The Economist has a compare-and-contrast piece on how the ultra-rich are viewed in India and in China:
India’s movers and shakers all seem to know each other. The Indian elite have created their own islands, frowns a cabinet minister: “It’s a bit unhealthy.” They send their kids to private schools. They have their own water and electricity. So they barely notice how bad the government is at delivering power, water and schooling to the other 1.2 billion Indians.
Yet to many Indians the nation’s tycoons are heroes. A few made their fortunes corruptly, but the software moguls of Bangalore created a huge export industry out of nothing, and many others helped to spur India’s galloping growth. Ratan Tata, the soon-to-retire boss of a conglomerate that produces everything from tea to cars, lives modestly and treats his employees well. The brothers Anil and Mukesh Ambani are more controversial, but they have turned the family business into two global giants, with interests from chemicals to entertainment.
Some Indian gazillionaires are flashy. Mukesh Ambani’s house has 27 stories, three helipads and three floors of hanging gardens. Vijay Mallya, a beer-and-airlines magnate, constantly amuses the newspaper-reading public with his speedboats and sports teams. But for most of the country’s elite the most conspicuous item of consumption is sending their children to university in America.
India’s super-rich are very different from their Chinese counterparts, however:
The relationship between rich and poor in China is different. China’s stellar growth has lifted some 500m people out of poverty. Much of the credit belongs to Chinese entrepreneurs. Since Mao’s boot was lifted from their necks, they have built marvels, from the skyscrapers of Shanghai to the factories of Guangdong. Yet mainland Chinese business leaders operate in the shadow of a secretive and unaccountable ruling party. To get on, many join it. Some do so reluctantly, to avoid being crushed. Others do so gladly, hoping to use the power of the state to enrich themselves.
Individual party members are not entirely above the law. If a local bigwig behaves so appallingly that the resulting protests are heard in Beijing, the party may cut him down to size. In October last year the son of Li Gang, a senior police officer in Baoding, killed a pedestrian while allegedly drink-driving. He sped off, shouting, “report me if you dare; my dad is Li Gang!”
News of the incident went viral in the Chinese blogosphere. Pop songs with the refrain “My dad is Li Gang!” quickly circulated. Li Gang was forced to make a televised apology. His son was arrested. China’s leaders would like the 95% of the population who are not members to think that the party cares. But the most revealing fact is that Mr Li junior evidently thought he could get away it.
