All Shook Up

The Chinese phrase for "crisis" combines the words for both "danger" and "opportunity." That pretty much describes how the 7.9-magnitude earthquake that flattened parts of Sichuan also shattered parts of the traditional social order—for worse but also for better. New forces are now emerging from the rubble that will determine how China is ruled and perceived far after the crisis has passed. The official scramble to assist disaster victims has been accompanied by an unusual display of government transparency and openness, creating new opportunities for old rivals such as Taiwan and Japan; breaking down some barriers between rich and poor; injecting new levels of trust between the Communist Party and the people it rules, and offering those people new liberties.

In other words, China's new postquake social landscape features some surprising winners and losers. First are the leaders of the Communist Party, who are enjoying a surge in popularity. That's due to an outburst of solidarity and support both at home and abroad—thanks, in part, to their quick response to the crisis. The deaths of thousands of children in flimsy schools has prompted many of China's rural residents to seek allies in Beijing and to speak out with newfound freedom against crooked local cadres and flaws in the education system. New allies are pushing the party in the direction in which it has wanted to go for some time but for which it has, until now, lacked the courage. Before the quake, Beijing's signature slogan of a "harmonious society"—meaning one with a decent welfare system and that was corruption-free—was widely mocked. Now Sichuan has become the crucible for experiments in philanthropy and accountability that promise, if successful, to set new standards nationwide. And ordinary citizens are benefiting. Reconstruction has expanded the space for civic groups to operate; many are working unregistered or across provincial boundaries, regardless of legal niceties. There are real, if fragile, openings for protesters and media. Marches by bereaved parents are generally being permitted, although they're denied access to school sites. And the outrage sparked by so many students' deaths has focused Beijing's scrutiny not just on building standards, but also the cash-strapped rural school system long criticized for second-rate teaching and equipment.

Many overstretched local officials, eager to salvage their tarnished reputations, are also proving grateful for the help. In the early '80s, Deng Xiaoping told Chinese that to get rich is "glorious," setting off an ongoing stampede to make money. Now some of the newly rich are working to create a legacy of social welfare.

Other winners to emerge from the dust include China's neighbors. The last time a comparable calamity hit China was the 1976 Tangshan earthquake. Following that catastrophe, which left as many as 240,000 people dead, the regime was criticized for not accepting foreign offers of assistance. This time, Beijing has opened its arms to foreign help—including from former rivals. Rescue teams from Japan and Taiwan were among the first outsiders to arrive. Just three years ago, strident Chinese protesters besieged Japanese establishments in anger over Tokyo's perceived attempts to whitewash Japanese aggression during the 1930s and '40s. But when the quake hit, Chinese President Hu Jintao had just returned from a key fence-mending trip to Tokyo, the first by a Chinese president in a decade. He quickly invited Japanese assistance and, within days, Japanese rescuers were working alongside the People's Liberation Army.

Taiwan's government has also often been the target of Beijing's wrath in the past. The Chinese regime sees the self-governing island as a renegade province that must be reunited by force, if necessary. But Taiwan's pro-independence Democratic People's Party was swept from power in March elections, and Sichuan's quake became a further catalyst for warming relations. J. C. Shieh, the head of Taiwan's 921 Foundation—formed after a major 1999 earthquake—got permission to visit Sichuan, where he gave political tips to more than 100 fledgling civic activists who had gathered to assist relief efforts.

Domestic civic groups are emerging as another postquake winner. The stereotypical old Chinese NGO lacked professional backup and had a touchy relationship with Beijing. Now a new breed of nonprofit is appearing. It features rich philanthropists offering reconstruction money and business skills as bait for greater accountability. Taiwan's Shieh argues that Beijing should allow such local NGOs to grow stronger in order to assist official efforts to provide social care—saying that whether Beijing complies will be "a test for Chinese wisdom."