Tie Ning, President of the Chinese Writers' Association leaves a conference room at a five-star hotel in Chongqing on March 30. During the Association's annual meeting, 250 participants are reportedly chauffeured around in Audi sedans, stay in presidential suites and are entertained with 2,000-yuan ($295) feasts at every table. The extravagant expenditures have drawn fierce criticism.

By Zuo Xuan

Two days after a deadly earthquake in Yushu, Qinghai Province, on April 14, author Cao Wenxuan was at a primary school in Shandong Province to promote his new children's book.

Cao is a high-ranking official in the controversial Chinese Writers' Association (CWA), but his book promotion tour infuriated another fairy tale writer, Zheng Yuanjie, who had been a member of the professional association for 21 years.

Cao's profit-minded book tour struck Zheng as insensitive to the national outpouring of sympathy for the earthquake victims, Zheng wrote in his blog.

Noting that he had donated 1 million yuan ($147, 601) to the rescue effort, Zheng wrote, "I was disappointed with Cao's indifference to the earthquake-stricken area and could no longer remain hand in hand with him in the same organization."

Zheng then announced his resignation from the writer's association and added another reason: "This association has been crammed with a good many officials who know nothing about literature. How can it function to facilitate good writing as it has claimed to do?"

The organization that Zheng lashed out against, called Zuoxie in Chinese, is a government-run agency established in 1947 to "connect the Party with writers and boost the socialist cultural industry," as stated in its official mandate. CWA currently boasts 9,301 members across the nation, including many well-known authors such as Louis Cha, better known by his pen name Jin Yong, a Hong Kong-based novelist who writes of martial arts and chivalry, and Mo Yan, author of Red Sorghum.

The literary feud between Zheng and Cao suddenly thrust the association into the worst crisis of confidence in its history.

Famed children's author Zheng Yuanjie Photos: CFP

Quitting in protest

Beginning in 2003, several authors have resigned from various branches of the Association, citing its "corrupt and bureaucratic style" as a reason to quit. In the summer of that year, writers Yu Kaiwei and Huang Heyi resigned from the writers' association in Hunan Province. Following in their footsteps, Li Rui, a renowned writer and former vice-chairman of the writers' association in Shanxi Province, nullified his membership.

"The official rank and hierarchy of the association is extracting the last drop of blood from Chinese literature and elections within the organization become a puppet play in the hands of powerful people," wrote Li, explaining the reasons for his resignation in an e-mail to his friends after the announcement.

The feud with Cao was the second time that Zheng, the sole writer of a popular children's monthly King of Fairy Tales, has disavowed his membership in the writers' association through his blog posts. Last year, he rescinded his membership with the writers' association in Beijing, a subordinate branch of CWA.

On learning of Zheng's withdrawal, Chen Qirong, spokesman for the Association responded, "He was making use of media hype by those announcements. There are thousands of applicants to our association every year and we lose nothing without him." According to Chen, CWA has registered 378 new members so far this year, including three writers from Taiwan and five from Hong Kong and Macao.

The number of members who have resigned is not shown in official statistics.

Writers' VIP club

Throughout its 63-year history, CWA has bestowed membership on writers as a high literary honor. The Association is now a ministerial-level institute with the same power and prestige of the State Administration of Radio, Film and Television.

In the past, the Association has been presided over by renowned writers such as the late Mao Dun (the pen name of Shen Yanbing), one of the best novelists of the social realism school in modern China, and Ba Jin (the pen name of Li Yaotang), one of the most widely read Chinese writers of the 20th century.

Among all professional literary organizations in China, CWA has recruited the largest number of elite Chinese writers.

It also edits several periodicals, runs a training school, Lu Xun College, a museum and a literary foundation. In addition, CWA sponsors national writing competitions and hosts literary award presentations.

However, as the market economy reform moves forward, the drawbacks of government-subsidized writ-ing have been highlighted by several high-profile resignations.

"I joined the association with delight in the 1980s and left with unhappiness," Zheng reportedly said, although admitting that CWA membership helped his writing career in the early years.

"The association back then did take care of writers. When I started King of Fairy Tales, the Association persuaded the magazine I worked for to give me five-year paid leave. After 2000, however, the management of the association started to deteriorate. Other writers and I lost connection with the Association and we were pushed aside by people who have little knowledge of literature but a huge appetite for power."

Echoing Zheng's feelings of unfairness, Yan Yanwen, another member of the Association, called the organization an "ignored corner of economic reform."

"The writers' association was overloaded with redundant institutes and employees, including a dozen high-level officials," she wrote in her blog. "The employees are keen on becoming government officials because only officials can enjoy the privilege of having cars or hiring secretaries as well as being paid with higher remuneration and copyright royalties."

Other member writers reported the same feelings of being ignored. Lin Bai, a writer based in Beijing, said he has had no contact with the Association for many years. "I was never notified about their representatives' meetings."

"I don't bother to think about staying with it or not. If I were not a member now, I would not join. But since I am, I don't bother to quit," said Liu Liangcheng, a writer from the Xinjiang Uyghur Autonomous Region, describing his relationship with the Association.

On the defensive

The Association says much of the criticism is misplaced.

"Words cannot convey how busy we are. We manage over thousands of writers across the country. We organize all kinds of activities for them. To be frank, I don't even have a weekend," Sun Dequan, a media liaison officer at the Association, told Youth Weekend magazine.

According to Chen Qirong, spokesman of the Association, the core working staff numbers about 80 employees who enjoy the same remuneration packages earned by government officials, the most privileged level within China's hiring system. About 300 people are salaried under a standard pay scale for government-affiliated departments and 120 receive the standard pay of common enterprise employees.

Among 9,301 members, about 200 are contract writers paid by the government and that number is steadily decreasing as some of them retire or die off, with no quota system to replace them.

"Our main income is from the Ministry of Finance, up to 50 million yuan per year, and only a small part of that money comes from membership fees. Members pay only token dues of 100 yuan every five years. We use the money to organize travel and cultural exchanges for the writers and keep in touch with members," Chen said.

Yao Shujun, a veteran publisher for Encyclopedia of China Publishing House, confirmed that member writers are shown favoritism in getting their works published.

As examples, he cited a newly published novel, Bingtuan Zhanshi (Soldiers of a Legion) set during China's Cultural Revolution (1966- 76) and written by Lu Xingsheng, a member of the Association. The publisher had to choose between three novels on the same topic, one written by a university professor, another by a middle-aged female freelancer in Shandong Province, and Lu Xingsheng's novel.

"I picked Lu's book because writers with the association have established reputations and we want to maintain good relations with the writers' association," Yao explained.

Yao admitted that some literary genres, such as poetry, are regarded as too highbrow to become popular. He said the Association should spend money and spare no efforts to protect highly literary works from disappearing in the market economy.

Government "mouthpieces"

"Never bite the hand that feeds you," they say. But it is the taxpayer's hand that feeds the Association. In Zheng's logic, if taxpayers are paying the living expenses of writers, readers should be given a discount when they buy books written by CWA members. If the government is paying for their livelihood, the writers are obliged to become mouthpieces for the government. But the writers' association fails to do either, according to Zheng, who quoted an official of the Association saying, "Very few of our members are singing the praises of the Party."

Zheng said that by quitting the Association, he achieved a degree of political independence that now frees him to criticize an organization funded mainly by taxpayers. What he seeks now is fiscal transparency in CWA, insisting that the public has a right to know how its tax money is being spent.

Tie Ning, president of CWA, says she fought for better government-subsidized benefits for contract writers. She cited her meeting with Israeli writers belonging to a Hebrew literary association in Israel.

"The government pays the bills of their literature magazine, housing, and even allowed a group of writers to run a café to earn extra money. If our country cannot afford a handful of writers, I think it is a tragedy," she said, during an interview with China Youth magazine.

"A big country like China should guarantee a decent life for top-notch writers. For a writer, housing might not be the most important thing - writers can buy a house if they have money. But how can they pay for their medical care and children's tuition if they are freelancers without a danwei?" A danwei, or working unit, is obliged to provide social welfare benefits for government employees in the Chinese system.

Chen Qirong said that every year the Association allocates about 2 million yuan for writers to create works that emphasize the "dominant themes" of the society. "All the members are entitled to apply for our projects and we will take the money back if they miss their deadlines."

"Professional writers who take money from the government should be above reproach. They spend as much time and energy on work as factory workers. Then why shouldn't they be paid?" Chen asked.

Meanwhile, the debate over reform in the Association rages on.

Lü Lei, vice-chairman of the writers' association branch in Guangdong Province, put it this way: "In China there are two institutions that anyone can kick in the ass: one is the Chinese Football Association and the other is the Chinese Writers' Associa-tion."