That definition, however, will depend in the first instance on how China itself evolves, on how much of an
economic and military power it actually becomes. On this score, the prognosis for China is generally promising,
though not without some major uncertainties and qualifications. Both the pace of China's economic growth and
the scale of foreign investment in China—each among the highest in the world—provide the statistical basis for
the conventional prognosis that within two decades or so China will become a global power, roughly on a par
with the United States and Europe (assuming that the latter both unites and expands further). China might by
then have a GDP considerably in excess of Japan's, and it already exceeds Russia's by a significant margin.
That economic momentum should permit China to acquire military power on a scale that will be intimidating to
all its neighbors, perhaps even to the more geographically distant opponents of China's aspirations. Further
strengthened by the incorporation of Hong Kong and Macao, and perhaps also eventually by the political
subordination of Taiwan, a Greater China will emerge not only as the dominant state in the Far East but as a
world power of the first rank.
However, there are pitfalls in any such prognosis for the "Middle Kingdom's" inevitable resurrection as a
central
global power, the most obvious of which pertains to the mechanical reliance on statistical projection.
That very error was made not long ago by those who prophesied that Japan would supplant the United States as
the world's leading economy and that Japan was destined to be the new superstate. That perspective failed to
take into account both the factor of Japan's economic vulnerability and the problem of political discontinuity—
and the same error is being made by those who proclaim, and also fear, the inevitable emergence of China as a
world power.
First of all, it is far from certain that China's explosive growth rates can be maintained over the next two
decades. An economic slowdown cannot be excluded, and that by itself would discredit the conventional
prognosis. In fact, for these rates to be sustained over a historically long period of time would require an
unusually felicitous combination of effective national leadership, political tranquillity, domestic social
discipline, high rates of savings, continued very high inflow of foreign investment, and regional stability. A
prolonged combination of all of these positive factors is problematic.
Moreover, China's fast pace of growth is likely to produce political side effects that could limit its freedom of
action. Chinese consumption of energy is already expanding at a rate that far exceeds domestic production. That
excess will widen in any case, but especially so if China's rate of growth continues to be very high. The same is
the case with food. Even given the slowdown in China's
demographic growth, the Chinese population is still
increasing in large absolute numbers, with food imports becoming more essential to internal well-being and
political stability. Dependence on imports will not only impose strains on Chinese economic resources because
of higher costs, but they will also make China more vulnerable to external pressures.
Militarily, China might partially qualify as a global power, since the very size of its economy and its high
growth rates should enable its rulers to divert a significant ratio of the country's GDP to sustain a major
expansion and modernization of China's armed forces, including a further buildup of its strategic nuclear
arsenal. However, if that effort is excessive (and according to some Western estimates, in the mid-1990s it was
already consuming about 20 percent of China's GDP), it could have the same negative effect on China's long-
term economic growth that the failed attempt by the Soviet Union to compete in the arms race with the United
States had on the Soviet economy. Furthermore, a major Chinese effort in this area would be likely to
precipitate a countervailing
Japanese arms buildup, thereby negating some of the political benefits of China's
growing military prowess. And one must not ignore the fact that outside of its nuclear forces, China is likely to
lack the means, for some time to come, to project its military power beyond its regional perimeter.
Tensions within China could also intensify, as a result of the inevitable unevenness of highly accelerated
economic growth, driven heavily by the uninhibited exploitation of marginal advantages. The coastal South and
East as well as the principal urban centers—more accessible to foreign investment and overseas trade—have so
far been the major beneficiaries of China's impressive economic growth. In contrast, the inland rural areas in
general and some of the outlying regions have lagged (with upward of 100 million rural unemployed).
The resulting resentment over regional disparities could begin to interact with anger over social inequality.
China's rapid growth is widening the social gap in the distribution of wealth. At some point, either because the
government may seek to limit such differences or because of social resentment from below, the regional
disparities and the wealth gap could in turn impact on the country's political stability.
The second reason for cautious skepticism regarding the widespread prognoses of China's emergence during
the next quarter of a century as a dominating power in global affairs is, indeed, the future of China's politics.
The dynamic character of China's nonsta-tist economic transformation, including its social openness to the rest
of the world, is not mutually compatible in the long run with a relatively closed and bureaucratically rigid
Communist dictatorship. The proclaimed communism of that dictatorship is progressively less a matter of
ideological commitment and more a matter of bureaucratic vested interest. The Chinese political elite remains
organized as a self-contained, rigid,
disciplined, and monopolisti-cally intolerant hierarchy, still ritualistically
proclaiming its fidelity to a dogma that is said to justify its power but that the same elite is no longer
implementing socially. At some point, these two dimensions of life will collide head-on, unless Chinese politics
begin to adapt gradually to the social imperatives of China's economics.
Thus, the issue of democratization cannot be evaded indefinitely, unless China suddenly makes the same
decision it made in the year 1474: to isolate itself from the world, somewhat like contemporary North Korea.
To do that, China would have to recall its more than seventy thousand students currently studying in America,
expel foreign businessmen, shut down its computers, and tear down satellite dishes from millions of Chinese
homes. It would be an act of madness, reminiscent of the Cultural Revolution. Perhaps for a brief moment, in
the context of a domestic struggle for power, a dogmatic wing of the ruling but fading Chinese Communist
Party might attempt to emulate North Korea, but it could not be more than a brief episode. More likely than not,
it would produce economic stagnation and then prompt a political explosion.
In any case, self-isolation would mean the end of any serious Chinese aspirations not only to global power
but even to regional primacy. Moreover, the country has too much of a
stake in access to the world, and that
world, unlike that of 1474, is simply too intrusive to be effectively excluded. There is thus no practical,
economically productive, and politically viable alternative to China's continued openness to the world.
Democratization will thus increasingly haunt China. Neither that issue nor the related question of human
rights can be evaded for too long. China's future progress, as well as its emergence as a major power, will thus
depend to a large degree on how skillfully the ruling Chinese elite handles the two related problems of power
succession from the present generation of rulers to a younger team and of coping with the growing tension
between the country's economic and political systems.
The Chinese leaders might perhaps succeed in promoting a slow and evolutionary transition to a very limited
electoral authoritarianism, in which some low-level political choice is tolerated, and only thereafter move
toward more genuine political pluralism, including more emphasis on incipient constitutional rule. Such a
controlled transition would be more compatible with the imperatives of the increasingly open economic
dynamics of the country than persistence in maintaining exclusive Party monopoly on political power.
To accomplish such controlled democratization, the Chinese political elite
will have to be led with
extraordinary skill, guided by pragmatic common sense, and stay relatively united and willing to yield some of
its monopoly on power (and personal privilege)— while the population at largo will have to be both patient and
undemanding. That combination of felicitous circumstances may prove difficult to attain. Experience teaches
that pressures for democratization from below, either from those who have felt themselves politically
suppressed (intellectuals and students) or economically exploited (the new urban labor class and the rural poor),
generally tend to outpace the willingness of rulers to yield. At some point, the politically and the socially
disaffected in China are likely to join forces in demanding more democracy, freedom of expression, and respect
for human rights. That did not happen in Tiananmen Square in 1989, but it might well happen the next time.
Accordingly, it is unlikely that China will be able to avoid a phase of political unrest. Given its size, the
reality of growing regional differences, and the legacy of some fifty years of doctrinal dictatorship, such a
phase could be disruptive both politically and economically. Even the Chinese leaders themselves seem to
expect as much, with internal Communist Party studies undertaken in the early 1990s
foreseeing potentially
serious political unrest.1 Some China experts have even prophesied that China might spin into one of its
historic cycles of internal fragmentation, thereby halting China's march to greatness altogether. But the