Panel 5 

set them apart from the bulk of their PLA comrades. It is not out of the question that such

divisions and the resultant envy could cause

serious morale and discipline problems within

the ranks.

The Social Contract

Aspiring to a better-educated military

force also refocuses target areas for recruitment from the countryside to the cities and

from poorer areas to wealthier ones, mirroring

the evolution occurring throughout Chinese

society as the nation’s changing economic and

social structures force new labor market practices. In China, most universities and other

institutions of higher learning are found in

large, usually relatively wealthy, urban areas.

More importantly, most students attending

adequate secondary schools or institutions of

higher learning come from urban areas where

schooling is better and where individuals are

more likely to have an opportunity to attend

school. By contrast, a middle school education

remains the norm for much of rural China; in

very poor areas, in fact, many children do not

even reach or make it past primary school. By

some estimates, there may be as many as 30

million illiterates in China today.

Conversely, there are already clear signs

that a new privileged class is arising in China’s

wealthier urban enclaves, formed from the

children of party cadre, government officials,

military officials, and successful entrepreneurs.

Children from these “better families” have

significant potential advantages: private tutors,

special schools, a head start in networking,

greater access to news and information about

the outside world, and even more opportunities

for direct contact with foreigners. In time,

disadvantaged social classes, seeing the military door increasingly closed to them, could

come to feel they have lost a traditional economic escape route. They could begin to resent

perceived losses of opportunity, especially if

economic reforms do not live up to expectations about improving the quality of life in

rural and poorer urban areas, and if those

opportunities are lost to those envied as already

being much better off.

A related potential danger lies in the

possible consequences of a backlash from

retired old-order military retirees if, as is likely,

these individuals lose the benefits and influence they traditionally enjoyed through networking and if social and economic gulfs

widen between them and the new PLA generation. Once disaffected, this group poses a tangible threat to internal stability: they represent

the one segment of Chinese society most likely

to be capable of organizing, planning, and

acting on their own.

Indeed, for China’s leaders, one of the

most worrisome aspects of the Falun Gong

movement in China is the number of older,

disaffected individuals with military and

paramilitary backgrounds active in the organization.3 Falun Gong, an unsanctioned popular

movement (now officially banned), seemingly

sprang full blown onto the Chinese stage

almost overnight. The movement exhibited a

high degree of organization and discipline—a

shock to Chinese officials, who quickly saw it

as a potentially serious political danger. The

added realization that Falun Gong had gained

these strengths because of its strong appeal for

that segment of the Chinese population most

likely to possess organizational and tactical

skills only added to the nightmare.

The ascendancy of an urban educated

class within the PLA has the potential to alter

the basic focus of PLA networking activities.

Networking is certainly not new to China’s

military: historically, networking focused on

exploiting party relationships, internal factional

alliances, and revolutionary bonds. But given

the postulated evolution in the PLA population,

it is not farfetched to suppose that PLA networking activities might take on a different focus,

one that favors economic dealings and financial accommodations over traditional political

and ideological arrangements.

Events in recent history lend credence to

this supposition: the widespread and enthusiastic PLA foray into economic ventures—an

activity that occupied the military’s attention

through much of the last decade—stimulated

a new appreciation for networking that produced economic advantage and material gain.

It also fueled an astonishing predisposition for

corruption; local grapevines in many areas

buzzed with reports of gun battles between

business-rival units, strong-arm tactics against

local civilian businesses, extortion, and payoffs.

These unwelcome side effects, deep reaching and corrosive, led China’s most senior

leaders to order the PLA to remove itself from

the business arena. There is still vigorous debate

about the exact degree to which the PLA obeyed

orders to divest itself of economic-commercial

entanglements (or whether it simply dumped

nonperformers and disguised “keepers”).

It is interesting that senior PLA delegates

to the 16th CCP Congress went on record as

being squarely behind Jiang Zemin’s call to

welcome entrepreneurs and capitalists into the

party and as being ready to “firmly establish

the guiding principle of Jiang’s Three Representations Theory in the army.” The PLA accounts for a sizeable segment of CCP membership, and there is a growing implication that

the party is shaping a new role for itself as

China’s main entrepreneurial facilitator and

influence broker. Should the CCP experiment

in this direction spin out of control, the PLA

traditional value system could easily break

down as its leaders become caught up in the

“new” CCP identity. One possible, and ironic,

outcome of the transformational process now

taking place is that the PLA could evolve into

the defender of and a stakeholder in a new

Chinese plutocracy: the stakes for the CCP are

high, perhaps involving even survival itself.

Looking Ahead

Possible PLA modernization scenarios are

many and varied. The armed forces could end

up differently than current leaders envision:

■ From the party point of view, modernization

in the best of all worlds not only produces a strong

military but also reinforces existing PLA–CCP

bonds (thus giving Beijing a more efficient and

flexible tool for enforcing CCP political will at

home), while simultaneously making China

capable of assuming a respectable military posture

internationally. This result is probably the hardest

to achieve, as it implies a certain amount of sophistication in striking the fine balance between

the different philosophies and worldviews appropriate for undertaking both external and internal

missions within the same force, while minimizing

frictions within that force and instilling trust

between it and society in general.

■ The PLA might become a professional,

national military force, divorced from the party

and loyal to the concept of the nation-state, forcing a restructuring of the relationship that currently exists between China’s political and military

establishments.

■ The PLA could evolve into a CCP rival,

insisting on substantial power sharing.

■ Going a step further, the PLA might even

appropriate to itself the role of China’s premier

authority, supplanting the CCP entirely and defining

state needs and benefits as synonymous with its own.

■ Less damaging to the party, but more harmful to China as a state, the PLA could stumble in its

No. 204, December 2003 Strategic Forum 5 
Panel 2 

PLA leadership remains basically politically

inflexible, unimaginative, and probably ignorant of the actual requirements and effects of

real change, even as younger generations of

field-grade officers—who are likely to be the

primary enactors and beneficiaries of modernization—have begun to exhibit nationalistic

tendencies and interpretations of PLA roles in

strategic deliberations and foreign policy

increasingly at variance with those traditionally held by their elders.

Beijing’s Blueprint

China’s grand ambition is to be the premier power in Asia by 2015 and to wield considerable worldwide authority by 2050. It has

partially achieved this ambition through a

combination of skillful diplomacy and a relatively successful program of domestic economic

reform. But it still lacks the third leg of the

tripod that supports any great state: a respected,

competent military capable of credibly projecting power outside national borders and reinforcing policy initiatives in the international arena.

Beijing has long realized that a powerful

military component is a prerequisite to

achieving global prominence. But despite this

recognition, for over two decades, China’s

leaders, including its military commanders,

opted for a pragmatic approach to national

development that subordinated large-scale

military modernization to what were perceived

as higher-order needs.

Forcefully advocated by late Paramount

Leader Deng Xiaoping, the subornation of

military to national developmental priorities

occasionally led to heated internal debates on

the direction of economic reform or the scope

of infrastructure development. But throughout,

there generally was consensus that, absent

needed improvements in the nation’s economic, scientific, and social foundations, the

PLA would be unable to embark on any meaningful, maintainable modernization program.

This policy may also have offered an added, if

indirect and inadvertent, benefit: while it constrained China’s military development over the

short run, it almost certainly provided a respite

during which China’s military establishment

could adjust to changes in Chinese society

overall, gain practical experience in diplomacy

and international military affairs, and become

generally better prepared to absorb the additional social and philosophical changes that

will inevitably accompany future structural

and other professional changes in the PLA.

Deng’s Legacy

Deng Xiaoping’s developmental formula,

with its focus on science, technology, and

economics, largely continues to guide China’s

modernization process. Still, the formula has

experienced a notable change in emphasis,

dating from the 1991 Gulf War, as civilian and

military leaders in Beijing began to understand

the implications of the events they had witnessed. And if the Gulf War was a wake-up call,

the North Atlantic Treaty Organization air

campaign in Kosovo was the dash of cold water

that brought China’s leaders fully awake. Since

then, Chinese military spending has grown in

both absolute and relative terms.

The current leadership has improved

Deng’s quality over quantity reform concept.

It has strengthened both military training and

general education requirements for many

members of the armed forces. It has put more

resources into acquiring cutting-edge military

technology, superior weapons systems, advanced

support equipment, and new infrastructure. It

has shifted its military modernization priorities

slightly in response to new requirements posed

by the changing face of the modern warfighting

environment. Today, China’s air, sea, and other

specialized forces, long the unappreciated lesser

siblings of the politically powerful PLA land

forces, receive greater attention and measurably

larger slices of the military resources pie. This,

in turn, is stimulating a gradual evolution of

the PLA as an institution, prompting new questions about its nature and its mission.

Chinese defense white papers (themselves a

sign of change) speak of preparing for regional

conflict under high-tech conditions and, increasingly, provide data giving a clearer picture

of Chinese military development trends. Admittedly, these documents hide the true amounts

and obscure the real priorities of Chinese defense

spending. Even so, the overall spending trends

shown by the documents are instructive in

revealing China’s commitment to achieving its

goal (see accompanying illustrations).

While still relatively minor in comparison

to the massive social and economic changes

that have swept through Chinese civilian society in general, similar (if somewhat less easily

observable) changes also have occurred in the

PLA over the past decade and can be expected

to be even greater in the foreseeable future.

This, in turn, pulls into new focus potentially

sticky sociopolitical issues concerning the effect

successful modernization will have on the PLA

image, status, and role in society.

Political Acceptability

The ambitious modernization program

that China’s leaders have mapped out could, if

successful, transform the PLA into a streamlined, high-quality national fighting force that

most likely would have a new worldview. To

reach proposed modernization goals, the PLA

will have to undergo major structural changes

in its approach to personnel recruitment and

management, logistics and support operations,

organization and maintenance of specialized

units, professional military education, and

doctrine, to name just a few areas. Even more,

China’s military establishment will likely

experience tremendous social change internally. But the PLA might not be ready for such

changes, which might even be considered

contrary to China’s best interests when examined in the context of the CCP traditional

political-ideological viewpoint.

During the latter half of the 20th century, a

number of countries carried out far-reaching

military restructurings with minimal social or

political mishap. In several cases—the United

States, Great Britain, France, and Canada, for

example—the changes were especially deepreaching, transforming the armed forces in

these nations from large, socially mixed, and

regionally diverse forces heavily dependent on

national conscription to quantitatively smaller,

qualitatively superior, all-volunteer services. In

these cases, most major issues involved the

technical and professional problems associated

with restructuring and changing the missions

of existing military forces historically controlled

by and accountable to national governments.

Social problems, while not entirely nonexistent,

were largely secondary issues. Where such

problems existed, the democratic philosophies

and principles underpinning these societies and

the existing organizational structures in these

militaries generally served to handle them.1

No. 204, December 2003 Strategic Forum 2 

Howard M. Krawitz, a senior foreign service officer, wrote this piece while in residence as a distinguished

visiting research fellow in the Institute for National Strategic Studies at the National Defense University.

Comments and questions may be directed to Mr. Krawitz by email at ndu-inss-research@ndu.edu.
Panel 2 

PLA leadership remains basically politically

inflexible, unimaginative, and probably ignorant of the actual requirements and effects of

real change, even as younger generations of

field-grade officers—who are likely to be the

primary enactors and beneficiaries of modernization—have begun to exhibit nationalistic

tendencies and interpretations of PLA roles in

strategic deliberations and foreign policy

increasingly at variance with those traditionally held by their elders.

Beijing’s Blueprint

China’s grand ambition is to be the premier power in Asia by 2015 and to wield considerable worldwide authority by 2050. It has

partially achieved this ambition through a

combination of skillful diplomacy and a relatively successful program of domestic economic

reform. But it still lacks the third leg of the

tripod that supports any great state: a respected,

competent military capable of credibly projecting power outside national borders and reinforcing policy initiatives in the international arena.

Beijing has long realized that a powerful

military component is a prerequisite to

achieving global prominence. But despite this

recognition, for over two decades, China’s

leaders, including its military commanders,

opted for a pragmatic approach to national

development that subordinated large-scale

military modernization to what were perceived

as higher-order needs.

Forcefully advocated by late Paramount

Leader Deng Xiaoping, the subornation of

military to national developmental priorities

occasionally led to heated internal debates on

the direction of economic reform or the scope

of infrastructure development. But throughout,

there generally was consensus that, absent

needed improvements in the nation’s economic, scientific, and social foundations, the

PLA would be unable to embark on any meaningful, maintainable modernization program.

This policy may also have offered an added, if

indirect and inadvertent, benefit: while it constrained China’s military development over the

short run, it almost certainly provided a respite

during which China’s military establishment

could adjust to changes in Chinese society

overall, gain practical experience in diplomacy

and international military affairs, and become

generally better prepared to absorb the additional social and philosophical changes that

will inevitably accompany future structural

and other professional changes in the PLA.

Deng’s Legacy

Deng Xiaoping’s developmental formula,

with its focus on science, technology, and

economics, largely continues to guide China’s

modernization process. Still, the formula has

experienced a notable change in emphasis,

dating from the 1991 Gulf War, as civilian and

military leaders in Beijing began to understand

the implications of the events they had witnessed. And if the Gulf War was a wake-up call,

the North Atlantic Treaty Organization air

campaign in Kosovo was the dash of cold water

that brought China’s leaders fully awake. Since

then, Chinese military spending has grown in

both absolute and relative terms.

The current leadership has improved

Deng’s quality over quantity reform concept.

It has strengthened both military training and

general education requirements for many

members of the armed forces. It has put more

resources into acquiring cutting-edge military

technology, superior weapons systems, advanced

support equipment, and new infrastructure. It

has shifted its military modernization priorities

slightly in response to new requirements posed

by the changing face of the modern warfighting

environment. Today, China’s air, sea, and other

specialized forces, long the unappreciated lesser

siblings of the politically powerful PLA land

forces, receive greater attention and measurably

larger slices of the military resources pie. This,

in turn, is stimulating a gradual evolution of

the PLA as an institution, prompting new questions about its nature and its mission.

Chinese defense white papers (themselves a

sign of change) speak of preparing for regional

conflict under high-tech conditions and, increasingly, provide data giving a clearer picture

of Chinese military development trends. Admittedly, these documents hide the true amounts

and obscure the real priorities of Chinese defense

spending. Even so, the overall spending trends

shown by the documents are instructive in

revealing China’s commitment to achieving its

goal (see accompanying illustrations).

While still relatively minor in comparison

to the massive social and economic changes

that have swept through Chinese civilian society in general, similar (if somewhat less easily

observable) changes also have occurred in the

PLA over the past decade and can be expected

to be even greater in the foreseeable future.

This, in turn, pulls into new focus potentially

sticky sociopolitical issues concerning the effect

successful modernization will have on the PLA

image, status, and role in society.

Political Acceptability

The ambitious modernization program

that China’s leaders have mapped out could, if

successful, transform the PLA into a streamlined, high-quality national fighting force that

most likely would have a new worldview. To

reach proposed modernization goals, the PLA

will have to undergo major structural changes

in its approach to personnel recruitment and

management, logistics and support operations,

organization and maintenance of specialized

units, professional military education, and

doctrine, to name just a few areas. Even more,

China’s military establishment will likely

experience tremendous social change internally. But the PLA might not be ready for such

changes, which might even be considered

contrary to China’s best interests when examined in the context of the CCP traditional

political-ideological viewpoint.

During the latter half of the 20th century, a

number of countries carried out far-reaching

military restructurings with minimal social or

political mishap. In several cases—the United

States, Great Britain, France, and Canada, for

example—the changes were especially deepreaching, transforming the armed forces in

these nations from large, socially mixed, and

regionally diverse forces heavily dependent on

national conscription to quantitatively smaller,

qualitatively superior, all-volunteer services. In

these cases, most major issues involved the

technical and professional problems associated

with restructuring and changing the missions

of existing military forces historically controlled

by and accountable to national governments.

Social problems, while not entirely nonexistent,

were largely secondary issues. Where such

problems existed, the democratic philosophies

and principles underpinning these societies and

the existing organizational structures in these

militaries generally served to handle them.1

No. 204, December 2003 Strategic Forum 2 

Howard M. Krawitz, a senior foreign service officer, wrote this piece while in residence as a distinguished

visiting research fellow in the Institute for National Strategic Studies at the National Defense University.

Comments and questions may be directed to Mr. Krawitz by email at ndu-inss-research@ndu.edu.
Panel 2 

PLA leadership remains basically politically

inflexible, unimaginative, and probably ignorant of the actual requirements and effects of

real change, even as younger generations of

field-grade officers—who are likely to be the

primary enactors and beneficiaries of modernization—have begun to exhibit nationalistic

tendencies and interpretations of PLA roles in

strategic deliberations and foreign policy

increasingly at variance with those traditionally held by their elders.

Beijing’s Blueprint

China’s grand ambition is to be the premier power in Asia by 2015 and to wield considerable worldwide authority by 2050. It has

partially achieved this ambition through a

combination of skillful diplomacy and a relatively successful program of domestic economic

reform. But it still lacks the third leg of the

tripod that supports any great state: a respected,

competent military capable of credibly projecting power outside national borders and reinforcing policy initiatives in the international arena.

Beijing has long realized that a powerful

military component is a prerequisite to

achieving global prominence. But despite this

recognition, for over two decades, China’s

leaders, including its military commanders,

opted for a pragmatic approach to national

development that subordinated large-scale

military modernization to what were perceived

as higher-order needs.

Forcefully advocated by late Paramount

Leader Deng Xiaoping, the subornation of

military to national developmental priorities

occasionally led to heated internal debates on

the direction of economic reform or the scope

of infrastructure development. But throughout,

there generally was consensus that, absent

needed improvements in the nation’s economic, scientific, and social foundations, the

PLA would be unable to embark on any meaningful, maintainable modernization program.

This policy may also have offered an added, if

indirect and inadvertent, benefit: while it constrained China’s military development over the

short run, it almost certainly provided a respite

during which China’s military establishment

could adjust to changes in Chinese society

overall, gain practical experience in diplomacy

and international military affairs, and become

generally better prepared to absorb the additional social and philosophical changes that

will inevitably accompany future structural

and other professional changes in the PLA.

Deng’s Legacy

Deng Xiaoping’s developmental formula,

with its focus on science, technology, and

economics, largely continues to guide China’s

modernization process. Still, the formula has

experienced a notable change in emphasis,

dating from the 1991 Gulf War, as civilian and

military leaders in Beijing began to understand

the implications of the events they had witnessed. And if the Gulf War was a wake-up call,

the North Atlantic Treaty Organization air

campaign in Kosovo was the dash of cold water

that brought China’s leaders fully awake. Since

then, Chinese military spending has grown in

both absolute and relative terms.

The current leadership has improved

Deng’s quality over quantity reform concept.

It has strengthened both military training and

general education requirements for many

members of the armed forces. It has put more

resources into acquiring cutting-edge military

technology, superior weapons systems, advanced

support equipment, and new infrastructure. It

has shifted its military modernization priorities

slightly in response to new requirements posed

by the changing face of the modern warfighting

environment. Today, China’s air, sea, and other

specialized forces, long the unappreciated lesser

siblings of the politically powerful PLA land

forces, receive greater attention and measurably

larger slices of the military resources pie. This,

in turn, is stimulating a gradual evolution of

the PLA as an institution, prompting new questions about its nature and its mission.

Chinese defense white papers (themselves a

sign of change) speak of preparing for regional

conflict under high-tech conditions and, increasingly, provide data giving a clearer picture

of Chinese military development trends. Admittedly, these documents hide the true amounts

and obscure the real priorities of Chinese defense

spending. Even so, the overall spending trends

shown by the documents are instructive in

revealing China’s commitment to achieving its

goal (see accompanying illustrations).

While still relatively minor in comparison

to the massive social and economic changes

that have swept through Chinese civilian society in general, similar (if somewhat less easily

observable) changes also have occurred in the

PLA over the past decade and can be expected

to be even greater in the foreseeable future.

This, in turn, pulls into new focus potentially

sticky sociopolitical issues concerning the effec

successful modernization will have on the PLA

image, status, and role in society.

Political Acceptability

The ambitious modernization program

that China’s leaders have mapped out could, if

successful, transform the PLA into a streamlined, high-quality national fighting force that

most likely would have a new worldview. To

reach proposed modernization goals, the PLA

will have to undergo major structural changes

in its approach to personnel recruitment and

management, logistics and support operations,

organization and maintenance of specialized

units, professional military education, and

doctrine, to name just a few areas. Even more,

China’s military establishment will likely

experience tremendous social change internally. But the PLA might not be ready for such

changes, which might even be considered

contrary to China’s best interests when examined in the context of the CCP traditional

political-ideological viewpoint.

During the latter half of the 20th century, a

number of countries carried out far-reaching

military restructurings with minimal social or

political mishap. In several cases—the United

States, Great Britain, France, and Canada, for

example—the changes were especially deepreaching, transforming the armed forces in

these nations from large, socially mixed, and

regionally diverse forces heavily dependent on

national conscription to quantitatively smaller,

qualitatively superior, all-volunteer services. In

these cases, most major issues involved the

technical and professional problems associated

with restructuring and changing the missions

of existing military forces historically controlled

by and accountable to national governments.

Social problems, while not entirely nonexistent,

were largely secondary issues. Where such

problems existed, the democratic philosophies

and principles underpinning these societies and

the existing organizational structures in these

militaries generally served to handle them.1

No. 204, December 2003 Strategic Forum 2 

Howard M. Krawitz, a senior foreign service officer, wrote this piece while in residence as a distinguished

visiting research fellow in the Institute for National Strategic Studies at the National Defense University.

Comments and questions may be directed to Mr. Krawitz by email at ndu-inss-research@ndu.edu.
Panel 5 

set them apart from the bulk of their PLA comrades. It is not out of the question that such

divisions and the resultant envy could cause

serious morale and discipline problems within

the ranks.

The Social Contract

Aspiring to a better-educated military

force also refocuses target areas for recruitment from the countryside to the cities and

from poorer areas to wealthier ones, mirroring

the evolution occurring throughout Chinese

society as the nation’s changing economic and

social structures force new labor market practices. In China, most universities and other

institutions of higher learning are found in

large, usually relatively wealthy, urban areas.

More importantly, most students attending

adequate secondary schools or institutions of

higher learning come from urban areas where

schooling is better and where individuals are

more likely to have an opportunity to attend

school. By contrast, a middle school education

remains the norm for much of rural China; in

very poor areas, in fact, many children do not

even reach or make it past primary school. By

some estimates, there may be as many as 30

million illiterates in China today.

Conversely, there are already clear signs

that a new privileged class is arising in China’s

wealthier urban enclaves, formed from the

children of party cadre, government officials,

military officials, and successful entrepreneurs.

Children from these “better families” have

significant potential advantages: private tutors,

special schools, a head start in networking,

greater access to news and information about

the outside world, and even more opportunities

for direct contact with foreigners. In time,

disadvantaged social classes, seeing the military door increasingly closed to them, could

come to feel they have lost a traditional economic escape route. They could begin to resent

perceived losses of opportunity, especially if

economic reforms do not live up to expectations about improving the quality of life in

rural and poorer urban areas, and if those

opportunities are lost to those envied as already

being much better off.

A related potential danger lies in the

possible consequences of a backlash from

retired old-order military retirees if, as is likely,

these individuals lose the benefits and influence they traditionally enjoyed through networking and if social and economic gulfs

widen between them and the new PLA generation. Once disaffected, this group poses a tangible threat to internal stability: they represent

the one segment of Chinese society most likely

to be capable of organizing, planning, and

acting on their own.

Indeed, for China’s leaders, one of the

most worrisome aspects of the Falun Gong

movement in China is the number of older,

disaffected individuals with military and

paramilitary backgrounds active in the organization.3 Falun Gong, an unsanctioned popular

movement (now officially banned), seemingly

sprang full blown onto the Chinese stage

almost overnight. The movement exhibited a

high degree of organization and discipline—a

shock to Chinese officials, who quickly saw it

as a potentially serious political danger. The

added realization that Falun Gong had gained

these strengths because of its strong appeal for

that segment of the Chinese population most

likely to possess organizational and tactical

skills only added to the nightmare.

The ascendancy of an urban educated

class within the PLA has the potential to alter

the basic focus of PLA networking activities.

Networking is certainly not new to China’s

military: historically, networking focused on

exploiting party relationships, internal factional

alliances, and revolutionary bonds. But given

the postulated evolution in the PLA population,

it is not farfetched to suppose that PLA networking activities might take on a different focus,

one that favors economic dealings and financial accommodations over traditional political

and ideological arrangements.

Events in recent history lend credence to

this supposition: the widespread and enthusiastic PLA foray into economic ventures—an

activity that occupied the military’s attention

through much of the last decade—stimulated

a new appreciation for networking that produced economic advantage and material gain.

It also fueled an astonishing predisposition for

corruption; local grapevines in many areas

buzzed with reports of gun battles between

business-rival units, strong-arm tactics against

local civilian businesses, extortion, and payoffs.

These unwelcome side effects, deep reaching and corrosive, led China’s most senior

leaders to order the PLA to remove itself from

the business arena. There is still vigorous debate

about the exact degree to which the PLA obeyed

orders to divest itself of economic-commercial

entanglements (or whether it simply dumped

nonperformers and disguised “keepers”).

It is interesting that senior PLA delegates

to the 16th CCP Congress went on record as

being squarely behind Jiang Zemin’s call to

welcome entrepreneurs and capitalists into the

party and as being ready to “firmly establish

the guiding principle of Jiang’s Three Representations Theory in the army.” The PLA accounts for a sizeable segment of CCP membership, and there is a growing implication that

the party is shaping a new role for itself as

China’s main entrepreneurial facilitator and

influence broker. Should the CCP experiment

in this direction spin out of control, the PLA

traditional value system could easily break

down as its leaders become caught up in the

“new” CCP identity. One possible, and ironic,

outcome of the transformational process now

taking place is that the PLA could evolve into

the defender of and a stakeholder in a new

Chinese plutocracy: the stakes for the CCP are

high, perhaps involving even survival itself.

Looking Ahead

Possible PLA modernization scenarios are

many and varied. The armed forces could end

up differently than current leaders envision:

■ From the party point of view, modernization

in the best of all worlds not only produces a strong

military but also reinforces existing PLA–CCP

bonds (thus giving Beijing a more efficient and

flexible tool for enforcing CCP political will at

home), while simultaneously making China

capable of assuming a respectable military posture

internationally. This result is probably the hardest

to achieve, as it implies a certain amount of sophistication in striking the fine balance between

the different philosophies and worldviews appropriate for undertaking both external and internal

missions within the same force, while minimizing

frictions within that force and instilling trust

between it and society in general.

■ The PLA might become a professional,

national military force, divorced from the party

and loyal to the concept of the nation-state, forcing a restructuring of the relationship that currently exists between China’s political and military

establishments.

■ The PLA could evolve into a CCP rival,

insisting on substantial power sharing.

■ Going a step further, the PLA might even

appropriate to itself the role of China’s premier

authority, supplanting the CCP entirely and defining

state needs and benefits as synonymous with its own.

■ Less damaging to the party, but more harmful to China as a state, the PLA could stumble in its

No. 204, December 2003 Strategic Forum 5 
Panel 5 

set them apart from the bulk of their PLA comrades. It is not out of the question that such

divisions and the resultant envy could cause

serious morale and discipline problems within

the ranks.

The Social Contract

Aspiring to a better-educated military

force also refocuses target areas for recruitment from the countryside to the cities and

from poorer areas to wealthier ones, mirroring

the evolution occurring throughout Chinese

society as the nation’s changing economic and

social structures force new labor market practices. In China, most universities and other

institutions of higher learning are found in

large, usually relatively wealthy, urban areas.

More importantly, most students attending

adequate secondary schools or institutions of

higher learning come from urban areas where

schooling is better and where individuals are

more likely to have an opportunity to attend

school. By contrast, a middle school education

remains the norm for much of rural China; in

very poor areas, in fact, many children do not

even reach or make it past primary school. By

some estimates, there may be as many as 30

million illiterates in China today.

Conversely, there are already clear signs

that a new privileged class is arising in China’s

wealthier urban enclaves, formed from the

children of party cadre, government officials,

military officials, and successful entrepreneurs.

Children from these “better families” have

significant potential advantages: private tutors,

special schools, a head start in networking,

greater access to news and information about

the outside world, and even more opportunities

for direct contact with foreigners. In time,

disadvantaged social classes, seeing the military door increasingly closed to them, could

come to feel they have lost a traditional economic escape route. They could begin to resent

perceived losses of opportunity, especially if

economic reforms do not live up to expectations about improving the quality of life in

rural and poorer urban areas, and if those

opportunities are lost to those envied as already

being much better off.

A related potential danger lies in the

possible consequences of a backlash from

retired old-order military retirees if, as is likely,

these individuals lose the benefits and influence they traditionally enjoyed through networking and if social and economic gulfs

widen between them and the new PLA generation. Once disaffected, this group poses a tangible threat to internal stability: they represent

the one segment of Chinese society most likely

to be capable of organizing, planning, and

acting on their own.

Indeed, for China’s leaders, one of the

most worrisome aspects of the Falun Gong

movement in China is the number of older,

disaffected individuals with military and

paramilitary backgrounds active in the organization.3 Falun Gong, an unsanctioned popular

movement (now officially banned), seemingly

sprang full blown onto the Chinese stage

almost overnight. The movement exhibited a

high degree of organization and discipline—a

shock to Chinese officials, who quickly saw it

as a potentially serious political danger. The

added realization that Falun Gong had gained

these strengths because of its strong appeal for

that segment of the Chinese population most

likely to possess organizational and tactical

skills only added to the nightmare.

The ascendancy of an urban educated

class within the PLA has the potential to alter

the basic focus of PLA networking activities.

Networking is certainly not new to China’s

military: historically, networking focused on

exploiting party relationships, internal factional

alliances, and revolutionary bonds. But given

the postulated evolution in the PLA population,

it is not farfetched to suppose that PLA networking activities might take on a different focus,

one that favors economic dealings and financial accommodations over traditional political

and ideological arrangements.

Events in recent history lend credence to

this supposition: the widespread and enthusiastic PLA foray into economic ventures—an

activity that occupied the military’s attention

through much of the last decade—stimulated

a new appreciation for networking that produced economic advantage and material gain.

It also fueled an astonishing predisposition for

corruption; local grapevines in many areas

buzzed with reports of gun battles between

business-rival units, strong-arm tactics against

local civilian businesses, extortion, and payoffs.

These unwelcome side effects, deep reaching and corrosive, led China’s most senior

leaders to order the PLA to remove itself from

the business arena. There is still vigorous debate

about the exact degree to which the PLA obeyed

orders to divest itself of economic-commercial

entanglements (or whether it simply dumped

nonperformers and disguised “keepers”).

It is interesting that senior PLA delegates

to the 16th CCP Congress went on record as

being squarely behind Jiang Zemin’s call to

welcome entrepreneurs and capitalists into the

party and as being ready to “firmly establish

the guiding principle of Jiang’s Three Representations Theory in the army.” The PLA accounts for a sizeable segment of CCP membership, and there is a growing implication that

the party is shaping a new role for itself as

China’s main entrepreneurial facilitator and

influence broker. Should the CCP experiment

in this direction spin out of control, the PLA

traditional value system could easily break

down as its leaders become caught up in the

“new” CCP identity. One possible, and ironic,

outcome of the transformational process now

taking place is that the PLA could evolve into

the defender of and a stakeholder in a new

Chinese plutocracy: the stakes for the CCP are

high, perhaps involving even survival itself.

Looking Ahead

Possible PLA modernization scenarios are

many and varied. The armed forces could end

up differently than current leaders envision:

■ From the party point of view, modernization

in the best of all worlds not only produces a strong

military but also reinforces existing PLA–CCP

bonds (thus giving Beijing a more efficient and

flexible tool for enforcing CCP political will at

home), while simultaneously making China

capable of assuming a respectable military posture

internationally. This result is probably the hardest

to achieve, as it implies a certain amount of sophistication in striking the fine balance between

the different philosophies and worldviews appropriate for undertaking both external and internal

missions within the same force, while minimizing

frictions within that force and instilling trust

between it and society in general.

■ The PLA might become a professional,

national military force, divorced from the party

and loyal to the concept of the nation-state, forcing a restructuring of the relationship that currently exists between China’s political and military

establishments.

■ The PLA could evolve into a CCP rival,

insisting on substantial power sharing.

■ Going a step further, the PLA might even

appropriate to itself the role of China’s premier

authority, supplanting the CCP entirely and defining

state needs and benefits as synonymous with its own.

■ Less damaging to the party, but more harmful to China as a state, the PLA could stumble in its

No. 204, December 2003 Strategic Forum 5