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Two A Plum for a Peach:Bargaining, Interest, and Bureaucratic Politics in China
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Water Projects: The Bargaining Process Up Close

Because water is a scarce resource with multiple uses (with one use frequently precluding another), and because water traverses administrative boundaries (with upstream users affecting the interests of those downstream), analyzing how decisions are made in this field clearly reveals the bargaining dimensions of Chinese politics. The controversies swirling around the planning, construction, and management of the Danjiangkou and Three Gorges dam projects reveal both the complex constellation of interests that must be accommodated and the broader character of the political system, at least with respect to economic, organizational, and technical decisions. Further, both of these projects involve ongoing decision processes that straddle the Maoist and post-Mao eras;


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they thereby reveal the continual role of bargaining in the Chinese polity, as well as its even more prominent role in the era following the Chairman's death.

The Danjiangkou Dam

The middle and lower reaches of the Han River in Hubei province flood often; it is a constant menace to the major metropolis of Wuhan at the confluence of the Han and Yangtze rivers. In 1955 China's government began a flood-diversion project along the Han (Dujiatai), which was part of a more comprehensive development plan for the entire Han River Basin. In 1958 the State Council approved construction of the Danjiangkou Dam as stage two of that development effort.

During its construction a number of problems slowed the project, as is detailed elsewhere.[28] Here the focus is on several issues that became the foci of protracted bargaining during the planning, construction, and management phases: the dam's height; the priorities to be assigned irrigation, flood control, and electrical power generation; the problem of relocating displaced persons; and the issue of local opposition.

When construction started on Danjiangkou, the dam's initially planned height was 175 meters, with the water level to be maintained at 170 meters (above sea level).[29] However, throughout the entire construction phase (which ended in 1974), there was intense controversy over what the dam's height should, in fact, be. During construction, the bargaining process produced agreed-upon dam heights of 140 meters, 152 meters, and 162 meters, as well as the initial height of 175. Throughout much of the construction period, no one knew how high the dam would be; the foundation that was built could support a much higher dam. Further, even in 1989, debate was still going on about whether to heighten the dam—sixteen years after construction was "finished."

In 1965 the planners (who wished to minimize construction and displaced-person costs) accepted a dam height of 152 meters, but Hubei and Henan provinces (the two provinces that shared the resulting reservoir) wanted a higher dam (so they would get more electrical power and irrigation water). In 1966 the dam was approved for 162 meters (which Hubei and Henan wanted), but the water level was to stay at the 145-meter level (as in the 152-meter dam) until the problem of what to do with displaced persons could be solved. The negotiating process produced a perfectly predictable outcome. The difference between the two sides was split down the middle, with one side getting an acceptable dam height and the other avoiding the immediate problem of displaced per-


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sons and attendant costs.[30] One interviewee explained: "In 1965 ... the Center approved a revised dam height of 152 meters with a water level of 145 meters. Because Hubei and Henan were unhappy with this ... the Center agreed in 1966 to a 162-meter dam, with an initial water level of 145 meters to gradually be raised to 157 meters as the relocation problem was solved."[31]

The essence of the problem was that as the dam's height rose the opposition of counties and special districts that would be inundated became more intense; the number of persons who would be displaced would grow, and the number of cadres who would lose jobs would escalate, and all of this would greatly magnify political conflict and increase expenditures. The kernel of the bargaining outcome was that nobody got all of what they wanted, when they wanted it; few persons, organizations, or localities lost everything (at least immediately); and the number of dislocated persons and financial expenditures rose more gradually than would have been the case had they proceeded with the initial plan.

Though we cannot see the entire bargaining process, aspects of it are clear. One of the most contentious issues concerned the fact that Hubei province would get most of the flood control and electric power benefits and Henan province would get excessive numbers of refugees (in proportion to its benefits). Intense negotiations between the two provinces were conducted to redress this imbalance.

The leadership of the two provinces got together and Hubei agreed to take 80,000 of Henan's displaced persons (yimin ). According to central figures, there were a total of 356,000 refugees, with 130,000 in Henan and 226,000 in Hubei province. ... They said the local figures put the total number of displaced persons at 390,000 [obviously higher than the central estimate]. I asked why Hubei agreed to assume the burden and was told plainly that Henan was poor, their displaced persons' plight was worse, and "Henan's benefits from the reservoir were not as great."[32]

Perhaps because the Center pays local authorities for each displaced person, the central authorities had an estimate for displaced persons well below that of the local authorities, whose receipts went up with the number of refugees. In this kind of bargaining situation, proponents tend to minimize costs imposed on others and puff up the benefits to localities; the localities whine about the damage and mafan ("bother") and deprecate their benefits.

These negotiations resulted in a written agreement between Hubei and Henan, an agreement that specified the distribution of electric


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power, water, and displaced persons.[33] Henan, though poorer and weaker than Hubei along many dimensions, did quite well in the bargaining process. Why? First, desperation can be a valuable political resource. Henan's provincial leaders could continually argue that if the refugee problem was not adequately solved, they would be unable to effectively remove people from areas to be inundated. In all political systems, people who are highly motivated to resist can exact large tolls. Second, the delays that Henan could impose on "closing" a deal were, in themselves, very expensive for Hubei. Every year that Wuhan's industries were starved for power and floods caused destruction all along the Han River proved enormously costly to Hubei. Just by being able to slow progress, Henan could inflict costs on Hubei higher than the concessions Hubei would have to provide Henan to close a deal. In short, the weak can be strong!

A second ongoing issue has been whether the principal use of Danjiangkou should be electrical-power generation, flood control, or irrigation. To manage the dam to maximize one objective is to diminish the extent to which the other purposes can be fully realized. To use water for irrigation means that less water flows through the turbines to generate power. "The contradiction is sharp," I was told in one interview.[34] To maximize power output, the water level needs to be kept high; to provide insurance against flood, the water level should be kept low. To irrigate fields, the water level should be high, but water should not run through turbines and thereafter "uselessly" (from the vantage point of the local farmer) flow downstream.

Each of these purposes is not only of more importance to some mass constituencies than others (e.g., electrical power for industry and water for peasants, to greatly oversimplify), each purpose is also organizationally embodied in a particular ministry or set of bureaus within ministries. Agricultural concerns are the responsibility of the Ministry of Agriculture, Forestry, and Animal Husbandry. Electrical power has its bureaucratic proponents in the Electrical Power Ministry (or in the Electrical Power Bureau when there is a consolidated Ministry of Water Resources and Electrical Power), heavy industrial organizations, and big urban areas with great concentrations of population and industry. As for flood control, the Ministry of Water Conservancy historically has seen itself as the defender of the peasantry against flood. Territorial actors also have different interests. For instance, with respect to Danjiangkou, Henan province (upstream) was concerned primarily about irrigation water (although Zhengzhou did want more electrical power), and Hubei's provin-


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cial government (downstream) was more concerned with flood control and Wuhan's electrically starved industry (e.g., Wuhan Iron and Steel). One sees, therefore, a Byzantine process of negotiation within provinces (between the province and "its" special districts and municipalities and the many vertical functional organizations that intersect in its domain) and between and among provinces.

In the case of Danjiangkou, complex and literally never-ending discussions among ministries and localities occurred over the dam's utilization priorities. Initially, flood prevention was the first priority, followed by electrical power, irrigation, navigation, and aquaculture, in that order.[35] Since then each ministry keeps raising the issue of the priority of "its" use, continually trying to reopen the case in order to better its position.[36] Issues frequently are never resolved; they just ebb and flow over time.

Another contentious issue that resulted in the dam's not being built to its designed height, an issue that still weighed against raising it in the late 1980s, is the opposition of localities along the reservoir's edge. My interview notes recount:

Another reason the 175-meter dam was not built as planned ... was because of the displaced persons problem. The fact is, I was told, that Henan province, even though it had no particular need for the flood control aspects of this dam, would agree to the higher dam, but it was Henan's Nanyang Special District which adamantly opposed it then, and does today, for the obvious reason that it would be one of the areas to be inundated heavily.[37]

In Hubei province, it is Jun Xian [county], with a long and illustrious history dating from the Tang, and Yun Xian. In Henan province it is Zhechuan Xian. These three old county towns would go under water and Xiangyang Special District in Hubei province and Nanyang Special District in Henan opposed it. According to ... [my interviewee], the provincial government in Henan would go along with this [raising the dam] because of the benefits to Zhengzhou [the provincial capital] and irrigation, but they can't persuade the affected localities.[38]

The Three Gorges Project

The Three Gorges, which sits astride the Hubei and Sichuan border, is a strategic choke-point at which floods that originate in Sichuan province (and devastate Hubei, Hunan, and other localities downstream) could theoretically be contained. Moreover, the reservoir that would be formed by a dam in the Three Gorges could drive turbines that would energize


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much of central and eastern China's energy-starved industry. Finally, raising the water level in the gorges could improve navigation and increase the size of ships able to reach Chongqing, now China's largest city. So strategic is the Three Gorges that leaders from Sun Yatsen, through Mao Zedong, to Deng Xiaoping, Zhao Ziyang, and Li Peng have considered the project.

The undertaking has been approved at least twice "in principle" in the post-1949 era (once in 1958 at the Chengdu Conference and again in April 1984),[39] only to have the start of construction aborted because approval to commence actual building had been made contingent upon the resolution of myriad, presumably minor, technical, financial, and political details, such as, How high should the dam be? What is to be done with the displaced persons, inundated factories, cadres out of work, grain production and tax revenues that would evaporate, and administrative centers? Who pays, how much, for all this relocation, and where do you put the people? What would be the effect of such a huge project on upstream fisheries and estuaries and harbors above and below the dam? What would be the useful life of the dam, given siltation? How will shipping across the dam be affected, and how much shipping growth is it prudent to plan for? Is flood control best achieved by one gigantic project, or several smaller ones? Who will receive the resulting electrical power? Can it be efficiently transmitted to distant locations where it is most urgently needed, and at what cost? Is a dam of this scale safe? Or would it be, as Mao and the Ministry of National Defense at times feared, a huge "bowl of water on our heads"?

Each of these questions has no obvious answer, and the various possibilities all have their popular and bureaucratic constituencies, which are not averse to making their case in protracted consultations. I shall not recount here the more than three decades of the project's tribulations; these have been well documented elsewhere.[40] But I can advance a generalization that I believe will accurately predict both bureaucratic and local behavior most of the time—an "iron law of bargaining." The locality or bureaucracy will almost always exaggerate the costs that another unit's proposal will inflict, minimize the benefits received, exaggerate the mafan (bother) to itself, exaggerate the benefits others receive, understate its own resources, overstate the resources of others, and generate one-sided data supportive of its case.

As a result of such processes, in the case of the Three Gorges Project, promoters of the project face a bargaining dilemma: to weld a coalition big enough to win support for the dam, they must provide benefits to a


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vast constellation of groups. But this requires a dam so enormous that the resulting costs and negative outcomes create intense opposition, high financial expenditures, and other risks that top decision-makers are loath to ignore.

The system has been unable to reach closure on this issue after almost three decades of wrangling. In May 1983 the State Planning Commission (SPC), then headed by Yao Yilin, convened a meeting to assess the Three Gorges feasibility study, which had been submitted to it by the MWCEP and the Yangtze River Valley Planning Office (YRVPO). This study assumed a water level of 150 meters, which was comparatively low and thereby would reduce both negative outcomes (displaced persons and inundated urban and rural land) and simultaneously reduce benefits (to shipping, flood control, and electrical-power generation). Yao declared:

For more than twenty years the debate over the Three Gorges water resources project has concentrated principally on the problem of the dam's height. That a high dam generates more electricity and that the flood control results are better is easy to see. However, the inundation is too much, the investment is too big, the masses upstream are unable to agree, the burdens on the state finance also cannot be borne. However, the relevant ministries and localities have not been reconciled to the low dam and, because of this we have debated for many years and still are unable to decide. If we continue to debate, I think this generation of ours will be unable to accomplish anything on this.[41]

The battle continues without respite. In December 1988 the cover on Beijing Review proclaimed, "Three Gorges Project Given the Go-Ahead." Scarcely a month later Vice-Premier Yao told the fourth meeting of the Standing Committee of the Seventh Chinese People's Political Consultative Conference, "In the next five years, it is absolutely impossible to start the Sanxia Project, so people do not need to spend too much energy debating the issue for the time being."[42]


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Two A Plum for a Peach:Bargaining, Interest, and Bureaucratic Politics in China
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