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Auntie Bai brings rule of law to Chinese teatime TV

Cross Jerry Springer with Judge Judy, throw in a good dose of social conflict and a hefty pinch of justice with Chinese characteristics and what do you get? Auntie Bai, a hard-nosed Shanghainese granny who uses the oldest tricks of Communist party dispute resolution to keep the peace - on Chinese dinnertime television.

These days, Beijing is always banging on about the rule of law, and the need for more of it. We westerners predictably sneer that what China means by rule of law is a criminal court system with a 99.9 per cent conviction rate, and a tradition of putting politics above justice.

But there is more to the rule of law here than what judges do in courtrooms (thank heavens). China already has vast systems of alternative dispute resolution, and the Supreme People's Court recently urged lower courts to develop "innovative alternatives to litigation".

They were probably not thinking about Bai Wanqing when they wrote that. But it's hard to imagine a more innovative form of dispute resolution than what this sharp-tongued battle axe dishes out every Sunday. She says that since she went on air in 2008, one-third of the disputes she has heard have involved property and two-thirds have involved family - often battles between mother-in-law and daughter-in-law, a staple of life in a society where those two natural enemies often live in the same house.

Auntie Bai says her service costs less than a lawyer and is more effective, since she takes into account not just law but also psychology when coming up with solutions. In fact, she has become so famous dispensing her televised version of the judgment of Solomon that her producers want to turn her into China's Oprah (though I can't quite recall Ms Winfrey parsing legal codes on air).

It is also hard imagining Auntie Bai morphing into a warm, cuddly Chinese version of the world's best-loved talk show host. Unlike touchy-feely Oprah, she barely disguises her disdain for dim-witted guests (not to mention Financial Times journalists). But then again, Oprah wasn't shipped off to work in the fields during the Cultural Revolution. Auntie Bai was - and it seems to have taught her plenty about human nature.

Auntie Bai says she is exactly as old as the Republic of China, which means she grew up steeped in what passes for the rule of law under the Communist party, of which she is a member. At grassroots level, rule of law under the People's Republic has always involved citizens like her: experienced elders, often at the level of street or neighbourhood committees, who step in to resolve family quarrels before they threaten social stability, the preservation of which is the nation's top priority.

The day I met Auntie Bai, she looked that part to the tee. Clad in a pink plaid overcoat and brown leopard-print scarf, with dyed hair streaked with grey and prominent cheekbones flecked with liver spots, she could be any one of the "aunties" who work as mediators for local governments all over China.

Except that they are not all so skilful. Auntie Bai proclaims that among her litigants - disputing everything from "sunbathing rights" (upstairs neighbours blocking the light from a downstairs flat by airing their quilts in the wrong spot) to inheritance battles over Shanghai's scarce and valuable residential property - 90 per cent change their behaviour as a result of her show. "It's hard to change people with law alone. I change people with law and ethics," she says.

So what is her secret? She appeals to litigants' self-interest, she says, citing the case of a mother-in-law who prevented her son's wife from obtaining hukou, a local residence permit. Auntie Bai persuaded the old lady that if her daughter-in-law did not gain Shanghai residence, she would be denied a lucrative Shanghai pension at retirement - which would eventually cost the old lady's little grandson a lot of money taking care of his pensionless mother. Shanghai grannies are known for their foresight: she opted to compromise now to save her grandson money decades down the road. And the daughter-in-law secured her residence permit.

Beijing wants more rule of law? Tune into Shanghai television on Sunday nights, and watch how the grannies do it.

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