iceland, Spain, Taiwan, Germany, Korea, Canada,
Chile, Bolivia, Peru and Japan.
Since Sept. 7, 2003, Luo Gan visited four European and Asian countries: Iceland, Finland, Armenia and
Moldova. During this period, he was sued at each leg of the trip, which set a record—he was sued in
every country he visited, becoming the CCP official who encountered the most prosecutions during an
overseas trip. Also, besides Jiang, he encountered the most prosecutions overseas in general of any CCP
official.
Luo Gan’s role as the 6-10 Office ringleader and his despicable human rights record have made people
compare him with a leader of the Gestapo. In Europe, a place that has experienced two world wars, the
people by nature despise this kind of person. One can only imagine how bad Luo Gan’s reputation
overseas is.
The day before Luo Gan’s arrival in Finland, on the front page and on the international news page of
the Capital Daily was an article on Luo Gan’s visit to Finland and an article on Falun Gong accusing
senior Chinese officials of genocide. The Finnish people made clear, via media and various publications,
to the Chinese visitor with a horrible human rights record that he was “unwelcome.” Also, the Ministry of
Justice and the Ministry of Foreign Affairs in Finland explained successively that Luo Gan only came to
celebrate in Finland’s festival, and did not come to visit Finland upon invitation. They did not want to
associate with that type of person.
The people in Iceland publicly protested through the media before Luo Gan’s visit. They asked, “Why
was such a terrible violator of human rights invited to Europe?” But the Icelandic officials indicated that
it was Luo Gan who requested an invitation and the Icelandic government was caught off guard. Gudrun
Erlendsdottir, President of the Icelandic Supreme Court even commented on TV, “He (Luo Gan)
personally requested to meet with President of the High Court. But I was unaware of why he wanted to
talk to me and what he would talk about.” After his unsavory background was exposed, Luo Gan boiled
with rage.
Put simply, nobody thinks highly of a person who has no integrity. Even in the small country of Moldova,
a local well-known newspaper published a lengthy article, titled “Moldova’s President Welcomes a
Friend Who Committed Genocide.” [9]
The First Senior CCP Official Forced to Appear in Court: Chen Zhili
Chen Zhili, the former Minister of Education and currently a member of the State Council, as well as a
fervent follower of Jiang, was served with a lawsuit by a team of international human rights lawyers on
July 19, 2004, during a visit to Tanzania. She was charged with torturing and killing Falun Gong
followers and with maltreatment within the Chinese educational system, and had to make a mandatory
court appearance on that day. In contrast to other Chinese officials who received subpoenas while
overseas but quickly fled their visiting country and returned to China, Chen Zhili was the first highlyranked visiting Chinese state official who could not find any excuse to escape and had to appear in front
of a foreign court.
Chen Zhili held the post of Minister of Education from 1998 to 2003, and is currently a member of the
State Council who is in charge of culture and education. By using her special relationship with Jiang and
her privileges, she was able to carry out Jiang’s persecution policy by force within the educational
system, which resulted in savage persecution of the Falun Gong. She took advantage of her post to instill
in the minds of students the notion that hatred for and persecution of Falun Gong is justified. She is
personally responsible for the arrest of large numbers of students, teachers and staff who practice Falun
Gong. At least 61 of such persons arrested died as a result of torture.
On Dec. 7, 2004, a Tanzanian court held a preliminary judicial review of the charges of torture and killing
brought against Chen Zhili. One source claimed that the evidence provided by the victims was sufficient
to prove the charges leveled against Chen Zhili valid.
Provincial Party Secretary Who Was Wanted by the Police and Who Absconded Across the Border
Illegally: Su Rong
Su Rong, incumbent Party Secretary of Gansu Province, used to be the Party Deputy Secretary of Jilin
Province. During his tenure in Jilin Province, he was the head of the Jilin Province Leadership Group
Dealing with Falun Gong Issues, a.k.a. the 6-10 Office. Charged with the responsibility of handling the
Falun Gong issue since the beginning of the persecution, he actively supported the brainwashing of Falun
Gong adherents, and other means of punishment, such as dismissing them from the Party and public
positions.
Su Rong was served with a summons delivered by a staff member of the Zambia High Court on the
afternoon of Nov. 4, 2004. He was on his way back to his hotel while visiting Zambia with a Chinese
delegation led by Wu Bangguo. Falun Gong had filed a lawsuit against Su for murder, torture and
humiliation of Falun Gong practitioners during his tenure as the Head of the Jilin Provincial 6-10 Office.
Su was forced to stay put in Lusaka as he waited to appear in court.
On Nov. 8, 2004, Su Rong was charged with contempt of court because he failed to appear in court as
ordered. On Nov. 13, 2004, the Zambia High Court held a special hearing on Su Rong’s case, but he
failed to appear again. Thus, the Zambia police issued an arrest warrant and dispatched personnel to
conduct a manhunt. After an extensive and prolonged search, police found Su’s clothing and personal
belongings at his hiding place, the Chinese Center for the Promotion of Investment, Development and
Trade (Z) LTD, but he was nowhere to be found. According to the Hotel records where he lodged, Su
Rong checked out on Nov. 8, at 2 p.m., and disappeared from the scene.
It was reported that, faced with an arrest warrant, Su Rong crossed the Chirundu border in Zambia, and
hid in Zimbabwe. He then escaped to South Africa and flew back to China on Monday evening, Nov. 15,
2004. According to reliable sources, Su Rong indicated that after this trip, he would not be easily
persuaded to travel overseas again. Falun Gong followers expressed that they would not give up on
bringing the criminal provincial official to justice. They say they will file a lawsuit with the International
Court of Justice in the Hague.
The Current Leader in Charge of Suppressing Falun Gong: Liu Jing
Liu Jing is the incumbent Deputy Minister of Public Security and Deputy Director of the 6-10 Office
whose sole duty is to persecute Falun Gong. With the escalation of the violent suppression of the group,
on the Internet “Liu Jing” has become synonymous with violence and butchery.
The connection between Liu Jing and Jiang Zemin may trace back to the early nineties. At that time Liu
held the post of Kunming Mayor, and Zeng Qinghong asked him to talk to Deng Pufang to have him help
overthrow Yang Shangkun’s family. Liu had dealings with Deng Pufang (Deng Xiaoping’s son) when
Liu was a member of the China Disabled Persons’ Executive Council. Therefore, Liu Jing played a major
role in Jiang’s efforts to overthrow Yang Shangkun and Yang Baibing. This special relationship may
explain why Liu Jing was given the position of Deputy Director of the (Central) 6-10 Office and Deputy
Minister of Public Security. It also may explain why he has remained a faithful perpetrator of Jiang’s
persecution policy.
Whoever knows about Liu Jing’s past record will understand how ruthless he is. At the beginning of the
Cultural Revolution in 1966, he was a student in Department III of Beijing University of Technology.
Since he was from a senior official’s family, he was admitted into the CCP very early by the University
Party Committee. Like his classmate in the same department, Tan Lifu, who was also a child of a senior
official, he was obsessed with ambition in politics. In June 1966, Liu Shaoqi and Deng Xiaoping
dispatched a task force squad, led by Du Wanrong, to Beijing University of Technology to implement the
policies of the Cultural Revolution. Liu Jing realized immediately that this was an opportunity for him to
make rapid advancement in his career in politics. He organized a group of senior officials’ children to get
rid of the old Party Committee, which initially helped get him into the CCP, and labeled them a
“reactionary gang” and brazenly censured them for “discriminating against and persecuting cadres’
children.” Coached by the team of workers, Liu Jing became the director of the “Cultural Revolution
Committee” at the University, while Tan Lifu became the commander of the Red Guard. They both
turned into people with a tremendous amount of arrogance. They fought with the “reactionary gang,” beat
professors, and collected information on students and teachers who opposed the team of workers, and
then classified them as Rightists. In brief, where there was persecution and violence, there were Liu and
Tan as coordinators. According to incomplete statistics, around 300 teachers and students were classified
as “reactionary gang” members or Rightists by the Cultural Revolution Committee that was led by Liu
Jing.
In his tenure as Deputy Director of the 6-10 Office, Liu Jing directly made popular and carried out Jiang
and Luo Gan’s persecution orders, including issuing the order of shoot to kill, massive arrests and killings
of Falun Gong followers, and promoting and directing the brainwashing of Falun Gong followers. In
addition, he spoke dishonest words at various human rights conferences and press conferences in order to
smear Falun Gong, and glorified and praised the suppression of the group. Since he persecuted Falun
Gong so aggressively, after the 16th Party Congress in November 2002, Liu Jing not only became
Director of the 6-10 Office, Deputy Minister of Public Security, and Deputy CCP Secretary of the
Ministry of Public Security, but also got promoted to the 16th Central Committee.
In March 2004 and November 2004, Liu Jing was charged in Canada with genocide, torture, and crimes
against humanity via both civil and criminal lawsuits.
The Prosecuted Minister of Public Security: Zhou Yongkang
On the afternoon of Aug. 27, 2001, while he was visiting the U.S., Zhou Yongkang, former Party
Secretary of Sichuan Province, incumbent Minister of Public Security, and self-proclaimed nephew of
Jiang’s wife, was sued in the state of Illinois for his involvement in directing the torture and murder of
Falun Gong practitioners and for defaming Falun Gong. He was the second CCP official who was sued
overseas by Falun Gong practitioners. It was reported that the District Court for the Northern District of
Illinois decided to accept the case.
Zhou’s tenure in Sichuan Province coincided with Jiang’s persecution of Falun Gong. He did everything
he could to promote and directly participate in the persecution. He authorized, supervised, and endorsed
such methods as murder, torture and kidnapping in order to intimidate and eliminate Falun Gong
adherents in his jurisdiction. He also carried out a disturbing policy of implication, saying, “If parents
practice, lay off the children from their jobs; if children practice, do the same to their parents. Stop their
pension payments and cut off their financial resources.” Forty-three confirmed death cases of Falun Gong
followers (not including unexposed and unconfirmed cases) occurred in Sichuan Province during his
tenure.
Zhou Yongkang adopted a heavy-handed policy when he was a local official in Sichuan Province. The
Sichuan people hated him and called him the “human rights assassin” behind his back. Besides
persecuting Falun Gong and Tibetans in Tibetan communities, Zhou Yongkang also suppressed the media
and persecuted reporters.
Zhou Yongkang stipulated that the media must increase his exposure rate. According to his instructions, a
huge photo of him was to be published on the front page of Chengdu Economic Daily on July 1, 2001.
After that, prompted by his subordinates, Zhou Yongkang hastened to instruct Chengdu Economic
Daily to publish a huge photo of Jiang the next day. However, since the size of the two photos were
exactly the same, and since Jiang’s photo was published on July 2, and Zhou Yongkang’s photo was
published on July 1, the entire province gossiped about this for quite some time.
At the same time, Zhou Yongkang’s actions flew in the face of the constitution and the law, as he went
outside his area of knowledge by appointing judges and giving major talks in the National People’s
Congress and Political Consultative Conference. [When he spoke,] everyone was instructed to be docile
and obedient, listen with reverent attention, and not daydream or even display the slightest hint of
weariness.
He insulted senior cadres wantonly at cadre meetings, and frequently boasted that he was “dispatched by
the Central government,” and “the right-hand man of president Jiang.” He also seduced internal female
staffers many times in business hotels. When the Provincial People’s Congress was in session, Zhou
Yongkang stayed in a hotel and openly summoned prostitutes, making the Provincial Party Committee
and hotel staff feel indignant, but they didn’t dare speak up.
Jiang Zemin replaced the Director of the Shanghai City Police Department with his nephew Wu Zhiming,
who used to be a worker on the railroad. Jia Chunwang, on the other hand—the Minister of Public
Security—was not part of Jiang’s clique. So when a Tibetan religious leader with the title of the Living
Buddha of Garmaba escaped from China, Jiang pretended to be furious and rebuked Jia Chunwang for it.
Claiming that if one more person, e.g., Bao Tong (Zhao Ziyang’s secretary), escaped, he would dismiss
Jia Chunwang. The next day, Beijing City Police Department dispatched 18 policemen to trace and
monitor Bao Tong 24 hours a day. According to sources within the Chinese political elite, the purpose of
Jiang’s display was to pave the way for promoting Zhou Yongkang to Minister of Public Security.
Jiang liked Zhou Yongkang for his tireless efforts in persecuting Falun Gong. In order to find someone to
continue persecuting Falun Gong after he left office, Jiang promoted Zhou to the posts of Minister of
Public Security (the position directly responsible for persecuting Falun Gong), Deputy Director of the
Central 6-10 Office (the name of this office was later changed to, the “Office of Preventing and Dealing
with Cults”), whose sole duty was to suppress Falun Gong, and Deputy Secretary of the Political and
Judiciary Committee. As a result, Zhou made efforts against Falun Gong even more unscrupulously.
After Zhou Yongkang was promoted to Minister of Public Security in Beijing, the people of Sichuan
Province were saying this like, “The more of a hoodlum one is, the greater possibility one has of being
appointed Minister of Public Security. It seems this country is hopeless.” As expected, Zhou’s working
style was quite different from that of Jia Chunwang. He constructed a “prevention and control system for
public order,” which aimed to suppress, firmly and mercilessly, all groups that were against Jiang.
Afterwards, thanks to Jiang, Zhou Yongkang was admitted to the Politburo during the 16th Party
Congress and promoted to member of the State Council, while concurrently holding the position of
Minister of Public Security.
In November 2004, Canadian Falun Gong adherents filed lawsuits in Canadian courts against five current
and former CCP senior officials—Jiang, Luo Gan, Liu Jing, Zhou Yongkang, and Li Lanqing.
Suing Zeng Qinghong, Jiang’s Top Adviser
In October 2002, a prosecution letter was submitted to the UN Committee against Torture, the
Commission on Human Rights, and the International Criminal Court charging Jiang and Zeng Qinghong,
Minister of the Central Organizational Department, and Luo Gan, Secretary of Political Bureau, with
human rights violations. The letter asserted that they bear unwavering responsibility for launching and
carrying out the suppression of Falun Gong. It also expressed the expectation that the International
Criminal Court would conduct a comprehensive international criminal investigation of the three
defendants. The plaintiffs were from Canada, the United States, France, Australia, Ireland and Hong
Kong.
On Jan. 29, 2005, when Zeng Qinghong was visiting South America, the Peruvian Falun Dafa
Association filed a criminal lawsuit against him, Jiang, Luo Gan and Bo Xilai, charging them with
genocide and crimes against humanity in the persecution of Falun Gong. The Peruvian Supreme Court
accepted the complaint that afternoon.
Zeng Qinghong is Jiang’s adviser, and has sole control over the Central Organizational Department. He
was responsible for carrying out the organizational and logistical aspects of Jiang’s plan to suppress Falun
Gong, as well as the ideological education aspects. According to insiders, Zeng Qinghong gave many
despicable suggestions on how to carry out the persecution.
The First Writ of Inquiry in the History of the European Judicature Against a Senior CCP Official,
Li Lanqing
Li Lanqing was formally accused of torture eight times in France, Belgium, Taiwan, Germany, Canada,
Chile and Holland. The lawsuit in France jarred Li the most, however.
In 1999, Jiang made up his mind to suppress Falun Gong. On June 10 of that year, at Jiang’s order, the
Leadership Group Dealing with Falun Gong Issues was formed, called as a code name the “6-10 Office”
(because of the date it was established). Li, who was First Vice Premier at the time, was drawn by Jiang
into the awful scheme and assumed the position of Director of the 6-10 Office. From 1999 to 2003, Li
Lanqing was in charge of the persecution across China.
The investigative report by the World Organization to Investigate the Persecution of Falun Gong, a
human rights organization, indicated that Li Lanqing personally conducted the persecution in many fields
including science and technology, literature and art, education, senior citizen work and so on. He also
made speeches to incite hatred at nationwide conferences and exhibitions whose purpose was to defame
Falun Gong. On Nov. 26, 1999, he gave a special report, titled “Issues on the Struggle against Falun
Gong,” at a meeting with 3,000 participants held at the Great Hall of the People.
Li Lanqing’s son once studied in Europe. Later he inherited his father’s trade and served at China
National Heavy Duty Truck Group Co., Ltd, where his father once worked. In 1995, the company
cooperated with Sweden in a 4.1 billion yuan project. Under suspicious circumstances, the 4 billion went
down the drain, most likely directly into a few people’s pockets. Among the 4 billion in losses, 1 billion
directly involved Li Lanqing’s son.
Although the parties concerned tried to cover up what happened, as the Chinese saying goes, you can’t
cover up fire with paper. In Jinan City, where the company is located, the story was widely known. At the
time there were many laid-off workers in Shandong Province. People were filled with grievances as it
was. After learning that Li Lanqing’s son was involved in a shady way with this tremendous amount of
money, people were furious.
Wu Guanzheng, Secretary of Shandong Provincial Party Committee, felt the soaring wave of public
opinion. He realized that if he continued to pretend that he didn’t know about this issue, he wouldn’t be
able to keep his position. So he had to make arrangements to investigate. Li Lanqing realized that his son
definitely would not have a good end if Shandong Province really did investigate thoroughly. Since this is
his only son, and he simply couldn’t bear the prospect of his son being struck with any misfortune, he
complained tearfully before Jiang and begged Jiang to come to his aid.
Since Li Lanqing had been a close follower of Jiang, Jiang naturally wouldn’t treat him worse than Jia
Qinglin. Since Jiang exempted Jia Qinglin’s wife from prosecution and give her a way out of her
situation, Jiang felt that Li Lanqing should not have to suffer the pain of “losing his son.” According to
Jiang’s instruction of “don’t treat every case the same way,” it finally ended up that nothing happened to
Li’s son. Thus, Li realized all the more that he didn’t have to worry about any scandals as long as he kept
in line with Jiang.
Toward the end of 2002, as head of the delegation applying for a World Exposition in Shanghai, Li
Lanqing made an unofficial visit to France. On Dec. 4, based on United Nations and French human rights
laws, four Falun Gong practitioners from France, Ireland and Canada accused Li Lanqing of torture
through eminent human rights attorneys Georges-Henri Beauthier and William Bourdon.
Bourdon is an attorney who was involved in successfully suing former Chilean dictator Augusto
Pinochet. Since the time the lawsuit was filed in Nice, France, Li Lanqing has never felt relaxed or
comfortable again. The CCP attempted to stop the case through diplomatic channels, and tried to prevent
it from progressing in the Nice courts. In July 2003, Georges-Henri Beauthier and William Bourdon
transferred the case to Paris, and the Paris Criminal Court agreed to accept it.
In July 2004, the criminal court sent out an investigation request to a Chinese judicial agency, asking the
Chinese authorities to investigate the persecution case of French citizen, Ms. Helene Petit, as well as
those of the other Falun Gong followers. Helene Petit was arrested in Tiananmen Square in November
2001 and was beaten up by Chinese police officers. Theirs is likely the first writ of investigation against a
CCP senior official in the entire judicial history of France, and even Europe.
In December 2004, the court appointed a preliminary hearing judge to the case, which indicated that the
case had moved forward into the stage of discovery.
The French mainstream media reported on the development, claiming it was remarkable that Falun Gong
followers had made so much progress in their fight overseas for human rights. Li Lanqing had closely
followed Jiang, and as a result he was sued overseas. If even Jiang could be sued overseas, what did Li
Lanqing expect?
Jiang’s Trusted Lackey is Sued: Wang Xudong
Wang Xudong, Minister of the Information Industry, was sued while he was participating in the Third
Sino-U.S. Telecommunication Summit in Chicago in June 2004. Wang was sued for persecuting Falun
Gong while acting as secretary of Hebei Provincial Party Committee from June 2000 to November 2002.
The summit was hosted by the American Ministry of Commerce and the American Telecommunication
Industry Association. The people attending the summit were astonished when they found out about the
role Wang Xudong played in the campaign against Falun Gong.
In China, there are five provinces that suppress Falun Gong the most severely. The number of Falun Gong
adherents who were tortured to death in the five provinces accounts for more than half of the total death
cases in China. Hebei Province is one of the five provinces.
On the evening of June 18, in the Hyatt Hotel where Wang Xudong stayed while in Chicago, two
bodyguards employed by Wang received the subpoena.
On the morning of the second day, other members of the delegation began whispering to each other about
the news of Wang Xudong being charged and very quickly the news spread. The lobby of the hotel was
filled with Falun Gong practitioners. They were prepared to once again give the subpoena to Wang
Xudong at any time. The personnel from the Chinese Consulate and procommunist Chinese organizations
ran around and tried to find an exit where there weren’t any Falun Gong practitioners. There was a white
limo that was supposed to pick up Wang but because it was spotted by the protesters it could only be used
for luggage. At a little after 8 a.m., Wang appeared on a bus wearing a large pair of sunglasses, with his
head facing inside. Falun Gong practitioners spotted him and began shouting in unity, “Wang Xudong,
you are sued!” When Wang’s bus arrived at the entrance of a famous telecommunication company in a
northern suburb of Chicago, several Falun Gong followers who had been waiting there for a long time
taped three envelopes, with a complaint letter and a subpoena inside, onto the door panel of the bus.
The next stop after Chicago was Washington, DC. Since this was Wang Xudong’s first visit to the U.S. he
had planned on going sightseeing. However after being sued, he felt dejected and canceled his hotel
reservation in DC. Instead he chose to stay in the Chinese embassy for one night. In a fit of rage, he
ordered that no one in the delegation go outside of the embassy. Complaints could be heard from
everyone. Originally Wang had the hope of becoming Vice Premier. However, after the lawsuit his
official career was over. Who could he blame? If he hadn’t actively participated in the persecution, the
lawsuit would have never fallen upon him. How could someone escape being held accountable after
committing such heinous crimes?
Defendant Wang was very concerned about his lawsuit. An attorney in Chicago sent his assistant to the
two hearings on April 4–5, 2005, and was not even invited to seek additional court information. He went
so far as to call the plaintiff’s attorney, Terri Marsh, and tell her, “It will be very hard for you to win a
lawsuit.” Terri replied by asking, “Do you represent Wang Xudong?” The attorney said, “I will represent
him if he pays me.”
On the morning of May 26, 2005, the U.S. Federal Court in Illinois accepted a motion on the lawsuit filed
against Wang, who is today the Minister of the Department of Information Industry. This was an
important victory for the plaintiffs, who were Falun Gong followers, and it demonstrated that U.S. Courts
care about the persecution of Falun Gong in China. The defendant, Wang, tried to evade receipt of the
legal documents sent by the plaintiff’s attorney. Four times he refused acceptance of FedEx letters. The
plaintiffs tried other methods to transmit the legal documents to him, such as faxes, and even using
flowers. Finally, the Federal Court determined that the efforts of the plaintiff had met the federal
regulations, so the motion was approved.
Bo Xilai, Minister of Commerce, Encounters Formal Accusation Everywhere
On April 24, 2004, Bo Xilai, who just assumed office as Minister of Commerce, was sued when he was
visiting Washington, DC. He, along with a delegation led by Chinese Vice Premier Wu Yi, came to
America to participate in the 15th Session of the Sino-U.S. Joint Commission on Commerce and Trade.
Since he threw the complaint letter and other related documents onto the ground and refused to accept
them after they were delivered to him, he may lose the opportunity of defending himself and he may face
trial by default.
Many media outlets in China flattered Bo Xilai as “the political nova,” “star governor,” “charming
governor” and so on. However, that simply wasn’t true. Bo Xilai is good at currying favor and creating a
nice-looking façade, but it has no substance behind it. In the 1990s, before Jiang went to Dalian City to
inspect state-owned enterprises, Bo Xilai had a large portrait of Jiang put up in a very obvious place in
Dalian City to help Jiang in his pursuit to create a cult of personality. He gained Jiang’s favor as a result.
Bo Xilai was CCP senior statesman Bo Yibo’s son. Bo Yibo had previously helped Jiang purge many
political rivals. Relying on this relationship, Bo Xilai’s political career made steady progress.
Although Bo Xilai appears to be kind and enlightened, that is nothing more than a false appearance. The
real Bo Xilai is cruel and ruthless, and his conduct is dishonorable. Jiang Weiping, a former reporter
from Wen Hui Po located in Hong Kong, published articles exposing Bo Xilai’s behind-the-scenes plot of
corruption. Dalian authorities later convicted Jiang Weiping of “instigating subversion against the State”
and “leaking state secrets.” The Dalian City Procuratorate initially rejected the Dalian City State Security
Bureau’s complaint letter on the grounds of insufficient evidence. However, later the Dalian judicial
authority declared Jiang Weiping guilty, jailed him and subjected him to many different types of torture.
Furthermore, it is known that Bo Xilai often engages in immoral sexual behavior.
When Bo Xilai was the Mayor of Dalian City, he followed Jiang’s persecution policy to the letter, turning
Dalian into one of the most severe places for the persecution of Falun Gong. During his term as Mayor
from 1999 to 2000, at least 15 Falun Gong practitioners were persecuted to death in Dalian City.
According to the investigation done by the World Organization to Investigate the Persecution of Falun
Gong, when Bo Xilai acted as the Governor of Liaoning Province, 103 Falun Gong followers were
persecuted to death in Liaoning Province, proving it to be one of the areas where the persecution was
most severe.
In May 2004, Bo Xilai visited five European countries with a delegation and drew protests from different
human rights organizations. Prior to his trip he had planned to visit Germany around March 25. However,
during that time Germany’s human rights groups and the Falun Gong protested and condemned Bo
Xilai’s human rights violations, and requested the German Government to reject his admission into the
country. Bo Xilai’s extremely grievous human rights record drew widespread concern from German
society. Later, the German Government declared that China had postponed Bo Xilai’s visit.
During Bo Xilai’s travel in May, Bo Xilai’s name did not appear on the name list for attendees of the
Sino-German IT Cooperation Forum, sponsored by the German Ministry of Economy and Labor.
However, Falun Gong practitioners had acquired undisclosed information about his plans to attend, and
decided to display a banner that read, “Welcome to Wen Jiabao, Bring Jiang to Justice, and Expel Human
Rights Criminal Bo Xilai” during a protest rally on the day when the Chinese delegation first arrived. On
the second day, before the opening of the forum, some Falun Gong adherents saw Bo Xilai’s car drive
past the banner before entering the meeting hall of the forum.
In June, Bo Xilai was charged with crimes against humanity when he was visiting Poland. In August, Bo
Xilai was sued in Russia during a visit.
From Nov. 14–21, Bo Xilai, the Minister of Commerce, had been charged with many crimes, including
serious infringement of human rights, while he was attending the Asia Pacific Economic Cooperation
(APEC) conference in Chile.
On Dec. 9, commercial talks between the European Union and China were held in the Netherlands at the
Congress Center in the Hague. Bo Xilai delivered the opening address. Falun Gong practitioners were
doing exercises outside of the building in order to welcome Wen Jiabao, to request the expulsion of
human rights criminal Bo Xilai, and to call for Jiang, Luo Gan, Liu Jing, and Zhou Yongkang to be
brought to justice.
The First Lawsuit Regarding Incitement of Hatred Via Media: Zhao Zhizhen Sued
On July 14, 2004, while Zhao Zhizhen, the former director of Wuhan Radio Broadcast and Television
Bureau and former manager of Wuhan TV Station, was visiting New Haven, Connecticut in the United
States, he received a subpoena for a civil lawsuit from the Federal District Court of New Haven. He had
been sued by a group of Falun Gong adherents in New Haven, who charged him with inciting hatred,
violence, torture, and genocide against Falun followers through television.
The successful filing of the suit against Zhao Zhizhen was due to the effort of The World Organization to
Investigate the Persecution of Falun Gong (WOIPFG), whose tenable objective is: “To investigate the
criminal conduct of all institutions, organizations, and individuals involved in the persecution of Falun
Gong; to bring such investigations, no matter how long it takes, no matter how far and deep we have to
search, to full closure; to exercise fundamental principles of humanity; and to restore and uphold justice
in society.”
By the time Zhao Zhizhen stepped foot outside of China, the WOIPFG had obtained a report, promptly
transmitted the information to the plaintiffs, and chose a suitable opportunity to deliver the court
indictment to the defendant.
It was reported that Zhao Zhizhen appeared in court, becoming the only defendant to personally appear in
court among all the overseas human rights lawsuits related to the suppression of Falun Gong.
Criminals in the Attack Outside the Chinese Consulate Are Caught and Acknowledge Guilt
Jiang transformed the Chinese Embassies and Consulates into bases transporting hatred towards Falun
Gong. He tempted those with little conscience and who sought petty gain, with all kinds of economic
incentives.
In the beginning of September 2001, Falun Gong followers in Chicago started a 10-day hunger strike in
front of the Chinese consulate, to protest the CCP’s murdering of female followers. At approximately
4:40 p.m. on Sept. 7, a brand new black SUV stopped in front of the consulate with three men in it. Two
of the men kept getting in and out of the SUV to physically attack and curse at the Falun Gong who were
on hunger strike. The third man stayed inside the jeep and was ready to drive off at any time.
One of the Falun Gong practitioners who was on hunger strike tried to clarify the current situation of the
persecution to them but they threatened him with violence. Another practitioner took out a camera and
took pictures of what was going on. That person was physically assaulted by both of them. When it was
over, the two thugs ran back to the SUV and drove off quickly. It was reported that there is much more
than meets the eye in this case, and people had a good idea of who was behind it. Furthermore, somebody
reportedly offered a bribe of 15,000 dollars, and it is believed that there are far more than two people
involved in this.
After the incident the Falun Gong adherents sued the two thugs. When Wen Yujun, one of those accused,
came out of the office of the pro-communist newspaper Demoon International at about 1 a.m. on Nov. 5,
2002, he was arrested by police that were waiting for him. Three weeks later, he acknowledged guilt in
the Cook County Criminal Court in Illinois and was sentenced to one and a half years in jail. The other
thug, Zheng Jiming, pleaded guilty in the Cook County Court on Nov. 13, 2002.
During that time, the assault case aroused an enormous amount of commotion in the region. Many of the
Chinese and English media covered the case extensively. The reports said that it is really China’s shame
that such a great country with educated and sensible people had to be reduced to a state where under the
leadership of Jiang, hoodlums and bandits prevail. In addition to the people mentioned above, the
following CCP officials were also sued for following Jiang’s policy of persecution: Wu Guanzheng,
former Secretary of Shandong Provincial Party Committee and incumbent member of the Standing
Committee of the Politburo; Jia Qinglin, former Secretary of the Beijing City Party Committee and
incumbent member of the Standing Committee of the Politburo; Huang Ju, former deputy Premier of the
State Council and incumbent member of the Standing Committee of the Politburo; Li Changchun,
member of the Standing Committee of the Politburo; Sun Jiazheng, Minister of Culture; Wang Yusheng,
Deputy Director of the China Anti-Cult Association; Wang Taihua, Secretary of Anhui Provincial Party
Committee; Wang Maolin, Deputy Chief of the CCP’s Leadership Group Dealing with Falun Gong Issues
or Director of the Central 6-10 Office; Li Bin, CCP Ambassador to Korea; Zhang Xin, Consul General in
Korea, and five other Chinese Consular officials.
The Net of Justice Is Cast Wide—The “Fawanghuihui” Organization
In March 2003, at a meeting in Geneva attended by the Fawanghuihui organization and the UN Human
Rights Commission’s branch on secret surveillance, the United Nations accepted the list of names of
those responsible for persecuting Falun Gong. Fawanghuihui, a persecution-monitoring organization,
submitted two documents related to the Chinese government’s persecution of Falun Gong, which totaled
more than 4,000 pages. The first document lists more than 11,000 “6-10 Office” officials, police officers
and other persons involved in the persecution. It also goes over the details of their crimes. The second list
includes the names of more than 20,000 victims of the persecution as well as their persecution
experiences. According to the Fawanghuihui organization, there are currently more than 10,000 persons
on record that are responsible for the persecution of Falun Gong. When the time is right, the organization
says that it plans on filing lawsuits against each and every one of them. All of these people could face
lawsuits if they travel outside of China.
The Royal Canadian Mounted Police’s List of Parties Responsible for Persecuting Falun Gong
In September 2003, the Canadian Falun Dafa Association submitted a document to Canada’s Crimes
Against Humanity and War Crimes Program (CAHWCP). This file documented evidence of crimes
against Falun Gong that were committed by 15 high-level Chinese officials, including Jiang.
By the end of January 2004, Falun Dafa practitioners in Canada provided the names of another 30
criminals to the CAHWCP. Thus, by the end of January 2004, 45 Chinese officials from each level of the
Party Committees, 6-10 Offices, local governments and forced labor camps that are responsible for the
suppression of Falun Gong were included in the list. If anyone on the list attempts to enter Canada, a
prompt investigation could take place potentially resulting in refusal of a visa to Canada, deportation,
charges and punishment based on Canada’s laws governing crimes against humanity.
The list of names includes the person who initiated the persecution, Jiang Zemin, the names of the
“Leadership Group Dealing With Falun Gong Issues” otherwise known as the 6-10 Office—Li Lanqing,
Luo Gan, Wang Maolin and Liu Jing, as well as Provincial (Liaoning, and Hebei), City (Beijing) level
Party Committee members, and officials in forced labor camps (Masanjia and Wanjia).
The names of those who planned and conducted the persecution include not only officials at each level of
Party Committees and local governments, but also people within the legal system, propaganda system and
forced labor camp system.
The criminal evidence comes from witnesses of the crimes, and adherents in China who have been
courageous enough to send information overseas. Large quantities of direct and indirect evidence have
been collected from third parties such as Amnesty International, United Nations human rights
organizations, Human Rights Watch and the World Organization to Investigate the Persecution of Falun
Gong
Falun Gong practitioners have indicated that this is only the beginning. They say they will continue to
provide name lists of tens of thousands of such criminals, following the same pattern as for crimes against
humanity and war crimes. These human rights agencies have begun preparing to accept future name lists.
The Name List of Parties Responsible for Persecuting Falun Gong Is Submitted to the American
Customs and Immigration Services
On March 9, 2004, a human rights supporters’ organization called Friends of Falun Gong and the World
Organization to Investigate the Persecution of Falun Gong submitted to the U.S. customs and immigration
departments a list of names of 102 Party chiefs responsible for persecuting Falun Gong, including Jiang,
Luo Gan, Liu Jing, Zhou Yongkang, Li Lanqing, Wang Maolin et al, and requested the American
government to forbid them from entering America. According to article 212 (a) (2) (G) of the Federal
Immigration & Naturalization Law, if any official of a foreign government has in the past two years been
involved in actions seriously violating religious freedom, they and their spouses and children will be
forbidden from entering America.
* * *
Currently, there are numerous lawsuits in many countries around the world against Jiang and his
followers who persecute Falun Gong, charging the perpetrators with genocide, torture, and crimes against
humanity, holding the CCP officials accountable for what they have done. The international community
has claimed that lawsuits of this magnitude have never been seen since the Nuremberg trials of Nazi
criminals.
Upon learning of the lawsuits against Jiang and other lawsuits, some CCP officials began thinking about
ways out for themselves. They have privately collected and compiled documents to prove that they are
innocent and were forced to carry out the orders by the 6-10 Office. According to sources within China,
some higher level 6-10 offices have ordered 6-10 offices at the county level to urgently take back all
documents and materials related to the persecution of Falun Gong since the illegal suppression started in
1999.
Obviously, Jiang’s friends and allies have begun abandoning his campaign against Falun Gong, and the
campaign is heading down a dead end. Jiang is faced with inescapable nets above and snarls below. His
path will verify the old Chinese saying, “Those who are unjust are doomed to destruction.”
See: Table of Lawsuits Filed Against Former Chinese Leader Jiang and His Followers by Falun Gong
Practitioners around the World (From 2001 to August 2004).
____________________
Notes:
[1] “Beijing Su Jiang An Liang Yuangao Yi Si Yi Panxing” (Beijing Lawsuit Against Jiang Zemin: One Plaintiff Dead, Other
Jailed). Epoch Times Chinese, Jan. 4, 2005. http://www.epochtimes.com/gb/5/1/4/n769403.htm.
[2] John Pomfret, “A Foe Rattles Beijing From Abroad; Falun Gong’s Mastermind in New York Guides a Campaign of
Protest.” The Washington Post, March 9, 2001. Page A 01.
[3] “Mayor of the City of Chicago and the City Council Unanimously Pass Resolution to Support Falun Gong.” Clearwisdom.net,
Nov. 8, 2002. http://www.clearwisdom.net/emh/articles/2002/11/8/28544.html.
[4] “Courtroom Presentation Against Jiang Zemin Shocks the Chinese Government; Officials Are Trying to Find Ways Out for
Themselves.” Clearwisdom.net, April 15, 2003. http://www.clearwisdom.net/emh/articles/2003/4/15/34542.html.
[5] Gong Ping. “Yi Qi Bei Lishi Mingji De Susongan (A Lawsuit That Will Be Remembered in History). Epoch Times Chinese,
May 20, 2004. http://www.epochtimes.com/gb/4/5/20/n544288.htm.
[6] Wang Lulu, “Mei Falu Jiaoshou: Su Jiang An Shi Shijie Renquan Yundong Yibufen” (U.S. Law Professor: Law Suit Against
Jiang is Part of Global Human Rights Movement). Epoch Times Chinese, Aug. 11, 2003.
http://www.epochtimes.com/b5/3/8/11/n357195.htm.
[7] Translation by Benjamin Jowett.
[8] “U.S. Court Affirms That Beijing Party Secretary Liu Qi is Liable for Crimes of Torture.” Clearwisdom.net, Dec. 18, 2004.
http://www.clearwisdom.net/emh/articles/2004/12/19/55732.html.
[9] Li Hua, “Luo Gan Fang Ou Zao Lianhuan Qisu” (Luo Gan Meets With Series of Legal Charges During Visit to Europe). Epoch
Times Chinese, Sept. 20, 2003. http://www.epochtimes.com/gb/3/9/20/n379378.htm.
1. Under Fire From All Sides
A Probe Into Jiang’s Background and Suspicious Dealings
It was the eve of the Chinese New Year in 2004. CCTV’s Spring Festival Gala was unfolding as usual,
with hosts speaking at the tops of their lungs and entertainers preparing to make the audience laugh.
However, Jiang Zemin was not pleased. Although in previous years Song Zuying’s act had always led off
the show, that year it was relegated to the end of the program; this was a sign that Jiang, who had
reportedly had an affair with the singer, was losing his influence.
To make matters worse, even members of the general public were beginning to openly challenge Jiang’s
authority.
On Feb. 21, 2004, Mr. Lu Jiaping, a scholar from Beijing, who was also a member of the Chinese
Research Society on the History of World War II, wrote a letter to members of the CCP’s Central
Committee, the National People’s Congress (NPC) and the Chinese People’s Political Consultative
Conference (CPPCC). He urged them to investigate some stories about Jiang that he had heard. In his
letter, Lu described in detail numerous scandals regarding the relationship between Jiang and Song
Zuying. For instance, he described how Jiang had once stuffed a note into Song’s hand, how he had told
Song to get divorced, how he had secretly committed adultery with Song, how he had used state funds to
hold concerts for Song in Vienna and Sydney, how he had diverted money from navy expenditures in
order to hold a drama concert for Song, and how Jiang had used three billion yuan to build the Grand
Theater to please Song.
Lu did not only discuss Jiang’s private life, however. As early as March 26, 2003, Lu addressed a letter to
Hu Jintao and the other eight members of the CCP’s Standing Committee of the Politburo, with carbon
copies sent to the major ministries and commissions directly under the State Council. In his letter, Lu
asked the leaders to officially investigate Jiang’s political history. Coincidentally, half a year later, Wu
Jiang, Chairman of the French Branch of the China Democracy Party wrote a five-page research report in
which he quoted the memoir of a former officer of the Soviet intelligence agency and pointed out that
Jiang had been a senior spy for the KGB. When he studied in Moscow in the 1950s, Jiang secretly joined
the KGB Far-East Bureau after the Soviet intelligence agency threatened to make public his traitorous
history and tempted him with women and money. Jiang was responsible for collecting information on
Chinese students in the Soviet Union and China.
After Lu Jiaping sent the above letter, Jiang retaliated against him and he went missing for three days.
Later, an ultimatum appeared on an Internet bulletin board. It claimed that if Lu Jiaping were not
released, a video showing Jiang and Song Zuying’s promiscuity would be published online. Surprisingly,
Lu was released the day after this anonymous message was posted, indicating that the posting struck a
cord with Jiang. Regardless, the posting itself raises the question of how someone was able to record
Jiang’s clandestine meeting with Song with “absolutely professional” quality if they had met in a secret
place, which they were certain was absolutely safe. Who were these people that had dared to challenge
Jiang when he had not yet fully stepped down?
In May 2004, a new phenomenon called “Stomping on Jiang” appeared overseas. This involved stomping
on a picture of Jiang’s face as a way of expressing discontent and frustration with his policies. On July 1,
half a million people held a parade in Hong Kong to advocate for democracy and freedom in the territory
and protest attempts to alter the Basic Law. Among the banners and posters they carried were ones that
showed people “stomping on Jiang.” During and after the parade, many passers-by joined the “stomping
on Jiang” activities. Zeng Qinghong reported this news to Hu Jintao, expecting that he would see it as
significant information and take steps to stop it. However, Hu responded, “Let the people handle their
issues themselves!” Upon hearing Hu’s response, Zeng became speechless.
Jiang Yanyong’s Open Letter and the “Tiananmen Massacre VCD”
In February 2004, Dr. Jiang Yanyong, who was well known for having made public the spread of SARS
the previous year, wrote an open letter to the NPC and the CPPCC. In the letter, he asked these bodies to
address and investigate the calamitous ending to the student-led pro-democracy movement of 1989. The
letter was later spread widely over the Internet.
In his letter, Dr. Jiang recalled what he had witnessed during the summer of 1989. At the time, Dr. Jiang
was the head of the general surgery department in People’s Liberation Army Hospital number 301. As a
result, he personally treated people wounded in the Tiananmen Square Massacre. In his letter, he
described in detail several deaths that he had witnessed. He also confirmed that the army had indeed fired
high-explosive shells (something forbidden by the Geneva Convention) to kill students and residents in
Beijing on June 4, 1989.
The Tiananmen Square Massacre was Jiang Zemin’s Achilles heel, so he quickly had Dr. Jiang Yanyong
kidnapped and detained. However, Jiang Zemin was no longer as powerful as he had been before.
Officials in the top echelons of the CCP and the army were very unhappy with Jiang for arresting Jiang
Yanyong, given the latter’s international reputation following the SARS exposure. Thus, Jiang soon had
to release the doctor.
The Tiananmen Massacre continued to worry Jiang Zemin. The less power he had, the more worried he
became. Before the 15th anniversary of the massacre in the summer of 2004, the Central Propaganda
Department made a VCD about the incident per Jiang’s instructions. All officials above the level of
‘director’ in the Party, the government and the military were required to watch the VCD in order to be
acquainted with the “June 4th Disturbance” and “to unify their thoughts.” All copies of the video were to
be “watched at the scene, and taken back to the scene,” and “saving [copies] for individuals was
prohibited.” Li Peng had wanted to write a memoir, but was not allowed to. It was thus quite unusual that
Jiang would publish a video on the massacre at that time.
Some analysts have explained that Jiang knew that he had an inglorious history and rise to power, making
him especially fearful that others would expose his role in the massacre. Thus, his aim in making the
video may have been to whitewash the role he played in the massacre. The production of the “June 4th”
video indicated Jiang’s difficult situation as his power declined. He had to worry about digging his own
way out and therefore, attempted to gain the upper hand by circulating a censored version of the event
early on.
Veterans of the Armed Forces Break Into Zhongnanhai
On Aug. 26, 2004, more than 300 veterans from the 39th Army Corps broke through the gates of
Zhongnanhai and entered the tightly guarded government compound. They wore their medals and carried