Temporary Resident … Forever
For years, many non-Beijingers have lived as "temporary residents" in houses they own under a system that rejects them as aliens in the city.
"For people like me, the more accomplished we are, the more rejected we feel in this city. How ironic!" laments Li, a middle class professional in his early thirties.
The Shanxi-born Li has lived in Beijing for seven years. Living alone in a basement at first, he now has a family and his own apartment. He can be proud of what he has achieved in the capital in under a decade.
"Everything looks beautiful on the surface," he says, but his bliss is often diluted by the thought of being a "temporary resident".
"As long as you don't have a Beijing hukou (household-registry), you will always live in your own house as a temporary resident despite the fact that you own everything here – the house, the car, your family, your career… " Li says.
As a migrant to the city, Li first obtained a temporary residence certificate which was necessary for applying for ownership of the house. He also had to approach the housing committee in his locality to validate his identity as a temporary resident. When Li saw the committee's paperwork, he didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
The paper read: 1. I'm a migrant. 2. I'm a house owner. 3. I rented my house. 4. I live temporarily in my own house. 5. I live temporarily in a rented house. 6. I rented my house, but I'm still living temporarily in it. 7. I rented my house to myself…
Under the temporary residence certificate system, the paper must be renewed yearly. Technically, Li's eligibility as a "temporary resident" on his own property lasts only one year, yet, the paper allows him to apply for a homeowner certificate.
"In the end, I claimed ownership over the property for 70 years, and have the rights to an unconditional extension for another 70 years. But I remain a temporary resident, and only so for one year at a time," Li says.
Over the years, Li has applied for numerous temporary residence certificates to replace expired ones. The certificate is a passport to living in the city; one needs it when applying for driving license, for house rentals, and transfer and other official matters.
It is easy to obtain a temporary residence certificate by submitting one's identity card, three photos, and five yuan to the local police station. But to demand a house owner with a settled family to apply for one seems absurd.
This journalist is in the same predicament as Li. I approached the Beijing Municipal Public Security Bureau one day to consult them on my own dilemma.
"Why do I need to apply for a temporary residence certificate now that I have my own house? Does that mean I've rented my house to myself?"
"This is logical," said one officer. "You don't have a Beijing hukou, you are a temporary resident. Non-Beijing hukou holders belong to the migrant population. This does not contradict your homeowners' status—the house belongs to you, but your residence is considered as being temporary."
"How do you define migrating population from permanent residents?" I asked.
According to one officer, it is based on the place where one's hukou is registered. In other words, even if someone has spent most of their life in Beijing, a non-Beijing hukou citizen is still considered among the migrant population. Meanwhile, even if settling down in another place, a Beijing hukou holder is still a permanent resident of Beijing. The same rule applies nationwide.
My enquiries puzzled the officer, who claimed I was the first homeowner to have come to him demanding an explanation. He says, "Anyone without a Beijing hukou has to apply for the certificate. This has nothing to do with whether you have a house or not. Many outsiders have bought houses in Beijing and everybody knows the rules."
The temporary residence certificate is a byproduct of the hukou system, says Dang Guoying, head of Rural Development Institute under Chinese Academy of Social Sciences.
In 1958, the government passed Regulations on Household Registration to control population mobility. Except for migration resulting from employment, education or work transfer, citizens had no right to choose where to live.
Since then, due to economic development and the disparity in social welfare benefits between rural and urban areas, more people have begun moving to the cities. The temporary residence certificate system was introduced in hopes of keeping the urban population under control. The same is true of the "shelter system" designed for homeless migrants in urban areas.
In March 2003, university graduate Sun Zhigang was mistakenly taken into a shelter because he failed to carry his temporary residence certificate with him and was beaten to death in custody. The tragedy ended China's shelter system and led to new guidelines on assistance to the homeless.
While voicing his doubts over the effectiveness of current policies in controlling migration, Dang also disapproves of the rush to urban areas, saying, "(the immigrants have) a low quality of living, and more slums are emerging."
It is wishful thinking that the hukou system can be abolished overnight, says Dang, adding the key is to reform the system by allowing those who own a house or have a stable job to transfer their household registry account to where they actually live.
There is a lack of in-depth study over the cost-efficiency and welfare losses resulted from the hukou system. Li, for instance, has postponed his overseas travel plan for two years because of the tediousness to apply for passport back in where his hukou belongs.
"When I go back there on a holiday, the police station is on holiday too. When they get to work, I also have to go back and work. I finally took care of it when I quit my job and made a purposeful trip home," Li recalls.
Despite all this, Li is optimistic over the future. He believes the system will be amended sooner or later, as it is inhuman and an obstacle to social development. The only question is when the changes will come.
As for now, he has no choice but to live "temporarily" in his own house.
Translated by Zuo Maohong
From Cover, issue no. 351, January 21st, 2008
Original article: [Chinese]
