Stephen Green

国有很多人称现在是中国的“黄金年代”。不过在经历了一段美妙绝伦的时光──两位数的经济增长、更丰厚的薪酬、低通胀和日益增加的国际影响力之后，中国经济的上空现在却开始积起乌云。最显而易见的是，今初南方的冰雪天气和上个月的四川大地震动摇了中国的信心。更为隐晦、对经济却也更为重要的是，通货膨胀正在加剧。现在还有这样一个危险：在仍有时间能够相对轻松应对的时候，政府却不会做出遏制通胀所急需的果断决定。

从某种程度上讲，这是因为政府刚刚逐步掌握了通胀的威胁程度。表面上看，由中国官方公布的消费者价格指数(CPI)衡量的通货膨胀似乎是由食品，而且主要是猪肉和食用油的价格上涨所造成。近几个月，CPI较去年同期的涨幅超过了8%（不过5月份有望降到8%以下）。除去食品，截至4月份的12个月中，总体通货膨胀率只有1.8%。

不过几乎没有人相信这个数据精确反映了市场上的价格趋势。医疗和教育行业的价格上涨也许没有充分地反映到CPI中，而且指数所参考的一揽子产品每五年才更新一次。今年第一季度，国内生产总值平减物价指数较去年同期的增幅升至超过8%。这个指标也是由政府计算得出，用来衡量总体通胀水平。

能源成本上涨尤其严重。自2007年11月政府最后一次上调汽油和柴油价格以来，原油价格已累计上涨了35%。炼油厂受到严重冲击的同时，加油站外再次排起了长队。北京方面的主导思想依然认为，所有这些价格上涨反映的都是一系列供方问题。不过现在价格下降的现象是越来越少见了，这也发出了警报信号：这次的通胀是货币现象，而非“生不逢时”的一系列供应短缺。

然而北京更严重的问题在于，政府并不急于采取果断的必要措施来解决这一问题，比如加息或是允许人民币进一步升值。如果时机把握得当，这些政策会使经济增长放缓。不过现在已经错过了最佳时机，因为经济可能已经在放缓了。虽然第一季度出口仍较去年同期增长了21%，但对美国的出口增长却基本持平，对欧洲的出口也看似疲弱。有报导称，因全球经济放缓，加上人民币升值提高了中国产品的海外售价，广东省的出口厂商纷纷关门歇业。

北京不愿上调利率的原因还有它担心加息会引发更多的热钱涌入中国进行投机。北京正在密切监测这类短期现金流，担心如果热钱全部撤离，可能会引起动荡。的确，资金正在涌入中国。仅第一季度，外汇流入总计可能就高达2,000亿美元，但官方公布的数据还是不太容易解读。不过这其中可能至少有一半是热钱。

北京正采取一些行政措施限制热钱流入，比如据报北京加强了对深圳等边境地区非居民持有的人民币帐户的监督管理。资本帐户的其他方面可能也会出台额外的控制措施。外汇政策也再次引起争议。虽然自2005年7月汇改以来，人民币兑美元汇率已累计上涨16%，但人民币兑欧元汇率却下跌了6.5%。去年人民币的实际有效升幅只有4%。鉴于对出口和热钱的担忧，有人认为北京已决定减缓人民币的升值步伐。虽然今年前三个月人民币兑美元汇率上涨了4%，但4、5月份却几乎没有变动。这促使离岸市场将未来12个月的人民币升值预期从12%下调至只有3%左右。这或许是个较低的估计──实际汇率仍在上升──但依然是一场胜负难分的争论。

如果上调利率和货币升值都不在考虑范围内，就几乎没有什么有效的工具来遏制通胀了。目前，北京已决定停止加息，并直接控制银行贷款的增速。如此一来，有着大型投资项目的公司找不到融资渠道，而一些现金紧张的中小型企业又难以维继，这无疑让他们充满了挫折感。但与此同时，贷款仍较去年同期增长了14%，实际贷款利率降到了零，外汇贷款出现了爆炸性增长。很难说这是一种“紧缩”的货币政策。

北京能够、也应该采取更多的措施。以中国目前的状况来看，大力遏制通胀虽然会很痛，但还不会造成灾难性后果。随着制造业薪酬水平仍在上升，很多企业从广东省搬到中国其他地区，目前还很难说人民币升值对就业的影响有多大。中国经济仍在以两位数的速度增长，因此对中国经济崩溃的担心似乎有些杞人忧天。中国在宏观经济领域面临的一大风险不是政府遏制通胀的力度过大，而是力度不够。通胀已经存在于中国的经济体系之中了，如果现在不采取坚决果断的行动，情况会进一步恶化。“黄金年代”已经结束了，至少目前如此。现在是该做出果断抉择的时候了。

（编者按：本文作者王志浩(Stephen Green)为渣打银行(Standard Chartered Bank)驻上海的中国问题研究负责人。）

国5月份消费者价格指数(CPI)较上年同期增长7.7%，增速有所减缓，但明显是受假日调整因素影响，通货膨胀严重的局面并未出现缓解。

中国国家统计局周四公布，5月份CPI较上年同期增长7.7%，增速慢于4月份的8.5%。

中国3月份CPI增速为8.3%，2月份为8.7%，1月份为7.1%。2月份增速是近12年来的新高。CPI的前一个高位为1996年5月份创下的8.9%。

统计局数据还显示，1－5月CPI较上年同期增长8.1%，增速低于1－4月的8.2%，但是仍然大大高于政府设定的4.8%这一2008年全年增速目标。

中国2007年CPI月度增速最高为当年11月的6.9%，最低为1月份的2.2%；2006年CPI月度增速最高仅为当年12月的2.8%，最低为3月份的0.8%。3月份0.8%的增速也是32个月低位。

中国2007年全年CPI较上年同期增长4.8%，增速大大高于2006年的1.5%，也明显高于政府设定的3%以内的2007年调控目标，创下1996年以来的最高年度增速。中国2006年全年CPI仅仅较上年同期增长1.5%，增速大大低于政府设定的3%的目标，也低于2005年全年1.8%的增速。

中国5月份CPI增速出现回落，明显是受五一黄金周取消的影响，因此当前通货膨胀严重的局面并未出现缓解。

中国自今年开始取消了五一黄金周假期，代之以劳动节和端午节小假期。而以往由于包括黄金周假期，5月份的物价增速通常会较高。2007年5月份CPI增速即为3.4%，高于4月份的3.0%。

因此，今年取消了五一黄金周假期，导致5月份物价数据并不具备统计可比性，更难以据此得出严重的通货膨胀已经出现缓解的结论。

同时，对四川发生的地震灾害的关注、社会舆论和官方对物价的控制，也导致商家的涨价冲动暂时受到抑制。此外，国际游资的流入势头也受地震这一不确定因素影响而暂时减缓。

不过，5月份CPI的增速依旧使中国连续18个月处于实际负利率之中，将5月份CPI增速与中国目前3.93%的税后基准利率相比较，负利率水平仍然高达惊人的377个基点。

如此巨大的负利率水平会促使消费者出于对物价继续上涨的恐惧而继续购买商品；同时使得生产者出于对未来价格继续上涨的预期而不断上调价格。这样一来，就会继续推高物价水平，反过来导致负利率局面愈加严重，形成恶性循环。

同时，国际游资不断变换炒作对象，也使得中国官方无所适从，忙于应对，使得抑制物价政策往往处于被动推出的地位。

鉴于中国官方迟迟未能拿出勇气和魄力，迅速果断地终止人民币升值的步伐并且将此前小幅加息的手段改为大幅加息以扭转负利率，中国通货膨胀的根源难以清除，因此中国未来物价前景仍然非常危险。

在黄金周和地震因素消失之后，加上近期华南部分地区出现的水灾，当前严重的通货膨胀仍有继续蔓延的趋势。

统计局数据还显示，一如市场普遍预期，食品价格增速的减缓带动CPI增速出现回落。

5月份，食品价格较上年同期增长19.9%，增速低于4月份的22.1%。其中，肉禽及其制品价格上涨37.8%，低于4月份的47.9%（其中猪肉价格上涨48.0%，低于4月份的68.3%）；油脂价格上涨41.4%，低于4月份的46.6%。不过，粮食价格上涨8.6%，高于4月份的7.4%。

受黄金周取消和四川地震影响，5月份旅游价格较上年同期下降2.2%，而4月份该类价格则上涨了2.4%。

5月份城市间交通费价格上涨3.0%，低于4月份的3.9%。

不过，5月车用燃料及零配件价格上涨8.1%，高于4月份的7.9%；酒类价格上涨7.4%，也高于4月份的7.1%。

居住类价格中，水、电及燃料价格上涨了7.9%，高于4月份的7.1%；建房及装修材料价格上涨了7.4%，高于4月份的7.1%；租房价格上涨4.4%，低于4月份的4.5%。

统计局还表示，5月份，农村消费价格上涨的速度继续快于城市。农村消费价格较上年同期增长了8.5%，而城市的价格增幅则为7.3%。

Chinese security forces are battling to contain antigovernment dissent across the Tibetan plateau, nearly three months after violent clashes started in Tibet's capital, Lhasa.

Mass detentions, searches and stepped up surveillance have largely quelled public demonstrations in Tongren, 1,200 kilometers from Lhasa, and in other Tibetan towns across Western China.



But Buddhist monks and other residents say those actions -- and a 'patriotic education' campaign that sometimes requires monks to renounce their exiled spiritual leader, the Dalai Lama -- are also fueling growing resentment in the region.

Now, Chinese authorities are worried about a possible resurgence of protests during a major, month-long Tibetan religious holiday that began Wednesday and the expected passage of the Olympic torch relay through Tibetan areas starting later this month.

Government officials ordered paramilitary police back onto the streets this past Sunday in Lhasa, where peaceful protests exploded into deadly riots in mid-March. Lhasa residents said the People's Armed Police resumed large-scale patrols Monday morning, and schools, banks and shopping centers were under heavy guard. Large numbers of troops have been moving into Tibet during the week by train, according to a person familiar with railroad operations. It isn't clear whether they are reinforcements or replacements for troops who are leaving.

Baima Chilin, the vice chairman of the Tibet Autonomous Region, told visiting Hong Kong and Taiwanese journalists Tuesday that the deployment was because 'Tibet separatists are likely to make new trouble.' He blamed new comments by the Dalai Lama, whom Beijing alleges incited the recent unrest, but didn't elaborate. Chinese officials and representatives of the Tibetan spiritual leader are expected to hold a new round of talks this month, but the exact date hasn't been announced.

The situation in Lhasa, and in a series of ethnic-Tibetan towns visited by two Wall Street Journal reporters last week, suggests that Tibetan anger -- and the threat of further unrest -- is a major problem for Beijing. While the outside focus on Tibet has faded in the wake of the May 12 earthquake in China, international attention is likely to return as the August Olympics approaches.

China's government has insisted that it acted properly to restore order after crowds of Tibetans attacked ethnic Han Chinese and their shops in Lhasa in March. Unrest then spread across Tibetan areas of Western China, leading to confrontations with thousands of paramilitary police rushed to the region.

Officials started a 'patriotic education' campaign among monks. Hao Peng, deputy Communist Party chief of Tibet, said in April that monks would be taught to see 'the real face of the Dalai Lama' and to 'uphold the banner of patriotism.'

The state-controlled Xinhua news agency reported Thursday that police last month arrested 16 monks allegedly involved in bomb attacks on a police post, an electricity substation and other targets in April. Xinhua didn't explain the delay in reporting the arrests.

For now, the anger in Tibetan areas is restrained by fear. Buddhist monks, who play a leadership role in Tibetan society and who have led many of the antigovernment protests since March, have become a main target of security forces.

Monks at three temples in Tibetan parts of Qinghai and Gansu provinces -- a region known in Tibetan as Amdo -- said last week that they had also been ordered to participate in the campaign. The reporters from the Journal were able to travel freely through the area over the course of two days, but the pervasive presence of security forces meant that many monks were reluctant to speak.

China's State Ethnic Affairs Commission declined to comment on the situation in Tibetan areas. The Ministry of Public Security, which runs the police, didn't respond to a request for comment.

At the Kumbum monastery near the Qinghai provincial capital, Xining, a 26-year-old monk said officials told the monks that the Dalai Lama was 'unclean' and showed pictures of him shaking hands with women. Tibetan Buddhist monks take vows of celibacy. Participants in the 'patriotic education' sessions were required to renounce the Dalai Lama.

'These officials kept saying we're not patriotic so we aren't qualified to be lamas,' said the monk, who ridiculed the statements in an interview but said that monks are under enormous pressure to conform. 'When the Communist Party has a gun to our head, we have to pretend. We can't say what we believe,' he said. 'Nearly every Tibetan wants independence,' the monk said. 'When the time is right, we will go to war,' he said, adding quickly: 'I know that's not how a lama is supposed to think.'

In Tongren, a trading town that is home to the more than 700-year-old Rongwo monastery, protests continued for more than a month after the Lhasa riots. The monastery is known as Longwu in Chinese. Residents in Tongren spoke of an ethnically tinged riot that broke out there in February after an argument between Tibetans and Muslim Hui residents of the town, well before the violence erupted in Lhasa.

Then, on April 17, more than 150 monks marched from the temple to the local government office. They asked authorities to release several monks who had been detained earlier. The marchers were surrounded by police and arrested, according to several monks who participated. Some are still being held, they said.

A 23-year-old monk said that when he was arrested, police twisted steel wire tightly around his wrists to handcuff him. He was then taken to the local police station, and forced to kneel outside for five days in the courtyard, during which time he was beaten and questioned about who organized the march. For the first three days of his detention, he was given no food or water, he said.

After his release on the fifth day, he was admitted to a hospital for treatment and only discharged last week. He said he still hasn't regained full sensation in his right hand because of damage by the steel-wire restraints.

Several monks described the severe beating of an elderly monk, believed to be more than 80 years old, who is recognized as the reincarnation of a famous religious teacher. That monk was only released from the hospital this week, they said.

While the protesting monks were in custody, paramilitary police surrounded the Rongwo monastery for 36 hours and searched its living quarters, prayer halls and sanctuaries, confiscating pictures of the Dalai Lama and other materials.

Now, local people also say that most of the paramilitary police that occupied Tongren in the days after the Lhasa riots have been replaced by plainclothes officers.

Monks said they now live in fear. Still, many are defiant. In one of the temple's main sanctuaries, before a towering image of the Buddha, sits a gilt-framed portrait of a smiling Dalai Lama. 'Every time someone from the government comes, we hide the picture,' said a monk tending the shrine.

At the sprawling Labrang monastery in the town of Xiahe in neighboring Gansu province, the doors to monks' quarters still bear chalk marks indicating they were searched during a late-April raid by police looking for pictures and videos of the Dalai Lama.

'Every Tibetan household has pictures of the Dalai Lama,' said one 28-year-old monk at the monastery. 'The only difference is whether you dare to put them up.' The monk said that about 100 of his fellow monks were arrested in the raid, which took place after midnight. Most were released the next afternoon, he said.

Monks at the monastery now are required to attend 'patriotic education' classes two to three times a week, in groups of 15 people, he said, adding that plainclothes security officers are ever-present. 'You never know if you are being followed. Most of us don't dare speak to anyone,' said the monk. Arrests never happen in daylight, he said. 'They always come after midnight.'

Restrictions on travel to Xiahe by outsiders have clearly eased since the immediate aftermath of the Lhasa riots and subsequent demonstrations by monks and ordinary Tibetans in the town. Police manning a checkpoint inspected the trunk of a car carrying two reporters to the town, but didn't check their identification.

In Tongren, local people also said that most of the paramilitary police that occupied the town in the days after the Lhasa riots have been replaced by plainclothes officers.

There were few uniformed police on the muddy streets during a recent visit. Two young camouflage-clad troopers, wearing bullet-proof vests and carrying riot-control guns meant to fire nonlethal rounds, guarded a government office building.

Some plainclothes police 'come to the temple acting like devotees,' said a 43-year-old monk at the Rongwo monastery. 'We have to be very careful,' he said. But, he added: 'Please come back. People should know what's happening here.'


Gordon Fairclough / Jason Leow

In the entranceway to the Fu Xing No. 2 Primary School, two rows of sobbing parents stood shoulder to shoulder, holding framed pictures of their children, ages 10 to 13, who had died.


Most neighboring buildings had sustained only minor damage, but the white-tiled primary school was reduced to rubble. The parents' vigil soon became a prime example of the anger bubbling up over what many believe was shoddy construction that contributed to the deaths of thousands of children.

Parents are casting about for whom to blame, with some faulting local officials. Beijing has ordered an investigation.

I drove north to tiny Wufu from Chengdu on Monday, a week after the Sichuan earthquake. Marking the road turnoff were colorful paper funeral wreaths and white banners with black Chinese characters that said, 'The children did not die in a natural disaster.'

As I entered the gates of the Fu Xing No. 2 school, some of the parents, noticing a foreigner, made their way toward me. Then, the entire group of 100 or so people parted to either side of the pavement. As the murmur of sobs picked up, I proceeded toward the rubble pile.

I felt a need to acknowledge a parent's loss more intimately. I approached a man wearing a yellow construction helmet, and I noticed he was wearing his daughter's school ID card around his neck. Initially I thought he had said through his tears that his daughter had been 'almost three,' and my mind wandered to my own young daughter. Just as I realized he had actually said 'almost 13,' the man was on his knees, gripping my arms and wailing.

Suddenly, all the other parents followed his lead by dropping to their knees. I was one of the only people in the school grounds standing. Feebly, I turned in circles, asking them to stand and saying I was sorry.

The man in the yellow helmet addressed me. He was Wang Zhengguo. His child was Wang Xiaoxue. The construction of the school was bad, like tofu, he said.

Shortly, many more parents were gripping my elbow, holding their photos at chest level with their other hands. They told me their stories and hurled accusations about problems with the school and a possible government cover-up.

Then, the crowd parted again. A woman wearing a bright white track suit approached, her eyes reddened. 'I'm a parent too,' she said. The woman, Zhang Qin, explained that the local government had been reorganized several months ago and she was now the deputy chief of the area, in charge of health and education.

The parents were soon pelting her with demands for information.

'Why was the support bar so thin?' 'Why did the school have only one entrance?' 'Why are nearby buildings still standing?'

Ms. Zhang had answers for none of it. 'As a government official, I can't say anything before it is investigated,' Ms. Zhang said. She said she felt as bad as any of the parents and would give up her own life if it would bring the students back.

Her eyes often welling up, Ms. Zhang stood face to face with upset citizens in a way I had never seen a government official in China do. As Ms. Zhang spoke, Mr. Wang made a record of the event by snapping pictures of Ms. Zhang with the camera in his cellphone.

One man shouted, 'Was this a natural disaster or a man-made disaster?' In unison, the parents shouted back: 'Man-made!'