Chinese scholars are bitterly divided over how to proceed. Opponents of rural land reform say the global financial crisis has proved their point: millions of migrant workers in the cities lost their jobs as export industries slumped, but because they had land to go back to there was no major unrest. In Chongqing, officials at the dipiao trading centre are nervous that any adverse publicity even about their cautious experiment might fuel a backlash. This would complicate their tentative plans for something more adventurous: trial runs of mortgaging rural homesteads. The possible impact of foreclosures on rural stability is the conservatives’ worst nightmare.

　　Mouths to feed

　　The other constraint is the Chinese government’s deep-rooted fear that domestically produced grain may be insufficient to feed the country. It has decreed that a minimum of 120m hectares of arable land be preserved for this, a “red line” that officials say is already close to being crossed. Some Chinese experts argue that the line is arbitrary, that efficiencies of scale could considerably boost output and that China could rely more on the global grain market to supplement its needs. But memories of a famine from 1959 to 1961 that killed millions of people, and a fear that relying on imports could threaten China’s security, make officials adamant that the line must not be breached. This means that even if land trading were to be liberalised, many peasants (or migrants with rural hukou) still could not cash in fully.

　　Pu Yongjian of Chongqing University laments that the central government has failed to give the municipality enough leeway to experiment. He says that in 2007, when Chongqing was instructed to carry out trial reforms, it expected to enjoy freedoms similar to those bestowed on the city of Shenzhen, next to Hong Kong, in the 1980s and 90s. Shenzhen was even able to set up a stockmarket, though party conservatives scorned it. “We haven’t got that kind of power, so what’s the point of calling it an experimental zone?” asks Mr Pu.

　　The groundwork, at least, for more radical change is at last being laid. A nationwide push has begun to issue rural households with certificates stating what land they farm and what residential property they occupy. These, potentially, could be used as proof of ownership should the government eventually decide to encourage a rural property market. The government said in December that it wanted the task to be completed within three years. It will be tough work, hampered by decades of haziness over where boundaries lie.

　　Chongqing municipality, having got an early start, hopes to finish handing out its certificates next year. But in rural Chongqing, change still seems slow. The village of Shuangxi in the hills north-east of Chongqing city has been designated by local officials as a reform trailblazer. Its peasants were encouraged to give up their land-use rights to a dairy company, which used the fields to produce fodder. All but a dozen households agreed, in return for a share of the rent paid by the company.

　　Li Longhui, Shuangxi’s party chief, wants to go further. By persuading the farmers to move from their freestanding homes into new three-storey apartment blocks, the village has recovered 33 hectares of land (10% of its total area). Ms Li would like to trade this on the dipiao market, but complains that the price is still too low. So far the local government has borne the cost of Shuangxi’s housing upgrade, its new school and the recreation area where elderly villagers dance to revolutionary songs. Recouping the money, says Ms Li, would mean selling village land for industrial use. That is still heretical.