Compared with the murder charges against his mother and the corruption allegations that brought down his father, Bo Guagua’s adamant denial this week that: “I have never driven a Ferrari” may seem, at first glance, insignificant.
Yet it strikes to the core of one of the most politically explosive elements of the unfolding scandal in China: how elite communist dynasties use their influence to amass wealth and lead privileged lifestyles.
Amid growing evidence of the fortune amassed by his family, the 24-year-old scion of the Bo family attempted to distance himself from the colourful playboy image that has made him a focus of such concerns. He insisted his expensive international education at Harrow, Oxford and Harvard was paid for with scholarships and family savings, and they he had never lent his name “nor participated in any for-profit business or venture, in China or abroad”.
In legal terms, the denial appeared unnecessary. Unlike his parents – toppled Chinese politician Bo Xilai and murder suspect Gu Kailai – who are being investigated in the death and possible cover-up – of British businessman Neil Heywood, Bo Guagua has not been accused of any crime. But politically, he has come under almost as much scrutiny because of what he represents.
China’s elite world of blood connections and dynastic influence has much in common with the European aristocracy or the old monied families of the US. But it is considerably more opaque – until a scandal such as this rips down some of the walls of secrecy and mutual protection.
Over the past three decade, the party of revolution has steadily transformed into the party of privilege. While once it challenged tradition, authority and championed a redistribution of wealth, it now promotes Confucian values of “harmony” and “stability” even as it presides over a nation of worsening inequality.
Guagua’s grandfather was Bo Yibo, a former vice-premier and one of the so-called “eight immortals” who helped guide China after the turbulence of the Mao years.
Guagua’s father, Bo Xilai, epitomised the party’s transition and its contradictions: like many in the communist elite, his path to power started out along a quiet, tree-lined road in central Beijing. Xihuangchenggen North Street is home to the nation’s most prestigious primary and secondary schools. The latter – Beijing No 4 Middle School – is the alma mater of Bo Xilai.
The majority of its graduates gain entry to either Peking or Tsinghua University – the Oxford and Cambridge of China – and then go on to carve out high-flying careers in politics, business or the military. Years later, some even return as delegates to the National People’s Congress, which has its conference centre on the same street as the school.
Bo’s family allegedly abused his influence and connections to amass a fortune. Jiang Weiping, an investigative journalist from Dalian – where Bo was mayor in the 1990s – said the family and his wife’s law firm were earning about 70 to 80 million yuan (£6.8m to £7.8m) a year during that time.
“Bo’s only legal income was his salary, which was relatively insignificant. The family’s real revenue came through Bo’s ability to get projects and investments. His brother, wife and sister-in-law were all involved. It was large-scale official corruption,” said Jiang, who fled to Canada after being imprisoned in China for revealing “state secrets”.
