There are a number of factors contributing to the decline of the C9.
After the 20032004 crisis catalysed their collaboration, no other major crisis consolidated the need for close, joint actions. For instance, in 2010, another round of 985 funding was
distributed to universities, followed by the MoE and MoF’s announcement of China’s
Education Reform and Development Guideline (2010-2020), which promised that Project 985 funding would be extended to 2020 (L. Xu, 2014a).92 The longer-term security placated the concerns of the university presidents. Despite their common interests in many other policy issues, the urgency, motivation and incentives to invest in collective lobbying actions declined.
92 In 2010, the national strategy of ‘building world-class universities’ and Project 985 were strengthened in the
‘Medium and Long-term National Education Reform and Development Plan (2010-2020)’ as a policy priority (Xinhuanet, 2011).
This was particularly true of the most powerful universities PKU and Tsinghua which had already secured the ‘top two’ status and enjoyed special policy privileges.
The political and regulatory environment also inhibited collective action. The powerful interest group faced political scrutiny, scepticism and restrictions from the state, which were
exacerbated by the complaints and pressure of other universities.
In the early years, the MoE was an important ally which helped cultivate and formalise the C9 coalition and was heavily involved in its initial development. Yet, from 2009, the MoE became increasingly reluctant to legitimise the C9 group, despite its rising international reputation and domestic profile in recent years. Some key officials who personally supported the
establishment of the C9 had left their senior positions, whereas their successors held a more sceptical view about the group. There was also a decreased urgency for a policy collaboration between the MoE and C9 universities on Project 985, compared to 2003 and 2004. Using the C9’s collective influence to lobby the central leadership and other ministries thus became much less important for the MoE.
In the meantime, some universities vigorously attacked and criticised the so-called ‘exclusive university presidents club’, urging the MoE to dismiss the group and to maintain equity and fairness in the sector. In public meetings and official documents, the MoE avoided identifying or differentiating C9 universities from others in the sector.
Most importantly, according to university executives, the MoE became increasingly suspicious of the C9, interpreting its ‘collective policy voice’ as ‘a political challenge or organised
resistance against the authority’, ‘ganging up to resist the central control’, a ‘potential threat of authority’ and ‘source of instability’. It refused to support a C9 permanent secretariat. A C9 university president told me that the government was constantly making disapproving gestures towards C9:
It has often signalled us [presidents] many times that ‘I know you exist, but do not try to gang up on me, or communicate with me in this collective, group form.’ Collective actions really touch the nerves of the government and cause much political sensitivity. In 2012, Deputy Education Minster Du Yubo addressed the annual C9 symposium. The speech acknowledged the nine universities’ important national roles and its international
collaboration, which seemingly signalled an official acceptance of the C9 as a formal alliance. However, Du and other government officials walked out of the conference venue as soon as they finished the government speeches, unwilling to stay and listen to the policy discussions during the presidents’ meeting. It was generally seen as a snub for the ideas of the C9. Such a
negative attitude significantly limited the C9’s lobbying opportunities and capacity. After all, a meaningful and effective policy dialogue requires an open ear on the government’s side. As several university leaders told me, the government might have informally accepted the C9 as a platform for mutual collaboration, but it would always remain wary and hostile about this type of organised form of collective policy advocacy and reluctant to legitimise or engage with it. In practice, the MoE silently restrained this interest group to protect its own authority and maintain the original order of the sector. A university director of policy explained to me:
The MoE has its concerns. China never had such an influential university coalition. The MoE does not want the C9 to exist in a formal, structured form, as it [C9] would become too substantial and independent. It would be too difficult for the MoE to keep it under control. In this sector controlled by the government, an independent university association has never been allowed to exist in China’s history.
Another university executive said:
If several top national universities are leading the talk and collectively running the show, their group could become, or be seen, almost as the second Chinese Ministry of Education or something similarly powerful… The officials feel threatened and disgruntled.
Furthermore, there was an increasing split of interests between the ‘two’ and the ‘seven’. According to Hula, there are three types of coalition members: core members, players, and tag-alongs. They vary considerably depending on their long-term and short-term goals. Core members seek a bill or a key element of legislation. Players are satisfied if they can alter a paragraph or two in a bill. The tag-alongs lend their support, even though everyone recognises that they will not marshal their membership or be particularly active. In the words of one lobbyist: ‘All right, as a favour, use our name’ (Hula, 2000). This pattern was truly reflected in the C9’s internal dynamics. The most influential, privileged members, Tsinghua and PKU, shifted their role from proactive core players of the early years to passive tag-alongs with decreasing enthusiasm and involvement, especially at the policy front. The other seven had more to gain from the prestigious group’s collective influence, and hence became core players to advance the C9’s policy agendas and joint actions. In this process, all members
demonstrated a strong self-interested focus.
In the early years, the seven were the two’s important allies who helped secure the future of Project 985 during the 20032004 crisis. However, Tsinghua and PKU had maintained the view that they were in the topmost position of the hierarchical sector and in a more advanced development phase than the other seven. They already enjoyed a wide range of special policy
privileges, and had close, more direct ties with the officialdom. Therefore, their common interests with the seven on policies, as well as their motivation and need to use the C9 on policy issues, remained relatively low. The exception was provided by common concerns about the new funding rounds of Project 985, which needed a collective strategy and voice.
Additionally, the two felt that this C9 brand diluted their superior status, and their influence was being capitalised by the other members to their own advantage. Hence, over the years, the two institutions strengthened policy lobbying collaboration with each other to advance their mutual interests and shape government decisions, and had been highly successful. One interviewee from Tsinghua explained their policy partnership and why the two often ‘acted separately’ without talking to the seven:
We [Tsinghua and PKU] often receive early notice and intelligence on policies that the central government is developing. When we share common views on policy issues, we often have to take immediate joint actions and tackle them before decisions are finalised and things are locked in, otherwise it will be too late. We cannot afford to waste any time by consulting other universities. Despite complaints from other institutions, we believe that we are doing a service to all universities.
Due to their significant individual influence, the interference or reluctance of PKU and Tsinghua undermined and dampened any collective lobbying attempts by the C9 group. For example, when PKU and Tsinghua became the C9 chair in 2011 and 2014 respectively, their lack of enthusiasm and commitment weakened the C9 group activities. They shortened and downsized the C9 meetings, and downplayed or postponed joint activities or decisions. Such an attitude seemed to imply that they intended to phase out the coalition. The other seven, on the other hand, had remained motivated and proactive in influencing policies through the C9 platform and a cohesive group action to maximise chances of success and seek competitive advantages.
In 2011, for instance, a few C9 presidents from the seven suggested that they should co-sign and submit a joint letter to the MoE with recommendations on the new 2011 Scheme and other issues including increasing the government funding rate for each university student. One of the top two universities strongly disagreed and insisted that other national universities would have similar complaints and concerns, if not more than the C9 members, on these issues, hence the C9 should leave them with other universities to handle, as ‘a larger crowd would make a louder noise’. It is worth noting that PKU and Tsinghua had received the highest level of funding rate per student in China. In the end, this lobbying proposal was dismissed by the two.
The coordination and effectiveness of the C9 were exacerbated by the lack of leadership and stability in the group, largely because of the governments’ constraints over university leaderships and the group’s formal presence (e.g. permanent secretariat). This is closely related to the political and regulatory restrictions which I mentioned earlier. For example, the central appointment system of university leaderships made the turnovers and tenures of university presidents unpredictable and irregular (see Chapter 2), causing disruptions to the universities’ consistent policy strategies and hindering the group’s joint plans and long-term commitments.
In addition, university leaders’ work experience with the state and personal attributes (e.g. personality) influenced their decision-making and actual role in group lobbying.93 For instance, some presidents had previously participated in the initial C9 meetings of the earlier years as the government’s representatives from the State Council and the MoE before becoming C9 presidents themselves. They were the target of collective and individual lobbying by
universities as government officials before moving to the ‘other side’.94 Many of these officials- turned-presidents were experienced and assertive about collective lobbying. However, during 20102014, many of these presidents left their positions, and their less experienced
successors were more cautious about group lobbying, and avoided any risks of confrontation with the MoE. Their careers were controlled by the state, and their personal and professional relationships with officials were vital for their personal and institutional interests. Before investing in any joint action, these university presidents made careful assessment about the
93 ‘Face’ (mianzi 面子) and peer pressure, for example, cornered a reluctant university president to agree to co-sign
a C9 letter to the government on some policy issues, but his immediate successor has a stronger personality with a more sceptical view on collective actions. Since his appointment, he had skipped several group meetings and downplayed his university’s role in this group.
94 Here are some examples: before appointed as President of Zhejiang University in 2006, Professor Yang Wei (C9
Chair in 20082009, and again in 20122013) attended C9 meetings as head, the State Council Office of National Academic Degrees Committee (double as the MoE Department of Postgraduate Education). This is an influential governmental department, managing Chinese academic degrees, research programs, and some important funding projects, such as Projects 985 and 211. He served this government role from 20042006. After his term as ZJU President in 20062013 ended, Yang Wei moved back to the government and was appointed head of the National Science Foundation of China in 2013. As a new official, he again attended the C9 presidents’ meeting in late 2013. Prior to becoming President of Fudan University in 2009, Professor Yang Yuliang (C9 Chair in 20102011) also attended C9 meetings as head, the State Council Office of National Academic Degrees Committee which he served in 20062009. Professor Zhou Qifeng formerly filled the same role in 20012004 before taking up the position of PKU President in 2008. Professor Zhang Jie, President of Shanghai Jiao Tong was formerly a head at the Chinese Academy of Sciences at the State Council during 20032006.
risks and consequences involved, including whether it would offend or upset the government, and what was the best and safest option for their universities’ interest and their own careers. As a result, the group lacked an effective leadership to carry out its collective plans. In 2012, the ‘seven’ C9 presidents agreed that a more coordinated action was necessary for policy advocacy. Despite the pushback of the MoE, they suggested that this group needed to set up ‘a secretariat or a dedicated officer’ in Beijing or Shanghai to facilitate government engagement and undertake ‘scientific’ intervention from the C9 in the form of data analysis, background reports and joint submissions. They even agreed on an annual budget and membership levies.95 However, nobody raised a hand to take the lead or offer to follow up. The presidents had too much else to worry about. The plan faded away.