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Henriot and Yeh have produced a rich and highly readable volume on Shanghai during the 1937–1945 Japanese occupation period. Many of the path-breaking essays are based on primary sources from newly accessible Shanghai archives.
The volume is divided into three sections, broadly on economic, political and cultural history. In the first section, Christian Henriot and Parks Coble both demonstrate that the Shanghai capitalists left in the city were caught in a tight situation: they had little choice but to co-operate with the Japanese, who wanted to make Shanghai into another economic powerhouse in their Co-Prosperity Sphere but who were also exploitative and driven by military rather than commercial needs. On the other hand, the exiled Nationalists considered Chinese businessmen who co-operated with Japan to be collaborators, rendering them vulnerable to assassination during the war and condemnation after it. Frederic Wakeman explores the way in which smuggling became part of the economic and cultural landscape in supplying wartime Shanghai, and Sherman Cochran looks at a “fixer,” Xu Guanqun, who played for high stakes selling medicines across enemy lines, demonstrating that the neutral “island” of the foreign concessions in Shanghai from 1937 to 1941 was hardly an impermeable one. Allison Rottmann completes this section by rethinking the rural narrative of Communist Revolution, showing that Shanghai helped to supply and shape the politics of the central China base area.
Readers who expect a comprehensive analysis of biological science in modern China, as the blurb on the jacket promises, may be disappointed: this book specifically contrasts the small community of followers of T. H. Morgan in Republican China with the state-sponsored rise of Lysenkoism after 1949. The first part follows the development of genetics and evolutionary theory in three universities in China, namely National Central University in Nanjing; the missionary school of Yanjing University in Beijing, linked to the Rockefeller Foundation's Peking Union Medical College; and Nanjing University, an American missionary school closely tied to Cornell. The author shows that training in biology and genetics developed in these three schools, thanks to substantial philanthropic involvement from the United States, as a “transfer” of knowledge took place between Chinese life scientists and major American institutions.
While the author presents valuable biographies of a small number of scientists such as Chen Zhen, Tan Jiazhen and Tang Peisong, and succeeds in recreating the political and institutional context within which these three geneticists operated, his work is insufficiently grounded in primary sources. The literature produced by biologists in Republican China is never invoked in any systematic way, the first chapter being largely based on Chen Zhen's biology textbook to create the impression of a neat “transfer” of knowledge from the United States. However, incompatible theories in biology were often invoked, contradictory ideas about evolution were bandied around, and vague phrases on “struggle for survival” were widespread in dozens of biology textbooks, many far more popular than Chen Zhen's work: neo-Lamarckism and Mendel-Morganism were never tidily organized into two “schools,” and they could even overlap, as very different writers from complex backgrounds struggled to make sense of an ever-growing global repertoire of biological theories. In Europe and the United States too, biologists disagreed over the relative importance of nurture versus nature, and China was no exception: diversity, elided by the author in favour of a fairly simplistic notion of an American success in Republican China before the failure of Lysenkoism under Soviet influence, is precisely what makes pre-1949 biology such a fascinating field.
China's overall telecommunications development during the past 20 years has been remarkable, and in 2004 the nation ranks first in the world in numbers of both mobile and fixed-line telephones, and second in the number of internet users. However, the recent growth has left the country's vast population with an internal communications and digital divide among “haves” and “have nots,” with citizen access mainly separated along economic and regional lines. This article assesses the growth of the communications divide, reasons for its occurrence, and ways political, economic and technological forces are shaping the spread of China's telecommunications tools.
Suisheng Zhao has assembled this volume from articles recently published in the Journal of Contemporary China, which he edits. Its chapters cover recognizable terrain for political scientists: whether China, as a rising power, will seek to maximize its relative or absolute gains; the likelihood its increasing power will tend towards status-quo or belligerent lines; and the degree of Chinese ‘exceptionalism’ when compared with other countries. As the subtitle might suggest, the contributions present China in a favourable light, stressing how China's leaders have spurned ideological purism for the pragmatic weighing of national interests, with only nationalism to serve as a double-edged sword by conferring legitimacy on the government, but potentially also taking it away. The assertion that strategic calculations govern Chinese foreign policy contrasts with other interpretations, such as those of David Lampton in Same Bed, Different Dreams, who assigns a large role to domestic politics, or Peter Gries in Understanding Chinese Nationalism, who highlights the constraining role of nationalist ideology on the ability of China's leaders to de-escalate crises with other countries. Zhao's contribution lies less in defending the assertion of pragmatism against those competing perspectives and more in drawing upon it in offering fresh material.
The stagnation in banking sector reform is puzzling given the Chinese leadership's seeming resolve to reform other sectors of the economy. This article develops a political explanation of why reform oriented central bureaucrats have centralized financial power without liberalizing the banking sector. The starting point of this explanation is that top bureaucrats value political survival as much as other members of the Politburo. Thus, they make policies based on both political and economic considerations. This framework is tested on three cases related to China's non-performing loan (NPL) problem: the politicization of the NPL problem, policies designed to slow the creation of NPLs and policies aimed at decreasing the pool of NPLs. The findings strongly suggest that political considerations play a large role in shaping financial policies in China.
The two preceding chapters analyzed the China policy debate within the Kennedy and Johnson administrations and traced American officials' arguments for and against relaxing China policy in the 1960s. They demonstrated that four distinct subdiscourses about China existed within the internal official discourse, each a representation of the perceived identity and characteristics of China, of the Sino-American relationship, and of resulting U.S. interests and policy stances. These are summarized in Table 4.1.
Table 4.1 highlights how each discourse focused on particular aspects of China's identity, used separate frames of reference, and made distinct policy recommendations. The Red Menace image emphasized China's aggressive hostility toward the noncommunist world, working from the 1950s international framework of two opposing rigid blocs in a Cold War. The second hostile discourse based on the image of China as Revolutionary Rival used the less rigid international framework resulting from the Sino-Soviet split to suggest selective opposition to the more militant Chinese brand of communism. The two revisionist subdiscourses of China, on the other hand, stressed indigenous aspects of Chinese identity. The Troubled Modernizer image was concerned with China's poverty and “basic needs” crises, viewed through the lens of Western models of socioeconomic development. The policy recommendation was that Washington should try to encourage the ascendance of the moderate elements of the Chinese leadership that wanted to concentrate on these internal problems, thereby muting China's external hostility.
As the hostile policy discourse toward Communist China evolved and became more acute and yet also more ambiguous during the 1960s, a parallel revisionist discourse was developing both in reaction to events and as a result of personal convictions. Throughout the decade, a number of officials within the Kennedy and Johnson administrations worked to convince their colleagues of the need to alter the official U.S. position toward the PRC. This group combined liberal Democratic stalwarts such as Chester Bowles, Averell Harriman, and Adlai Stevenson; “old China hands” such as Edward Rice; and Asian and China specialists such as Roger Hilsman, Edwin Reischauer, James Thomson, and Robert Komer. They variously occupied the main China advisory positions in the State Department and the White House and headed key diplomatic posts.
These officials pushed for the relaxation of China policy and accumulated a “shopping list” of possible American initiatives that included lifting the travel ban on Americans wishing to visit China, removing trade restrictions on nonstrategic goods, inviting the Chinese to disarmament negotiations, and ending Beijing's exclusion from the UN on the basis of various “two Chinas” arrangements. They advanced arguments that were based on two central revised images of China, focusing in turn on its weakness and poverty, and on its pride and potential strength. Together, these two images identified China in ways that revealed potential common areas of understanding between the United States and China. Initially, the revisionist discourse was submerged within internal memoranda, waged as personal campaigns by midlevel officials.
Great ideas can change history, but only if great leadership comes along that can give those ideas force. … What lifts great leaders above the second-raters is that they are more forceful, more resourceful, and have a shrewdness of judgment that … enables them to identify the fleeting opportunity.
Richard Nixon
Richard Nixon's opening to China in 1972 has been indelibly associated with balance-of-power politics and its attendant assumption of a sudden, almost automatic realist reaction to structural changes from 1969 onward. Yet Nixon had been a prominent figure in the U.S. government since the 1950s and had maintained a high-profile involvement with communist and Asian affairs during the 1960s, when he was out of office. This chapter traces Nixon's thinking about China policy prior to, and during the first two years of, his presidency and investigates its relationship to the developing discourse of reconciliation in official and informed public circles during the 1960s. Did Nixon, in keeping with his front-line Republican conservative position, perceive China as a “Red Menace” to be ruthlessly contained and isolated? How then did he turn to the discourse of reconciliation with China that accompanied his moves toward rapprochement when he took office?
“TOUGH COEXISTENCE”: NIXON'S CHINA POLICY THINKING AS VICE PRESIDENT, 1952–1960
Nixon's early political career was built significantly upon anticommunist foundations. Shortly after being elected a congressman from California in 1947, he was appointed to the Herter Committee, which undertook a study tour of Europe in preparation for the Marshall Plan.
Kissinger to Nixon: “The crucial factor … will be the Chinese judgment of our seriousness and reliability: this litmus test will determine their future policy. … Our essential requirement is to demonstrate that we are serious enough to understand the basic forces at work in the world and reliable enough to deliver on the commitments we make.”
Zhou to Nixon: “… in view of the current interests of our two countries … we may find common ground. But this common ground must be truly reliable. It should not be a structure built upon sand, because that structure will not be able to stand.”
In the process of constructing a new relationship with Beijing, Washington had not only to cultivate a convergence in worldviews and in the appreciation of certain common national interests, but also to demonstrate its willingness to act in accordance with the basic principles governing the relationship. The latter included the agreement to counter hegemony in Asia and the aim of working toward normalization of relations. Between 1971 and 1972, the two sides established regular high-level channels of contact that would allow bilateral communication and policy coordination. This took two forms: Kissinger's occasional trips to Beijing and, in between, his secret meetings, first with the Chinese Ambassador Huang Zhen in Paris and then with the Chinese UN Representative Ambassador Huang Hua in a CIA “safe house” in New York after the PRC gained UN representation in October 1971.
Your handshake came over the vastest ocean in the world – twenty-five years of no communication.
Chinese Prime Minister Zhou Enlai to President Richard Nixon, Beijing, 21 February 1972
It was the week that changed the world.
Nixon, Shanghai, 27 February 1972
President Richard Nixon's historic visit to the People's Republic of China in February 1972 marked a Sino-American rapprochement and the beginning of the route to normalization of relations. This came more than twenty years after mainland China was “lost” to the communists and, less than a year later in 1950, attacked American-led United Nations forces in Korea. Thereafter, a key tenet of U.S. Cold War strategy was to “contain” Communist China by means of bilateral alliances and military bases in East Asia, and to isolate it by severing trade, travel, and diplomatic contacts and refusing to recognize the communist regime. The next twenty years were characterized by American opposition to UN membership for mainland China, three crises in the Taiwan Straits, offensive rhetoric, threats of nuclear attack, and the fighting of a proxy war in Vietnam. In ending this hostile estrangement in 1972, Nixon thus executed a dramatic reversal of U.S. China policy. The U.S.–China rapprochement was the most significant strategic shift of the Cold War prior to 1989, more so than the Sino-Soviet split. As Nixon and his National Security Adviser Henry Kissinger claimed, the rapprochement “changed the world” by transforming a Cold War international system made up of two opposing ideological blocs into a tripolar one in which great-power foreign policy was conducted on the basis of “national interest” and power balancing.
This chapter traces and offers some explanations for the transition, in practice, from a rapprochement relationship in which China was characterized as a “former enemy” – a fellow realist power with whom the United States cultivated a mutual distrust of the Soviet Union, and toward whom the United States “tilted” covertly while pursuing a superpower détente – to a relationship that encompassed more intimate diplomatic and military ties with a China represented as a “tacit ally.” The latter contained a much more overt anti-Soviet focus, within which Kissinger emphasized offering strategic reassurance to the Chinese and the development of conceptual and domestic opinion bases for a closer security relationship, while bargaining for more favorable terms of diplomatic normalization.
After the Beijing summit, the negotiation of the U.S.–PRC rapprochement was closely influenced both by triangular politics and by domestic politics. At the same time, the sustained interaction between the two sides had a significant impact upon the development of the discursive context and resulting policy actions. Interestingly, this process was again characterized by competing discourses: this time, Kissinger's representation of the Soviet threat and U.S.–PRC relations versus that of the Chinese leaders. Kissinger portrayed the Chinese not just as former adversaries or friends but as tacit allies, whose strategic viewpoint increasingly coincided with that of the United States and who placed their priority on anti-Soviet aspects of the relationship rather than on bilateral issues.
Kissinger: “Many visitors have come to this beautiful, and to us, mysterious land. … All have departed with new perspectives. …”
Zhou: “You will find it not mysterious. When you have become familiar with it, it will not be as mysterious as before.”
As the president's personal envoy, Henry Kissinger flew secretly to Beijing from Pakistan on 9 July 1971 and stayed for two days of talks with Zhou Enlai. Upon his return, Kissinger characterized those discussions as “the most searching, sweeping and significant … I have ever had in government.” These meetings, he reported to Nixon, marked a “major new departure in international relations,” and the Nixon administration now had the opportunity to “transform the very framework of global relationships.”
In spite of the prior back channel messages, Kissinger's first trip was in some ways a step into the unknown, and his fundamental task was to establish whether the Chinese leaders were indeed ready to relate to the United States in a nonhostile and nonmilitant fashion. Kissinger found that the small coterie of Chinese leaders he met were people whom he could deal with. More than that, he was clearly in awe of Zhou, and drawn to admiration and respect for the man whom he felt “ranks with Charles De Gaulle as the most impressive foreign statesman I have met.”