Reflections from Pastor John Cao is a series of poetry and writings from the recently released Chinese Christian prisoner of conscience exclusively published by ChinaAid. The piece below was written on March 29, 2024 and has been minimally edited for clarity. To read more of Pastor John Cao’s poetry, one can purchase the collection written while he was imprisoned, Living Lyrics: Poems from Prison.
The terms “legal system” and “rule of law” are essentially synonymous, with just slightly different emphases. “Legal system” stresses the institutional system of laws, while “rule of law” emphasizes the quality of law enforcement personnel governing according to law. Both the system and governance are important, one cannot lack the other. In the past decade, the Chinese government has constantly stressed strengthening the construction of rule of law, to build China into a country ruled by law. The chairman solemnly promised the people “to let the people feel fairness and justice in every judicial case.” So over this decade, what progress has been made on legal system and rule of law? Is it satisfactory or not? From my personal experience, I regretfully have to say that China is still a case of a disordered system and disordered governance. I am not a legal professional, so I will not discuss the theory, but will only recount my personal experiences to illustrate the disordered system and disordered governance.
In any country, there can only be one set of laws applied to the same case – this is something even an illiterate person can understand and demand. Otherwise, it would be impossible for everyone to be equal before the law. However, I have precisely encountered a situation where two different sets of laws were used to adjudicate the same case.
I went to study in the United States as a self-funded student in 1986. In the same year, my household registration was canceled. I returned to China in 1993 and my household registration was restored, registered under my mother’s household registration booklet, and I was issued the first-generation national ID card. The information on that first-generation ID card was handwritten, as there was no computerized system recording resident identity information at that time. Around 2004, police officers from the local police station came to my mother’s home, saying they needed to update the household registration information. When the registration booklet was returned, my household registration information no longer existed – meaning my household registration had been canceled again. In March 2024, after serving a 7-year prison sentence, I returned to my hometown Changsha. The first thing I had to do was restore my household registration and apply for a national ID card. Without an ID card, I could hardly do anything. On March 18, 2024, I went to the Furong District Branch of the Changsha Municipal Public Security Bureau to apply for household registration reinstatement. An officer with the surname Chen received me. She seemed to be the person in charge, so let’s call her Section Chief Chen. Section Chief Chen had an amiable attitude. She told me that because I hold a U.S. green card, I am considered an overseas Chinese. I must first go to the Changsha Overseas Chinese Affairs Office, meet their requirements, obtain a certificate from them stating that I am no longer an overseas Chinese, and only then can they restore my household registration.
I asked Section Chief Chen, “After the computer-based national ID system was implemented in 2004, if a Chinese citizen goes abroad and obtains residency status in another country, like getting a U.S. green card, would their household registration and ID be canceled?” Chen replied, “Their household registration and IDs would not be canceled because they are not considered overseas Chinese.” I said, “So in other words, for Chinese people who went abroad earlier and obtained residency status in another country, they are considered overseas Chinese. But for those who went abroad later and got foreign residency, they are not considered overseas Chinese, is that right?” Chen didn’t answer this question directly, and insisted that I must get approval from the Overseas Chinese Affairs Office before she could reinstate my household registration. At this point, we can see there are two different legal systems dealing with the same situation. In any country, when there are two systems, it is natural to use the new system – what reason is there to still use the old system? In 1983, I was engaged in buying and reselling clothes between Guangzhou and Hunan, which was called “speculation and profiteering” and considered illegal at that time. Now it is called “invigorating the economy” and is encouraged behavior. Would any government official really try to apply laws from the 1980s to current actions? In the 1990s, the law viewed those holding foreign residency as overseas Chinese. But now the law no longer views such people as overseas Chinese. So I am not an overseas Chinese, I am 100% a Chinese citizen. And as a Chinese citizen, I must have an ID card – this is the legal requirement. Therefore, China currently has two systems for dealing with citizens residing overseas – one system views them as overseas Chinese, applying to those who went abroad before 2004. The other system views them as Chinese citizens, not overseas Chinese, applying to those going abroad after 2004. This is a disordered legal system.
So what is the function of the Overseas Chinese Affairs Office? First, the function of the Overseas Chinese Affairs Office is to conduct united front work and mobilize early emigrants to return to China to serve the country. But if they truly return, like me, they will be subjected to endless troubles. The Overseas Chinese Affairs Office requires me to meet nine conditions before issuing a certificate allowing me to apply to restore my household registration and apply for an ID card. The main conditions include: swear to abandon my foreign residence permit; have to purchase a real estate property in this city; have to prove a stable income source.
The Overseas Chinese Affairs Office reveals its disdain for the poor and favoritism towards the wealthy. Does it mean that Chinese citizens who cannot afford to buy a real estate property cannot settle back in the motherland? Does the motherland not accept people returning from overseas without an income? Can’t these people apply for minimum living allowance from the motherland? If an overseas Chinese can bring back millions of U.S. dollars, the Overseas Chinese Affairs Office would welcome them with open arms. But if they cannot buy a real estate property and have limited income, they are discarded like worn-out shoes. This Overseas Chinese Affairs Office is as despicable as it gets. An office that is not a legislative body, how can it possibly deprive me, a Chinese citizen, of the rights I am entitled to? This is a disordered legal system.
My household registration was canceled by the Public Security Bureau, so it should be the Public Security Bureau that restores it. But now the Public Security Bureau is pushing me to another government department. Why don’t the conditions I’m required to meet come from the Public Security Bureau? Why is an institution completely unrelated to household registration getting involved? This is a disordered legal system.
After discussing the disordered legal system, let me talk about an example of disordered governance that I have experienced – the disorderly conduct of public servants.
According to Chinese law, prisoners who have served half of their sentence and have a remaining term of three years can apply for parole. (Article 81 of the Criminal Law of the People’s Republic of China stipulates: Where a convict sentenced to fixed-term imprisonment has served not less than half of the term of his original sentence, or a convict sentenced to life imprisonment has actually served not less than 13 years of imprisonment, he may be paroled if he earnestly observes the prison rules.)
I was arrested on March 5, 2024. First, I was detained in the Menglian Detention Center, and then I was admitted to Kunming Prison on August 13, 2019. The prison’s sentence reduction plan can only begin three months after an inmate enters the prison. After serving one and a half years with good behavior, one can apply for an eight-month sentence reduction. So, I began accumulating time for sentence reduction after November 2019. One and a half years later, in October 2021, I became eligible to apply for a sentence reduction. I discovered that at this point, the time remaining until my release date in March 2024 was two years and five months, which met the conditions for parole. So, I inquired with Kunming Prison about whether I could apply for parole. Kunming Prison’s response surprised me: I must first receive one sentence reduction before becoming eligible to apply for parole. This is not what the law stipulates; this newly added provision was something Kunming Prison came up with on its own. What does this additional provision imply?
Applying for sentence reduction takes three months, so the time to receive the sentence reduction decision should be January 2022. Generally, the sentence reduction is eight months, so the release date would be July 4, 2023. After the sentence reduction, one must wait another year and a half before submitting a second application, at which point one can apply for parole. That means I could submit the parole application in July 2023. However, by that time, the sentence would have already been completed. From this calculation, we can see that Kunming Prison has effectively stripped away my right to parole, as well as that of others serving similar sentences. I have done a calculation and found that inmates serving sentences of less than ten years don’t have many opportunities for parole. I can even say that the parole rights of the vast majority of inmates have been taken away by the prison.
A prison can alter the laws set by the country. This is a case of chaotic governance.
I am just an ordinary citizen, yet in such a short time, I have experienced many instances of chaotic governance. I have only mentioned two examples here. If I were to continue listing them, I could easily cite more than a dozen cases of chaotic governance, enough to fill a book. If all 1.4 billion people were to speak out, there would be hundreds of billions of examples of chaotic governance.
When I was in elementary school, the teacher told me to learn from Lei Feng, saying, “Lei Feng was Chairman Mao’s good student.” I want to say to today’s chairman, “Many of the government officials under your leadership are not your good students.”
