Chinese dream

Each generation of Chinese leadership adopts a mantra that is designed to represent the spirit of that administration. It becomes a refrain during speeches and public statements. Hu Jintao extolled the dual virtues of "scientific development" and a "harmonious society," highlighting the need in the last decade for expansion in Chinese science and technology, and use of that R&D in managing an increasingly connected and demanding citizenship.

In that last decade, China has risen to become the world's 2nd biggest economy, with the world's greatest number of internet users, and largest number of mobiles phones in use: 1.22 billion. Against the backdrop of China's well-publicized problems with pollution, human rights, and other issues, there is much for the leadership to be excited about as the "Chinese miracle" pushes ahead. In this spirit, it would seem, Xi Jinping has begin to use the phrase, "the Chinese dream," as his administration's calling card earlier in 2013.

"The Chinese dream" is a cryptic message with different resonances. Riffing on the dreams of other countries, such as America, how might the Chinese dream compare? One thing is clear: whereas previous leaders have emphasized more practical, pragmatic language and present change, Xi's dream is about a better future.

Construction sites are ubiquitous all over China, and Beijing is no exception. The markings on protective walls surrounding these sites are managed by local propaganda departments for display of advertisements suggesting slogans and other messages: right now, it's "the Chinese dream." When I first saw these go up earlier in the autumn of 2013, I was impressed how minimally clean and tasteful the design was, as opposed to the Hu administration's busy and less thoughtful aesthetic.

The above writing in large characters could be translated as "wish luck to the motherland," with an image filial piety accompanying to the right. Ian Johnson's analysis of the Chinese dream propaganda in the New York Review of Books points out how propaganda these days is moving from an emphasis on Communist to more traditional, Confucian values that were vilified just years before:

The difference is that while the old posters touted Communist values, the new ones largely replace them with pre-Communist Chinese traditions—drawing on traditional folk art like paper cutouts, woodblock prints, and clay figurines to illustrate their message. This is a redefinition of the state’s vision from a Marxist utopia to a Confucian, family-centric nation, defined by a quiet life of respecting the elderly and saving for the future.

Why move from espousing political values and instead emphasize traditional culture in Party imagery and language? Johnson explains the value in having the two blend together:

Almost all the art used in the posters, with its depictions of traditional dress and poses, used to be derided by the Party as belonging to China’s backward, pre-Communist past; now, these aesthetic traditions are a bulwark used to legitimize the Party as a guardian and creator of the country’s hopes and aspirations. 

One of the most interesting posters is the above, zhong guo hao qi! literally, "nice move, China!" The image is of two children playing chess. As Johnson observes, the major question here is: what is the nature of the game that China is winning? Who is the opponent?

It is easy to read especially the above as thought engineering, but to be honest it seems like most locals at least in Beijing pay very little regard. Whereas folks outside China might envision millions of Beijingers wandering city streets, eyes agog as the brainwash takes them over, Johnson's blog shows many of these posters are viewed cynically, some even defaced and ripped--a high crime that, if the vandal was caught, would certainly lead to detention or worse. Especially as a foreigner, it's easy to read the "good move, China" poster as an statement of China's aggressive intentions to "win the game," be it international diplomacy or a more domestic concern. I would instead look at it as a representation of Party neurosis that the government feels the need to manufacture a reality they are not certain is actually happening. As Jonathan Spence writes, "modern China" has not yet arrived, but the search is underway, with many trying to shape what that place may be, in word and action.