Editor’s
Note: “Public Nepotism,” Caijing magazine’s Feb. 14 issue cover story,
chronicled the rise to fame of Li Wei, a French-Vietnamese woman who entered
China’s Yunan Province as a refugee in the late 1970’s. She later amassed a
billion-dollar fortune by exploiting her sexual relationships with senior
Communist Party officials and influential business people. Unlike typical
mistresses who only receive money from their patrons, Li developed her own
multi-billion dollar business empire. At its peak, it consisted of almost 20
companies in the most lucrative industries: tobacco, real estate, advertising,
oil and securities. Li’s long list of influential lovers (surmised to be at
least 15) included the former Shangdong Province Party head, a former provincial
governor, and the former president of Sinopec. Many of these men have been
sentenced on corruption charges. While Li was investigated, she managed to walk
away with minimal loss to her fortune.
The
Caijing article gave a detailed account of how Li as an astute businesswoman
worked with officials to monetize political power. At least three Chinese
newspapers have been criticized by provincial authorities for reprinting the
article.
Li Wei, known as the “common mistress of high
officials,” was released without a criminal trial on Feb. 13. Judging from a
media report, Li’s loss was no more than “signing documents to transfer her 20
percent share in Beijing Sinopec Shouchuang Petroleum Investment Company to the
Beijing Capital Group.” Most of her overseas assets were not touched. Compared
to the fates of other mistresses of corrupt officials or the officials who
helped her build her empire, Li is extremely lucky. She has completely lived up
to Chinese officialdom’s criteria for a truly successful person.
I have grown wary of official mistress
stories, due to the spate of them in recent years. I was compelled to read
through the Caijing story solely due to these sentences in it. “Looking back at
her path, the ups and downs of the refugee billionaire has been an example of
the ‘Chinese dream.’” Though many mistresses like Li Wei have been the
protagonists of China’s fortune legends, none have been publicly associated
with the “Chinese dream.”
What distinguished Li Wei from tens of
thousands of mistresses are her own outstanding abilities. But after reading
over the story, I’m still more interested in dissecting the political system
and environment that created Li Wei and those like her.
There is no doubt that Li Wei is
extraordinary. In the prevalent power-sex deals, the majority of women have
played a passive role, selling themselves for job or educational opportunities.
Just look at examples of how female college
students approach job hunting these days. Many female college students have
been sexually harassed during job interviews. This type of quid pro quo is
rampant throughout different industries in China.
I was incensed when I saw how some old
professors use their privileges to make sexual advances toward capable and
talented female graduate students: how male Chinese intellectuals shamelessly
seek free “services,” while seeing to it that the most elite of Chinese women
lose their dignity. In today’s China, few women not from privileged families
can escape the harassment of corrupt men.
In a country where the dignity of women is
rampantly infringed upon, some would argue that Li Wei appears to have made
best use of her assets and abilities. The fortune fests she took part in
included almost all of the pillar industries in China: oil, real estate, stock
market and finance. In this respect, few have done better than Li Wei—not even
former Premier Li Peng’s daughter, Li Xiaolin, who heads China’s power
industry.
Li
Wei has distinguished herself as more than a “public mistress” of senior
officials. She provided the “market” where political power is monetized. The
officials favored Li for her well-managed connections with major players in the
power market. Li had the keen foresight and capacity for implementation rarely
found in other women.
When one of Li Wei’s early acquaintances,
Yunnan governor Li Jiating, was brought to justice, she realized that she
needed a gigantic network instead of betting on only one person, so she took
steps to build that network. She did not rely solely on her sex appeal, but
more on her understanding of people and the wisdom to gain trust from so many
powerful men. The large financial returns she reaped made her more attractive
than those girls who merely take money from their lovers.
Though Li Wei was made the focus of the
Caijing report, the story is in fact more about the men who plunder public
fortune. The true essence of the story is the commercialization of China’s
political power.
With Li Wei’s story in mind as a unique
product of our time, I won’t quote Charles Dickens by saying, “it was the best
of times, it was the worst of times,” since I don’t see any good in this time.
But I’m sure the Chinese of our time have contributed more real dramas, beyond
any novelist’s wildest imagination, than in any other period in human history.
No matter with what sentiments future
generations will look back upon our time, Li Wei’s story will always be a
representative episode of the Chinese dream and fortune legends of the 21st
century.
He Qinglian is a prominent Chinese author and economist. Currently based in the U.S., she authored “China's Pitfalls,” which concerns corruption in China’s economic reform of the 1990s, and “The Fog of Censorship: Media Control in China,” which addresses the manipulation and restriction of the press. She regularly writes on contemporary Chinese social and economic issues.
