Should you write reviews of bad books? Obviously not if the
book is so bad that you never finished it. Not even if you finished it because
it is often not worthwhile doing. But sometimes, as in this case, I think it is
worth to review a (generally) bad book because it represents, in a distilled
form, the wrong opinions of a significant group of researchers or politicians. Jean-Pierre
Cabestan’s book
“Demain la Chine: démocratie ou dictature? represents such a case.
Cabestan is a well-known French scholar of China and Taiwan (teaching
at the Baptist University in Hong Kong) and in his most recent book he endeavors
to answer the question whether China will evolve towards a liberal democracy,
remain where it is now (politically), or become a nationalist dictatorship.
Before I tell you what Cabestan’s answer is, let me situate Cabestan
politically.
In a very bizarre approach for an academic Cabestan often
writes of “nous” and “notres” (us and ours) values, opinions etc. One is rather
puzzled throughout the book who these “us” could be. One guesses that it could
be the “liberal intelligentsia”, but the answer comes explicitly only at the end
of the book in a section entitled “What should democracies do?”. There we learn that “us”
is Western democracies because Cabestan ends the book with a sort of a manual
on how “Western liberal democracies” (called also "civilized countries", p. 270) should deal with China. (Among a number of
bizarre prescriptions is to never use the term “friendship” in joint communiques
with China.) One thus wonders if the book might have been commissioned by the
Quay d’Orsay or another organization to guide policy with respect to China
rather than representing a genuine academic text.
Ideologically, Cabestan is fully aligned with the trend of
thought that was dominant in the 1990s and the early 2000s and which regards
the attainment of liberal democracy as the ultimate telos of all societies, the
West as the agent that would ensure
that all countries do get to their rightful destination, and “liberal
interventionism”, political or military (as the case may be) as the tool to achieve
it. Cabestan displays, like many adherents of this view, a remarkable blindness
to the fact that what they self-servingly consider to be only an interference
in other countries’ affairs in order to help them democratize, may often appear
to the others as a naked stab for domination. In his last chapter, Cabestan
indeed comes very close to suggesting that West’s policies should aim at
dismemberment of China under the guise of giving full democratic rights to
different “oppressed minorities”. He does not stop to realize that if such is
the objective of Western “democratizing” policies, they are very unlikely to
appeal to the Chinese liberal middle class that Cabestan views as the key constituency
that would bring democracy about. He similarly fails even to mention a number
of debacles and setbacks that such approach has suffered in the past twenty years
(Iraq, reversed democracies in Russia and Turkey, end to the Arab Spring, Libyan
chaos) much less to acknowledge its implicit cultural arrogance.
Cabestan chastises China for being a “revisionist power” for,
among other reasons, asking and getting the increase in its voting rights at the
IMF from 2.3% to 6.4%. But he does not note that China’s current voting rights are about one-third of those of the United States, and thus may
still be regarded as an understatement given that China is the second (or the
first, in terms of purchasing power) economy in the world, the second largest exporter,
and the most populous country. It is more than obvious that China will, like
any other nation, desire that its current world ”weight” in international organizations
(be it IMF or WTO) be reflective of her today’s position, and not of her 1945
status.
So, what is Cabestan’s judgment on China's democratization?
After passing in review, often repetitively, the positions of various groups (the
Party-State, private sector entrepreneurs, the intellectual elite, the counter-elite,
and the like), he concludes that the Party is currently so strong that it can
easily fend off any challenge to its authority, or power, whether it comes from
an economic downturn, social dissatisfaction or international tensions. But—interestingly--while
he entirely dismisses prospects for democratization in the next 20-30 years,
Cabestan is equally strongly convinced that, eventually, China will become democratic.
The reader is left in a quandary. If Cabestan was unable to identify a single circumstance
or a long-term trend that would lead to democratization,
how and why is democratization going to happen? In the long-run Cabestan
thinks, everything is possible (we do not know why) and so by some deus ex
machina trick China will turn democratic. Utter pessimism for the short- to
medium-run is thus matched by an equally utter optimism as to
the long run! But that eventual long-run will be also somebody’s short-run, 20
or 30 years hence. So why would not Cabestan today’s diagnosis apply then too?
I am totally unconvinced that all societies have to evolve to
the telos of liberal democracy, but leaving this aside I am also unconvinced by
Cabestan’s belief in CCP’s stability. A more astute observer might have avoided
to speak of the Party-state as it were a single individual with determined and clear
objectives. When we view the Party-state in such a light, it is indeed strong
enough to fight all possible challengers. But paying perhaps more attention to
Eastern Europe and the USSR would have convinced Cabestan that the Party often
contains within itself different ideologies and also different personalities
who in order to come to power might espouse the ideologies that, otherwise, they
would never support. Cabestan might have noticed that towards the end of the Communist
regimes in Eastern Europe and the USSR, the CPs contained a large segment of
social-democrats, but also pragmatists, nationalists and sheer opportunists.
Thus rejecting the role of potential personality conflicts (as that between Bo
Xilai and Xi Jinping) as driven by individual interests and not by ideology is wrong: personal
conflicts often find in “ideologization” their justification and a way to conceal
the raw ambition that frequently underlies them.
Does the book have any redeeming features? It does. Cabestan
is, in my opinion, right to see corruption as an inherent feature of political capitalism,
and the present anti-corruption campaign as a way to arrest the internal decay
of the Party which threatens its
survival. He is probably right in his emphasis on mutual interdependence of political
and economic elites, and thus on the lack of interest of the new, private-sector
elite in promoting democratic change. He is probably right also in pointing out
to the ambivalence of Confucianism when it comes to giving an explicit
endorsement to non-hierarchical societies, individualization, and equal (nominal) right of every individual
to participate in political life.
If the book were more analytical and less partisan, and better
sourced (the number of references to both Chinese and foreign authors is limited and vague) and less repetitive, more thoughtful and less of a parti-pris,
it would be worth reading—on its own merits. As it is, it is mostly worth
reading to see the limits or rather poverty of vision shared by “liberal
interventionists”.
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