IN the past decade of hectic growth, as land-tilling became a sort of residual existence, the aspiration of most villagers is to stop being a peasant.

Working as migrants in cities is one option.

But the true litmus test for judging whether you are an urbanite is possession of an urban hukou, or residence registration, which is largely inherited.

An urban hukou provides benefits in education, social insurance, pension, and medical care, that are denied to migrants.

Still, dagong (working as a migrant) is considered more attractive than eking out a subsistence by working in farm fields.

An urban hukou has been, and still is, the envy and dream of many migrants.

So it was surprising that when Chongqing Municipality offered to give 10 million peasants urban hukou within the next two decades, the move was greeted not with euphoria, but with suspicions.

When the campaign was kicked off on August 15, police were sent, needlessly as it turned out, to keep order among farmers who were expected to be clamorous for the wonders of urban life.

Truly urbanizing so many peasants would entail an enormous outlay in education, medical care, and social insurance.

Are the cities prepared? If not, what's the haste?

"The motivation behind Chongqing's enthusiasm in kicking off the hukou reform should be sought in the land," said Cai Fang, director of the Institute of Population and Labor Economics at the Chinese Academy of Social Sciences.

As factories along China's east coast are moving westward as a result of soaring costs, Chongqing is set to be on the receiving end of this huge manufacturing capacity.

Foxconn has already settled there.

But every year since 2007, there has been a gap of at least 50 square kilometers between the land Chongqing acquired and the amount of land need to fuel better growth.

At last, municipal officials turned their attention to peasants in surrounding areas - or, more correctly, the land that is considered theirs.

Officials explain that since a huge number of peasants are actually migrant workers living elsewhere, the rural land is actually being underworked, while the scarcity of land needed for urban construction worsens.

Currently in Chongqing, construction land per capita averages 250 square meters for a villager, but 80 square meters for urban resident. Which means a net increase of 170 square meters in land for construction with each urbanized villager.

The rural-urban land transfer is expected to "invigorate" key land elements, resulting in more efficient land use.

Hence, the ambitious hukou-for-land proposal.

Of course, while the peasants are getting their urban hukou, they are "encouraged" to give up their fields and their rural households. They would be living in multi-storied buildings in towns and cities.

They would be compensated. But some peasants are still not impressed.

Hence the new buzz word bei shanglou, forced upstairs, which includes the idea of being beaten or driven upstairs.

Not so bloody

Recently South Metropolitan Daily, while commenting on the Chongqing move, explained helpfully that in China "be encouraged" should read "be forced."

But "be encouraged" sounds more human in the face of the many bloody seizures of land we hear about every day.

Chongqing has been known for another creative urbanization initiative.

Given the stringent state control over the amount of farm land that can be put to none agricultural use, the municipality in 2008 began to "recultivate" existing rural residences - meaning tear down farm structures and plow them under so the land is again "agricultural" - as a strategy to meet statutory land use targets.

The hukou-land deal also had its precursor. In 2001, Zhengzhou in Henan Province initiated a similar deal, which was forced to halt in 2004 when its schools were crammed beyond limits. One of the real attractions of urban hukou for peasants is that their children could receive a better education, so they would not repeat the fate of their parents.

But how would the former peasants be employed?

You can appreciate this problem better if you understand how forced relocation has become a national obsession.

This Tuesday in Shaanxi Province, 17 villagers were publicly punished for "thwarting the construction of a key project," after disagreement over compensation for their appropriated lands.

On Monday, when researchers Yu Jianrong from the China Academy of Social Sciences delivered a lecture to more than 700 cadres in Wanzai, Jiangxi Province, Yu urged them "not to tear down the houses of the people."

At a subsequent reception, Party secretary of Wanzai County, Chen Xiaoping, said, "Tearing down is dictated by growth."

Yu retorted: "Modern society rests on the safeguard of basic rights of the individual. You (cadres) need to learn how to safeguard these basic rights."

Chen countered by saying: "If it was not for us cadres doing this (tearing down), how could you intellectuals be fed?"

Compelling case

Not long ago a grassroots official wrote to the press, stating plainly, "Without forced demolition there would be no new China."

That may not be so outrageous if we can put ourselves in the shoes of grassroots cadres.

Today the worth of a cadre is judged by their growth-enabling capacity, not by how deep their humanity runs.

As agriculture and farming make no economic sense today, turning the land into factories or properties would seem the rational choice.

There are additional benefits.

The peasants turned out of their land would be more willing to be hired by factories, thus sharpening the factories' competitive edge.

If they are fortunate enough to be hired by, say, Foxconn, their pay would make them good consumers, boosting the legendary internal demand.

Of course, when scholars make a case for this, they are more careful in their choice of words.

Rush to grab

In Monday's Wenhui Daily, Lu Ming made a compelling case for "fully urbanizing China" as a way to facilitate China's "economic structural adjustment," which is not progressing well.

His central argument is that only when internal demand is released, and consumption grows, can China's serious economic structural contradictions be resolved.

In their own style, a cadre and a scholar rationalize the rush to grab.

Over 60 years ago, Chinese peasants embraced a new China when land was promised to the people.

There had been collectivization, but Deng Xiaoping kicked off economic reform with a system of contractual land ownership in villages.

When "New Countryside Construction" was first floated several years ago, there was an argument for further incentivizing peasants by giving them something like (but not quite) real land ownership rights.

What we actually see today is frenzy to push peasants off their fields.

"Elimination and merging of villages on this scale is unheard of anywhere, anytime," said Chen Xiwen, director of the State office of the central leading group on rural work.

If this is allowed to go unchecked, he warned, "the consequences would be disastrous."

Would he be heeded, this time?