By Hai Xing
One newspaper, Southern Weekly, and one magazine, Yanhuang Chunqiu—these two major media outlets, one based in southern China and one based in northern China, were once central pillars of public discourse in the era of China’s reform and opening-up. One could say that their past glory and aspirations actually embodied the glory and aspirations of the reform era itself; their subsequent decline and eventual silence signified the fading of that era.
For these two media outlets, promoting reform and peaceful transition in China was once a shared mission, though their positioning and styles were different. If Southern Weekly primarily approached its mission from the standpoint of journalistic professionalism, fulfilling the media’s role as a public instrument, then Yanhuang Chunqiu was more politically oriented. Now, we can finally say that it was not merely a media outlet, but rather a political club situated on the margins of China’s political system.
An Attempt at Organizing Without Formal Organization by Political Elders
As Mao Zedong once said, “No parties outside the Party is imperial thinking; no factions within the Party is sheer fantasy.” For an extraordinarily large ruling party, political and ideological divisions are inevitable; but the Chinese Communist Party, as a highly centralized ruling party, does not permit any such division—any open divergence is regarded as party-splitting and a grievous offense. In this context, any internal division within the party can only go underground.
The magazine Yanhuang Chunqiu was a product of this kind of intra-party division. It arose during the era of reform and opening up, when the domestic atmosphere was relatively relaxed—not only could differing voices within the Party surface, but these dissenting voices could even spontaneously congregate in some form; however, such a collection could not be presented as open organization, nor could they take on any clearly defined organizational form. So then, why not use the form of a media outlet or a peer-edited journal? Thus came the magazine Yanhuang Chunqiu.
The publicly acknowledged founder and operator of Yanhuang Chunqiu was Du Daozheng, a minister-level official who once headed China’s General Administration of Press and Publication. But in reality, Du was mainly the public face; behind Du stood an invisible council of elders, whose members were mostly retired senior figures from within the Party.
Among them, the most important figure was Xiao Ke. Xiao Ke was a top-level Party elder; he graduated from the fourth class of the Whampoa Military Academy and participated in the Nanchang Uprising. At 25, he became commander of the Red Eighth Army; at 27, he led the Red Sixth Army Corps—his credentials were no less than those of Lin Biao or Peng Dehuai. Due to personal tensions with Mao Zedong, Xiao Ke was not granted the title of Marshal after the founding of the People’s Republic of China, but was given only the rank of General. However, he was highly respected and widely recognized within both the Party and the military. His long marginalization gave him the space to calmly observe and reflect, resulting in a clear understanding of the system.
Xiao Ke was not fighting alone. Within the Party there was a group of similarly clear-eyed senior figures who joined the Communist Party with idealistic hopes of overthrowing the Kuomintang’s one-party rule and building a democratic New China. However, they deviated from their idealism after the founding of the People’s Republic. After the Cultural Revolution, which served as a rude awakening, they once again embarked on the path of pursuing freedom and democracy. “When will constitutional governance truly begin?”—this famous line by Party elder Li Rui, once Mao’s personal secretary, encapsulated the shared hope of these Party elders.
It was precisely this group of veteran cadres who constituted the invisible council of elders behind Yanhuang Chunqiu. In addition to Xiao Ke and Li Rui, other founders included former Minister of Defense Zhang Aiping, former Vice Premier Tian Jiyun, former Vice Chairman of the National People’s Congress and renowned sociologist Fei Xiaotong, He Fang (former secretary to Zhang Wentian), former Deputy President of Xinhua News Agency Li Pu, and former Vice President of the Chinese Academy of Social Sciences Li Shenzhi. Most of them were former subordinates of General Secretaries Hu Yaobang and Zhao Ziyang. After Hu and Zhao fell from power, these individuals became the principal custodians of their ideological legacy.
Centered around these figures, the remnants of the reformist and democratic factions within the Party gradually regrouped and began to build influence. In many ways, Yanhuang Chunqiu served both as their house publication and as a legitimate platform for them to gather. One could also call it a kind of club.
This was not a political organization, nor did it belong to any party or faction. But it was not completely unstructured either. In China, all media must be overseen by an official sponsoring body, and Yanhuang Chunqiu was no exception. To meet this requirement, Xiao Ke established the “Chinese Yanhuang Culture Research Association” in May 1991 and became its first president. Yanhuang Chunqiu was officially affiliated with this association. In reality, the association was a formal organization, though it appeared under the banner of culture rather than politics. In other words, to organize themselves, Xiao Ke and the other elders used every ounce of their political capital and the unique gray space afforded by the reform era.
Just two months after the founding of the association, Yanhuang Chunqiu launched its first issue. At that time, only two years had passed since the 1989 Tiananmen crackdown. The Communist Party was in the midst of a major campaign against “peaceful revolution,” far-left ideologues were rampant, and the domestic political climate was extremely harsh. Deng Xiaoping had not yet undertaken his southern tour, which eventually restarted economic reforms. In such a moment, to establish Yanhuang Chunqiu and rally reformist forces was a testament to the courage and wisdom of Xiao Ke and his peers.
Although the founders of Yanhuang Chunqiu were all high-ranking officials within the system, the magazine itself was not part of the system. It had no formal staffing quotas—its personnel were entirely on contract. It received no state funding or government subsidies; all costs were covered by reader subscriptions. It had no government-provided office space; all premises were rented from the market. It was a quintessentially market-driven publication, with a distinctly grassroots character. Its only official connection lay in the identities of its founders and the special government-approved publication license granted through their personal influence. In this sense, Yanhuang Chunqiu operated in a gray zone—neither fully official nor fully unofficial.
Occupying this liminal space between the system and civil society, it spoke to both realms. On one hand, it communicated with those inside the system, influencing especially those in the upper echelons of power; on the other hand, it addressed the general public outside the system, shaping broader social discourse. This was precisely the magazine’s founding vision.
Later developments would prove that they had realized this vision. Together with Southern Weekly based in Guangzhou, Yanhuang Chunqiu formed a subtle resonance. One newspaper in the south and one magazine in the north—working in tandem across the country—were once an enduring force advocating and rallying support for China’s reform and opening-up.
Xiao Ke
The Spark of Common Sense: From Historical Reflection to the Enlightenment of Freedom
Yanhuang Chunqiu made several unique contributions to the intellectual history of contemporary China. One such contribution to contemporary Chinese intellectual history was its effort to recover historical truth, especially regarding the history of the Communist Party and the Chinese nation. This mission aligned with founder Xiao Ke’s original intention. According to memoirs by those who worked with him, Xiao repeatedly emphasized that history must not be distorted by political needs: “History is history. It cannot be deliberately twisted. There is only one truth, and it should not be changed to serve political ends.” He believed that historical fact was the highest authority, and that historians must seek truth and speak sincerely.
Given the constraints of China’s speech environment, Yanhuang Chunqiu pursued these principles to the greatest extent possible. Though highly political in essence, the magazine presented itself primarily as a publication of culture and history, with the stated aim of documenting significant historical figures and events. However, the subjects it chose to focus on were often the very topics that official government historiography either downplayed or ignored altogether. For instance, a 2013 article titled “The ‘Specialty Product’ Trade During the Yan’an Period” by Hong Zhenkuai addressed the Communist Party’s opium trade in Yan’an—an aspect of history the state has long refused to acknowledge.
From the founding of the Communist Party’s rule to the so-called “strike hard” campaigns of the 1980s, spanning decades of suffering in China’s history, Yanhuang Chunqiu never shied away from covering these topics. Regular subjects included the suppression of counterrevolutionaries, the Anti-Rightist Campaign, and the Cultural Revolution. In addition, the magazine frequently focused on other high-risk topics that most mainstream Chinese media avoided.
For example, chapters revealing the truth about land reform include: “Dong Shijin’s Letter to Mao Zedong on Land Reform,” “The ‘Bullfighting Spectacle’ at Caijiaya during Land Reform,” and “Torture during the Jin-Sui Land Reform.”
Another example is the persistent inquiry into the truth about the Great Famine. In this area, Yanhuang Chunqiu was especially diligent and relentless. Just looking at some article titles around 2010 gives us a glimpse: “How Zeng Xisheng Covered Up the Great Famine,” “Two Famines in Shandong during the Great Leap Forward,” “Report on Abnormal Deaths during the Great Famine in Pengshui County,” “Starvation Deaths in Guangxi Recorded in Local Chronicles,” “Death Figures in Local Chronicles during the Great Famine: A Production Team’s Death Records,” “Farmers’ Reactions during the Great Famine,” and “Debunking the Argument that 30 Million Starvation Deaths is a Rumor.”
The key point is that these articles were often written by authoritative figures or firsthand witnesses, lending them high credibility. Over more than 20 years, these influential and major articles appeared continuously and abundantly.
Another major contribution of Yanhuang Chunqiu was its role in popularizing basic principles of political liberalism: freedom, democracy, the rule of law, and constitutional governance.
If the 1980s in China were characterized by a renewed interest in humanism—after decades of ideological indoctrination—then the 1990s marked the emergence of liberal thought. One of the magazine’s spiritual leaders, Li Shenzhi, became a key symbol of this liberal turn. A former senior government adviser, Li had once supported the regime but later became a vocal advocate for democracy and universal values. His transformation reflected a broader shift among many Party elders.
From this turn, Yanhuang Chunqiu developed a coherent liberal-democratic ethos. It promoted common sense and civic education. Articles in the early 2010s include: “On Freedom of Expression and Freedom of Speech,” “Revisiting Constitutional Guarantees of Freedom of Publication,” “The Fate of Press Freedom in China,” “Taxation and Political Civilization in the West,” “American Partisanship,” and “Constitutional Democracy Should Be a Basic Consensus.”
The magazine was also one of the few Mainland Chinese publications that openly called for a reassessment of Hu Yaobang and Zhao Ziyang—two former Communist Party leaders who had been ousted for their reformist leanings. In 2005, on the 90th anniversary of Hu Yaobang’s birth, the magazine ran a commemorative issue titled “Hu Yaobang in Our Hearts,” featuring tributes from several Party elders including Tian Jiyun and Li Rui. This echoed a similar article in China Youth Daily, and both pieces were harshly censured by the Central Propaganda Department. That issue of Yanhuang Chunqiu was briefly banned but later allowed to resume publication. Since then, despite the pressure, Yanhuang Chunqiu continued publishing articles praising Hu Yaobang.
Discussions of Zhao Ziyang, the former Premier and General Secretary who opposed the 1989 crackdown, were even more sensitive than the mentions of Hu Yaobang, but the magazine did not shy away. In 2007, Tian Jiyun published an article titled “Memories from the Courtyard of the State Council” in Yanhuang Chunqiu praising Zhao and recalling Zhao’s efforts to promote frugality and combat waste. The article was banned from the internet and other media were prohibited from reprinting it, but Yanhuang Chunqiu continued to publish other articles honoring Zhao in subsequent years—an unprecedented move in the mainland media landscape.
In my view, Yanhuang Chunqiu’s call for a re-evaluation of Hu and Zhao was not primarily driven by concerns for their personal reputations. While the political elders undoubtedly harbored deep affection for Hu and Zhao, their risky re-evaluation was primarily based on political considerations rather than mere nostalgia. They were ultimately interested in preserving the Hu-Zhao legacy—that is, the intra-system reformist line represented by Hu and Zhao.
Extending this, one of Yanhuang Chunqiu’s crucial tenets was its advocacy for the Hu-Zhao legacy. In essence, it sought to offer a new political alternative beyond the prevailing mainstream choices of the time, thereby opening up new possibilities for China’s peaceful transformation.
The elders of Yanhuang Chunqiu revered Hu and Zhao, but they did not stop there; they significantly expanded upon their ideas. First, they explicitly advocated for bidding farewell to the Stalinist model and the so-called “socialism with Chinese characteristics,” instead suggesting learning from Northern European social democratic parties. This led to the powerful political commentary by Xie Tao, former Vice President of Renmin University of China, titled “Democratic Socialism and China’s Future,” published in the second issue of 2007. The article argued that the highest achievement of Marxism is democratic socialism, that democratic socialism embodies the hope of mankind, and that only democratic socialism can save China. Upon its publication, this article caused a stir in Chinese intellectual circles. Second, they explicitly advocated for constitutional socialism. From 2011 to 2013, Yanhuang Chunqiu published several political commentaries on this same theme, including Xiao Gongqin’s “My View on Constitutional Socialism,” He Liancheng’s “Constitutional Socialism Should Promote Civil Rights,” and Tong Zhiwei’s “The 1982 Constitution and Constitutionalism.”
In China, discussions about constitutionalism emerged on a relatively large scale around 2008, initially confined to the legal community. Yanhuang Chunqiu’s high-profile involvement brought the rather sensitive issue of constitutionalism, and the debates among different ideological factions, to the public, thus popularizing the idea of democratic constitutionalism in China. Participants in the debate included the “anti-constitutionalism faction” with strong official backing, the “European and American constitutionalism faction” primarily composed of liberal intellectuals, and the “socialist constitutionalism” faction. The latter advocated for advancing constitutionalism within the existing system by acknowledging or not challenging the constitutional legitimacy of the Communist Party’s long-term rule, explicitly defining the scope of Party power through itemized listing in the constitution, and simultaneously specifically regulating the exercise procedures of Party power through legislation.
In this debate, Yanhuang Chunqiu sided with the constitutional socialist faction, reflecting its fundamental position of intra-system reformism. Because the debate popularized constitutional common sense both inside and outside the system, it did not initially trigger extreme alarm among the authorities. However, in April 2013, the situation abruptly changed; high-level intervention occurred, and the topic of constitutionalism in Chinese media became a forbidden zone, with no further room for discussion.
This kind of proactive intervention in ideological debates was not a first for Yanhuang Chunqiu. After the Wenchuan earthquake in 2008, when universal values were widely criticized nationwide, Yanhuang Chunqiu conspicuously supported universal values, publishing an article by Gao Zhanxiang, an elder of the Ministry of Culture, in May 2009 titled “Universal Values Cannot Be Completely Denied.” Despite such open defiance, the authorities did not react.
Another significant contribution of Yanhuang Chunqiu was its unremitting call for political system reform in the direction of constitutional democracy. Based on incomplete statistics, from 2001 until Yanhuang Chunqiu was finally shut down in 2016, there were fifty to sixty articles advocating for constitutional democracy and political system reform. Over its 25-year history, the magazine published a vast number of such articles. Regrettably, these efforts ultimately failed to bring about change. When a nation begins to regress, even the loudest voices are rendered powerless.
Among these related articles, one of the most noteworthy is Yanhuang Chunqiu’s January 2013 editorial, “Constitutionalism is the Consensus for Political System Reform.” This piece emphasized that political reform is a “movement to uphold the constitution,” clearly echoing Southern Weekly’s New Year editorial, “The Chinese Dream, the Constitutional Dream.” It was this very Southern Weekly editorial that ignited wide debate. Yanhuang Chunqiu bravely stepped forward at this critical moment, not only supporting its Southern Weekly colleagues but also boldly displaying its own convictions. This was an act of great courage.
It is also worth noting that many of the authors of these articles were leading intellectuals of China at the time. Among the “four elders of Chinese jurisprudence,” besides the highly action-oriented but less vocal lawyer Zhang Sizhi, the other three elders—Guo Daohui, Li Buyun, and Jiang Ping—all appeared on the list of authors. Mr. Guo Daohui, who was over eighty at the time, even wrote numerous articles, demonstrating his unwavering dedication.
Du Daozheng
The Arrival of Misfortune: The Inevitable Fate of Closure
Its distinctive positioning ultimately determined the fate of Yanhuang Chunqiu. Its downfall was merely a matter of time.
Before 2008, Yanhuang Chunqiu generally operated relatively peacefully. This was partly due to the more relaxed domestic political environment at the time and partly because a number of political elders, particularly Xiao Ke, were still alive. Even if the highest authorities were deeply displeased, they had to exercise restraint. On October 24, 2008, General Xiao Ke passed away, and the fortunes of Yanhuang Chunqiu immediately began to reverse. In November of that year, senior officials from the Ministry of Culture advised Director Du Daozheng to retire, but he refused. From May 22, 2009, the Yanhuang Chunqiu website became inaccessible until it resumed normal operation on May 31. On January 4, 2013, around 9 AM, the Yanhuang Chunqiu website was directly shut down. On September 10, 2014, high-level Communist Party officials directly intervened, forcibly changing the magazine’s supervising unit.
Concurrently, an organized online smear campaign against Yanhuang Chunqiu magazine erupted. In 2015, National Defense Reference magazine published an article by Gong Yun, a researcher at the Chinese Academy of Social Sciences’ Marxism Institute, titled “Exposing Yanhuang Chunqiu.” The article accused Yanhuang Chunqiu of operating under a legal banner and using the guise of objectivity and fairness to “greatly mislead and deceive ordinary people, especially retired cadres.” It further claimed that Yanhuang Chunqiu “vilifies Mao Zedong, vilifies heroes, and nihilizes history, effectively overturning the history of New China and preparing public opinion for pulling China back to capitalism.” This article was retweeted by the People’s Liberation Army Daily’s Weibo account on June 3 of the same year, sparking intense controversy. All of this was, of course, a deliberate influence of public opinion.
Finally, in July 2016, Yanhuang Chunqiu was completely taken over by the authorities. Its twenty-five-year history came to an abrupt end. Yet its glory and aspirations do not end there—they continue to illuminate the path ahead, a beacon for the unfinished cause of freedom.
Recommended archives:
Yanhuang Chunqiu (The China Unofficial Archives has collected all issues of Yanhuang Chunqiu from 1991 to 2016. Readers are welcome to read and download the PDFs.)