What were Our Chinese Colleagues Writing in 2025?

Three Chinese people with a double bass
sat on the street and told each other things.
Then the police came and asked, “What is that?”
— Drei Chinesen mit dem Kontrabass, traditional German children’s song

Everything that happened in the first half of 2026 seems to confirm Walter Benjamin’s image of history: “the rubble-heap before him grows sky-high.” For China, however, these months brought a long-lost sense of spring. Western politicians, shocked by such a rubble-heap, have selectively forgotten the fierce criticisms they once directed at China, and have turned to Beijing to consider another possibility. The Global South, for its part, had already placed a certain expectation in China’s rise from the beginning; the rubble-heap has only strengthened that belief.

In this way, geopolitics shifts at a pace that even the most cynical playwright could hardly imagine. As part of this shift, German public discourse on China has once again moved from “primal fear” to mild curiosity toward a “Schrödinger’s China”. Yet this curiosity is destined to be difficult to satisfy. Years of suspicion have already left their mark on academia: for example, the shrinking of Sinology faculties in Germany is almost visible to the naked eye.

But perhaps Sinology was never fully able to achieve its aim. The discipline itself has long been under pressure from the biases of the German research system, and within that system it is often treated as an Orchideenfach, an “orchid discipline.” At the same time, its research tradition, which can be traced back to the Ordinarius-dominated universities of the nineteenth century, often makes it difficult for the discipline to meet twenty-first-century China on equal terms. The Japanese scholar Koyasu Nobukuni once commented on the German tradition of “Oriental studies”—of which Sinology is a part—in the following terms: “Behind what may be called their reckless undertaking, there lies an impulse and desire to control their object in an epistemological sense. Not only a desire, but also a kind of arrogance: the arrogance of mastering the object at the level of epistemology” (Koyasu, 2012).

Area studies, born out of the Cold War context, may offer a more balanced and more contemporary perspective. Indeed, we seem to see more and more German research on China emerging from outside Sinology faculties. Yet the changing interests of area studies often reflect less how far we are able to understand China than one’s home country’s own internal concerns at a given moment. In Germany, this anxiety has been summarized in the emphasis placed on China-Kompetenz, or the idea of China kennen, China können. But when it comes to concrete questions, this produces a split in thought: a wary respect shaped by economic rationality, and a moral condescension shaped by the ethics of conscience. China appears as a prism, refracting the frustration of a self-confident knowledge system when confronted with complexity.

Once scholars who seek a decent form of understanding of China fall into this discussion, whether their concerns come from the left or the right, excessive enthusiasm for China-Kompetenz risks pulling them away from scholarly inquiry. As researchers, are we seeking a form of global solidarity around a particular issue, or are we genuinely curious about what our neighbours are saying and thinking?

When this question is brought into the field of legal history, the cognitive difference becomes milder but also makes people more powerless. As a Chinese legal historian working in Germany, I find that my Chinese identity is always more visible than my identity as a legal historian. At times, this causes some difficulty. At the same time, whenever I read the many sketches of “Chinese law” in the local public media, it is easy to see how people attribute many phenomena observed in China today to an institutional system that was once influential in China two thousand years ago. As a legal historian, I instinctively find such conclusions too casual. As a Chinese, I am also struck by the tolerance shown in public space toward such casual claims. It is precisely at such moments that I find myself wishing that my international friends and colleagues could know more about the work and mindset of Chinese legal historians.

But where should we begin? If we want to avoid the problems spotted in Sinology or area studies, what else can we do? Before his visit to China in February this year, German Chancellor Friedrich Merz summarized his view of China in these words: “China can no longer be bypassed” (An China kommt niemand mehr vorbei). Boah! How well put. If China can no longer be bypassed, then perhaps the first thing to do, once we stop walking past it, is to look at it directly.

For researchers, to look directly at the work of our colleagues means, above all, to read what they have written. Perhaps we can therefore begin by asking what our Chinese colleagues were discussing—for example, over the past year, and by finding out what questions mattered to them in 2025.

Surely, this is not an easy task. The Yearbook of Chinese Legal History Studies published by China Social Sciences Press for 2024 already runs to 563 pages, and there is little reason to expect fewer pages for 2025. Still, we may choose some indicators. One such indicator is: what legal history articles managed to “survive” in the core journals of Chinese legal scholarship.

Yes, “survive”. Compared to more than 700 law faculties nationwide, there are only 27 accredited core law journals. This list is compiled by the China Law Society and adjusted annually. None of these journals are dedicated specifically to legal history; in principle, most are open to all fields of law. Publication in these journals is crucial for a legal scholar’s career in China. For a young scholar, lacking even a single publication there, even as a corresponding author, often means having little chance of securing a long-term position at a top university. Yet publication depends not only on the quality of the article itself, but also on various considerations beyond the text. These journals are affiliated with different universities and research institutions, forming distinct camps of their own. To grasp this complexity, German colleagues may simply imagine the process of shortlisting candidates for a professorial chair.

Research that passes through this filter is therefore not necessarily the most innovative or the best in an absolute sense. It is, however, the most competitive, and the kind that best reflects shared assumptions and Zeitgeist within the community. Each article is the outcome of repeated negotiation among authors, editors, and institutions. What could be more suitable for sketching the “mindset” of Chinese legal history scholarship in 2025?

General Observation

Of the 27 journals, two belong to legal journalism, and are therefore excluded. Among the remaining 25 journals, seven did not publish a single article related to legal history in 2025 (including the only two English-language journals on the list). Of the remaining 18 journals, a total of 57 legal history articles were published, as shown below:

or download the entire list (journals and their themes) here

For the convenience of the discussion that follows, each article has been assigned a number. Compared to the previous years, the number of legal history articles published in 2025 declined significantly. Even Tribune of Political Science and Law: Journal of China University of Political Science and Lawand Journal of East China University of Political Science and Law, the two journals that published the largest number of legal history articles, and whose host institutions are among the most important centres of legal history research in China—did so only in relative terms. Measured against their total annual output, legal history articles still made up only a small proportion. Based on their themes, these articles can be grouped as follows:

or download the entire list (journals and their themes) here

This categorisation is, of course, entirely subjective and fully open to criticism. Nevertheless, I believe that these themes reflect, at least in my view, the main concerns of Chinese legal history scholarship over the past year. Some of them belong to classic paradigms that have been influential since the 1980s; others represent newer trends that have emerged more recently and deserve closer attention. In what follows, I will introduce these groups in ascending order, beginning with the smaller clusters and moving toward the larger ones.

(1) Institutional History (3 articles)

Articles in this category discuss historical developments through the use of contemporary legal institution concepts, such as economic regulation law, procuratorial public interest litigation, or urban law. None of these concepts existed in traditional China. This, however, does not prevent scholars from treating them as valid analytical tools for examining imperial China and the Republican period. Such scholarly practice has a long history in Chinese legal historiography and was especially common in its early days. Legal historians in the 1980s, for example, were particularly fond of debating whether ancient China had a constitution, or whether civil law or criminal law played the more important role.

In recent years, articles of this kind have declined sharply in number, and their topics have become increasingly specialised. It is therefore worth noting that, despite an awareness of the conceptual problems involved, scholars still continue this practice, most likely for specific reasons. One example is the article by Zhang Jinfan and Yan Jingyi on “economic regulatory law in ancient China” (No. 3). Departing from the traditional paradigm, which tended to emphasise imperial exploitation, their article instead focuses on how the ancient state used law to maintain economic stability and fiscal revenue effectively.

(2) Methodology and Disciplinary History (4 articles)

Similar to the situation faced by many of their international counterparts, Chinese legal historians in recent years have increasingly felt a sense of disciplinary marginalisation. Two articles by You Chenjun offer a particularly clear summary of this shared anxiety. In the article with a shorter temporal focus (No. 23), You traces how Chinese legal history, rebuilt after the Cultural Revolution, moved from a period of prosperity into what he describes as a “crisis”: from joint reflections on the historical profession and the growing distance between the humanities and society, to marginalisation within legal professional education, and finally to recent uncertainty about the discipline’s identity. In another article with a much longer time horizon (No. 16), he provides a more detailed account of methodological exploration in Chinese legal history across the entire twentieth century—from fragmented experiments in the Republican era, through to the dominance of class analysis in the early People’s Republic, to the methodological enthusiasm of the 1990s, sparked by both self-reflection and the influence of overseas Sinology.

In both articles, You emphasises the significance of legal history within the discipline of law and argues that the legal historian’s primary interlocutors should remain their colleagues in law. The other two articles reinforce many of his points: one (No. 36) examines the changing meanings of the concept of “law” in Chinese legal history, while the other (No. 27) discusses the influence of overseas Sinology on the field.

(3) Legal History of the Revolutionary Period and People’s Republic (4 articles)

As will be discussed in more detail below, unlike in other socialist countries, and unlike in China itself several decades ago, the legal history of the People’s Republic is no longer a primary laboratory for contemporary ideological construction. Combined with practical concerns, this means that only a small number of studies appear each year in this important field, though they are often more than interesting enough. Two articles (No. 4 and No. 57) examine a distinctive legal concept developed by the Communist Party of China (CPC): zhengfa (政法, lit. politics-law). This concept emerged in a period when law was understood as the Party’s “knife handle,” yet it remains operative even today. Another article applies Carl Schmitt’s theory to an analysis of the 1954 Constitution. As will be shown below, this may seem puzzling at first glance, but on closer inspection it proves to be a phenomenon with its own clear logic.

(4) Foreign Legal History (5 articles)

In earlier periods, when China was filled with curiosity about the outside world, foreign legal history served as a conduit, through which Chinese legal scholarship engaged with the world. Scholars were not only eager to learn what Western legal systems looked like, but also to understand why they took that particular form. Today, however, scholars of foreign legal history must confront the difficulty of publishing in top-tier journals. The articles that appeared in core legal journals in 2025 share a common feature: a strong focus on Europe. Britain is the most frequently discussed country, followed by Germany. These two countries, which have attracted sustained attention from Chinese legal scholars since the late Qing period, continue to receive the most serious and sustained engagement today.

(5) Lüxue (5 articles)

Lüxue (律学), or the traditional legal learning, was the technical and bureaucratic learning through which imperial law codes were interpreted and commented upon. During the decade-long preparation of PR China’s Civil Code, the codes of imperial China were regarded as the spiritual ancestors of modern Chinese codification and were therefore given renewed attention. At the same time, the Japanese scholarly tradition that has exerted a strong influence on China since the 1990s has also placed great emphasis on the reconstruction of traditional lüxue. Shaped by these two factors, lüxue once formed the central axis of Chinese legal history studies.

Although research on lüxue in 2025 is no longer as vibrant as it once was, some scholars continue to uphold this tradition. As Li Junqiang (No. 32) puts it: “As long as cases continue to arise, there is no need to worry that lüxue knowledge will lack heirs.”

(6) Modern Chinese Legal History (8 articles)

In this context, “modern China” refers to late Qing and the Republican periods, from 1840 to 1949. Compared with the relative reticence surrounding the legal history of the People’s Republic, and the conceptual distance that separates traditional China from contemporary legal terminology, this field allows Chinese legal historians to make fuller use of western legal concepts in discussing historical events. The legal history articles on modern China published this year also reflect several long-standing themes in the field: reflections on colonialism, translation, and the court operation. The latter two themes, in particular, are those through which Chinese legal historians most readily enter into dialogue with scholars of doctrinal law: The extensive translation practices of modern China provides fertile ground for approaches drawn from global history and the history of knowledge; meanwhile, the many complaints voiced by Chinese judges in the 1920s are surely ones that Chinese judges in the 2020s would also be willing to listen to.

(7) The Zones of Overlap (11 articles)

As noted above, You Chenjun has discussed the uncertainty surrounding the disciplinary identity of Chinese legal history since the early 2000s. The eleven articles published this year offer a vivid illustration of this condition. They can be divided into three groups, which correspond neatly to three already-established fields within Chinese historical studies: intellectual history, the history of property institutions, and the history of administrative institutions.

The articles by Shao Fang, Ma Teng, and Li Chengyu (No. 22, No. 46, No. 55) could easily be placed within the more competitive field of Chinese intellectual history, where one may assume they would be readily welcomed by colleagues there. Four articles (No. 13, No. 25, No. 35, No. 38) address traditional property institutions in early modern China, a topic that has long attracted strong interest in both Chinese history and Chinese legal history. To some extent, the literature shaping both disciplines comes from the same sources: Japanese and American Sinologists. Post-war Japanese Sinology was itself deeply influenced by legal scholarship, and many of its foundational figures had participated in custom surveys conducted by the Japanese occupation authorities in China during the Second World War. The land reform campaigns of the Communist Party of China further intensified their interest (Hatada, 1973). American scholarship on Chinese legal history, by contrast, has traditionally been closer to area studies and historic studies than to doctrinal law. Questions surrounding property institutions in early modern China were closely connected to debates on the sprouts of Chinese capitalism, and analytical approaches from American economics were widely introduced into this field (Alford, 1986).

Administrative institutions form both a foundational training in Chinese historical studies and a classic topic in legal history. The studies of administrative institutions constitute one of the four canonical areas of traditional Chinese historiography. Since nineteenth-century Japanese scholars began to describe Qing administrative manuals as “administrative law,” legal scholars have become increasingly involved in this field.

(8) The Chinese Legal Tradition and Chinese Legal Culture (17 articles)

Compared with previous years, year 2025 shows more clearly a shift in the narrative of Chinese legal history: the concepts of the “Chinese legal system” and “Chinese legal culture” are gradually replacing “Chinese legal history” itself. A total of seventeen articles, almost 30% of an already limited space for legal history, engage with these two concepts. This alone indicates that they represent the central concern of the field at present. In response to the perceived crisis of Chinese legal history, scholars have identified their path of renewal here: what they study is not a history that belongs merely to the “past,” but a living culture and a legal system that continues to exert influence. More importantly, this culture and legal system are understood as profoundly distinctive and specifically Chinese.

From this perspective, legal historians are less positioned as historians in the conventional sense and, borrowing Jan Assmann’s terminology, more as scribers who generate canon and cultural memory within the flow of tradition (Assmann, 1992). Through targeted remembrance of historical China, legal historians hope to participate in the reconstruction of an “independent system of legal knowledge” in contemporary China. I have discussed this most powerful current in Chinese legal history in greater detail in a separate blog post, where I examine why it has emerged and what it may mean for both our Chinese colleagues and our international peers.

Epilogue

These articles have passed through layer after layer of review before finally appearing in China’s leading journals. Some, though emerging from different contexts, are not far from the questions that concern their international counterparts. Others come from a different world of meaning. As a legal historian from China, presenting these voices here does not mean that I welcome every trend they represent. It means only that they are here.

For me, to look back on each scholarly tradition of Chinese legal history is also to recall certain people and classrooms. It brings back deeply embodied memories. Sounds and colours reach my conscious awareness before any judgement of reading or taste. When I stand before my international colleagues, it is precisely these embodied experiences that shape my overall attitude toward other traditions. The blogpost I have written here is therefore no more than a modest attempt to ferry something between two worlds of meaning.

A Habermasian public sphere presupposes a minimal and universalist form of “understanding”. But what happens when the very basis of understanding is fragile from the beginning? In a recent article, the Guardian columnist George Monbiot argues for an attitude of “radical listening”: “Being heard is valuable in its own right. Loneliness and alienation, as well as being the feedstock of fascism, are major causes of human misery.” This is true of a democratic society. It is also true of the public space of an international scholarly community.

This essay is therefore more like an invitation extended to our international colleagues: let words from another world of meaning strike your retina, challenge the limits of your understanding, and open new possibilities for global legal history. If Chinese scholars can discuss Habermas and Luhmann’s systems theory at forums in Shanghai, then it should not be too much to expect that we might discuss China’s current and vigorous project of an “independent knowledge system” here in Frankfurt.

References

Alford, William P. “The Inscrutable Occidental? Implications of Roberto Unger’s Uses and Abuses of the Chinese Past.” Texas Law Review 64, 1986, 915-972.

Assmann, Jan. Das kulturelle Gedächtnis: Schrift, Erinnerung und politische Identität in frühen Hochkulturen. München: C.H. Beck, 1992.

HATADA, Takashi (旗田巍). Chinese Villages and Community Theory [中国村落と共同体理論]. Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten, 1973.

KOYASU, Nobukuni (子安宣邦). How Have the Japanese Spoken of China? [日本人は中国をどう語ってきたか]. Tokyo: Seidosha, 2012.