Poised for China’s elite, official shows off rare but possibly harmful public trait: charm

China official shows off rare public trait: charm

BEIJING — He arrived to the squeals of crushed reporters, who crammed into an entryway of China’s Great Hall of the People to see one of the country’s potential leaders.

Bo Xilai, the gang-busting Communist Party boss of Chongqing, walked in with the cheery charisma of a successful U.S. senator — a rare approach that in China could bring him trouble.

His appearance Saturday during the annual National People’s Congress gave Bo a chance to sparkle for the foreign and domestic media who crowded a meeting of the Chongqing delegation. His colleagues tried to ignore the chaos and droned on with their work reports as Bo arrived 40 minutes late, waving and smiling.

“I have a cold, so I can’t sing for you,” he later bantered with reporters after a 90-minute joint news conference with the Chongqing mayor, who sat quietly as question after question started, “Secretary Bo …”

China is used to the gray, scripted lockstep of its officials. State newspapers this week published a photo of the nine-member Politburo Standing Committee walking so precisely toward the camera in near-matching suits that some Chinese wondered online if it had been Photoshopped.

But now the country is watching the trim 60-year-old Bo and wondering if he can ride his rare popularity into a spot in the Communist Party leadership’s inner circle in the next couple of years — without angering the officials who could help him get there.

“By being a media-savvy leader and by reaching out to the public, Bo is actually gambling, because many of his peers will consider he simply wants to get all the credit for himself,” said Cheng Li, a China watcher at the Brookings Institution, the Washington think tank.

“A Chinese proverb may illustrate the risk of Bo’s unconventional approach: ‘People are afraid of being famous, just like the pig is afraid of being fat,” Cheng added.

Bo wasn’t asked directly about his unconventional style Saturday, but when talking about Chongqing, an industrial hub of 30 million people sprawled along the upper Yangtze River, he said, “You have to have confidence. A city should be the same.”

He has plenty of material for his own. His father was one of the revolutionary founders of Communist China, and Bo is a former commerce minister with experience tangling with the U.S. and other nations on trade issues.

Now as Communist Party boss in Chongqing, his crackdown on gangs has brought down a police chief and dozens of other officials, thrilling both state media and the public, which is deeply suspicious of the country’s widespread corruption. More than 3,000 people have been arrested.

“There are still 500 or 600 cases that still haven’t been broken,” Bo declared.

The party’s official People’s Daily newspaper named him “Man of the Year” in an online poll, and Li of the Brookings Institution ranks Bo as a top contender for the Politburo Standing Committee when much of the top leadership steps down in 2012.

Bo wouldn’t answer a shouted question after the news conference about his Politburo Standing Committee ambitions. But his approach Saturday was likely part of a campaign to make it there — with the public’s help.

Bo has a graduate degree in journalism, and he seemed aware of his image with the growing media attention. Noting that the cameras clicked busily when he held up two fingers while making a point during a question, he then made the thumbs-up sign.

In a country whose top leaders are usually seen on television either stone-faced or speechifying, some Chinese were left pleasantly confused.

“Oh, I don’t really understand all of this,” said Yao Fan, one of the army of young women who silently refill officials’ cups during meetings. She smiled at questions about the impression Bo gave, and blushed. “But I thought he treated the staff here well.”