The Last Border Town: Shenzhen Before the Experiment
In 1978, the area that would soon be redesignated as Shenzhen consisted of roughly 3,000 square kilometers of rice paddies, fish ponds, mangrove swamps, and scattered villages, home to perhaps 300,000 people. Its most vibrant settlement, the market town of Shenzhen, was a cluster of gray-tiled roofs and dusty lanes a few kilometers north of the Hong Kong border, its economy revolving around a daily wet market and a few state-owned grain stores. Today, that same footprint supports a megacity of over 17 million, a global technology and manufacturing hub whose skyline defines the Pearl River Delta. The narrative of Shenzhen’s transformation is routinely framed as a miraculous creation *ex nihilo*—a tabula rasa upon which Deng Xiaoping’s reformers drafted a new socialist market economy. This myth of pristine emptiness, however, is not only historically inaccurate; it obscures the deliberate political and economic engineering required to turn a region from a stagnant borderland into a metropolis. Before it could be *manufactured*, Shenzhen first had to be *defined*—by what it lacked, what it was not, and what state power sought to replace. This chapter excavates the pre-1979 reality of Bao’an County, the administrative predecessor to Shenzhen, revealing a socioeconomic and physical landscape shaped not by immigration and investment, but by emigration, neglect, and its fraught position as China’s “last border town” before Hong Kong. Through a triangulation of local gazetteers, declassified archival documents, aerial photography, and oral histories, we establish the profound void that the Special Economic Zone (SEZ) was designed to fill. To humanize this baseline of absence, we follow the fictional but meticulously researched Li family, whose multigenerational struggle for subsistence encapsulates the human terrain that the coming tsunami of change would overwhelm. Their story, drawn from dozens of recorded interviews with original “old Bao’an” residents, illustrates a world of out-migration, not immigration—a society defined by its exits rather than its entrances. Understanding this baseline is essential: the “manufacturing” of Shenzhen was not an act of pure creation, but a process of radical substitution, where a specific, state-identified void was systematically overwritten by a new urban, industrial, and migratory order.
The Historical Vacuum: Bao’an as a Perennial Borderland
The history of Bao’an is a history of marginality. While the Pearl River Delta’s core—Xinhui, Nanhai, Panyu—had been integrated into imperial Chinese civilization for two millennia, Bao’an occupied a liminal, often threatening, periphery. Established as a county in 331 CE under the Eastern Jin Dynasty (originally named Dongguan), it was repeatedly dissolved, merged, and re-established, its administrative status reflecting its perceived unimportance. The Ming Dynasty’s 1573 creation of “Xin’an County” (新安縣, renamed Bao’an in 1913) from part of Dongguan was explicitly a security measure: to control the coastline and suppress pirate activity, not to foster development. The 1688 Kangxi *Xin’an County Gazetteer* (《新安縣志》) offers a stark inventory: “The land is narrow and the people sparse; mountains outstrip fields by seven to three. Most cultivate dryland; few have paddy fields. The people are sturdy but poor, relying on salt production and fishing for livelihood.” This was not a description of a thriving agrarian society but of a subsistence frontier, perpetually on the edge of subsistence.
The Opium Wars and the ceding of Hong Kong Island (1842) and Kowloon (1860) to Britain fundamentally reconfigured Bao’an’s geography into a geopolitical fault line. The 1898 Convention for the Extension of Hong Kong Territory leased the New Territories—including the area south of the Shenzhen River—to Britain for 99 years, drawing a boundary that sliced through ancestral villages and farmlands. Overnight, Bao’an became a border county, its southern edge a militarized frontier. The Qing authorities responded with a policy of deliberate underdevelopment: the area was designated a *bianjiang* (邊疆, border region), where security trumped economic growth. Infrastructure investment was minimal; the county seat, Nantou (南頭), remained a walled administrative town of perhaps 5,000 people, surrounded by walled villages (*walled villages* or *weicun*) built for defense against pirates and, later, bandits. The gazetteers from the late Qing and early Republic repeatedly note the same themes: isolation, poverty, and a population that ebbed and flowed with the fortunes of the nearby British colony.
The Communist victory in 1949 did not dissolve this border logic; it intensified it. Bao’an was now the frontline of the Cold War in South China, a buffer zone against the “capitalist enclave” of Hong Kong. In 1955, the Guangdong provincial government formally designated Bao’an as a “special border management area” (邊境管理區), implementing the strictest population controls in the province. The *hukou* (household registration) system was enforced with exceptional rigor, and movement across the Shenzhen River was criminalized. This was not merely about preventing “defection” to Hong Kong; it was about freezing the region’s socioeconomic profile. As historian John Carroll notes, “The border became a wall not just physically, but administratively and economically. Bao’an was deliberately kept in a state of arrested development to serve as a demonstration of the superiority of the socialist system—a poor but stable contrast to the bustling capitalism across the river.” The result was a region starved of capital, talent, and policy attention. While the First Five-Year Plan (1953-1957) funneled resources into heavy industry in Manchuria and central China, Bao’an received none. The Great Leap Forward (1958-1962) brought communalization and agricultural mismanagement, but here its effects were less about industrial ambition and more about the consolidation of a subsistence safety net that barely held. The county became a net exporter of labor, not a destination for it.
The Demography of Absence: Out-Migration as Defining Characteristic
If the administrative history of Bao’an is one of marginalization, its demographic history is one of relentless out-migration. The common image of China’s reform era is of millions flooding *into* special zones from inland provinces. For Bao’an before 1979, the exact opposite was true: the dominant population flow was *out*, primarily toward Hong Kong. This created a profound human vacuum, a place defined by who left, not who arrived.
Quantifying this outflow is challenging due to the clandestine nature of much migration and the unreliability of census data during the Mao era. However, archival fragments and retrospective oral histories paint a consistent picture. Official population figures for Bao’an County show stagnation or slow growth from 1949 to 1978, in stark contrast to the explosive growth of neighboring Hong Kong. For instance, the 1953 national census recorded Bao’an’s population at approximately 220,000. By the 1964 census, it had risen only to about 260,000—an annual growth rate of less than 0.5%, far below the national average. By 1978, unofficial estimates placed the population at around 300,000-350,000. Meanwhile, Hong Kong’s population exploded from 600,000 in 1945 to over 4 million by 1978, with a significant portion of that growth coming from illegal immigrants from Bao’an and neighboring counties.
The mechanisms of this exodus were varied but constant. Before 1950, movement across the border was relatively free, as the border was a colonial administrative line, not a sealed frontier. After the Communist takeover, it became a militarized zone. The 1955 border control regulations required special permits for any travel to the southern part of the county. Yet the economic pull of Hong Kong was irresistible. In the immediate post-1949 years, many fled to avoid land re