Reading

The final verdict of the Oriental Group fraud case, which shocked the Chinese stock market, has finally been announced, leaving hundreds of millions of Chinese investors weeping in despair. Over four years, the company fabricated revenue amounting to 16.1 billion yuan, yet the boss was fined a mere 10 million yuan and banned for life from the securities market. The company’s stock was suspended for just one day, without even the pretense of a "severe penalty" like delisting to allow a graceful exit. Such lenient punishment for such egregious fraud is probably hard to find in any other country.

Looking at the ultimate gains and losses of this fraud case is even more tear-inducing. Oriental Group raised a total of 16.1 billion yuan in funds; the profits reaped by the boss, the company, and related securities firms from stock manipulation remain unknown, but even if calculated conservatively at a 5% return from insider-outsider collusion, it would not be less than 800 million yuan. Over the years, the state’s revenue from various taxes and this fine likely exceeds 1 billion yuan. Meanwhile, the losses suffered by investors are so staggering that they might sap the will to live: the stock price has plummeted from 20.49 yuan over a decade ago to a recent 0.59 yuan, a drop of over 97%, evaporating more than 72 billion yuan in market value, with an average loss per investor exceeding 500,000 yuan.

Yet, when the fraud was exposed, the company did not go bankrupt as is typical in similar cases worldwide. The boss neither committed suicide nor went to prison, and the company still holds over 30 billion yuan in total assets. The state not only suffered no financial loss but also pocketed an additional 39 million yuan in fines. The boss, the company, and the state all emerged with their coffers full, while the vast majority of investors were left with nothing—not even their underwear. The so-called penalties imposed on the fraudulent company and its boss are more of a mockery and trampling of the dignity of these investors. A 10-million-yuan fine is a drop in the bucket for the boss—less a punishment than an encouragement. The so-called lifetime ban from the securities market is a laughable deception! As long as the company remains listed, the boss is effectively in the securities market every day—how can this be called a lifetime ban? Moreover, for a crime as colossal as fabricating 16.1 billion yuan, the boss faces no legal consequences; opening a new securities account would be as easy as drinking water.

At this moment, we cannot help but think of the U.S. stock market, the Indian stock market, and even Taiwan’s stock market in our own country. In any part of the world, including these markets, let alone fabricating 16.1 billion yuan to defraud investors, even a fraud of 160 yuan would land someone in a police station for questioning. In the U.S. stock market, an accountant once misplaced a decimal point in an annual report audit, and after an investigation confirmed it was an honest mistake rather than intentional fraud, they were still permanently stripped of their securities business license for causing losses to investors. If a fraud of this magnitude occurred, the boss would likely either jump off a building or end up in prison, not sit at home counting money as is the case now.

It can be said that the vast majority of countries today, including Western nations like the U.S. and Europe, have adopted a series of modern political civilization systems: class action lawsuits, transparency of officials’ personal assets and public expenditure, and social welfare systems like free healthcare and education. Very few countries reject these three advanced political civilization systems, and even fewer designate those who advocate for them as targets of surveillance. As a self-proclaimed socialist nation and a major Eastern civilization, our country has even less reason to lag behind the world’s advanced political civilizations.

These three advanced political civilization systems are, in fact, fundamental components or baseline requirements of socialism, and before the 1980s, they were common knowledge and basic political ethics among Chinese citizens. However, since the 1980s, these advanced systems and principles were gradually negated by the right-wing reformist faction, which dominated public discourse under the banner of market-oriented reforms. In recent years, the left-wing "50-cent army" faction, also dominating discourse, has rejected these systems again under the guise of opposing Westernization, labeling them as capitalist. This is a key reason we oppose the left-wing 50-cent army.

The U.S. class action lawsuit system was refined and globalized after the 1980s by drawing on principles from China’s Cultural Revolution. The employee stock ownership system, promoted globally by the U.S., was perfected in the 1990s by incorporating strengths from China’s labor cooperative system; today, over 90% of U.S. companies have adopted it, essentially forming a system dominated by public ownership. In the 21st century, the free healthcare and education systems in most countries worldwide directly emulate China’s model, including India’s rise as the global center for generic drugs, which followed New China’s example. Some might argue that the transparency of officials’ assets in other countries didn’t originate from China—true, but that’s because Chinese officials back then had no extraordinary personal wealth, rendering such a system unnecessary.

Thus, although China no longer has these advanced political civilization systems, it cannot be denied that they originated from China. This raises a question: why were these systems abolished in China and why are they so hard to restore? It stems from a shared logic between the right-wing reformist faction and the left-wing 50-cent army: the sole criterion for truth is practice, and China’s unique high-speed economic growth proves that abolishing these systems was correct. This logic, upheld by both factions, has won praise from elite groups in many countries, who call for emulating China’s approach. Clearly, China’s role in leading political civilization has taken an opposite turn.

At the start of this century, the rise of China’s red tide forced the introduction of class action lawsuits in eight areas, including the stock market, healthcare, and municipal governance. In 2009, Deng Yujiao, a pedicure worker who stabbed two officials—one fatally—in self-defense, was declared not guilty, a testament to this political civilization progress. As the world’s most robustly growing economy, China’s stock market also glimpsed glorious hope, fueling national enthusiasm after the 18th Party Congress. Unfortunately, China’s fate remains turbulent, its trials unexhausted. The left-wing 50-cent army swiftly replaced the right-wing reformists as the dominant voice, controlling many red websites and misleading the nation and its people. This plunged the red tide into a low ebb, reversed political civilization, and shifted stock market oversight from regulating listed companies to policing online speech. It is against this backdrop that the Oriental Group case emerged as a bloody twilight of Eastern political civilization.

March 17, 2025