SHANGHAI - While the immediate plight of victims of the cyclone in Myanmar and earthquake in Sichuan, China, dominates the news, the political aftershocks are often not readily apparent for years after disaster strikes. From the explosion of Vesuvius to Hurricane Katrina, establishment politicians and parties have often found their political foundations structurally damaged, sometimes leading to the complete collapse of their rule.

  Here in China, the government has clearly learned some lessons. For the past week, news organizations have been constantly reporting from Sichuan and highlighting what seems to be Beijing's fast and effective response. But there are some underlying political tremors whose magnitude cannot yet be fully measured.

When and how do natural disasters affect domestic politics?

First, the impact is often delayed. Initial news reports are filled with heroic rescues and valiant efforts by security forces to save lives. If government fails at this stage, the impact may be immediate and catastrophic to the political health of the incumbent party, as President George W. Bush discovered after Katrina. Investigations may turn up faulty construction or bad planning. Lingering homelessness is a potent reminder of government failure. Perhaps the most imperceptible force eroding the old regime may be the experience of independent civic action.

In electoral democracies, effective responses to emergencies can raise the profile of a leader -- as it did temporarily for New York Mayor Rudy Giuliani -- but an ineffective response will lead to harsh criticism and can scuttle a career.

In authoritarian systems, the key is whether breaches exist within the ruling circles. Motivated either by ambition or reform, renegades within the ruling elite often find in disaster an opportunity to take the offensive against entrenched leaders.

MYANMAR

In the case of Myanmar, the refusal of the military junta to allow respected international agencies to distribute aid might matter little if the generals are as solidly committed to regime survival, as apparently has been the case. The Myanmar media has reported 78,000 deaths and 56,000 missing from Cyclone Nargis, but the International Red Cross says the toll is probably 128,000 with another 1.2 million survivors threatened by disease and starvation.

According to international reports, the Myanmar media has repeatedly broadcast images of generals consoling victims. But the propaganda may not be the main reason the regime survives. Unlike Nicaragua, there are few independent economic groups that might desert the government and support Aung San Suu Kyi, the well-known opposition leader under house arrest. Nor is there a mainstream insurgency to which they can turn.

As depressing a thought as it may be, the imminent deaths from starvation and diseases of thousands of children may not be enough to drive the junta from power any time soon in the absence of dissidents within its own ranks. However, in the longer run, the regime's callous response to disaster may embolden the population to back the protests of Buddhist monks, which were violently suppressed in September 2007.

China's Response to the Earthquake

Beijing's response to the Sichuan earthquake of May 12 has set several national precedents for independent civilian action and media coverage. The quake is expected to take at least 50,000 lives and has injured more than 200,000. Officials say that at least 4.2 million people, roughly the equivalent of Norway, have been left homeless. Some international agencies predict that 12 million people will have to be re-settled eventually.

New York Times reporters Jim Yardley and David Barboza reported (May 20) from the earthquake zone "an unexpected mobilization, prompted partly by unusually vigorous and dramatic coverage of the disaster in the state-run news media." Thousands of Chinese have contributed money, and much like Americans streamed to New Orleans, many Chinese have organized efforts to offer direct aid, outside official channels.

I witnessed some of this response here in Shanghai. A student, whom we shall call "Victoria," approached me to make a donation. I asked if the money were going to the Chinese Red Cross or some other aid agency.

No, she said. Government and international agencies were responding too slowiy, and she was concerned that too much of the aid money was being absorbed by administration. Friends and relatives in her home city, just outside the region, had organized their own response.

"We will take your donation here in Shanghai, and we will ensure that within three days it will be delivered in the form of noodles and rice, medical supplies, rubber gloves and other things immediately needed," she said.

The New York Times also cited the startling new independence of the official media, which defied orders to stay out of the earthquake region. Recently, the state's English language TV station directly broadcast a report from a village that had yet, a week after the quake, to be reached by official troops, but were surviving on their own pooled resources. The obvious question: If the reporter could reach the village, why hadn't the authorities?

This is not to say that the official response has been ineffective or weak. The People's Liberation Army has responded professionally and heroically. Chinese Premier Wen Jiabao flew to the disaster areas within 24 hours, and President Hu Jintao followed days later. The media aired mini-documentaries of the officials giving orders to "redouble" efforts to find survivors, consoling victims, and giving morale building speeches to troops.

Was it propaganda? Undoubtedly, but the PR effort was made much easier by the genuine shock and sadness evident in the eyes of the two leaders.

Long-Term Consequences for China

Given the black eye that China suffered in the international media after the riots in Tibet and human-rights protests leading up to the Olympics here in August, the tragedy in Sichuan has shifted the frame for coverage of China, at least for a while. The fast and effective deployment of the army and other government resources will probably give the leadership a popularity boost at home. But what about the long-term implications?

The most salient issues, and the most threatening to Communist Party unity and hegemony, may arise out of troubling questions about the collapse of schools and the high death toll among children. As a result of China's single-child policies, many families face the possibility of growing old without children, possibly the extinction of their family lines. The grief of parents over the loss of a child is always heart-wrenching, but here were parents grieving as well over the loss of their futures.

It is evident that schools were not built up to code. Many collapsed buildings were multi-story, un-reinforced masonry or concrete. The media, again uncharacteristically bold, have been asking how this happened. Heads will roll, literally. But this time the questions may go to the nature of the system itself.

It is possible that Hu Jintao will encourage action beyond simple vengeance and scape-goating. Hu came into power promising to reinforce the "rule of law," arguing that such a development must take priority over more radical democratization in the form of elections.

Furthermore, Hu commissioned a study of the factors that led to the demise of other one-party rule. We know that this included the fall of the Italian Christian Democrats and the Mexican PRI, so the consequences cannot have escaped the Chinese leader. We probably will not see competitive elections any time soon in China, but we may well see efforts to strengthen the judiciary, a more open and vigorous press, and greater use of ombudsmen.

Such a controlled response, however, may not be enough. Tens of thousands of young people have mobilized and been exposed to poor conditions in the countryside. Hundreds of thousands have for the first time since 1949 undertaken civic action independent of the party and associated institutions.

I asked Victoria if should would like to organize an on-campus event. I would round up some expatriate fellow musicians and we would put on a fund-raising concert.

"No," she explained. The university would get involved and say, "Why are you doing this yourself instead of going through us?" It is not just a cultural inclination toward a collective response. Politically, explained Victoria, the university would get credit for money raised for relief, and it would be channeled through official agencies, which meant delay and administrative costs.

In the absence of protest since Tiananmen Square, youth and students have been invisible. In a society that stresses disciplined cooperation in the name of national advancement, and in a city where 17 million people seem united more by pursuit of profit than a classless society, the earthquake seems to have awoken a slumbering idealism in the young. It may take years, but we are likely to look back at this disaster as the point at which China's civil society began to assert itself.