It was the smallest of collisions, but the minor traffic accident between a top-of-the-range BMW and a rickety farmer’s tractor has prompted the Chinese authorities to take drastic action to prevent a head-on collision between the top and bottom classes of its increasingly divided society.
”The BMW incident”, as it is now widely known, forced the authorities to hold a retrial and made the Propaganda Ministry slam the brakes on Internet chat rooms filled with public resentment.
This thoroughly modern Chinese tale of social inequality, dubious justice and appalling driving began innocuously one day last October when Liu Zhongxia, a peasant, and her husband Dai Yiquan were rattling through Harbin, in Heliongjiang province, in a tractor piled high with onions.
A few years ago they would have enjoyed the freedom of almost empty roads, but China’s booming economy is increasing the traffic at the rate of more than 20% a year.
In one of the many changes of direction prompted by oncoming cars, Liu scratched the wing mirror of a new BMW X5, starting an altercation that has still to die down six months later.
The details of the road-rage clash have become the stuff of myth, but according to the local media, the driver of the BMW, Su Xiuwen, hit Liu with her purse and screamed: ”How can you afford to scratch my car?”
The furious woman — the wife of a business tycoon — then got back in her car, slammed her foot on the accelerator and ran over Liu, killing her and injuring a dozen other bystanders.
Public anger at this display of petulance was only increased by the trial on December 20, when Su was cleared of manslaughter and given a suspended sentence. In a hearing that lasted only two hours, the court accepted her claim that she had accidentally put her car into the wrong gear.
But, with little faith in the judicial system, many people are convinced that the case was decided by bribes.
Not one witness turned up to testify, not even Dai, who accepted an out-of-court settlement of yuan 80 000 (about R63 000) — equivalent of eight years’ wages — for the death of his wife.
He told reporters he had had little choice. ”I told police that she drove into the crowd on purpose,” he said. ”But no one dared stand up as a witness. I had to give up because I was helpless. I have no money, no power.”
The same could not be said of Su, whose husband, Guan Mingbo, has earned a fortune as a property developer. As well as buying a car worth R705 000, the couple splashed out on a personalised licence plate bearing the number 6666, which is considered auspicious in China.
They also admitted buying Su’s licence by paying an experienced driver to take the driving test on her behalf.
Millions were willing to believe the rumours circulating on the Internet that Su had threatened to run people down before the accident and that she had been able to escape punishment because her husband was related to a senior official in the local authority.
While such accusations lack evidence and have been denied by the parties involved, they fit a growing public belief that wealth equals corruption in a country that once prided itself on communist equality but is now racked by suspicions that officials are exploiting their control of land, the courts and the media to grow rich and escape justice.
The feeling is particularly strong in Harbin, the heart of the rust-belt in north-eastern China, where millions of workers have been laid off from state-owned enterprises since the switch to a market economy.
But it is spreading everywhere with the growing unease about the disparity between the urban rich and the rural poor, which rose last year to a record 4:1. ”If it were a rich family who lost a member like that, they would pursue justice in the courts,” a woman who gave her name as Mrs Yang said in Beijing last week. ”But the poor don’t have the power to fight back.”
Public anger was apparent on the Internet, which is now accessible by 78-million people and has become the main outlet for dissent. At the peak of interest after the trial, more than 200 000 comments were posted on chat-room sites.
Fearful that the BMW incident might become a cause célèbre, the authorities ordered newspapers to play down or stop their coverage. The Propaganda Department also instructed chat rooms to tone down the contributions they were receiving.
To placate opinion, Heilongjiang province ordered a retrial. But it was reported this week that the outcome was the same. With newspaper and website editors now under orders to dampen the emotions aroused by the affair, the verdict has been given scant coverage. But experts said it was unlikely to be the last China heard of such disturbances.
”This case highlights the growing social concern about the gap in economic status,” said Qu Wenyong, a Heilongjiang University sociologist.
”People believe the rich can influence the law behind the scenes with money. More cases like the BMW furore are likely to happen in the future.” — Â