August 15, 2001

(CNN) -- An essay-writing test in last month's college entrance exam in China has elicited unexpectedly widespread attention.

Students sitting for the Chinese language exam were asked to write on the significance of chengxin ("honesty and trustworthiness").

The question went like this: "A youth crossing the river on a raft must throw away one of seven rucksacks he is carrying: "health," "beauty," "chengxin," "dexterity," "knowledge," "money" and "honor."

"After some deliberation, the youth jettisoned chengxin. What do you think?"

The larger question of whether there is chengxin left in Chinese society has struck such a chord of resonance that numerous teachers, social scientists and pundits have sounded off in the media.

Honesty and trust

The chat-room of the People's Daily website has drawn hundreds of response after it invited readers to comment on "how far we are from [the ideal of] chengxin."

A researcher at the Chinese Academy of Social Sciences (CASS) wrote: "Once society has lost the sense of honesty and trust, one can't imagine what a world it will become."

Events in the past two months or so have shown the CASS expert's worries are fully justified.

China is on the brink of a chengxin crisis that threatens not only to tear asunder its moral fabric but derail economic and political reforms.

Ironically, the absence of honesty and good faith was best illustrated by a spate of scandals surrounding the college entrance exam.

Liu Qiong, a bright university kid who illegally took the exam for a student in No. 1 High School in Cao County, Shandong Province, told this story to the China Youth Daily.

'Flagrant violation' "I was flabbergasted while taking the Chinese language exam," he said.

"I was asked to write about chengxin. Yet the very act of cheating at exams was a flagrant violation of trust."

It turned out that double-dealing was so institutionalized at No. 1 High School that the headmaster had an elaborate game-plan for engaging outside help for "needy" students.

After the Cao County scam broke, the Education Ministry and the China Youth Daily have received hundreds of letters and telephone calls from students and parents giving details of similar monkey business in several provinces.

If there are students galore who hoodwink their way into college, there is no lack of fraudulent diplomas.

Fake products

Guangdong's Education Department recently found at least one-sixth of certificates circulating in the province were bogus.

In the past month, dozens of government departments have been chasing down thousands of cases of fake products ranging from liquor and medicine to TV sets and computers.

Health authorities in Guangdong earlier this month confiscated 300 tonnes of 42 different brands of inferior-quality or even poisonous rice.

Since February, 470 million yuan worth of counterfeit currencies have been found.

No less serious is the plague of sham statistics, often confected by cadres to hide shameful deeds and embarrassing incidents.

Chinese sickened by the recent spate of fires, explosions, and horrendous industrial and traffic accidents are even more outraged by efforts by officials to cover them up.

Madman responsible

Last March, both domestic and foreign observers were shocked when Premier Zhu Rongji, deemed a cadre with a high chengxin quotient, claimed a madman was responsible for the fire that killed 42 school children in a school in Jiangxi Province.

Then came the even more alarming tin mine accident in Nandan county, Guangxi Province last month, which claimed more than 100 lives.

Officials hired thugs to chase away reporters in an attempt to cover up the disaster, a result of lax safety standards.

Indeed, cooking the books has become an ingrained bureaucratic art. To please superiors or escape punishment, cadres embellish production and other figures at will.

As for officials in Qianjiang city, Hubei Province, they even lied about the relatively minor phenomenon of pupils quitting school prematurely.

A China News Service (CNS) commentator had this to say about the Qianjiang cadres: "In this day and age, anything can be faked."

The profusion of fraudulence and chicanery, however, means much more than that Chinese having to be extra wary about the quality of products -- or official statistics.

Good faith

The lack of chengxin has damaged China's ability to transform itself into a market-oriented society.

Apart from the availability of capital -- and the absence of government interference -- a market economy presupposes a basic level of trustworthiness and good faith.

For instance, something as fundamental as a credit system can't function if companies keep deferring loan repayments and consumers don't pay for goods they have acquired via charge cards.

Last weekend, the China Securities Regulatory Commission kicked off a dajia ("stop the fakes") campaign to prevent the stock markets from becoming what pundits call a "gamblers' paradise."

One reason Chinese firms are scared of accession to the World Trade Organization is that in the eyes of consumers, foreign companies have much better chengxin track records.

Take Chinese insurance companies, which, according to the CNS, are in the throes of a chengxin crisis because they often fail to honor agreements with clients.

Bribery or connections

Is there any doubt that post-WTO, consumers will flock to multinational insurers?

The prevalence of duplicity and bad faith is also the millstone round the neck of political modernization.

Take for instance the large numbers of officials who have secured their positions through bribery or special connections.

In the past month, scandals involving crooks buying posts of mayors and county chiefs have been reported in areas ranging from coastal Guangdong to Shanxi in the interior.

Analysts have also cast doubt about the chengxin of officials attending the leadership meetings at the Beidaihe resort.

Wholesale changing

For example, whatever happened to the pledge, made by top cadres including President Jiang Zemin at the 15th party congress in 1997, that they would observe the retire-at-70 rule.

Jiang, 75, kept mum when asked by the New York Times last week about his plans at the upcoming 16th Communist party congress, which should in theory witness the wholesale changing of the guard.

Supporters of Premier Zhu are also disturbed by reports that the 72-year-old may succumb to lobbying by his followers and agree to stay in a top post for five more years.

Owing to the dearth of chengxin in the media, most Chinese -- including high school students -- have no means of learning about their leaders' shenanigans.

It is nonetheless instructive to take a look at the essay on chengxin penned by Nanjing student Jiang Xinjie, which scored an unprecedented full marks.

Writing in classical Chinese, Jiang told the story of Chi Tu, the mighty steed of legendary General Guan Yu in the Period of the Three Kingdoms.

After Guan was captured in the year 221, the faithful Chi Tu starved to death rather than serve another master.

Isn't it a pathetic comment on the times that in the eyes of a 17-year-old student, chengxin could only be found centuries back -- and in a horse?

http://asia.cnn.com/2001/WORLD/asiapcf/east/08/14/willy.column/index.html