Spoiling For a Fight; Successful Chinese yuppies are bumping up against their country's authoritarian system--and for the first time they're learning to stand up for their rights.

Byline: Sarah Schafer

Former physician Chen Xiaolan has made a name for herself exposing some of the many medical quacks in China, along with their bogus cures. Last year she persuaded government officials to close down a company in southern China that was selling a bogus remedy for fevers. Chen learned about the treatment, a bunch of herbs packed into a patch for the forehead, when doctors at a Shanghai hospital convinced her aunt to purchase one.

Chen wasn't always a professional patient advocate. But when doctors foist fake remedies on vulnerable patients to pad medical bills, she takes it personally. Chen once practiced traditional Chinese medicine in her hometown of Shanghai. She made plenty of money--but in the late 1990s, Chen, now 53, discovered that her employer, a state hospital, was injecting patients with a worthless serum. After undergoing the treatment herself, she exposed the fraud. Forced out of her job, she's now a full-time whistleblower, aided financially by her family and supportive government agencies. "Before, I wasn't interested in politics or any of that stuff because [my husband and I] were living comfortably," she says. "I would have liked to have continued that peaceful and happy life, but things were a mess in the hospital, and I couldn't ignore that."

For more than two decades, the Chinese--especially the educated middle class--have lived with a great compromise. They've applauded the sweeping capitalist-style economic reforms implemented by the Communist Party, but turned a blind eye to ongoing political and social oppression. Many in China's richest cities seem content with the party's rule. Some have studied abroad and returned to earn twice as much as their peers. Others have managed to escape from the countryside to attend college. Many are simply businesspeople and professionals who, for the first time in their lives, can afford to buy cars, take vacations and buy homes. Ask many what it would take to get them to man the barricades, and they're hard pressed to come up with an answer.

But this political apathy is not a permanent condition. Increasing numbers of more privileged Chinese are bumping up against their country's authoritarian political system, especially as the government of President Hu Jintao attempts to tighten controls on the press, religion, civil society and the Internet. Many are learning, suddenly, that there's another side to the story of their nation's transformation. And they're learning something else, about themselves: some political goals are worth fighting for. Rebecca MacKinnon, cofounder of the international bloggers' network Global Voices Online, says she's seen more of these middle-class activists speaking out on her forum and others. Her network often helps bring the people behind these stories together and helps them publicize their causes. "This kind of experience really brings out the reserved strength in people," says MacKinnon.

In cities across China, for example, well-to-do Chinese have staged protests against corrupt property development. More than 70 percent of Beijingers now own homes, up from nearly zero in the early 1990s. Among the new crop of high-profile homeowner advocates is former college professor Shu Kexin, who turned his success fighting real-estate developers into a bid for election to the National People's Congress. (He lost.) Another advocate, Zou Tao, a golf-equipment dealer in Shenzhen, launched a campaign in April against rising housing costs, urging the public to "stop buying houses" and paying exorbitant prices set by developers in cahoots with local officials. Zou has received more than 100,000 letters of support from around the country. Thirty-three-year-old Yu Linggang is a successful government-relations manager for Lenovo Computer Corp. in Beijing. But he's been lobbying officials for a parcel of land on which to construct affordable housing for those less fortunate than he is. He's hoping that during next year's National People's Congress he will see some results. "My life is very good now ... I travel, I go to the gym. But this isn't enough," Yu says. "I think I should do something for society."

Some Chinese, such as Zeng Jingyan, learn at a young age that their dreams of comfort and stability might not materialize. Short and wispy with a ...