Oriada

If I had a yuan for every time I’ve been asked by folks from home why, with 1.3 billion football-crazy people to choose from, China is apparently unable to round up 11 half-decent footballers to form a competent national team,  I’d be a very rich man.  Well, maybe not rich but I would, at least, be better off than most professional footballers in China, who according to Chinese football legend Hao Haidong are poorer than migrant workers.

In a TV interview yesterday, Hao claimed that non-payment of wages is rife in Chinese football and many professional footballers are in dire financial straits .  The beanpole striker’s comments drew criticism from some quarters, but shed light on the reasons for both the appaling standard of football in the domestic league and the national team’s embarrasing display against Singapore a few weeks back. 

The players aren’t being paid because the entire league is riddled with corruption, illegal betting and crooked refereeing. Gambling rings have destroyed competition and bled all enjoyment from the leagues.  In 2004, the Super League came close to meltdown, when even the players refused to continue the farce.  In October of that year, players from top clubs Beijing Hyundai, Dalian Shide and others, walked off in the middle of their games in protest at obviously biased refereeing decisions.  The players then went on strike, and it took an extraordinary climbdown by the CFA to bring them back to work, with the national governing body promising to open their books and cede some power to the players,

Little has really changed in the interim, though, and attendances keep dropping.  Fans, naturally, have voted with their feet, and sponsors have followed suit.  Last year the Super League’s main sponsor, Siemens, terminated its association with the event.  As a result, many clubs are just barely staying afloat. No sponsors and no fans means no money, and no wages for the poor stooges going through the motions on the field.  

The money problems extend right the way up the chain too.  An article on Sina.com last month (link in Chinese) investigated why a big-name coach still hasn’t been appointed to lead the national team, even though it’s been almost 5 months since the last coach stepped down and a number of high-profile candidates, like former England boss Howard Wilkinson, have registered their interest. The reason?   There’s no money.  The sponsors aren’t willing to spend the estimated 500,000 euros it would take to attract a top manager, and given the ptitful state of the domestic game, can you really blame them?

So now you know why Chinese football is so bad.

Spare a thought, though, for the players of 2004-05 champions Shenzhen Jianlibao.  Earlier this year they went to the labour court to  force their club to fork out almost 5 million yuan’s worth of unpaid wages.  It seems possible, however, that while they were waiting for their cash,  some of the players may have turned to some less-than-legal sources for fiduciary assistance, because, in the last year, two of the club’s first team have been attacked and savagely beaten on the streets of the city by "unidentified assailants".

China Daily reports  that the China Banking Regulatory Commission (CBRC) and the Ministry of Commerce are having second thoughts about the tough regulations they set for foreign banks entering the Chinese market. 

According to the terms of the country’s accession to the WTO, China is obliged to open the banking sector to foreign institutions by the end of this year.  But in June, the domestic regulators surprised everyone, none moreso than the foreign banks, by slapping a host of new limitations on foreign financial institutions entering China.  The proposal that caused most upset stipulated that foreign banks could only accept single local deposits of a minimum of a million yuan, which would in effect force them out of most of the market. 

Since then, the overseas banks have been kicking up an almighty ruckus and crying foul and it now appears that the Chinese authorities have been paying attention.  The China Daily article states that bickering between the CBRC - who are more interested in protecting the domestic players than welcoming the outside banks - and the Ministry of Commerce - who are concerned about WTO compliance - may see the idea shelved or changed.

For the reason why there has been such an outcry from the foreign players about this, see this story and this one.  China has the highest rate of personal savings in the world, estimated at almost 50% (compared with 10% in the USA).  Yet, surprisingly, it seems that even as Chinese people get richer, increased interest rates are encouraging them to save more rather than spend more.  China Daily reports on the results of a nationwide survey of 20,000 people, which found that the number of people who believe "saving is a better option than spending" has risen 2.2 percentage points in the last quarter alone. 

The market potential is simply enormous.  No wonder the bankers were so mad.  

Members of the International Monetary Fund today voted overwhelmingly to approve a controversial package of reforms that will give greater power and imporatance in the IMF to China and three other countries.  The changes will see China’s share of the votes in the IMF rise from the present 2.98% to 3.719%, with the shares of South Korea, Turkey and Mexico also rising by similarly small amounts.

Although the amounts seem insignificant, the IHT described the moves as "a swing in the global order" and  Henry M. Paulson Jr., US Treasury secretary was quoted as saying “It looks like a small step forward, but it’s a large step".  Not everyone was happy with the decision, though, with India dismissing as "flawed" the entire process of reform.

The Western powers, however, have agreed to support China’s expanding role in the hope that the increased power will force China to become more responsible in the way it gives handouts to other countries.   China’s influence as an international donor is growing, but in keeping with the stated dictums of its foriegn policy -  ‘A Peaceful Rise’ and ‘Non-interference’ - its donations are notably free of the ethical clauses that accompany Western contributions.  Such catch-free handouts are welcomed by certain states that have become pariahs in the west.  The list of countries that have benefitted from Chinese donations raises eyebrows: Zimbabwe, Sudan and Myanmar are just three of the countries depending on charity from Beijing to stay afloat.

On a related note, the military junta in Myanmar today expressly thanked China for its support in opposing a resolution in the  UN Security Council to formally list Myanmar on the council’s agenda.  The resolution was passed last Friday by 10 votes to 4.  The dissenters were China, Russia, Qatar and Congo.

Unsurprisingly, there are no official statistics available on patriotic and nationalist sentiment in China, but if there were they would make for interesting reading.

National spirit in China is not just that misty-eyed feeling one gets when the Irish rugby team beat England at Twickenham (or anywhere else for that matter).  With China on the up economically, but relations with Japan at an all-time low,  nationalism here much much more than that.   Almost every social and cultural activity is infused with nationalist spirit, from computer games to pop star fashions.  More than that, nationalism is a political weapon, a convenient plug for the gaping hole left by the demise of communism, and, as such, something the authorities are keen to foster.

So, despite the shortage of official stats, one would expect the level of national pride in China to be high, very high indeed.  Perhaps seeking to fill the statistical void and confirm this trend, someone at the popular 163.com website apparently decided to quantify national pride in China by finding out how many citizens would choose to be Chinese if they were born again.    The results, though, were  surprising, with more than 60% of the respondents indicating that they would not choose to be Chinese.

As soon as the authorities caught this faint whiff of a controversy (with its potential to spark debate on the taboo topic of Chinese national identity), the official clamdown, was swift, clean and thorough.  The South China Morning Post reports that two editors - Tang Yan and Liu Xianghui- from Netease, the company running the website that organised the survey, have been sacked and the poll and its results have been taken down. 

As reported by Danwei on Sept 11th, the survey asked respondents if they were to be reincarnated would they choose to be Chinese again.  The unexpected results, as noted by Danwei, were as follows:

38.1%: No, because Chinese people get no respect.
17.4%: No, because you can’t afford a house in China, and the good life is too far off.
0.4%: No, because you can’t see good cartoons in China.
0.7%: No, because you can’t make spoof videos in China.
7.8%: No, no reason.
6.3%: Yes, I want to be a descendant of the dragon.
1.7%: Yes, because China’s economy is developing and the future is bright.
6.7%: Yes, because China’s long history and vast culture fills me with pride.
2.7%: Yes, because I’m currently pretty happy, and I trust it will be the same in the future.
18.2%: Yes, because I love my homeland, no other reason.

These results were based on 10,234 responses.

"Raise a Corpse From the Dead" is one of the famous 36 Tricks, the military stratagems that have influenced generals and leaders in China since long before the Art of War.   This particular proverb’s rough meaning is that, when the time is right, one should resurrect some person, thing or idea long-abandoned or ignored and use it to one’s own advantage.

For a classic example of this idea in action, look no further than China’s reaction to Pope Bendict’s comments on Islam. Never ones to miss an opportunity to lay into the Taiwan-friendly Holy See (which is in keeping with another one of the 36 strategies: "Loot a burning house") Chinese authorities have stoked the pope’s troubles by ensuring that the voices of Chinese muslims are heard loud and clear amidst the international clamour. 

To do so, they have raised the corpse of Chen Guangyuan, head of the Islamic Association of China. Normally utterly anonymous, today he has been let off the leash so that he can have a go at the Pope and register the upset of China’s Islamic community.  The publication of his comments is surprising since religious leaders in China, even those like Mr Chen who are appointed by the Party, almost never make comments in public, particularly on matters of international politics.  But the leadership has apparently judged that in order to have a dig at the Vatican it is worth giving domestic religious figureheads like Mr. Chen the oxygen of publicity. 

"This has gravely hurt the feelings of the Muslims across the world, including those from China," Chen said, in a report published by Xinhua. "Both the Islamic Association of China and Chinese Muslim would here express their anger and condemnation over Benedict’s words.  We strongly request Pope Benedict XVI to immediately take back his words and apologize openly and in person." 

No doubt many of China’s Muslims were angry at the pope’s comments, but it is hard to take Mr Chen’s comments seriously considering that he apparently stays schtum on almost every other matter affecting his flock in China, and only appears on the scene at politically serendipitous occasions

A quick search for Chen Guangyuan’s name on the People’s Daily website reveals that the last time this particular corpse was exhumed was in June, when he was trotted out to refute American allegations of religious persecution in China.  "We feel cheated; we made a lot of effort to ensure the commission saw the true situation and we hoped they would tell the truth in their report" said Mr Chen at the time.

Almost 30 years to the day after his death, one has to wonder what the great helmsman would make of reports like this one in yesterday’s Guardian about China’s burgeoning polo scene.  Well, perhaps burgeoning is not quite the right word. What’s one step above hypothetical?

In fairness to Xia Yang, the man behind the polo club, he has organised an impressive line-up for his team.  The chairman of oil giant Sinopec, and the CEO of the company that built the rail line to Tibet are apparently two of the (however many people comprise a polo team/group/set/herd) who will be pulling on the red jerseys for a game/chukka/innings against Australia next month. 

Xia, though, is adamant that he and his club are not elitist.  "Polo is not about money, it is about being a gentleman," he says.  And being a gentleman evidently necessitates owning a horse and having enough free time to galavant around on it with billionaire tycoons.  But it’s not elitist.  Just to be clear on that. 

Xia also has plans for an official national team, and big ambitions for his outfit that now boasts only 20 members. "I really hope that one day I will have the opportunity to play against Prince Charles and the Sultan of Brunei." 

But, remember, it’s not elitist. 

On a similar vein, China Daily today carries an AFP report on the nascent movement to popularise cricket in China.  The Asian Cricket Council evidently sees China as the key market for the development of cricket. 

"Once China comes on board in a significant manner, then cricket will truly be a global game. Chinas presence will encourage other countries to try harder to make an impact," said Asian Cricket Council chief executive Syed Ashraful Huq.  Unfortunately, however, one gets a sinking feeling from this article that the ACC is betting on success based on the same equation that has burned so many before. To whit:

(spalshing oodles of cash on promoting something in a country where no-one has ever heard of it)

X

(1.3 billion would-be consumers/users/players of the aforementioned thing)

=  $$$$$$$$$

"As soon as China breaks through, I foresee the total global revenues for cricket increasing by up to 30 to 40 percent," said Mr. Huq.

Anyway, all good wholesome fun, I’m sure.  But those who can’t afford a thoroughbred, or don’t have a cricket oval marked out in their back gardens, needn’t fret.  This week there’s also good news for the financially embarrased: Tesco is bringing dirt cheap ready meals to China.  The FT revealed yesterday that the supermarket giant will begin selling Tesco-branded valuepack products through its Chinese joint venture, Hymall.  It will be introducing up to 500 own-brand products, including readymeals and instant noodles.

Wen Jiabao, friend of the foreign media? So says China Daily, reporting on a speech Wen gave in London yesterday in which he "stressed that China would stick to the policy of opening-up to the outside world".  Wen apparently assured his audience at the China-Britain Business Council that the state would protect the rights of foreign media in order to "assure the smooth flow of the economic and financial information".  There was a sting in the tail, though, as he intimated that this protection would be available only to those who play by the Chinese government’s rules.  "We will work to ensure that financial and economic information will flow uninterrupted. We trust that the foreign media will … observe Chinese laws and regulations," he is reported to have said.

More of the same at the Foreign Ministry yesterday, too, where officials are putting on their friendly faces in an effort to dampen talk of a media clampdown in advance of the 2008 Games.   "China will continue to improve its work and provide more service, convenience and help to foreign media and journalists," said spokesman Qin Gang.  But before you grab your dictaphone and rush off to interview that political dissident under house arrest in Tibet, Mr. Qin also reminds you that "China also hopes foreign media and journalists can observe the laws and regulations of their resident country".

Every so often its good to be reminded that the Chinese economic miracle is not all it seems.   Beneath the g-force economic growth and jaw-dropping statistics lie a fallibility and frailty that are thrown into stark relief by stories like this.  

Municipal authorities in Shanghai have cut prices yet again for the superfast Maglev train that links the airport and the downtown area.  In an effort stave off the seemingly inevitable decision to abandon the technological boondoggle, maglev management have made discounts of up to 40% available to those who buy 30 one-way tickets.  This comes a little over a year after ticket prices were slashed from more than 75 yuan to less than 50 yuan.

The Shanghai train is the only commercial train in the world utilizing maglev technology.  It was conceived as a symbol of the astonishing rise of both Shanghai and China, and as an advertisement for the country’s technological development.  As such, it is a project of which the government is fiercely proud and keenly protective. But commercially, and indeed logistically, it has been an collosal failure.  It has never turned a profit and shows no sign of doing so.  In fact, the local government have been keeping this white elephant on the tracks by underwriting annual losses of almost half a billion yuan.

The train whisks passengers from its terminus to the airport in just 8 minutes, at a top speed of 432 kilometres.  But few bother to take it because, despite the speed, it’s surprisingly inconvenient.  For one thing, it doesn’t actually go from the city centre, but from a station about 10 km from downtown.  You can get the subway to the Maglev station, but that’s still a 20 minute journey from Pudong or Nanjing Road.  And anyone who has tried to lug their suitcases on or off of a Shanghai subway at rush hour in People’s Square will understand why people forego the experience of riding this transportation marvel in in favour of taking a bus or taxi. 

In spite of all this, authorities continue to talk up maglev technology and China’s role in developing it.  There is even talk of extending the existing maglev line, and discussions are ongoing between Chinese and German authorities about building a maglev connecting Shanghai and Hangzhou.  Talks on the development of this line stalled earlier in the summer, however, when the German side rejected China’s demands for the German technology in exchange for the construction contract.

This idea received a further blow when the airport maglev caught fire while in service in late August.  The irrepressible People’s Daily, as only the People’s Daily can, performed outrageous cartwheels of logic in an effort to put a positive spin on this mishap involving the symbol of the country’s technological prowess, claiming that, rather than dampening enthusiasm for maglev technology, the fire would strengthen the Chinese hand in the negotiations with the Germans. 

Good news for Gordon Brown and the Labour party, though.  George Osborne, David Cameron’s Shadow Chancellor, is reportedly dead set on splashing billions of taxpayers’ pounds on maglevs in the UK if the Tories get into power. "“If Japan is developing this technology, if China has already introduced this kind of train, if Germany is looking at this technology, why are we not doing so in Britain?” he said.  Mr Osborne would be well advised to look closer at the Chinese model before repeating such statements.

The PR geniuses at Peking University, one of the country’s most prestigious seats of learning, are at it again.  Just weeks after announcing their intention to keep out the riff-raff by banning tour groups, last week it was revealed that they were planning to build a golf course slap bang in the middle of the campus. Accused of elitism and wasting both financial and environmental resources, they came out swinging , claiming that they are only going to build a teeny tiny driving range.  Less a golf course and  "more like a cage for students", said PU’s PE Director Hao Guangan.  (Well, ok, what he actually said was "more like a cage for students to practice their swing") 

Nevertheless, that Peking University has decided to add golf to its syllabus is both surprising and revealing.  Golf has yet to capture the public imagination in China.  It’s commonly referred to derisively as "the rich man’s game", the sport of the elite and the spoiled few.  Earlier this year, the Chinese golfing enthusiasts made a brave, if foolhardy, appeal to patriotism in an attempt to stoke up public interest in the game, claiming that golf had been invented in China several centuries before the Scots thought of it.  But public apathy (and very very flimsy supporting evidence for the audacious claim) undermined their efforts. 

In China, golf remains a cult sport, at best.  Courses are few and far between, and with arable and residential land at a premium in China, the government actively discourage their construction.  Regardless, even if you found one you could never afford the green fees or membership.  China is one of the few countries where Tiger Woods could walk around unnoticed on the streets of most towns. 

Yet, despite this, Peking University has decided that its students need to spend their time honing their driving skills.  When the range is completed, students will apparently be offered golf classes as part of their PE syllabus.  It’s not yet known whether the classes will be compulsory.

The question everybody has been asking is why PU felt it necesssary to offer classes for golf, a sport that his not at all popular.  One reason this story got so much attention is because Peking University’s staff and students have long been accused of having ideas above their station.  That they had decided to descend from their ivory towers and  take up their 3-woods for a few rounds of the rich man’s game was seen by many as yet another sign that the folks at PU had lost touch with reality.

But in fact, rather than symbolising Peking University’s overinflated self-importance, this story may actually illustrate the extent to which the school and its leaders are racked with insecurities and starting to panic.  PU has been noticeably slipping in public esteem in recent years, and this golfing fad may be part of its attempt to claw back some of the cred and prestige it has been haemorraging. 

There was a time when Peking University, and its elite counterparts Qinghua and Fudan, were guaranteed to attract the absolute best of the country’s student population.  They feared competition from none bar the US Ivy League schools.  In recent years, however, it has become increasingly obvious that China’s top colleges are losing their lustre.  The standard of education in general on the mainland has failed to keep pace with the country’s economic development.  A survey last year by the McKinley group found that only 10 % of graduates from Chinese universities were fit to work in foreign companies. 

With that in mind, students have been taking their business elsewhere, many of them only as far as Hong Kong where they the more international style of education will improve their chances of finding a job on graduation.  30,000 of the nation’s brightest students applied to universities in Hong Kong this year, with only just over 1,000 places up for grabs, a huge increase on applications in 2005.  The reasons for this are plain.  99% of graduates from Hong Kong’s top universities found work on graduation.  At Chinese universities, even the very best ones, that figure stands at around 85% at best.  

Faced with this new threat, universities on the mainland have been scrambling to rebrand themselves and present a new, dynamic public face.  For Peking university this doesn’t just involve building cages for students (to practice their swing). As part of its image overhaul it has also announced that it will change its English name, ditching the quaintly old-fashioned Wade-Giles spelling of Peking, and adopting the fashionable "of" style.  From next year, it will become known as the University of Beijing.