When 9,000 of Shin Guoqing's fellow taxi drivers went on strike early last month, he felt he had to join them.
Soaring inflation had undermined what his $300-a-month income could buy for his family, and Shin said he was frustrated that the government had done nothing to help. "After running around the whole day, you have only a few renminbi for it," he said, referring to China's currency. "You don't feel good about your life."
For two days, the drivers held this Sichuan province metropolis of 31 million people under siege, blocking roads and smashing cars. The Communist Party quickly stopped the violence by promising to address the drivers' demands for easier access to fuel and better working conditions.
From the far western industrial county of Yongdeng to the southern resort city of Sanya and the commercial center of Guangzhou, members of China's upwardly mobile working class — taxi drivers, teachers, factory workers and even auxiliary police officers — have mounted protests since the Chongqing strike, refusing to work until their demands were met.
China's government has long feared the rise of labor movements, banning unauthorized unions and arresting those who speak out for workers' rights. The strikes, driven in part by China's economic downturn, have caught officials off guard.
Protests come to the cities
Rural protests, often led by impoverished farmers angry over land seizures that leave them unable to feed their families, have occurred sporadically over the past decade. But richer, more educated Chinese are behind the recent strikes, which have disrupted life in China's cities. The success achieved by the drivers in Chongqing has inspired work stoppages elsewhere.
Urban workers say they are worried about being unable to pay for their children's college education, missing payments on car loans, and not having enough money left each month to dine out with friends or go on vacation.
In the past 30 years of economic liberalization, younger Chinese have come to see these things not as a luxury of modern life but as a right.
In the central province of Hunan on Dec. 2, more than 100 auxiliary police officers seized control of a Communist Party office in Leiyang county and demanded that the government reinstate a bonus it had taken away after the Olympics. According to the Hong Kong-based Information Center for Human Rights and Democracy, the group smashed chairs and did not allow anyone to enter or leave the building for three hours. Tan Caiyu, a municipal official, said in an interview that the government is considering raising the auxiliary officers' salaries as a result.
That same week, more than 1,000 teachers in neighboring Longhui county went on strike over unpaid allowances. The teachers accused the local government of misappropriating 400 million yuan, or about $60 million, over the past 10 years.
In other places, such as the inland province of Shaanxi and in northeastern Liaoning province, teachers protested because they said they deserved to be paid as much as other government employees with the same experience.
Taxi drivers feel the pinch
In Gansu province's Yongdeng county, taxi drivers said their income had fallen because of the rising number of illegal taxis that the government had allowed to proliferate. Chen Yongshun, 44, who like many other taxi drivers across the country fell into his job when his state-owned factory closed, said that he has a child who will go to college next year and that he needs to make sure he will be able to afford the tuition.
"The government is for the people. If they can't do a good job, then they should be apologetic to ordinary citizens," said Chen, who participated in a Nov. 10 strike with about 160 others.
Huang Shuzhong, a driver in Sanya, said he and his colleagues had been upset for months because the taxi companies refused to lower their management fees despite falling demand for transportation.
Huang said that taxi drivers had brought their concerns to government officials and the companies several times earlier in the year but that nothing had come of it. Some of the braver taxi drivers began talking about a strike in the fall, but everyone had been afraid to act, he said. "After hearing about Chongqing, everything changed. We felt we could do it, too," Huang said.
In Chongqing, leaflets urging the taxi drivers to go on strike appeared overnight in the first two days of November at places where they congregate. They were taped on the walls at the place where they change the white fabric seat covers each night and scattered on the ground at gas stations.
"Rise up!" one leaflet urged. "Let us all unite and strike together!"
In concise and eloquent prose, it listed four complaints — it was difficult to get gasoline, the management fee they pay to taxi companies was too high, there were too many illegal "black" taxis taking away their work, and the meter was charging too little for waiting time. The leaflet also specified a date: Nov. 3.
Drivers shared plans for the strike by text message and word of mouth. Taxi driver Liu Mingsheng said the purpose of the strike "spoke to my heart."
"With my salary, I can have an ordinary life. I can buy books, toys and have medical treatment when I need it. But I can no longer have money to pay the bills and to go to dinner and drinks with friends," said Liu, 38, who used to work as a chauffeur for a state-owned company.
Drivers said the strike appeared highly organized — although none would admit to knowing who set it up. Blockades were erected at parking lots and places were taxis line up. The few drivers who dared to work that day were roughly pulled out of their cars, and their vehicles were damaged.
Chongqing's Communist Party secretary, Bo Xilai, China's former commerce minister, responded by convening a meeting to discuss terms for ending the strike. No leaders emerged to take credit for organizing the protest, so the taxi companies selected their own representatives.
The meeting was broadcast live by the local TV station and even the official state news agency's online portal, Xinhuanet.com.
Sitting next to Bo was Tang Zhirong, who represented female taxi drivers in the city. Tang, 38, who has a college degree in accounting, said she has no regrets about the strike because the outcome was so positive.
"Before, we really didn't have any way to make complaints, and without the strike the government wouldn't have given in," Tang said in an interview.
Crackdown
Even as government officials publicly praised the taxi drivers for their candor, they were hunting for organizers and trying to detect connections between Chongqing and other protests across the country.
Shin said that he had saved a copy of the leaflet in his car, without thinking about it, and that the police had found it. A few days after the strike, he said, officers brought him in for questioning and demanded he tell them who had written the leaflet.
Shin, 40, said he told them he had found the leaflet on the ground and had no idea who was behind it.
Shin's story is typical. He worked at a state-owned heating company until it shut down 17 years ago and has been a taxi driver since. He says that he and his wife, who works at a gas station, make "enough, just enough," but that these days, they are working more hours — often more than 10 each day — for the same pay they got for working eight hours in the past.
Drivers in Chongqing said they were discussing a possible second strike — although no new leaflets have appeared. One of the things that the Communist Party promised after the protest was to work with the taxi companies to set up a pension and health-insurance system. The details, however, are still pending and some drivers are worried that it won't happen.
These days, said Shin, who was impressed by Bo's leadership in ending the strike, "I trust the government . . . but I don't yet trust the taxi companies."
Researchers Crissie Ding and Wu Meng in Shanghai contributed to this report.