On the political front, Mr. Wang began a campaign for “Happy Guangdong,” derided by critics as empty sloganeering. But he also spoke more seriously of officials’ need to heed the “sunken voices” of the masses. In June, he declared that “the economic rights of some of the grass roots have not been protected and their political rights are not being realized.”

Solving those problems, he added, is more important than “singing and praising glories.” Many took that as a jab at Bo Xilai, the ambitious party secretary of the Chongqing municipality who has pushed to revive Maoist culture and is often portrayed as Mr. Wang’s rival.

But Mr. Wang’s apparent support for greater political openness has not borne much fruit. Six months into his tenure, he considered making Shenzhen, the commercial hub of more than 10 million that is considered the birthplace of China’s economic reforms, a showcase for political change. The plan envisioned a gradual shift to the direct election of many officials, a strengthening of local legislatures and a study of how the party-controlled judiciary could be made independent.

None of that came to pass. “The plan was really bold and probably too radical,” said Xiao Bin, an economics professor at Sun Yat-sen University. At a meeting in August 2008 in Shenzhen, he said, he warned Mr. Wang and others that “anything so comprehensive coming out of Shenzhen would send shock waves around the country” — and ultimately backfire.

Instead, Mr. Wang approved more mundane administrative reforms in a relatively obscure district called Shunde, combining 41 government departments and their parallel party structures into 16. Scholars say the new structure is more efficient, with fewer party functionaries lacking clear duties.

Mr. Wang also allowed Guangzhou, the provincial capital, to publish its budget for the first time in October 2009. While a national law passed the previous year allowed Chinese citizens to request such information, it also gave officials wide latitude to withhold it to protect state secrets or society’s interests. Indeed, on the same day that Guangzhou posted figures for 114 agencies online, Shanghai declared its budget a state secret. So many people tried to view the Guangzhou budget that the Web site’s server crashed. After angry citizens complained that the city had allocated more than $11 million to operate kindergartens for the children of government workers, the city agreed to gradually reduce the subsidy.

Guangdong also made it easier for nongovernmental organizations like charities and environmental groups to register as legal entities. As of next July, organizations no longer will be required to find a “responsible supervisor” — typically a government-run organization with a party committee — to sponsor their registration.