Green Politics in China

Environmental Governance and State-Society Relations

Joy Y Zhang, Michael Barr

• Editorial: Pluto Press
• Año: 2013
• ISBN:
  9781849649131
• Edición: 1
• Categoría: Politics & International Relations
• Categoría: Politics

Based on interviews with members of grassroots organisations, media and government institutions, Green Politics in China is an in-depth account of the novel ways Chinese society is responding to its environmental crisis, using examples rarely captured in Western media or academia. The struggle for clean air, low-carbon conspiracy theories, is transforming Chinese society, producing new forms of public fund raising and the encouraging the international tactics of grassroots NGOs. In doing so, they challenge static understandings of state-society relations in China, providing a crucial insight into the way in which China is changing internally and emerging as a powerful player in global environmental politics.

1 WHO IS TO BLAME?

Chinese Climate Sceptics: Recounting Responsibility?

Environment politics and climate change have generated huge volumes of academic and public debate. However, a YouTube video cleverly captures the gist of the issues in a mere 83-second cartoon. The cartoon shows that the core of ‘climate negotiations’ in the past two decades is a negotiation of responsibilities. Flags of various countries pass around a pair of scissors – used to symbolize cutting emissions – like a hot potato. While most countries agreed in principle that levels of carbon dioxide must be lowered, the question is who should mitigate and how? Developing countries blame the developed for their historical emissions: ‘You caused it. You fix it,’ chimes the cartoon. The North pressures the South with responsible development: ‘Either all cut or I won’t’, says a sceptical-looking figure wrapped in an American flag, a large cigar burning from each corner of its mouth. The video ends with the countries striking a deal: the rich will pay the poor to cut their emissions so they don’t have to.²

The video expresses a common sentiment within China, where, unbeknown to many in the West, a unique form of ‘climate sceptics’ has appeared. These sceptics do not challenge the validity of climate science per se. Instead they doubt the necessity and effectiveness of carbon reduction schemes. In their eyes, calls for low-carbon societies merely reflect the political and technical hegemony of the West. In 2010 alone, three books bearing provocative titles were published in China: Low-Carbon Plot: China’s vital war with the US and Europe (Gou, 2010), In the Name of CO₂: Global rivalry behind the low-carbon deceptions (Liu, 2010), and The Carbon Empire: Carbon capitalism and our bible (Bai, 2010). All these titles aimed to inform the general public of a ‘carbon colonialism’ which endangered social and economic progress in less-advantaged areas of China.

It may not be difficult to understand why going green is framed by these sceptics as a form of global economic rivalry. It is common knowledge, for example, that the global production chain has enabled a ‘dislocation of environment degradation’ in which developed countries ship emission-heavy manufacturing jobs to developing countries (Rathzel and Uzzell, 2009). For example, China’s Pearl River delta economic zone alone produces more than 60 per cent of the world’s toys, and has been the global manufacturing base for footwear, lighting fixtures, furniture and automobile parts (HKTDC, 2011). In other words, many of this region’s emissions are created for the benefit of consumers in developed countries. In this way, China is not only the world’s factory in that it makes things; it is also the world’s factory in the sense that it makes the pollution which allows the West to enjoy these things.

But these low-carbon conspiracy theorists are not only nationalistic or anti-West. Some of the scepticism of the carbon discourse also incorporates an uneasy scrutiny upon the Chinese domestic situation. For example, in its opening chapter, The Low-Carbon Plot questioned Beijing’s commitment to the development of solar panels:

Is solar power really clean? Investigations show that the base silicon that solar panels rely on is extracted via a energy intensive, heavily polluting industry. And where is this industry based? China .... China has already become the world’s biggest photovoltaic industrial market. The most important ingredient in solar power is polycrystalline silicon. The efficiency of manufacturing the panels is rather low, and a lot of pollution is generated as a by-product. When local industries started producing polycrystalline silicon, they were mostly reliant on outdated technology. Apart from high energy consumption, for every ton of pure polycrystalline silicon created, there were also more than 8 tons of silicon tetrachloride as by-product, as well as silicochloro-form, chlorine gas and other waste water and waste gas .... The prosperity of China’s solar power industry comes with the price of the environment of those rather weak distant regions. In order to attract investment and to collect tax revenue, many environmental appraisal programmes have not yet been strictly implemented.

(Gou, 2010: 3–4)

In the midst of China’s increasing state sponsorship of solar energy (Xinhua, 2009; Bradsher, 2009; Watts, 2009), the point of this book was hardly to portray China as the victim of Western exploitation, but was rather an attempted exposure of China’s ‘official view’, in which the commitment to renewable energy was only a political façade of the same old development strategy (Delingpole, 2010). While national statistics on solar production rose, the silicon villages were left ‘covered in grime and sweat’ (Gou, 2010: 4). Thus, while the author condemned the hypocrisy of going green, he was equally critical of the Chinese government’s blind self-congratulation and its ignorance in protecting the well-being of Chinese citizens.

This sentiment is captured on the very cover of The Low Carbon Plot, which asks two questions: ‘Is low carbon a form of environmental protection or a new green politics? Is low carbon a political sacrifice resulting from great powers’ gambling or is it a lifestyle ordinary citizens can look forward to?’ The conflict inherent in these questions was not framed so much as China versus the West, or domestic versus international, but as institutional politics versus everyday quality of life. Here, the scepticism lies in terms of politicians’ accountability to society. The book struck a chord in some segments of Chinese society as even though it was written for a domestic audience, The Low Carbon Plot is one of the few Chinese environmental books of which excerpts have been translated into English by Chinese netizens.³

However, climate sceptics are only one example of China’s emerging public reflection over state–society relations and existing power structures. In recent years, environmental politics has become a topic that goes beyond the elite circle of policy makers and academics, into the realms of public debate (Tan and Zhou, 2005; Wang, 2005; Wei, 2007).

This is, in part, because the government’s decisiveness in greening the state has failed to respond to everyday needs. In fact, Beijing’s efforts seemed to have fallen into a familiar characterisation: Armed with tens of billions of RMB in loans from Chinese Development Bank and having comparable advantage of scale, China has, in the words of the People’s Daily, ‘employed powerful economic and policy instruments in implementing an environmental economy’ and securing global market dominance (Lacey, 2011; Biggs, 2010; Zhong, 2012). Yet in the meantime, China’s environment is still under threat, in part because of the structure of its energy supply. Renewable energy still makes up less than 10 per cent of China’s energy consumption, with hydroelectric power, which raises ecological concerns of its own, being the main source (Qi, 2011: 289).

China’s ambition of becoming a world green energy leader can be traced back to 2007. According to Bloomberg Businessweek, Chinese officials were then ‘deadly serious about investing in solar power capacity at home and eventually becoming a dominant player in this rapidly-emerging, clean energy technology’ (Tschang, 2007). This ‘deadly serious’ level of decisiveness was for a number of reasons. For one, China’s environment was already recognised as ‘a world-class mess’ and a growing embarrassment to the image of the country and government, especially in the lead-up to the 2008 Olympics (Tschang, 2007). For another, China’s crude oil import dependence had been on the rise for years, which not only threatened national energy security in general but also, along with rising demand, contributed to fears over the economic impact of rolling blackouts which affected many small businesses in 2005 and again in 2008 (Xinhua, 2012b; Gou, 2010: 188–93).

For example, the 2005 oil and electricity shortage in the Pearl River delta and the month-long oil shortage in Guangdong in 2007 especially caught media attention.⁴ One commentary which appeared in Nanfang Daily is an illustration of how the general public have started to demand further participation in political decisions. The author admitted that he was initially, as many Chinese, ‘indifferent’ about the energy crisis. As an ordinary salary earner, he was not interested in political participation and was used to the idea that the government would take care of such ‘grand issues’ as national energy security. But as the price of toys, IT products, transportation, medication and housing all went up, the author felt like a poor man with a high income. Feeling the pinch, his commentary highlighted the interrelatedness between political debate and everyday life, and ended with a strong urge for public action: ‘for the big issues, can we still not care? Not worry? Not think of a response?’ (Wang, 2005).

In summary, the core of Chinese green politics can be seen as an entangled negotiation of responsibilities. But the negotiations are not just between political institutions and bureaucrats. Increasingly, green politics in China is a discussion between the state and society. To comprehend how such negotiations have been made possible, it is necessary to first examine how Chinese perceive state–society relations and how a public questioning of authority has emerged.

China Is Not Happy

The Unhappy Government: What Entitles You to Lecture Me?

In pure statistics, there is much China should feel happy about in terms of its efforts to combat global climate change. Some see China as ‘leading by action’, pointing to its role in the CDM, where as mentioned in the Introduction, it can claim to be the source of more than half the world’s Certified Emission Reductions (China Greentech Initiative, 2011; World Bank, 2009a: 262). But the raw numbers are even more impressive. In 2011, China led the world in renewable energy investment, responsible for almost one-fifth of total global investment at $52 billon (van der Slot and van den Berg, 2012). In addition, as a result of the 11th Five-Year Plan (from 2006 to 2010), China’s energy intensity was reduced by 19.06 per cent. Finally, in comparison with studies in the United States and the United Kingdom, a 2009 national survey showed that the Chinese public demonstrate a better understanding of human-induced greenhouse gas (GHG) emissions (Duan, 2010: 5283).

But China is not happy. In fact, as this chapter shows, both the Chinese government and society have different things to worry about. For its part, Beijing is frustrated by a lack of recognition and the unfair pressure it feels is being put on China to commit to binding emission reductions. Chinese rage was on full display at the closing of the 2011 United Nations Climate Change Conference in Durban. Xie Zhenhua, head of the Chinese delegation, was agitated with the European Union for pressuring China to reach an agreement on its terms. Xie threw back the criticism with the piercing remark: ‘What entitles you to lecture me here?’

A video clip from the Hong Kong Phoenix Satellite Television showed that this remark was proceeded with Xie berating his counterparts:⁵ ‘If we really want to react to climate change, then one must fulfil one’s promises, take actions, make real contributions in achieving goals in relation to responding to climate change. But now, there are certain countries, we are not looking at what you say, but what you do’ (Yan and Lin, 2011).

Xie went on with a series of questions:

These countries talked about a massive reduction of emissions – have they met these reductions? They talked about providing developing countries with financial and technical support – have they made such provisions? These promises have been talked for the last 20 years, but none have been fulfilled. We are developing countries, we need to develop, we need to eradicate poverty, we need to protect the environment, we’ve done all that we should have done. We have done what you have not. Then what entitles you to lecture me here?

(Yan and Lin, 2011)

This was not the first time a Chinese delegation had become angry at a UN climate summit. In Copenhagen in 2009, Xie also made a similar rebuke to Western delegates, asking them ‘What entitles you to negotiate with me?’ This comment was also directed at the failed promises of technical and financial support from developed countries.

Clearly, China is not shy of displaying its discontent. According to China Times, the Chinese delegation’s experience at Copenhagen can be summarised as ‘the first day, unhappy; the second day, very unhappy; the third day, extremely unhappy’ (Zhang, 2009). To some extent, Xie’s first ‘international rage’ in 2009 was almost an enactment of the bestseller Unhappy China: The great time, grand vision and our challenges, published nine months prior to the Copenhagen summit (Song et al., 2009). Unhappy China was widely regarded as a follow-up version to the 1996 national bestseller China Can Say No (Zhang et al., 1996). Both books promoted a form of extreme nationalism, and seemed to embrace the idea that China was a rising power which could afford some attitude. Unhappy China argued that China has been too deferential to the West and that ‘with Chinese national strength growing at an unprecedented rate, China should stop debasing itself and come to recognize the fact that it has the power to lead the world, and the necessity to break away from Western influence’ in order to carve out its own position of pre-eminence’ (Song et al., 2009).

As with the ‘unhappy’ episode in 2009, Xie’s remark in 2011 made headlines in many Chinese news outlets, and the Durban video clip quickly became a hit among Chinese netizens. But similar to the Unhappy book which, despite its huge sales, failed to strike a chord amongst average Chinese with its narrow nationalism, Xie’s speech received a mixed reaction within China (Wu, 2009). One example is from Ge Quan, contributing author to the reports of the Fourth and Fifth Assessments of the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change, who found Xie’s speech indulging and ironic at the same time:

Xie had a point and it was a point well made. Of course as a Chinese, I found that speech very indulging (guoyin). But then the irony is why wouldn’t you communicate these ideas earlier? From what I know, [as a climatologist], actually China is one of the most active countries in the world pushing for a low-carbon transition. This is not just at the national level, but at the local level as well. There are provincial greenhouse gas emission monitors, provincial low-carbon initiatives, and so on. Even at urban district level, such as Chaoyang district in Beijing, efforts are being made. Why not make these things known to the world, so that others can understand your situation more? If one wants to be seen as following the rules and reason, then one should act like this from the start and in all aspects. But instead, at the very last meeting, the Chinese delegate throws in some angry and desperate remark. It wouldn’t be wise for the image, would it? ... China is partly responsible for the existing bias against it as it still has to work on how to communicate and what to communicate with the world.

Ge is not alone in worrying about China’s (lack of) communicative strategies. A major initiative of Beijing’s has been to promote its image and enhance its own soft power in the face of international anxiety (Barr, 2011). Xie’s outburst does not do much to help such efforts. ‘To speak less and to act more’ (shaoshuo duogan) has always been considered a virtue in Chinese culture, but it is perhaps more celebrated in modern history, as it embodies a pragmatic approach for an impoverished nation to strive for social progress without ‘wasting’ time and resources in endless argument or ideological fervour. But some Chinese are starting to question if such rationales have led to a neglect of the values of transparency and accountability. As Ge pointed out, ‘If one wants to be seen as following the rules and reason, then one should act like this from the start.’ Here, the term ‘act’ not only denotes the implementation of an agenda, but also refers to the act of explaining and communicating what measures have been taken.

Thus, Ge’s worry about China’s ‘image-building’ is not so much about whether China is ‘likeable’ in the eyes of others, but about whether China appears to be ‘accountable’ or ‘to be seen as following the rules and reason’. Through his own participation in international climate dialogues, Ge acknowledged a reality of different views: ‘Of course the West is biased when they view China. In fact, we Chinese may have similar bias against the West. I feel they always try to enforce their idea on us. They always think they must be right, and you must be wrong because of your political system.’ But for Ge, simple nationalism or playing tough is not a solution to practical problems. After all, in his words, ‘what’s the point of having meetings if there is no meaningful dialogue but only bias?’

Ge was not alone in feeling anxious that China was not sending out the right message about improving its environmental record. Yan Qi, professor at Tsinghua University, said that in his research, ‘We do not pay too much attention to people’s “intention” or their “stands” on these issues. We care about what has happened and who can do what.’ This pragmatic view was not limited to academia but is also strongly echoed by grassroots activists.

Teng Anyu, founder of an underground ENGO, said that she didn’t need to follow ‘the scientific arguments about climate change, because I know the environment is changing and it ...

Índice

• Cover
• Title page
• Copyright page
• Contents
• List of abbreviations
• Acknowledgements
• Introduction
• 1 Who Is to Blame?
• 2 Ways of Seeing
• 3 Ways of Changing
• 4 Conformist Rebels
• 5 The Green Leap Forward
• Conclusion: To Stomach a Green Society
• References
• Index