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Post by Admin on Jul 20, 2020 20:54:54 GMT
Date:
Monday, June 1, 2020, 6:00pm to 7:00pm
Location:
Virtual event
Join the Ash Center and John F. Kennedy Presidential Library and Museum for a virtual event featuring:
Lucy Hornby, a fellow at the Nieman Center for Journalism and former Beijing deputy bureau chief for the Financial Times
Yasheng Huang, MIT professor of international management
Anthony Saich, Daewoo Professor of International Affairs, HKS, Ash Center Director
Over the course of the novel coronavirus crisis, analysts have watched relations between the United States and China spiral to a historic nadir, with scant hope of recovery. There are many reasons for the slide, but Beijing, in a striking departure from its own diplomatic track record, has been taking a much harder line than usual on the international stage—so much so, that even the most seasoned observers are wondering whether China’s foreign policy has fundamentally changed.
China’s approach to the world was, of course, never ironclad. Many factors determine a country’s diplomatic strategy, from its history, culture, and geography to the nature of its regime and its relative global power. If a government perceives one or more of these factors to have changed, so, too, may its diplomacy. But as COVID-19 has ravaged the globe, Chinese President Xi Jinping has appeared to defy many of his country’s long-held foreign policy principles all at once. It is too early to tell with certainty, but China—imbued with crisis-stoked nationalism, confident in its continued rise, and willing to court far more risk than in the past—may well be in the middle of a foreign policy
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Post by Admin on Jul 21, 2020 8:02:48 GMT
The British government announced that U.K. telecom carriers will be banned from installing new Huawei equipment for their 5G network by year’s end, effectively cutting China’s tech champion out of the country’s 5G future… a future which Chinese companies had grand plans to dominate. It’s time we acknowledge that the U.S. fight for tech supremacy versus China has been the single most successful foreign policy of the Donald Trump Administration. It’s not even close.
Countries like Canada, Australia, New Zealand and Japan have all cut out Huawei from their 5G infrastructure plans at the urging of the U.S. Europe has been more hesitant; while Poland, the Czech Republic, Estonia and a few others have pledged to keep companies like Huawei out of their future infrastructure, bigger hitters like Germany, France and Italy have taken a more cautious approach to blanket bans against Chinese hardware in their telecoms systems, though critical decisions are expected to be made in the next few months.
That’s what makes the U.K. decision so significant. The move has the potential to cost the U.K. upwards of £7 billion and hold up 5G rollout in the country by three years. The British government has been agonizing over the decision for months, but what ostensibly pushed them to take the decision was U.S. sanctions against Huawei that forced the company to seek third-party vendors for some of its hardware, introducing new cyber security threats that the U.K. would rather avoid (alongside the ire of the U.S., especially post-Brexit). Other European and Western holdouts will find it difficult to ignore those same considerations when planning for their own 5G futures.
And to his credit, it was under Trump that the issue of tech divergence with China has been prioritized, exposing and publicizing the challenge of a system that potentially gives an authoritarian, state capitalist country such wide-ranging data and surveillance capacity. The Trump administration instituted yet more restrictions on Huawei just, the latest in its months-long push to get allies to fall in line with its adversarial tech approach toward Beijing.
It’s the effectiveness of this last bit that is most surprising—this isn’t exactly friendly multilateral diplomacy. Not many countries would willingly cede to the demands of a White House better known for browbeating traditional U.S. allies than diplomatically engaging with them in good faith.
But there are two critical things the U.S., and by extension the Trump administration, has going for it when it comes to tech. The first is Silicon Valley; for all the billions China has pumped into its own tech industry, the most innovative and cutting-edge tech and talent is still coming out of the U.S.. What’s more, under Trump tech in the U.S. has gone from being just another industry to a critical strategic sector, which will continue no matter who wins the upcoming presidential election in November. Of course, there is a real concern that the continued success of this tech decoupling will ultimately limit the talent available to Silicon Valley and deprive them of the massive Chinese consumer market which will in turn hit their R&D budgets and ability to innovate… but that’s a problem for the next president (though maybe Trump’s if he wins a second term).
The second thing the Trump administration has going for it is that despite Trump’s unorthodox style of diplomacy, at this point a decoupled tech sphere between China and the West is the preferred policy and strategic outcome of virtually every U.S. ally given current geopolitical realities. When the alternative is China potentially using its own dominant position in the market to divide and conquer—a particular concern for the EU that has seen China making aggressive moves into the union’s eastern bloc—that focuses minds fast. When your country’s tech future is at stake, you care less about the person sitting in the White House than the actual policy coming out of that White House.
America First has often been criticized as America Alone. And that’s a fair criticism. But on the issue of tech decoupling, it’s America out front… with most allies on board. And for Trump, that’s far and away his biggest foreign policy win.
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Post by Admin on Jul 29, 2020 22:14:38 GMT
America vs. China? In This New Cold War, the Choice Is No Longer Obvious
The end of America's hegemony isn't the end of the world
In Polish Galicia in the early 20th century, Jewish families split up and members made their way to different parts of the world. Often one part of the family emigrated to America, a second part remained in Poland and a third settled in Palestine. The result is that many Ashkenazi families have a branch in the United States – or, as the phenomenon came to be known in Israel, an “uncle in America.”
My grandfather’s family, which originated in Chortkiv (in contemporary Ukraine), also had a branch that hoped to emigrate to America and perhaps pave the way for the rest of the family. They set out by ship for the New World. But as fate would have it, they were attacked by pirates in mid-ocean. Rumor has it that they were captured and taken to the Arabian Peninsula, where all trace of them was lost. So my grandfather used to say that instead of uncles in America, I might have uncles in Saudi Arabia.
This historical tragedy left me without relatives in America. I’m not complaining, because my family’s fate could have been far worse. Still, the story had a certain effect on the shaping of my personality.
True, as a child I too watched the television series “The Wonder Years” and “Full House.” As with every modern-day person, America is part of my life. But precisely because of that, it has always infuriated me that I was fated to lived in a world dominated by American culture. I was also always puzzled by people’s desire to fall into step with the latest caprices of that empire, in whose shadow I lived without ever having been asked if that’s what I wanted.
Every little sneeze of public opinion in America is felt like an earthquake around the world – and nowhere more so than in Israel. When movements and ideas from the United States are replicated all over the world, it mainly demonstrates global self-annulment in the face of that country. And this is true even in the case of progressive movements and ideas.
For instance, the achievements chalked up by the Black Lives Matter protest movement, which has jolted the United States in the past few weeks, stir emotions here, too, and generate calls to disseminate the message to every corner of the planet. But in fact, this phenomenon also suggests that the lives of Americans are to be considered worthier than the lives of any other group in the world.
The same holds true for the U.S. Supreme Court’s recent ruling on discrimination against employees because of their sexual inclination, a judgment that produced cries of joy among various LGBT communities around the globe – communities that are not even subject to the American judicial system. In general, the international LGBT movement is subordinate to the inordinately extreme domination of the United States: All the terminology, the various identities and sub-identities are American concepts. Every identity-related caprice that originates in Manhattan’s Soho or in the San Francisco Bay Area morphs into some universal edict that is meant to be enforced everywhere.
Some will say, justly: What are you gonna do? America is the leading political and cultural power in the world. Indeed, there isn’t much to be done. But it can be hoped that this power will fade. In recent weeks, against the backdrop of the chaos rampant in the United States, and in the light of America’s growing isolation in the international arena, we are again hearing claims that we are witnessing the decline of the United States as a superpower.
“How hegemony ends: The unraveling of American power,” the authoritative journal Foreign Affairs pronounced in one article; “The end of the American century,” declared The Nation; “The decline of the American world,” The Atlantic prophesied. Tom McTague, a writer for The Atlantic, noted the pity with which many people across the globe now view the United States, which had become, at least in part, dysfunctional. “We are accustomed to listening to those who loathe America, admire America, and fear America… But feeling pity for America? That one is new,” he wrote.
It’s best to be cautious about these forecasts. After the 2008 economic crisis, too, dire predictions were made about the rapid deterioration of the United States – but it turned out that the prophets of doom were too quick to write off its economy and the resilience of its people overall. In fact, the argument that the American empire is sinking and other forces are rising has been voiced time and again since the 1980s. For as long as I can remember, I have been hearing that the United States is done for, but in practice its influence has never been stronger.
In any event, if America’s hegemony is indeed on the wane, there’s no reason to regret it. A recasting of the international balance of forces is the main hope for substantial change in the way the world is being managed – far more than the victory of a particular candidate in the U.S. presidential election.
In the new cold war that is developing between China and America, there is no reason to come to attention obediently by the side of the latter nation. For years the media have been trying to scare us with terrifying scenarios of a global takeover by the frightening Chinese empire. Indeed, there are good reasons to be apprehensive about the domination of the Chinese political model – a centralist dictatorship that aims to maintain a tight grip on the lives of the country’s citizens. But that model could change, as political trends in China have in the past.
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Post by Admin on Aug 6, 2020 7:33:40 GMT
On Aug. 5, PEN America published an explosive report that may put Hollywood on the defensive. Titled "Made in Hollywood, Censored by Beijing," the 94-page study details how the major studios and A-list directors increasingly are making decisions — including cast, plot, dialogue and settings — "based on an effort to avoid antagonizing Chinese officials." The nonprofit that champions free expression cites examples of the studios inviting Chinese government regulators onto their film sets to advise "on how to avoid tripping the censors' wires," including on Marvel's 2013 film Iron Man 3. (The studios did not respond to PEN America when asked about claims in its report.) The report — which chronicles creative choices on such films as Dr. Strange, World War Z and the upcoming Top Gun: Maverick — coincides with criticism from the White House that the studios routinely "kowtow" to the authoritarian government's censorship demands. In addition, Richard Gere — the most high-profile actor to feel China's wrath because of his pro-Tibet statements — appeared before a Senate committee June 30. In his testimony, Gere suggested that economic interests drive studios to avoid social issues that Hollywood once addressed, including Tibet. "Imagine Marty Scorsese's Kundun, about the life of the Dalai Lama, or my own film Red Corner, which is highly critical of the Chinese legal system," Gere said. "Imagine them being made today. It wouldn't happen." Back in 1998, then-Disney chief Michael Eisner apologized for Kundun, which depicted Chinese oppression of the Tibetan people, calling it "a form of insult to our friends," and the studio hired former Secretary of State Henry Kissinger to help with the fallout of the movie. To this day, the film remains radioactive for the studio. (Kundun is not available on Disney+, and the studio did not respond when asked if it plans to add it to the platform.) Appeasement means profits. American movies earned $2.6 billion in China in 2019, with Disney's Avengers: Endgame pulling in $614 million there alone. Perhaps considering the stakes, Disney stayed silent when Mulan star Liu Yifei drew fire last August for posting on social media during the Hong Kong protests: "I support Hong Kong's police, you can beat me up now." The Trump administration also has been on the attack. In a July 16 policy speech, U.S. Attorney General William Barr took aim at studios, saying they have provided "a massive propaganda coup for the Chinese Communist Party." Barr added that Paramount told producers of 2013's World War Z to remove a scene in which characters speculate that a virus, which triggered a zombie apocalypse, may have originated in China. The film, which grossed $540 million globally, never received a release in China, likely because the government frowns upon themes of the undead, ghosts or time travel. (A knowledgeable source says China's zombie film ban is the biggest reason that Paramount wouldn't greenlight a $200 million David Fincher-Brad Pitt pairing for a sequel.) Though PEN and Barr fall on the same side of the fence on China's influence on Hollywood, the nonprofit is no friend of the Trump administration. In 2018, PEN sued President Trump in federal court in an effort to prevent him from using the machinery of the government to retaliate or threaten reprisals against journalists and media outlets for coverage he dislikes (a federal judge in New York ruled in March that the suit can proceed). In a 2017 open letter written by PEN, 65 writers and artists blasted Trump’s visa ban covering seven Muslim-majority countries. The report lays out the growing phenomenon of self-censorship among the studios, fearful of having their films denied entry in the lucrative market and the ways in which flattering the government has become a powerful incentive as it can lead to better release dates, preferential advertising arrangements and a more friendly relationship with Chinese investors and regulators. "Our biggest concern is that Hollywood is increasingly normalizing preemptive self-censorship in anticipation of what the Beijing censor is looking for," says James Tager, PEN deputy director of free expression policy and research and the report's author. USC professor Stan Rosen, an expert on China's film industry, calls the censorship criticism "a perfect storm" that will put a spotlight on the entertainment industry. "It's going to get harder and harder for Hollywood to not respond," Rosen notes.  For those working to raise awareness about human rights abuses when it comes to China's 61-year occupation of Tibet, Hollywood was once a friend and is now a foe. Films like the 1997 Brad Pitt starrer Seven Years in Tibet have been replaced by movies like DreamWorks Animation's 2019 film Abominable, which reinforces Beijing's territorial claims to the South China Sea. For 2016's Doctor Strange, Disney's Marvel was willing to face criticism for whitewashing an Asian character played by Tilda Swinton, and in the process avoided featuring a character who was Tibetan in the comic books. And Skydance/Paramount's Top Gun: Maverick was criticized, as the PEN report notes, for the "mysterious disappearance of the Taiwanese flag" on a flight jacket that was seen in the 1986 original. "If Hollywood is siding with the money, sooner or later they will be on the wrong side and lose money because the general public will stop watching [all] movies," says Washington-based activist Tenzing Barshee, who is president of the Capital Area Tibetan Association. Even more immediate, the industry could be stuck with a damning label when it comes to its relationship with China: hypocritical. Says Tager: "Hollywood enjoys a reputation as being willing to speak truth to power with its own government, which we applaud. We just want that standard to be applied to the rest of the world." |
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Post by Admin on Aug 7, 2020 19:23:55 GMT
The Trump administration has floated the idea of sanctioning Chinese officials and members of the Communist party of China. Before we ask whether this is a good idea, let’s ask how Sino-US relations got to this stage.
The US cold war with the Soviet Union was over ideology, but today’s standoff with China is different. The Chinese state has no ideology, no religion, no moral agenda. It continues wearing socialist garb but only as a face-saving pretence. It has, in fact, become a state-capitalist dictatorship. What the world sees today is a contest between the US system of free-market capitalism and Chinese state capitalism. How should we read this chessboard?
The post-Mao dictatorship in China has lived by the principle of “repress at home and be open to the world”. It has imported knowhow from abroad. There are an estimated 360,000 Chinese students currently enrolled who have come through America’s open door. Over 40 years, at least a million have returned to China and fed their new technical knowledge into the existing authoritarian structures that have built the dictatorship. It might be the most momentous personnel transfer in history.
When I applied to study in the US in the 1980s, I filled out a questionnaire that asked if I had ever been a member of the Communist party. The point of the question was presumably to avoid ideological risks. But it is beyond doubt that the Chinese students coming in with me included many party members who were headed to some of the US’s finest schools, often with scholarships. Americans generally assumed that these students would feel the appeal of liberal values, which they would then take back to China. What happened more often, though, was that Chinese students were quick to see the cultural differences between the two countries, and to draw the very logical conclusion that American values are fine for America but would never work in the Chinese system.
If those US hopes for the exportation of values had panned out, much of China would have been won over by now. But what has actually happened? Returnees are now leaders in much of Chinese business and industry, but anti-American expression in China is as strong today as it has been since the Mao era.
Washington bears much of the responsibility for what has happened. In the years after the Tiananmen Square massacre in 1989, administrations of both parties touted the absurd theory that the best plan was to let China get rich and then watch as freedom and democracy evolved as byproducts of capitalist development.
But did capitalist competition, that ravenous machine that can chew up anything, change China? The regime’s politics did not change a whit. What did change was the US, whose business leaders now approached the Chinese dictatorship with obsequious smiles. Here, after all, was an exciting new business partner: master of a realm in which there were virtually no labour rights or health and safety regulations, no frustrating delays because of squabbles between political parties, no criticism from free media, and no danger of judgment by independent courts. For European and US companies doing manufacture for export, it was a dream come true.
Money rained down on parts of China, it is true. But the price was to mortgage the country’s future. Society fell into a moral swamp, devoid of humanity and difficult to escape. Meanwhile, the west made their adjustments. They stopped talking about liberal values and gave a pass to the dictatorship, in which Deng Xiaoping’s advice of “don’t confront” and Jiang Zemin’s of “lie low and make big bucks” made fast economic growth possible.
European and American business thrived in the early stages of the China boom. They sat in a sedan chair carried up the mountain by their Chinese partners. And a fine journey it was – crisp air, bright sun – as they reached the mountain’s midpoint. But then the chair-carriers laid down their poles and began demanding a shift. They, too, sought the top position. The signal from the political centre in China changed from “don’t pick fights” to “go for it”. Now what could the western capitalists do? Walk back down the mountain? They hardly knew the way.
Covid-19 has jolted the US into semi-awareness of the crisis it faces. The disease has become a political issue for its two major political parties to tussle over, but the real crisis is that the western system itself has been challenged. The US model appears to others as a bureaucratic jumble of competing interests that lacks long-term vision and historical aspiration, that omits ideals, that runs on short-term pragmatism, and that in the end is hostage to corporate capital.
Are sanctions the way to go? A foreign ministry spokesperson in Beijing recently remarked words to the effect that the US and China are so economically interlocked that they would amount to self-sanctions. The US, moreover, would be no match for China in its ability to endure suffering. And there he was correct: in dictatorships, sacrifices are not borne by the rulers. In the 1960s Mao said: “Cut us off? Go ahead – eight years, 10 years, China has everything.” A few years later Mao had nuclear weapons and was not afraid of anyone.
The west needs to reconsider its systems, its political and cultural prospects, and rediscover its humanitarianism. These challenges are not only political, they are intellectual. It is time to abandon the old thinking and the vocabulary that controls it. Without new vocabulary, new thinking cannot be born. In the current struggle in Hong Kong, for example, the theory is simple and the faith is pure. The new political generation in Hong Kong deserves careful respect from the west, and new vocabulary to talk about it.
“Sanctions” is a cold war term that names an old policy. If the US can’t think beyond them, the primacy of its position in this changing world will disappear.
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