Of course, everyone knows the answer to that one. What’s less clear is whether the populist image Hu and party spinmeisters have been cultivating for him is to be believed. Soon even that may not matter: the risks associated with cracking down on corruption–sacking VIPs and party colleagues–are rapidly being eclipsed by the risks of not cracking down. Since November, Hu has gotten rid of eight cabinet-level officials for graft and state prosecutors expect more big cases this year. Separate antigraft teams have been dispatched to various provinces and cities to confiscate the passports of top officials whom they fear might be at risk of fleeing with state funds, according to a local magazine.
Hu has also reportedly met a number of experts on reform and governance this year, including several prominent intellectuals whose critical writings have angered more hard-line authorities. But some question how much Hu can accomplish, given that he must rely on the party to police itself. Promoting his image as an anti-corruption activist may serve only to raise unrealistic expectations. “Every time a new generation of leaders take office, everybody has high hopes that things will take a turn for the better,” says a local Chinese journalist.
Official corruption remains the No. 1 concern of Chinese citizens in opinion polls. Thus far Hu has tried to parry public pressures with stopgap measures, incremental reforms and selective punishment of corrupt officials. Leaking evidence of his supposed populist concerns to the Chinese press appears to be yet another way of tapping into the people’s faith in a reservoir of official sympathy–somewhere. Still, these public-relations moves by the party carry their own danger: they’ve caught on like wildfire with protesters in the streets, and ironically may end up encouraging more demonstrations. Many Beijing residents openly cite another “internal report”–dubbed the No. 5 Document–in which Hu expresses his concern for how the party handles complaints and petitions from citizens. “The No. 5 Document proves there’s a contradiction among the leaders,” says Beijing activist Hua Huiqi. “One faction wants to see people air their grievances about corruption. The other just wants to suppress.”
Indeed, many protesters are convinced a quiet power struggle is raging within the cloistered pavilions of Zhongnanhai, the government’s leadership compound, between Hu and the cronies of his predecessor, Jiang Zemin. Some Shanghai protesters believe Beijing city officials are sympathetic to their cause and blame official corruption on the powerful “Shanghai gang.” This faction–named after the city where all of them once worked–includes a number of Jiang proteges who took the majority of posts on the Politburo Standing Committee during last year’s Party Congress.
What gives them this impression? After dozens of Shanghai petitioners were temporarily held in custody and questioned on Sept. 2, a Beijing police officer stunned several of them with his candor. According to Xiao Youqing, one of the detainees, the cop said: “The Shanghai gang includes seven out of the nine members of the Politburo Standing Committee–how can they handle anything properly? We take pity on you. But we can’t do anything to help you.”
That, the cop seemed to be implying, was Hu’s job. Increasingly, Chinese citizens are calling on the president to personally clean up the party. How, when–and whether–he does so may reveal if Hu is a genuine man of the people or just another apparatchik who wants to look like one.
