Stress Production (Part 3)
Power relations may take many forms, and social practices and structures will play an important role in shaping and directing these relations. Consequently, in a society, characterized by particularist ties as opposed to bureaucratic organization, power relations will create divergent forms and manifestations. However, it remains to be seen if particularist forms of association hamper or facilitate resistance or subordination to pre-existing power relations. Indeed, central to this discussion of particularist ties is the multi-layered concept of guanxi. Following these general discussions concerning particularist ties and guanxi, it is useful to consider their roles concerning symbolic subordination or resistance to pre-existing power structures. In addition, one may consider the effects concerning material subordination or resistance. Thus, through careful anthropological research one may examine the effects of Chinese particularist connections and determine whether these connections perpetuate or oppose pre-existing power relations.
In order to understand particularist ties, it is useful to examine how they diverge from Western social organization. Thus, Fei Xiaotong presents a dichotomy between Western, organizational forms of association (tuantigeju) and Chinese, differential modes of association (chaxugeju) (1992: 71). Indeed, Fei compares tuantigeju to bundles of hay in which individual straws are organized into discrete bundles, which are combined to form discrete stacks, which combine to form the entire haystack (1992: 61). Thus, for members of a Western organization: “Their relationship to the organization is usually the same. If there are differences among group members or distinctions among ranks within the organizations, these would have been agreed upon earlier as part of the rule of the organization” (Fei 1992: 62). On the other hand, Fei compares Chinese forms of organization to a series of concentric circles (Fei 1992: 63). Consequently: “Each network is like a spider’s web in the sense that it centers on oneself. Everyone has this kind of a kinship network but the people covered by one network are not the same as those covered by any other” (Fei 1992: 63). Moreover, these social circles expand and constrict based on context and one’s level of power and wealth (Fei 1992: 64). Consequently, Chinese social organizations differ from Western social organizations in that they are less discrete and may be expanded or constricted depending on one’s circumstances or needs.
Moreover, no analysis of Chinese particularist ties is complete without a discussion of guanxi. Thus, according to Max Weber, traditional Chinese society and traditional Confucian ethics were characterized by the “personalist principle”, and many later Western observers have built upon this line of thought (Yan 1996: 15-16, 17). However, others such as Shu-ming Liang and Fei Xiaotong have characterized Chinese society as relationship-based and particularist, as opposed to individual or group-based (Yan 1996: 16). Others such as Ezra Vogel argue that the CCP has succeeded in converting particularistic ties into universalist ties of equality, yet later writers refuted this view in the 1980’s (Yan 1996: 16). In contrast to those, such as Bruce Jacob’s who define guanxi as “particularist ties”, Andrew Walder theorizes a continuum with particularism and “ceremonialized bribery” on opposing ends (Yan 1996: 16-17). Indeed, as a result of the need to curry favor with authorities in return for access to resources, Walder asserts, “these ties have a certain stabilizing effect on authority relations”(Yan 1996: 16-17). On the other hand, M. Yang argues from a Foccauldian perspective that guanxi, “exerts a subversive effect on the microtechniques of administrative power” because it sustains a civil society (Yan 1996: 17-18). Thus, there exist multiple perspectives on the role of guanxi as a tactic of resistance or subordination against power practices.
To further analyze the effects of particularist ties on power relations, one must observe the effect concerning a field of symbolic power, such as popular memory. Indeed, Jun Jing sets up a dichotomy between “official memory” and “popular memory” as two opposing forms of social memory (1996: 16). According to Jing, critiques of “official memory” explore “how public notions of memory are manipulated by dominant sectors of society through mass media, the education system, mainstream art, public commemorations, and committees of official chronologists (1996: 16). On the other hand, “popular memory” involves “the elusive and often semi-secret views of history shared by members of certain social segments who do not necessarily adhere to the dominant, public, or official representations of the past” (Jing 1996: 16). Consequently, the invocation of social memory leads to the cementing of identity against dominant cultures (Jing 1996: 17). Indeed, in China, “local history is entwined with the identities of descent-based groups” (Jing 1996: 17-18). Moreover, the political resistance arising during periods of remembrance for popular leaders such as Zhou Enlai and Hu Yaobang demonstrates a hidden system of memory running counter to the official party line and suggests that popular memory can play a significant role in shaping opposition to official doctrines and policies (Jing 1996: 169). Finally, Jun Jing interprets the construction of a new Confucius Temple in Dachuan as a monument to popular memories in opposition to the official discourse concerning the benefits of state-imposed dam project and in memory of the people’s suffering from these projects and other socialist experiments (Jing 1996: 171). Consequently, popular memory allows for symbolic resistance against hegemonic domination of the past.
Another interesting employment of particularist ties, fengshui, merits examination for its effect on the symbolic dimension of power. Indeed, a geomancer manages to resist official ideology because he “both maintains a local tradition of knowledge radically diverging from state rationalism and at the same time monopolizes its interpretation” (Bruun 2002: 136). Moreover, by supporting an unofficial ideology, fengshui specialists dilute central government hegemony. Consequently, “most people agree that no single religion or creed occupies a dominant position, be it Communism, Buddhism or the broad field of popular religion” (Bruun 2002: 142). Therefore, “it is highly uncommon for people to attribute any exclusive truth to bodies of ideology, knowledge or religion” (Bruun 2002: 160). Thus, counter-intuitively, fengshui and Communism receive the same level of skepticism from their “subscribers” (Bruun 2002: 160). In addition, the allotment of land with good fengshui by local government demonstrates the involvement of local government with “superstitious practices”, because despite official condemnations, government cannot fully ignore popular complaints against the loss of good fengshui (Bruun 2002: 130). Specifically, the state-imposed ban on burial has become merely a burial tax because of the influence of fengshui (Bruun 2002: 153). Thus, fenghsui coerces power structures into accommodations. Finally, the involvement of former cadres and the pragmatic acceptance of fengshui in order to lure investment points to the success of fengshui as a symbolic system which official policies must maneuver around and with (Bruun 2002: 157). Therefore, fengshui acts as a destabilizer against systems of total ideological commitment, including official Communist ideology.
The social practices surrounding bowling in Shenzhen demonstrate yet another symbolic field for the exercise of power and resistance. Thus, bowling allows entrepreneurs engaging in rule-breaking to obtain the consent of state officials (Wang 2000: 260). In doing so, they carve a symbolic space in which their actions appeared legitimate, or even socially beneficial. Moreover, Wang points out how “state officials with low nominal incomes could host luxury leisure activities with financial help from their entrepreneur friends; the officials could later use their bureaucratic power to return the favor” (Wang 2000: 259). Thus, the association of entrepreneurs with cadres while playing together represents a tacit recognition that state authority alone cannot grant success, prestige, and power (Wang 2000: 260). Indeed, by relying upon entrepreneur friends to foot the bill, the power and prestige of state officials diminishes. Finally, the use of the term “friend” allows for the codification of a system of extra-legal and non-state supported alliances between entrepreneurs, state-enterprise managers, and private entrepreneurs (Wang 2000: 260). Indeed, this codification becomes increasingly more elaborate as a distinction arise between “friends”, who are connections with prestige, and “acquaintances”, who are connections without prestige but who could provide access to necessary resources (Wang 2000: 261). Thus, bowling in Shenzhen creates a symbolic space in which groups and individuals manipulate the symbols of prestige to generate an apparent equality between state officials and others.
Finally, symbolic resistance transpires every time individuals or groups employ gift-giving relations to subvert or avoid officially-sanctioned methods. Thus, instead of turning to the party for support, “whenever a villager needs help in daily life he or she will first turn to those who are within his or her network of personal connections” (Yan 1996: 68). Indeed, Yunxiang Yan refers to one villager describing flattery gifts to cadres with scorn (1996: 69). Moreover, “gift giving has been used as the most important weapon to establish networks of particularistic ties and has resulted in the presence of a gift economy alongside the state redistributive system” (Yan 1996: 69). Indeed, while there are certain forms of instrumental-gift giving which villagers looked down on, commodity exchanges appear acceptable and often admirable as a means to subvert official state channels (Yan 1996: 70). Thus, Yan cites the example of one village community forming a committee for the exploration of potential backdoor subversions (1996: 71). Consequently, it appears that instrumental gift-giving is perfectly acceptable for exploiting particularist connections with those beyond one’s community; yet, villagers look down on this practice within the village (Yan 1996: 71-72). Indeed, this social stigma appears in the example of the two villagers competing for a college recommendation, and demonstrates how some individuals may employ particularist ties to benefit themselves relative to their peers, but the power relation towards cadres remains (Yan 1996: 166). Consequently, the effects of gift-giving relations are ambiguous and sustain both subordination and resistance.
Moreover, it is important to note that, in addition to symbolic resistance, close, particularist connections can also facilitate symbolic subordination through the preclusion of domestic privacy. Indeed, before domestic privacy became widespread in one Northeastern village, “cadres seemingly had the right to enter any home without the notifying the host in advance” (Yan 2003: 126). Moreover, Yan asserts that “at the same time that the family has become less accessible to the public and more private, social intimacy among neighbors has declined” (2003: 126). In addition, the development of domestic privacy facilitates and sustains youth subcultures (Yan 2003: 130). Indeed, the increased privacy leads to an end of spatial hierarchies within the home based on age and gender (Yan 2003: 131). Perhaps most tellingly, villagers describe the effects of increased domestic privacy in terms of freedom (ziyou) and “being able to do whatever you want” (xiang gansha jiu gansha) (Yan 2003: 135). Indeed, the creation of domestic privacy, inverts previous power dynamics by granting a privilege of the rich to the majority of villagers (Yan 2003: 137). Thus, privacy became universalized instead of a byproduct of power relations (Yan 2003: 137). Finally, Yan concludes that increasing domestic privacy “reflects a growing sense of entitlement to individual rights in private life” (2003: 139). Thus, particularist connections within a village community actually support symbolic subordination by opening personal spaces for government intrusion and supervision.
In addition to symbolic subordination through encroachments on domestic space, particularist connections have historically been a method through which Chinese elites ruled through ritual instead of law. Thus, it is important to note that “a rule of ritual” cannot be equated with “a rule of people” (Fei 1992: 95-96). Indeed, Fei Xiaotong describes how communities accumulate traditions and rituals over long periods of development and perfection, and asserts that these practices cannot be created instantaneously from scratch (1992: 97). Moreover, Fei highlights the pragmatic nature of these rituals and how their performance and sustenance does not require deep understanding: “As long as the environment does not change… this ‘method without theory’ will always work. Because such methods work, there is no reason to seek the causes of their effectiveness” (1992: 98). Consequently, unquestioning acceptance of traditional practices shapes not only one’s actions, but perceptions of what actions are available. Indeed, “if you act in violation of rituals, your action is not only immoral but incorrect, and it will not bring about a desired result” (Fei 1992: 99). Moreover, Fei analyzes Confucius’s use of the terms restrain (ke) and bind (yue) to assert, “‘a rule of rituals’ does not occur in the absence of society, does not stem from natural human instincts, and does not depend on directions from heaven” (1992: 100). Thus, ritual and the particularist connections sustaining it provide the powerful with a particularly effective means of social control, due to ritual’s ability to influence and shape perceptions concerning the possibility of alternatives and the efficacy of resistance.
However, consideration of village and county level economic cooperation demonstrates the potential for material resistance through particularist ties. Indeed, Huang found, “several village families, often related by blood or marriage ties, working together to harvest rice or build a new house” (1989: 131). Juxtaposed to this harmonious cooperation among families is the constant presence of state propaganda (Huang 1989: 131). Indeed, in Lin Village, it was only after local government shifted concern from political dogma towards economic cooperation that non-cadres gained a vote and the ability to run in work team elections (Huang 1989: 136-137). Consequently, these early elections demonstrate the depth of resentment towards central government at the time (Huang 1989: 137). Indeed, even cadres such as Village Party Secretary Ye articulate opposition to the central government with statements such as, “The fundamental problem in the countryside is the Communist Party itself” (Huang 1989: 137). Moreover, according to P.S. Ye, the central factor in the success of the Lin Village brigade is harmonious social relations (Huang 1989: 143). Thus, when the central government supply of lumber proved inadequate, P.S. Ye employed his connections with another cadre and secured a large supply of second-hand lumber (Huang 1989: 144). Indeed, even by facilitating resource trades between two unconnected nodes of a social network, a brigade can secure a construction contract (Huang 1989: 145). Moreover, connections to the city government grant villagers access to economically sensitive information (Huang 1989: 147). Indeed, the shift towards pragmatism has altered the face of government to the point at which Andrew Walder had “the impression, in meetings with two successive county magistrates, that [he] was talking to a beer company executive rather than a government official” (Walder 1998: 80). Consequently, renewed emphasis on economic cooperation through particularist ties has muted political incursions into the lives of villagers.
Moreover, the case of Wenzhou migrants presents another example of how particularist ties facilitate economic resistance. Indeed, Zhang describes how immigrants and local residents cooperated to find housing, despite the illegalities of this cooperation (2001: 84). Consequently, “bribery and corruption can also be understood as forms of popular resistance to the state monopoly on economic and social life” (Zhang 2001: 84). On the other hand, several studies have suggested that clientelism does not necessarily erode state power (Zhang 2001: 84). Yet, according to Zhang, clientilism still “blurs the boundaries between society and state (2001: 84). Thus, particularist social networks allow for autonomous political structures, independent of central supervision and direction (Zhang 2001: 95). Indeed, the example of Zhen Laoban demonstrates how with the pooling of capital and other resources through particularist bonds, immigrants could spatially evade state control, through the construction of housing compounds (Zhang 2001: 96). Indeed, through economic success, immigrants could even acquire connections to officials as powerful as the brother-in-law of the first president of the PRC (Zhang 2001: 103). Moreover, economic success allowed immigrant leaders to bribe officials in order to protect their friends from eviction (Zhang 2001: 108). In addition, by supporting his home community, an immigrant boss could receive state rewards (Zhang 2001: 109). However, in the final analysis, Zhang concludes, “through the commodification of local bureaucratic power, private entrepreneurs increase their bargaining power with and influence on local state agents, but at the same time local state agents are able to penetrate more deeply into the private business sphere and gain access to new economic resources” (2001: 110). However, the cooperation between cadres and immigrant bosses “was officially deemed ‘corruption’” (Zhang 2001: 114). Thus, economic cooperation through particularist ties sustains practices contrary to official state policies and directives; yet, this defiance is performed under the guidance and in the interest of state officials.
Particularist ties also benefit private enterprises, despite the obstacles posed by government. Indeed, particularist ties allow for the recruitment of cheap labor because poor, rural relatives are always willing to work for a chance to live in a city (Bruun 1993: 58). Indeed, even if only a few family members are registered as owners of a business, they can still call upon other family members to assist them during peak hours (Bruun 1993: 61). However, the role of family becomes even more important once one considers how family members take on state jobs in order to ensure a steady, though meager income, as well as a pension (Bruun 1993: 62-63). Moreover, employment in a state unit can grant access to useful resources for the family business, although in many cases, expropriation of these resources is illegal (Bruun 1993: 64). In addition, as business owners age and as their businesses expand, management of new franchise becomes the purview of younger generations (Bruun 1993: 96). Moreover, Yan demonstrates how particularist ties can grant access to necessary resources and ensure protection for village agricultural entrepreneurs against local cadres (1996: 237). Thus, particularist ties are immensely useful for the accumulation of capital and the organization of businesses. Consequently, these ties represent a strategy for power equalization employed by small business owners against the oversight and control of government.
It is also important to note how personalist ties allow small enterprises to bypass official regulations and policies. This seems especially useful for people subject to arbitrary bureaucratic practices regarding, “permits, implementation of regulations, and participation in illegal economic activities” (Bruun 1993: 125). However, this arbitrariness is most significant regarding the issue of tax collection (Bruun 1993: 125). Moreover, Bruun points out how, “the law is identical to the officials in power, and legality is their specific way of employing such power” (1993: 127). Thus, personal connections to these individuals can be very useful for those wishing to circumvent official methods. Indeed, Bruun cites the example of a hookah manufacturer whose connections allow for the cheap purchase of a material distributed to only a few key state industries (1993: 128). However, local government only interferes with these illegalities in order to siphon some of the profits away (Bruun 1993: 128). The implication is that punishment can be avoided so long as one cultivates connections with cadres. Indeed, according to Wang, “having friends in the government who can warn of upcoming campaigns to crack down on violators or even remove names from blacklists is especially important” (Wang 2000: 260). Moreover, the very execution of the law in one’s favor requires social connections, as demonstrated by Bruun’s example concerning the young girl who was cheated by peasants (1993: 128-129). Moreover, the example of Dr. Zhong demonstrates how a successful business and the consequent personal connections can allow for open defiance of authorities (Bruun 1993: 131). In contrast, the plastic container and labels manufacturer presents an example of how refusal to participate in the cultivation of social networks can lead to serious business obstacles (Bruun: 1993: 132). Consequently, social connections are a useful instrument for the evasion of official regulations and allow for the continued and successful operation of business, even if they are illegal.
However, it appears that the necessity of personal connections creates a reliance upon the powerful, rather than challenging them. Indeed, Wang asserts that, “entrepreneurs need protection from state officials”, demonstrating how employment of personal connections with cadres is not necessarily a bonus by-product of friendship, but rather a necessity that one must pursue (Wang 2000: 259). Thus, according to P.S. Ye, “without proper connections, you can do nothing in China” (Huang 1989: 138). Moreover, Yan asserts that cultivating a gift-giving relationship with superiors can assist villagers, “but only when subordinates go beyond conventional gift giving to establish a special relationship with their superiors” (1996: 165). Thus, individuals must extend themselves in order to actually benefit from personal connections to their superiors. Indeed, Yan describes how individuals must give gifts to their superiors through intermediaries, and thus gift-giving and the ensuing social connection is almost a privilege (1996: 171). As a result, one cannot view vertical social connections as a strategy for success; rather, individuals and groups are forced to pursue this strategy as the only means of success. Consequently, personal connections may be more of a hindrance than a help because they are entered into out of necessity rather than conscious choice.
Moreover, much evidence demonstrates how social connections are materially asymmetrical, and thus more of an instrument for power than resistance. Indeed, Yan points how receiving gifts bestows prestige, not giving them (1996: 148). Moreover, the majority of Xiajia villages spent 500 yuan or more every year on gift-giving (Yan 1996: 148). In addition, Yan describes how villagers felt obligated to attend the banquets of their superiors; however, these same villagers did not invite their superiors, thus allowing these superiors to avoid the necessity of a reciprocal gift (1996: 153). However, cadres pretended that these asymmetries never occurred (Yan 1996: 154). On the other hand, cadres engaged in the same type of vertical and asymmetrical forms of gift-giving with their own superiors (Yan 1996: 156). In this case, cadres were quite cognizant of the asymmetry, as demonstrated by the complaint of one cadre concerning his superior’s father: “this man knows nothing about renqing” (Yan 1996: 157). Indeed, Yan describes how unlike feudal landlords or local officials before 1949, rural cadres have much greater control over the lives of villagers, and thus the asymmetries of gift-giving are even more pronounced (1996: 163). Consequently, asymmetrical gift-giving demonstrates yet another means by which social connections lead to subordination with the material dimension of power.
Finally, it is important to note how conceptions of power in China are contingent upon social connections, and that individuals with extensive social networks are most often a reflection of pre-existing power structures. Indeed, “village cadres usually possess the largest networks of personal relations” (Yan 1996: 154). Moreover, cadres have the ability to engage in vertical gift-giving with their superiors and this grants them even more asymmetrical connections with subordinates (Yan 1996: 168). Moreover, only a rich market boss could ever have a social connection as lucrative as the one between Hu and Wang Guangying (Zhang 2001: 103). In addition, Bruun points out how retired cadres are most successful in employing guanxi to build a private business (1993: 87). Moreover, Bruun asserts that, “far more difficult than using previously established social respectability in business is attaining respectability from business itself” (1993: 89). Moreover, the inferior social position of minor businesses creates a situation in which only local, petty officials of the formal hierarchy can feasibly expand their business beyond a certain limit (Bruun 1993: 92). In addition, it appears that education is an important asset for the acquisition of social connections, and thus many individuals are at a relative disadvantage (Bruun 1993: 98). Indeed, the relation of well-connected cadres to connection-seeking entrepreneurs is analogous to the relation between these same entrepreneurs and many of their clients (Bruun 1993: 135). Thus, a dichotomy between government and governed is problematic because it does not consider the power of subordination enacted by non-cadre entrepreneurs against other non-cadres. Consequently, social networks in China are a purview of the already powerful and only rarely can one extend oneself beyond certain institutionally constructed limits.
Thus, social connections are intimately connected to exercises of power in China and provide the social field through which subordination and resistance take shape. Indeed, social networks provide ample opportunity for symbolic resistance by creating solidarity between individuals against the powerful. At the same time, these connections can also be used as an instrument for symbolic subordination. On the other hand, particularist ties facilitate material resistance as well as social mobility. However, the necessity of these ties, the pre-arrangement of networks in favor of the powerful, and the asymmetry of vertical connections actually cement subordination and prevent resistance. In the end, one cannot conclude that Chinese social relations lend themselves exclusively to either resistance or subordination.