Make Manchuria great again: Can China’s rust belt be revived?

A factory in Yanji, China, in 2007. Image: Getty.

In 1949, Mao gave China First the role of making China great again from its base in North East China. Ignoring his Soviet advisors, Mao believed that China’s path to prosperity was through heavy industry: that meant building on the industrial base left by the Japanese Empire in Manchuria.

For decades, China First and similar state-owned companies provided secure, well-paid employment to Manchurian workers whose ‘Iron Rice Bowl’ was the envy of the nation. Many of China First’s early recruits were still working there in the 1990s.

Today, things don’t look so good. After a decade of lay-offs, its losses are still growing, and stood at $850m last year. Chairman Wu was found hanged in his office during a corruption investigation in 2015. While the region’s GDP per capita is about average for China, it is in relative decline.  In 1978, China’s north east provinces of Liaoning, Heilongjiang and Jilin were the 4th, 5th and 8th richest. Now they are 14th,21st and 12th. What’s gone wrong?

The administrative divisions of China. Manchuria consists of the three provinces in the far north east. Image: Wikipedia.

Mao’s heavy industrialisation policy may have made Manchuria rich – but since his death, nowhere has followed the Manchurian path to prosperity. Instead, Deng Xiao-Ping’s model had privately-owned textile factories, rather than state-owned steel mills, in the vanguard.

These new factories didn’t come to Manchuria: investors were looking for cheap labour, and Manchuria had the most expensive workers in the country due to its Mao era economic success. Instead, they came, initially, to China’s coasts.

Now those regions that started off as sources of cheap labour for Japanese investors have moved on. Shanghai and Guangzhou are major global financial centres. Hebei Province is the steel capital of the world. So why was Manchuria, which started a few stations down the track, unable to get on the Deng Xiao-Ping train as it passed them by?

Firstly, imagine a combination of what John McDonnell thinks about bankers and what Ian Duncan Smith thinks about welfare claimants: that is how north-easterners are seen by large numbers of other Chinese people.  Most Chinese believe they worked for their own prosperity, but the three north eastern provinces were gifted prosperity by Mao, and now stay afloat via subsidy and corruption. Good Maoists make for bad capitalists. Whether this is fair is beside the point: it deters investment.


Secondly, geography. Being at the crossroads of the Communist world may have been an advantage in 1950; but now it puts Manchuria in the middle of an economic nightmare zone, between the crashing Russian economy and North Korea which keeps on North Koreaing.

Finally, demographics. Even before the One Child Policy of 1982, Manchuria’s fertility rate had fallen below the replacement rate. That policy was also more effective in Manchuria than anywhere else, with fertility rates falling to just 0.75 births per woman by 2010. It’s not surprising that, in the provinces with the highest rates of government employment, more people would obey government policy. On top of this, there has been huge net migration: 2m workers left the north east for southern provinces between the 2000 and 2010 censuses.

So, as Lenin asked, what is to be done?

The Chinese government has had two main strategies. First is transport. My hometown of Yanji (about the size of Bristol) boasts several 150mph+ services a day to cities in the region hundreds of miles away, as well as a daily service to Beijing (about as far as Bristol to Berlin).

Over 1,500 miles of highspeed railway has opened in Manchuria in the last 5 years, and more is being built. Buses to smaller towns in the region are cheap, regular and mostly travel along motorways built in the last 20 years.

No doubt this growing connectedness has helped the local economy – but it has not stopped Manchuria falling behind the coastal provinces, largely because new motorways and high speed rail are national megaprojects.

China’s rail network. Click to expand. Image: Howchou/Wikimedia Commons.

The second strategy is keeping the order books of local government-owned factories full. New trains roll off the production lines in Changchun, tanks in Qiqihar and steel pretty much everywhere. However, this has not closed the gap either.

Some have bold plans, but it is not clear they’d be effective. Justin Yifu Lin, former chief economist of the World Bank, argues that the region should target those light industrial businesses that set up on the coast decades ago and are now on the move again looking for cheap labour. He also suggests greater efforts to get workers out of the fields and into the cities.

But it is not really clear why a business owner would opt for remote, moderate wage Manchuria over better located, lower wage provinces further west – nor why farm workers shouldn’t just move south as they have been doing for decades.

Government economist Fan Hengshan hinted in an interview with the China Economic Times that he believes Thatcherite style shock therapy – privatise the state owned companies and fire the planners – will boost growth. It is not made plain why these companies would be better at updating the regions decaying industrial base than the government.


Economist Andrew Batson suggests opening branches of the China’s best universities to boost the local skills base and partially reverse the population decline.

But Manchuria already has three of the country’s top 25 universities. The problem is that local students see admission as their ticket out of Manchuria, while those from outside the region rarely stay. A brief non-scientific survey of undergraduates I know from my town’s university found no-one originally from outside the province who intends to stay after graduation: one laughed at the suggestion. 

Manchuria resembles the rust belts of the western world and the problems seem similarly intractable. Just like in the west, relative decline has provoked a political backlash, though it takes a different form than in the west. (As annoying as I am I have not yet sparked an anti-immigrant backlash.)

Industrial decline has created workers’ movements. As China is a worker’s paradise, trades unions are illegal, so keeping track of what are by definition wildcat strikes is hard. The government likes to pretend strikes afflict only foreign owned companies, and certainly never state ones.

Nevertheless thousands of strikes are recorded every year by the Chinese Labour Bulletin. The regions heavy industries were described as “a disaster area” for not paying employees on time by the People’s Daily in January. Miners have been striking and protesting in large numbers in the city of Shuangyashan. This may intensify as the government has announced ‘restructuring’ plans that will lay off almost 2m steel and coal workers.

In Manchuria it will be difficult for the newly unemployed to find work. Manchuria’s reign as China’s richest region is over – but after four centuries at the centre of Chinese history it might not be quite ready to step aside yet.  

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How the rise of anti-crime politics caused lasting harm to Black Americans

"I see an awareness that has developed in the Black community in the last 10 years or so about how deeply racist the criminal justice system has become," James Forman Jr. says. (David McNew/Getty Images)

The police killing of George Floyd, and the protest movement that emerged from it, has reinvigorated a national conversation around reinventing criminal justice policy in the United States.

At the same time, reports that violent crime is rising in many US cities have resurrected talk of the much-disputed “Ferguson effect,” a theory put forward by law enforcement professionals, and some researchers, who argued that police slowdowns in the wake of the first wave of Black Lives Matter protests resulted in elevated rates of violent crime. President Donald Trump is trying to weaponise this narrative, paired with images of federal officers clashing with protesters in the streets of Portland, to wage a 1968-style backlash election campaign.

“People who want to mobilise a lock-them-up style of either policing or prosecution have tried to weaponise those short-term increases,” says James Forman Jr., professor of law at Yale Law School. “Criminologists will say you have to be very, very cautious about short-term movement [in crime statistics]. We don't know whether or not what we're seeing right now [with violent crime increasing] is going to sustain itself. But the fact is, it's here and people are talking about it.”

In 2018, Forman won the Pulitzer Prize in nonfiction for his book Locking Up Our Own: Crime and Punishment in Black America. Drawing on his experience as a public defender in Washington, DC, he traced the emergence of anti-crime politics in late 20th century Black communities. Forman showed how newly empowered Black politicians fought for policies they believed would protect and uplift Black Americans, but inadvertently contributed to mass incarceration. 


CityMetric recently caught up with Forman to discuss crime trends, where he sees reason for hope in this moment and how the Black political class’s attitude toward crime and punishment has shifted since the latter part of the 20th century. 

This interview has been edited and condensed. 

There is talk right now about a resurgence of crime and violence in American cities. We saw similar, more localised concerns after the initial 2015 Black Lives Matter protests in Ferguson and Baltimore. Do you fear this could reinvigorate the kind of politics you describe in your book among segments of the Black community and political class?

I fear that it could be reinvigorated nationally and also in the Black political class. Look at the political conversations that are happening in Atlanta right now, for example, a city that also has seen a short-term uptick in crime as it is a site of a lot of protests about George Floyd and Breonna Taylor on the national level, as well as Rayshard Brooks and Ahmaud Arbery more locally in Georgia.

I think that you can already see in some of the language of the local elected officials this idea that we have to be very careful about pulling back. [They are saying] “while the protesters may make some valid points, we can't risk returning to the ‘80s and ‘90s.” Those decades really traumatised the United States, and particularly traumatised Black communities. There's a deep fear about returning to the levels of the violence that we saw in the crack years.

You write a lot about class divides among Black Americans, where middle income and elite Black people don't suffer as much from extremely punitive policies. They also have closer ties to the politicians who are creating these policies. There are very specific groups of people, even in marginalised communities, whose voices are heard.  As a result of these dynamics, you write about Black politicians fighting for things like mandatory minimum prison sentences or against decriminalising marijuana. Is there still that disconnect between those who suffer the most from criminal justice policies and those who are actually heard in political discourse?  

Let me just say a caveat, that when we talk about class divisions in the Black community it's important to hold two truths in our head at the same time. Bruce Western and others have shown the way in which class, educational status, income can dramatically reduce the likelihood of being hardest hit by the criminal system – namely incarcerated. Middle class and upper middle class Black people get some measure of protection. It's also true at the same time that Black people of all classes are worse off relative to their class counterparts in the white community. 

One area where class is least protective is policing and police stops. The police do not know how many degrees you have. They don't know how much money you have in your bank account. I want to be very clear that in making this point about class, I'm not making the argument that race or racism don't matter in this context. 

In terms of how it plays out now, I see an awareness that has developed in the Black community in the last 10 years or so about how deeply racist the criminal justice system has become. Twenty or 30 years ago they had a consciousness, but there's levels of understanding. Many of the people I write about in the book wanted to promote the interests of the Black community. They weren't motivated by indifference or callousness. When presented with mounting evidence of how awful this system has been in Black lives, they're reconsidering and recalibrating. 

Lots of former elected officials have said to me some version of “I didn't know at the time and I appreciate that you showed us in our full complexity. I appreciate that you showed the pressures we were under. If I had known then what I know now, maybe I would have been less quick to go along with some of these harsh measures.” 

The second thing that has affected the Black political class has been the emerging movements, led by Black people in particular and led by young people. They not only educated leaders, but pressured them and made them understand that there is a political cost. If you're not moved by the moral argument, then you'll be moved by the political argument. You'll be moved by the people protesting outside the office of District Attorney Jackie Lacey in Los Angeles, for example, where Black Lives Matter LA has held, I believe, a year of consecutive protests against a Black district attorney who has had really some of the worst practices.

From what I can tell, she's been pressured by the movement to change some of her positions on important issues like prosecution of low-level drug offenders, for example, and the aggressiveness with which she prosecutes police officers for acts of violence.

What do you make of the calls to defend or even abolish the police?

What I find so compelling about abolition, initially in the prison context and extended to the police as well, is that it shifts the conversation and forces us to go through experiments in which we imagine what it would take to build that world. I think that exercise is very important, because it pushes us further than we are naturally inclined to go. Cultivating a broader imagination is an incredibly important part of this work, because as you know from my book, often it was lack of imagination that caused people to fall back on [punitive policies]. 

That's what caused D.C. Councilmember David Clarke to call the police rather than public health experts when he was overwhelmed with letters about heroin addicts in public space. He was anti-drug war, but he couldn't imagine responding to a call for help with heroin addicts with anything other than police. That's a very common move from even really good and progressive people. 

People who are for defunding, for abolition, are absolutely right about reinvesting that money into alternative structures that support communities. But the reinvestment part doesn't follow naturally from the terms. We might want to come up with a term that captures the new stuff we want to do. I think that's particularly important because one of the reasons Black communities have ended up supporting more police is that Black communities have always wanted their fair share of the resources.

Then, the evidence suggests the United States has too many police officers doing prophylactic, preventative, or stop-and-frisk style policing. The style of policing that leads to district level harassment, pulling people over for no reason. But we have too little investment in the parts of police departments that investigate unsolved crimes. I'm talking about the investigator or the detective who comes to your house after there's been a robbery, an assault, a rape, or homicide. 

As compared to European countries, in the United States we actually underinvest in those parts of our police departments. Jill Leovy’s book Ghettoside shows this in dramatic detail. She describes an LAPD that's stopping and frisking Black drivers wantonly and yet the homicide detectives are still relying on a fax machine and the fax machine is broken. They have to go with their own money to Staples to buy a printer. Meanwhile, other aspects of the department are kitted out in this ridiculous riot gear that makes them look like they're in Fallujah. 

That under investment is particularly damaging to Black communities because we're disproportionately victimised by crime. Because of racism and this allocation of resources, the police are less likely to respond in Black communities. The kids I used to work with in the charter schools in DC, we talk about no snitching, but one of the reasons they would never call the police after they'd been victimised by crime is they would say, “They're not even going to come. You're wasting time.” 

I did a Q&A with Jill Leovy too and her argument is one I've struggled to articulate in our present moment. She argues the state doesn't have a monopoly on violence in low-income Black neighbourhoods, because investigations of violence are deemphasised and crime victims or their loved ones often take retribution into their own hands.  But right now, establishing or preserving the state's monopoly on violence isn't an appealing talking point. 

Yes, this is another thing nobody's talking about. Whatever we're going to do instead of the police has to be accountable to the public. The best, most direct way to have accountability is to have the individuals be public employees. As long as we have 300 million guns in this country at least some of those state employees are going to themselves be armed. It's unreasonable to ask them to do the job without it. Not as many need to be armed as are armed now, but some of them need to be. But they can't be hiding behind union contracts or civil service protections which make it impossible to remove even the worst performing, most abusive officers. 

We can not call them police if we want to. That's semantic, but maybe symbolism matters. But those people have to be state employees. They can work with community-based nonprofits, but there are also communities that don't have as robust of a nonprofit network, and they deserve protection too. These [community] groups have to be accountable to the state and, when they don't exist, the state has to be there. 

Progressives get all the points I just made when it's applied to education. The notion that things be public and accountable to the state is understood when it comes to schools. It's exactly why so many people on the left are opposed to charter schools, because they say they don't have public accountability. They want these things to be a state function. But this point about the difficulty in removing this entirely from the hands of the state is, I think, one that liberals and progressives understand from other contexts.

Jake Blumgart is a staff writer at CityMetric.