The Sexual Revolution Hits China

By Sandra Burton/Beijing

For the Chinese, the promise of Deng Xiaoping's far-reaching reforms has often meant unexpected social strains. They range from huge student demonstrations for more political freedom to cases of spectacular corruption and a tolerance for economic inequality. But few have been as deeply unsettling as a new aura of sexual permissiveness that has sprung up with the reforms. For years officials in Beijing tried to ward off the threat by warning unwary citizens about the evils of sex. Their efforts were ignored. These days the government permits public lectures and seminars for government workers on such previously forbidden subjects as masturbation, premarital pregnancy and sex crimes, and the talks are attracting overflow crowds across the country. "We hear much about China's four modernizations," says Shanghai Sociology Professor Liu Dalin. "We should add a fifth one: the modernization of the senses."

A decade after the Communist Party sanctioned the return of the profit motive, sex is once again for sale on the busy streets and crowded back alleys of China. Venereal disease -- an affliction that was officially eradicated under Chairman Mao -- has quadrupled in cities like Shanghai. Meanwhile, millions of Chinese, newly exposed to Western ideas, have fallen prey to notions of romantic love and sexual fulfillment. An estimated 60% of Chinese are said to be dissatisfied with their spouses. Mandatory counseling has not prevented more than half a million divorces a year. Police crackdowns have failed to stem underground sales of pornographic books and videos. "The Chinese are like people who have been in the dark a long time," says Liu, who is China's best-known sexologist. "Suddenly, when the windows are opened, they feel dizzy."

The antidote? Liu prescribes information, information and more information. He lectures frequently on sex, has written 30 best-selling books on love, sex and marriage, and helped start a new magazine called Sex Education. Largely as a result of lobbying by Liu and his colleagues, the state has agreed to fund experimental sex-education courses in 6,000 middle schools across the country. Contrary to the views of conservative elements within the party leadership, educators see China's sexual reawakening not so much a threat to public morality as a sign of progress. "If people are not hedonistic to a degree, as well as capitalistic, the society cannot be modernized," says Dr. Wu Minlun, a Hong Kong psychiatrist and advocate of sex education.

Dr. Wu and Liu, who sometimes lecture together, share a philosophy that owes more to common sense and The Joy of Sex than to Marx. Liu, for example, does not condone premarital sex, but he considers it a fact of life for up to 30% of Chinese youth. The trend, he often explains to parents, is a consequence of China's "one couple, one child" policy of population control. The late marriages and subsequent late births encouraged by the policy, he believes, "do not conform to the physiological development of human beings." People reach their sexual prime toward the end of their teens, and are likely to do what comes naturally long before it is officially sanctioned.

What to do about the situation is the subject of a simmering debate. Take unwanted pregnancies. While publicly funded abortion has long been accepted as a method of birth control among Chinese married couples, the state refuses to make contraceptives available to single people. Many unmarried women are thus driven to seek dangerous back-alley abortions rather than risk the scandal that would arise from exposure of their illicit affairs if they chose legal channels. "If we teach them how to prevent pregnancies, maybe premarital sex will become even more common," frets Liu. Still, Dr. Wu labels Beijing's stand hypocritical, pointing out that government hospitals in the Special Economic Zone of Shenzhen, near Hong Kong, have become profitable abortion mills by guaranteeing confidentiality to affluent women who cross the border into China for the operations.

While the rising incidence of divorce and the emergence of the di san zhe, or romantic triangle, are viewed by most mainlanders as serious threats to the sanctity of the Chinese family, some Chinese social scientists regard them as largely positive. Citing statistics that show a doubling of the divorce rate in Beijing during a five-year period, Dr. Wu observes that they are a "reflection of women being less tied down by traditional mores and more open about their relationships." Unfortunately, the government's attitude has not evolved at a similar pace. The state no longer weighs down adulterers with stones and drowns them, but women viewed as promiscuous are still sometimes ( hustled off to re-education camps for crimes such as prostitution and adultery.

Although authorities refuse to admit officially that homosexuality exists in China, they tend to regard homosexuals as criminals. Police have closed down at least one bar that had become a hangout for gays in Shenzhen. "Usually, acts of homosexuality are treated as acts of hooliganism," reports Liu. His advice for handling such sexual taboos: face them realistically, rather than with superstition and criminal penalties. "We want to expose people to the germ to increase their resistance to the disease," he says.

Some officials, however, remain determined to stop the further spread of China's sexual revolution. The cover of the inaugural issue of Sex Education was officially stamped as a magazine limited to bureaucrats rather than for sale to the public, which will make it harder for the fledgling journal to turn a profit. The fact that investors seem willing to outwait the government -- and that the first issue sold out -- has led optimists to conclude that Chinese pragmatism will ultimately govern the debate over how much sexual liberation China can tolerate. "The influence of the feudal society in China remains deeply rooted," concedes a Sex Education editorial. But, it asks, "Do you think ideas welcomed by the people can be strangled to death?"