Tiananmen Square Now Draws Protesters With Housing Issues
BEIJING -- After paying $60,000 for her new apartment, plus another $12,000 for furniture, kitchen appliances and television sets, Liu Jing looked out the window and decided she had to take a stand.
Another skyscraper was rising that would block her view. Parking was impossible. Shops and a promised swimming pool and clubhouse for residents were nowhere in sight.
So along with several hundred of her middle-class neighbors, Liu Jing took to the streets last spring and summer. They blockaded construction sites and unfurled large banners denouncing the developer and demanding a halt to further construction.
Defying government restrictions on demonstrations, the new homeowners then piled into their cars and drove noisily through Tiananmen Square to confront Chinese government officials.
"I'd never done anything like that before," says Ms. Liu. "Owning an apartment changed me. I bought it. I must protect it."
Fifteen years ago, on June 4, 1989, tanks rolled into Tiananmen Square, crushing democracy protests in China. Now, middle-class apartment owners increasingly are taking to the streets to challenge developers and the government on issues like poor construction, lack of green space, poor management and inadequate parking. More than 60 activist homeowners' associations have sprung up in Beijing over the last two years, and several have fielded independent candidates for the local legislature.
The activism of a newly minted home-owning middle class is changing China's political and economic landscape. Members of Beijing's middle class typically earn $1,200 to $4,800 a month, according to government statistics. Many have savings accumulated over many years, money from parents and, these days, mortgages from banks.
Propelled by market reforms that in the past six years have privatized the once state-controlled housing market, homeownership has become increasingly common, especially in Beijing. Traditionally assigned apartments by their work units, many Chinese now live in neighborhoods defined by their income. Until she bought her new apartment three years ago, for example, Ms. Liu, a lawyer who used to work for a legal newspaper, was assigned to live in a complex with neighbors including workers from the company cafeteria and janitors.
Economically, the surge in homeownership is boosting industries like construction, durable goods and interior design. Politically, homeownership is giving people a new stake in society, emboldening them to make more demands of their local governments.
"Everything I made over the past 20 years I put into this apartment," says Zhi Jin, an engineer at a small high-tech company and neighbor of Ms. Liu who earns about $1,200 a month and paid about $60,000 for his apartment. "If someone tries to harm my property rights, it makes me upset. It's not fair."
For Ms. Liu and her neighbors, the political awakening came in the spring of 2003 when about 20 residents of the seven-building high-rise complex known as "Ark City" met to discuss their grievances. For several months the residents had posted messages on an Internet bulletin board set up by some angry residents to complain.
"The advertising brochure described a community with gardens, a clubhouse with a department store and a swimming pool," says Lin Tiejun, a resident and manager of a camping store. "But we had nothing."
What's more, the developer had started construction on five additional buildings that residents worried would block their views and add to already congested streets and parking. Mr. Zhi, emerging as a leader of the group, searched government Web sites and city records and believed the developers had permits to build only three new buildings. When he asked Beijing city officials about the discrepancy, he was told only that the situation had "changed."
Mr. Zhi drafted a letter demanding a meeting with the developer, signed by half of Ark City's 1,600 apartment owners. The developer refused to meet. Over the next several weeks, events moved swiftly. Enraged, some college art teachers living in the buildings painted hundred-foot long "big character posters" usually used in political demonstrations and unfurled them from the roofs of several buildings, which is illegal in China. "Stop the building!" declared one banner. Another: "Protect our life savings!" The police quickly arrived and ordered residents to take the banners down.
When further attempts at negotiation proved fruitless, some residents tore down the wall surrounding the construction site and tried to physically block construction of the new buildings. In June last year, construction workers responded by throwing concrete blocks down on the residents' cars, damaging several, including a Mercedes-Benz sedan. Residents then began hurling beer bottles at the workers.
The police again arrived and warned Mr. Zhi that the protests had to stop. He believed his phone was now tapped. Opposed to violence, Mr. Zhi implored his neighbors to calm things. But many, including Ms. Liu, who is divorced and lives with her young daughter, pushed ahead.
In July, defying a police ban on demonstrations in Tiananmen square, about 200 residents printed up signs and T-shirts declaring "Protect our rights," piled into their new Hondas and Volkswagen Passats and paraded through Tiananmen Square to the Beijing city planning office. Mr. Zhi, fearing arrest as a ringleader, took the subway.
To everyone's surprise, city officials -- alerted to the arrival of the demonstrators by the police -- agreed to meet with a small delegation of residents and to look into the dispute. A few weeks after the car caravan, Beijing's mayor and its communist party chief, who have been cultivating a more populist image, visited Ark City, said there were "problems" and that the interests of the residents "must be protected." The mayor, Wang Qishan, ordered the developer to negotiate with the residents. They are now debating whether to accept a small commercial building with a restaurant, fitness club and underground parking in return for withdrawing their opposition to two new high-rises.
"Everyone has the right to protect his interest," says a spokesman for the chastened developer, Beijing Textile Holding Co., a state-run textile company that also invests in real estate. He adds: "Now we don't expect to make money through the planned new buildings."
In light of their victory, the residents last fall nominated Mr. Zhi for their local People's Congress, whose members are usually handpicked by the Communist Party leadership. Mr. Zhi lost, but another homeowner representative from another middle-class development won, marking one of the few times an independent candidate has been elected to the local legislature.
Meanwhile Mr. Zhi, who carries around the records of his fight on a laptop computer, has been contacted by several other middle-class homeowner groups for help in their fights against the city and developers.
"One of my friends said to me, 'The more ordinary people in China buy apartments, the more it could improve democracy in China,' " says Mr. Zhi. "I think he may be right."
中国房屋业主群起抗议开发商违约行径
刘京（音）为购买她的新公寓支付了6万美元，添置家具、厨具和电视机又花了1.5万美元，可是当她放眼窗外时，终于决定要站出来抗争了。
另一座正在拔地而起的高层建筑将挡住她公寓的视线，停车位也变得可望而不可及。小区配套的商店、开发商承诺的游泳池和会所则是踪影全无。
因此，去年春季和夏季，刘京和她的数百位中产阶级邻居开始了街头抗争。他们封锁了建筑工地，悬挂出谴责开发商的巨幅标语，要求停止在自己的小区开工建设新楼盘。
这些新业主们公然违抗政府对示威游行的严格规定，驾车一路喧嚣地通过天安门广场，以此表达对政府官员的不满。
随著一幢幢高层公寓大楼在北京各处拔地而起，这个城市又出现了新一波抗议浪潮，这次走上街头的则是拥有这些公寓的中产阶级业主，他们向开发商和政府提出抗议，抱怨建筑质量太差、绿地缺乏，管理不佳，停车位不足等等。过去2年中，北京已涌现出了60多个由活跃人士组成的业主协会，其中几个还推选了独立候选人，以谋求地方立法机构的席位。
没人认为这些抗议活动会危害中国的现行政治体制，但中国这批新兴中产阶级业主所采取的激烈抗争行动却正在改变中国的政治和经济面貌。
政府的统计数据显示，北京的中产阶级人士通常的月收入在1,200至4,800美元之间。许多人动用多年积蓄和父母的资助来买房，最近按揭贷款也了主要资金来源。
过去6年来，市场因素的变化使国有为主的住房市场迅速私有化，目前约70%的北京市民拥有自己住房的产权--这个比例甚至高于美国。中国人以往都依赖工作单位分配住房，但现在许多人都住进了与自己的收入状况相匹配的住宅区。例如，在3年前新购住房之前，曾就职于一家法制类报纸的刘女士一直居住在单位分配的住房里，与餐馆工人和看门人为邻。从经济角度看，住房私有化浪潮的兴起正在推动建筑、耐用商品和室内设计等产业的发展。
从政治角度看，住房私有化使人们平生头一次对社会事务有了发言权，这鼓励他们大胆地对地方政府提出更多要求。
在一家小型高科技公司担任工程师的支晋是刘女士的邻居，他的月收入约为1,200美元，购买住房花费了约6万美元。他说，为此他花尽了过去20年所有的积蓄，如果谁要损害他的财产权，他会怒不可遏的。
对刘女士和她的邻居来说，他们的政治觉醒发生在2003年春天，当时“方舟苑”小区(Ark City)的约20位居民聚集在一起诉说起了他们的烦心事。接下来几个月，一些愤怒的居民在互联网上建立起一个倾吐心声的留言板，小区居民们不断在此发布各种相关信息。
小区居民林铁军（音）是一家野营用品商店的经理，他说，开发商的售房广告宣称“方舟苑”小区将建有花园、会所、百货店和游泳池，但一项都没能兑现。
更有甚者，开发商又开始兴建5座住宅楼，小区居民担心新楼将遮挡他们的视野，使本已拥挤的街道和停车场更加拥堵。支晋被推举为小区居民维权团体的领袖，他搜索政府网站并察看城市规划后认为，开发商只获准新建3栋楼房。当他向北京市官员询问为何实际与规划不符时，只被告知情况已有“变化”。
支晋起草了一封要求与开发商对话的信件，“方舟苑”1,600户居民中的半数都在上面签了字。但开发商却拒绝与他们会面。此后几周，形势急转直下。几位在小区居住的大学美术老师愤怒地书写了几幅30米长的“大字报”，并将这种通常在政治示威时才用的东西从几幢居民楼的楼顶悬挂下去，这种做法在中国是非法的。其中一幅写著“停止施工！”，另一幅标语的内容是“保护我们毕生的积蓄！”。警察迅速赶到，命令居民们将这些标语拿下来。
继续寻求与开发商谈判的努力依然无望，一些居民扒开了新楼建设工地的围墙，试图强行阻拦新楼的施工。工地的建筑工人以向居民们的汽车扔混凝土砌块作为回应，包括一辆奔驰(Mercedes-Benz)在内的几辆汽车被损坏。居民们随后用啤酒瓶回敬。
警察再次赶到，并警告支晋抗议活动必须停止。由于不赞成使用暴力，支晋恳求邻居们保持冷静。但包括刘女士在内的许多居民却决定继续抗争。现已离婚的刘女士与她年幼的女儿生活在一起。
不顾警察不准在天安门广场示威的禁令，约200位“方舟苑”的居民穿上印有“维权”字样的T恤衫，举起写有各种维权内容的标语，开上他们新买的本田(Hondas)和大众帕萨特(Volkswagon Passats)，经由天安门广场直奔北京市规划委员会。由于害怕被当作带头闹事的人而遭逮捕，支晋选择了乘坐地铁。
出乎所有人意料的是，事先已从警方那里得知示威居民即将到达的北京市官员同意与居民代表会面，了解争端事宜。驾车游行之后几周，一直在努力树立自己亲民形象的市长和市委书记考察了“方舟苑”，他们说这小区的建设工作存在“问题”，并说居民的利益“必须得到保护”。市长王歧山命令开发商与居民展开谈判。居民们现在正在讨论，如果开发商承诺建设一座小型商用楼作为补偿，里面有餐馆、健身俱乐部和地下停车场，是否可以不再反对增建两座新楼。
开发商的态度现在已大为和缓。开发商某发言人说，任何人都有权保护自己的利益。“方舟苑”的开发商是国有的北京纺织控股有限责任公司(Beijing Textile Holding Co.)。这位发言人还说，该公司现在已不指望能从新建的这几幢楼中赚钱了。
鉴于自己的维权活动取得了胜利，“方舟苑”小区的居民们去年秋天提名支晋作为人大代表候选人，而中国的人大代表通常都是由上面挑选出来的。支晋虽然未能如愿当选人大代表，但另一个中产阶级居住区的业主代表却当选了，成为少数能被选进地方立法机构的独立候选人。
与此同时，其他一些中产阶级业主团体已经在与支晋接洽，要求支晋在他们针对市政当局和开发商的维权斗争中给予支持。支晋已将他参与维权斗争的经历纪录在了一台笔记本电脑中。
支晋说，有朋友告诉他，中国自购住房的普通民众越多，就越能促进中国的民主。他认为这位朋友可能是对的。
