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http://www.netzeitung.de
22.10.2005
Online-Medien fördern Pressefreiheit in Südkorea
Korea ist dieses Jahr Schwerpunkt der Frankfurter Buchmesse. Experten loben die Rolle von InternetZeitungen für die Medienfreiheit in Südkorea.
Internetzeitungen haben in Südkorea aus Expertensicht die Medienfreiheit in dem Land wesentlich
gefördert. Online-Medien hätten sich in Südkorea in den vergangenen Jahren "explosionsartig"
entwickelt, sagte der frühere Vorstandssprecher der Organisation Reporter ohne Grenzen, Dietrich
Schlegel, am Samstag bei einer Podiumsdiskussion der Menschenrechtsorganisation amnesty
international auf der Frankfurter Buchmesse.
Gerade angesichts der Situation im Nachbarland China mit einer sehr starken Kontrolle des Internets
könne die Entwicklung in Südkorea nicht hoch genug eingeschätzt werden. Korea ist dieses Jahr
Schwerpunktland der größten Bücherschau der Welt.
Schlegel nannte koreanische Zeitungen wie "OhmyNews", die auch in englischer Sprache Nachrichten
verbreiten, und andere Internet- Publikationen ein "ideales Instrument der Medienentwicklung". Für
OhmyNews" seien Internetnutzer im ganzen Land als eine Art "Volkskorrespondenten im
demokratischen Sinn" tätig.
Die Entwicklung des Internet-Journalismus habe auch dazu beigetragen, dass Südkorea in der von
Reporter ohne Grenzen herausgebrachten Länderliste zur Entwicklung der Informations- und
Meinungsfreiheit von allen asiatischen Ländern am besten abschneide, sagte Schlegel. Von 167
untersuchten Ländern stehe Südkorea an 34. Stelle und damit noch vor Japan oder Taiwan. Das
Schlusslicht bildet in der Liste im vierten Jahr in Folge das stalinistisch geprägte Nordkorea.
Schlegel kritisierte jedoch das immer noch bestehende umstrittene Staatssicherheitsgesetz in
Südkorea, mit dem die Regierung etwa Internetauftritte linksextremer Gruppen oder Websites von
Homosexuellen unter Strafe stellt. "In diesem Fall kann man von Liberalisierung noch nicht reden."
http://www.feer.com
May 2009
Solving Japan's Economic Puzzle
by Kazuo Ueda, May 1, 2009
The current financial crisis has affected virtually all corners of the world. Japan has, of course, been
unable to escape from it. There is, however, a serious puzzle here. As widely documented, Japanese
financial institutions’ exposure to the credit market binge has been relatively limited. Yet, the data to
date suggest that Japan’s recession has been the worst among industrialized countries. Its GDP
dropped by double digits in the fourth quarter of 2008. Data for first quarter 2009 to be released soon
is expected to be equally weak. Japan’s manufacturing production has fallen about 40% from its
recent peak. In contrast, the corresponding figure is about 20% for the United States and 30% for
Germany and South Korea.
Why has Japan been one of the most serious victims of a crisis originated in the U.S.? Let us first
check if financial conditions are an explanation. The central banks of The Group of Three leading
industrial nations (comprising the U.S., Japan and Germany) publish bank loan officers’ survey
detailing banks’ lending attitude to nonfinancial businesses. In the most recent survey 64% of U.S.
banks replied that they have tightened lending attitude to large firms. None of the banks said they
have eased lending attitude. Similarly, 64% of European banks have tightened their lending attitude.
Both areas are clearly in the midst of a credit crunch. In contrast, in the Bank of Japan’s survey, only
8% of the banks have tightened, while 6% eased their lending attitude to large firms. Thus, credit
conditions do not seem to be a major cause of the differential impact of the world financial crisis on
individual economies.
Japan is perceived to rely heavily on foreign trade. In 2007 exports to GDP ratio was 16%. This is
much higher than the U.S., where the number was 8.4%. Many countries, however, depend at least as
much as Japan on foreign trade. The ratio was 15.5% for the United Kingdom, 40% for Germany and
38.3% for South Korea.
According to a different metric, however, Japan has depended much more on exports recently. During
the economic upturn of 2003-07 the contribution of exports to growth was stunningly high at 67%. In
previous upturns the ratio was usually less than 50%. In the late 1980s, Japan’s “bubble” years, it was
less than 10%. More formally, the correlation between export growth and real GDP growth was
surprisingly absent before 1990; the correlation coefficient between the two was minus 0.03 during
1970-90. It rose to 0.61 during 1991-2008. It is higher at 0.73 during the last 10 years. In other words,
in the postbubble period Japan has failed to deliver a domestic demand-led growth and become
increasingly exposed to economic fluctuations in the rest of the world.
The Bank of Japan, in its February monthly report, analyzed the structure of this vulnerability more
carefully. Japan’s manufacturing sector is dominated by industries such as electronics, autos and
general machinery who have been hit hard by the crisis, while in the U.S. the shares of more stable
industries such as food, beverage and tobacco are higher. In addition, Japan’s manufacturing firms’
domestic procurement rate for parts and materials is fairly high, while American firms rely more on
imports for parts and materials supply. Thus, a given demand shock, say, a decrease in exports,
generates larger spill-over effects in Japan.
Changes in Japan’s trading structure have also increased its susceptibility to fluctuations in the rest of
the world. Japan used to be an exporter of final goods. Now, it exports intermediate goods to, say,
China, which then are rerouted to the U.S. When Chinese exports to the U.S. fall, this will in turn affect
Japanese exports, but by more than one for one. This is because Chinese manufacturers try to
decrease intermediate goods inventories, in addition to passing on to Japanese producers the decline
in final goods demand. One comfort of all this analysis is when strength returns to the global
machinery industry, Japan will sure to experience a V-shaped recovery.
Can Japan deliver a domestic demand-led recovery this time? Some point to a progress in inventory
adjustment as a result of the sharp cuts in production during the last few months. The situation,
however, is not that rosy. It is true that the absolute level of inventories declined, on a seasonally
adjusted basis, for two months in a row. Inventories would be at healthy levels if sales were as high as
in the middle of last year. In reality, sales are down by 40%. Thus, the ratio of inventories to sales is at
record highs.
It appears that producers are counting on a near-term rise of sales by 20% to 30%, if not 40%. Should
this fail to materialize, inventories are clearly grossly too high and the manufacturing sector will need
to go into a painful period of production cuts again. How soon should such a rise in sales come?
Common sense suggests it should come within six to nine months. Otherwise expectation of sales and
production plans would surely be affected. Worse still, corporate fixed investment and employment
would also be seriously affected.
Thus, we will need a solid recovery in final demand in order to go into a sustained period of economic
upturn. There is some hope. Above all, the Japanese government has recently submitted a
supplementary budget proposal to the Diet. This has come on the heels of the last year’s
supplementary budget which was just passed in March. The fiscal 2008 package includes a 5 trillion
yen (around $51.5 billion), and the fiscal 2009 package, 15.4 trillion yen of government-outlay
components. Between the two, government’s fiscal outlays total 4% of GDP. In addition, large
amounts of lending and equity injection by semipublic financial institutions are planned.
Economists, however, have a sober view of the effects of the stimulus measures and expect that they
will add to aggregate demand for good and services by about 1.5% to 2.5%. The effects are smaller
than the outlays because some are tax cuts and subsidies which do not raise spending one for one.
Bank lending by public financial institutions may just be substitutes for private-bank lending. Also,
given that the next general election is very close, a significant part of public works included in the
stimulus measures seem to be old-fashioned pork-barrel type spending and have only a small chance
of generating large multiplier effects on the economy.
What would be the course of the Japanese economy once the effects of such stimulus packages are
taken into account? The programs should already be starting to exert effects on the economy. For
example, transfer payments of 12,000 yen per person included in the fiscal 2008 supplementary
budget are now being distributed to the public. Most of the stimulative effects of the packages should
manifest themselves within the next two years. In that sense, the packages have come when they are
most needed.
Private demand for goods and services, however, is expected to stay weak. For example, the Bank of
Japan’s April tankan survey showed that companies are planning to reduce investment spending by
11% in fiscal 2009. Given that investment is 16% of GDP, this will reduce GDP by 1.8%. With some
multiplier effects, the deflationary effects of such a decline in investment seem to more or less offset
the positive effects of the stimulus packages.
There is also a lingering worry about the Japanese financial system. The decline in stock prices since
last September has eroded the capital base of Japanese banks. The Bank of Japan’s financial stability
report indicates that in terms of economic usage of capital large Japanese banks allocate more than
50% of tier 1 capital to their holdings of equities. According to the report’s simulation results, if the
economy were to follow the economists’ consensus path as of February and stock prices stayed as
low as in early March, the tier I ratio of Japanese banks would decline by 1.4 percentage points. In
such a case a serious credit crunch could develop in Japan as well. However, there is a plan by the
government to establish an entity to buy equities from the market to avoid a major collapse in stock
prices.
Such an analysis of domestic sources of demand seems to indicate that the economy will stop
declining soon, probably grow at positive rates for a while, but have hard time delivering a sustained
recovery. The government’s stimulus packages should have been directed more at measures to
generate sustained growth in domestic demand. Once again, it is very likely that the fate of the
Japanese economy will be determined by what will happen in the rest of the world.
Kazuo Ueda, professor of economics at Tokyo University, is a former Bank of Japan policy-board
member.
http://www.feer.com
A Chance to Build on Taiwan's Progress
by Paul Wolfowitz , November 7, 2008
Relations with the People’s Republic of China will inevitably be one of the top foreign-policy concerns
of the next U.S. administration, and not only for President Barack Obama and his secretary of state,
but for the secretary of the treasury as well. One of the subjects that is certain to come up as a new
administration thinks about its relations with China will be Taiwan.
Taiwan is also important in its own right. It is among the 25 largest economies in the world, bigger than
Saudi Arabia, South Africa, Egypt, Israel, Singapore or Malaysia, to name a few. And it has also
become one of the most successful new democracies in the world after a peaceful transition from
dictatorship in the late 1980s and early ’90s.
Yet, neither the new president nor his secretary of state nor many other senior U.S. officials will visit
Taiwan, for one simple reason: Since the U.S. recognition of the People’s Republic of China in 1979,
U.S. relations with Taiwan have been “unofficial.” These unofficial relations have included very close
commercial, cultural and even security relations, including political contacts at lower levels, particularly
through the American Institute in Taiwan in Taipei and the Taipei Economic and Cultural
Representative Office in Washington. This is, to say the least, an unusual way to manage relations
with an entity as important as Taiwan, but it has worked remarkably well over a period of almost three
decades, although the unofficial relationship should be deepened.
Some officials in the new U.S. administration – like some of their predecessors – will likely view this
important but unofficial relationship as burdensome and wish that it would go away, particularly after
they receive the usual litany of complaints from Chinese diplomats. But the issue of Taiwan is not
going to go away, and American officials and diplomats should recognize that the relationship with
Taiwan provides not only challenges but enormous opportunities.
Taiwan has the misfortune of being strategically located. Being strategically located means having
difficult – or at least powerful – neighbors. It is much more comfortable to be located in a quiet
neighborhood. But it is our good fortune that Taiwan, though it is so close to China, has managed in
the last 40 years to become not only a spectacular economic success story but a kind of political
miracle as well.
Taiwan’s spectacular economic progress over the last half century has not only brought prosperity for
the people of Taiwan but has had an influence far beyond that island. Although the scale of mainland
China’s economic success in the last 25 years has overshadowed Taiwan’s, Taiwan’s progress – and
that of Asia’s other “little tigers,” South Korea, Hong Kong and Singapore – started much earlier and
indeed helped to inspire economic reforms on the mainland. When Chinese decision-makers could
see that people with similar cultural heritages and, in the cases of South Korea and Singapore, similar
tragic histories of colonial occupation and Japanese invasion could succeed economically, they were
forced to confront the fact that China’s continued poverty was the result of its radical collectivist
policies.
This empowered Deng Xiaoping to undertake the historic economic reforms that have transformed
China and have enabled hundreds of millions of Chinese to escape poverty. Taiwanese entrepreneurs
directly contributed to China’s success by bringing investments and know-how to the mainland. And
China’s success, in turn, has inspired reforms in India and other developing countries that are now
considered “emerging markets” rather than “less developed countries.”
More recently, in a quieter and more subtle, but no less important, fashion, Taiwan has undergone a
political transformation that may eventually have an equally broad influence. With the death of its last
dictatorial president, Chiang Ching-kuo – who in fact prepared the way – Taiwan underwent a peaceful
democratic transition. The recent election of President Ma Ying-jeou marks the fourth successive
democratic election of Taiwan’s president, and the second time the opposition party has won the
elections. It is a demonstration that Taiwan’s democratic institutions are achieving real solidity and
maturity.
These developments have not gone unobserved on the mainland. During the vote counting in
Taiwan’s most recent election, mainland Chinese were reportedly glued to their televisions and one
mainland commentator said “We are all Taiwanese now.” This intense interest arises partly because
relations with the mainland were one of the central issues in Taiwan’s presidential campaign. But the
fact that such a critical foreign-policy issue could be debated openly and resolved in a democratic
fashion must have made an impression – even among those who argue that democracy is somehow
alien to Chinese (or Asian) values and culture.
Taiwan’s democratic transition has not only benefited the people of Taiwan; it has also been a critical
element in generating American support for Taiwan. When the democratic transition began in Taiwan,
there was a significant and positive change in the attitudes of members of Congress and the American
public more broadly. American support for Taiwan no longer rested on outdated attachments going
back to Chiang Kai-shek but on the fact that Taiwan’s freedom was empowering its people to make
extraordinary political as well as economic progress. It is important to pass that message to the
Obama administration. The people of Taiwan are working on one of history’s great experiments of
building a democratic country in a Chinese culture, and the U.S. should do everything it possibly can
to support that.
Following Taiwan’s presidential elections this spring, there has been another new and important
development. Taiwan’s new President Ma Ying-jeou has moved quickly to improve relations with the
mainland, including opening up direct flights between China and Taiwan for the first time, opening
Taiwan to mainland tourists, and easing restrictions on Taiwan investment on the mainland. Improved
relations with the mainland not only reduce the chances of conflict, but it also strengthens the U.S.Taiwan relationship. This is particularly important with a new U.S. administration and a new team of
policy makers about to come into office.
Over the past several years, the Bush administration has felt that Taiwan created unnecessary
problems, which adversely affected U.S. dealings with Taipei. It is in Taiwan’s interest to continue
reducing cross-Strait tensions – not only as a worthy goal of itself, but because it strengthens Taiwan’s
position in Washington and strengthens the U.S. commitment to Taiwan’s security.
That commitment is as important as ever, particularly since the warming of cross-Strait relations has
so far not led to any reduction in the build-up of Chinese military forces, including hundreds of surface
to surface missiles, threatening Taiwan. The recent approval of a substantial package of arms sales to
Taiwan is valuable for the military capability that it will bring and equally for the signal that it sends to
both sides of U.S. commitment to Taiwan’s security. Unfortunately, the Bush administration has left the
issue of Taiwan’s request for F-16s – which Taiwan needs to maintain the capability of its air defenses
– to the next administration.
While preserving peace in the Taiwan Strait must be a paramount objective for any U.S.
administration, it is also important for the Obama team to recognize that reducing tensions is only part
of the answer. The U.S. must remain firmly opposed both to the use or threat of force by China and to
any attempt by Taiwan to declare de jure independence. This requires patience and perseverance,
and firmness in the face of Chinese objections to the sale even of defensive arms to Taiwan. This is
the best way to preserve peace and to provide the people and government of Taiwan with the
confidence that they need to be able to continue to seek improved relations with the mainland.
Hopefully, the Obama administration will give President Ma the support he has earned by his bold
efforts to improve cross-Strait relations.
It would also help if the P.R.C. would be more responsive to Taiwan’s desire for greater international
space. But the people of Taiwan also should recognize that participation in multilateral organizations –
as reasonable as it is for them to seek it – is far less valuable than attracting tourists and
businesspeople to Taiwan. And that strategy doesn’t require the P.R.C.’s approval.
To that end, Taiwan might consider setting for itself the ambition of becoming the most businessfriendly place in Asia. After all, Taiwan has abundant competitive advantages to build on – it is a
democracy, it has freedom, it has increasing openness and transparency, it has strong intellectual
property protection. If Taipei set about removing obstacles to doing business, Taiwan could become a
particularly attractive investment destination – particularly for American companies wanting to take
advantage of the opportunities presented by improved cross-Strait relations.
This may seem too ambitious a task at a time when Taiwan, like the rest of Asia, is coming face-toface with a serious global recession. But boldness will help Taiwan to emerge more quickly from the
current downturn.
The Ma administration should try to move swiftly to clean up the Taiwan regulatory morass and
improve the investment climate. Reform of the Taiwan economy will have a positive impact on the
economic welfare of Taiwan citizens, as well as on attracting foreign investments.
Taiwan’s energy market is just one example of a sector needing reform. Foreign investors do not look
favorably on an environment where there are major questions about the reliability and diversity of
electricity supply. Sectors like energy are going to require a significant reduction in the heavy hand of
the state.
A second example is the restrictions on technology investments in China. While the Ma administration
has moved forward to modernize its semiconductor investment guidelines, Taipei still needs to move
away from restrictions that are focused on outdated technology and base future investment guidelines
on an efficient export control regime.
A third example concerns the Agreement on Government Procurement under the WTO. Taiwan’s
participation in that agreement at the earliest possible date is likely to make execution of a number of
initiatives more successful, including the i-Taiwan initiative. There are some challenges in shepherding
Taiwan’s accession, but the Taiwan government should place a high priority on this effort so that
Taiwan can accede as soon as possible.
Also in the area of trade, a fourth example concerns an FTA with the U.S. The atmosphere in the
United States for any further free trade agreements is bleak and it is likely that the American elections
will produce a Congress that is even less friendly to free trade agreements than the present one. While
Taiwan should continue to advocate for an FTA, Taipei should also work on advancing the Trade and
Investment Framework Agreement, and try to resolve outstanding trade issues – including those
surrounding American beef.
Perhaps the most important thing Taiwan could do to become more competitive is tax reform.
President Ma seems to understand the importance of reducing Taiwan’s tax burden, even despite – or
perhaps because of – the slowdown in the global economy. Recently his administration proposed cuts
in the inheritance tax that should encourage savings and investment, as well as an increase in the
standard deduction on personal income taxes that will help ordinary taxpayers. Another thing his
administration could do would be to reduce Taiwan’s corporate income tax rate; at 25% it is twice the
rate of Ireland, a small island on the other side of the world which managed to make itself a financial
center for Europe.
Taiwan is an incredible success story, and the more exposure the world has to that story, the more
people will come to understand the uniqueness and importance of Taiwan. It is a form of security
expenditure to educate the world about the Taiwan economic and democratic miracle. The effort to
educate opinion makers – including Americans of all kinds, congressional staff, academics and
business people – about Taiwan seems to be bearing fruit, as the Taiwan story that basically sells
itself once it is told. It is also a way to create more international space for Taiwan in an informal way.
Taiwan continues to face challenges ahead, but there is no doubt that the people of Taiwan will
continue to turn challenges into opportunities as they have done for several decades.
Paul Wolfowitz is chairman of the U.S.-Taiwan Business Council.
http://www.feer.com
November 2007
The Father of Taiwanese Identity
by Hugo Restall
There are no paparazzi visible on the hillside above Lee Teng-huis home in the Shihlin suburb of
Taipei, but his aide points out where they stake out the house with their long lenses. While the former
president is officially retired"two golf bags stand ready by the carport"he remains a political force to be
reckoned with. Expelled from the Kuomintang party he once led, Mr. Lee is now the "spiritual leader"
of a small party, the Taiwan Solidarity Union, and he is still jockeying to expand its influence.
Dressed casually in a windbreaker, Mr. Lee is waiting in his living room, still looking younger than his
84 years. Japanese-style green tea and cakes are served, and Mr. Lee reveals that the cakes are from
the Yasukuni Shrine in Tokyo. He traveled to Japan for 11 days in May to accept a prize named after
Shinpei Goto, a colonial administrator in Taiwan in the early 20th century, and while there he paid his
respects at Yasukuni, where Japanese honor their war dead and the names of the militarist leaders
who were executed for war crimes are also enshrined.
That visit stirred outrage in China, since anti-Japanese sentiment runs high and a key point of
contention with former Prime Minister Yasuhiro Koizumi was his custom of visiting Yasukuni. As Mr.
Lee returned home, a Chinese man threw a bottle at him in Tokyo airport. Discussing the shrine is the
only time he becomes visibly agitated. "Why should they oppose it," he complains. "My brother was
killed during World War II in the Philippines [while serving in the Japanese navy]. I dont even know
where he is buried. My father wouldnt believe that he was dead. So why is it bad if I go to Tokyo?"
Mr. Lee also defends the right of Japanese politicians to pay their respects at the shrine. "Chinese
people need to change their thinking. In any country, you should honor those who sacrificed their lives
for the nation. Japanese are the same."
That puts Mr. Lee at the far end of the spectrum of opinion even among Japanese; the emperor has
refused to visit since the names of the war criminals were added. Moreover, many Chinese will never
understand why Mr. Lee sees Yasukuni as the proper place to remember his fallen brother.
That requires delving into the complex history of the island that gives it an identity unique from
mainland China. Not only was Japanese rule relatively benevolent there, in contrast to China, Korea
and elsewhere, but after the war a new occupying force, the KMT under the leadership of Chiang Kaishek, brutalized Taiwan. Hence many native Taiwanese share Mr. Lees strong affinity for Japan and
Japanese culture.
Indeed the process of talking with Mr. Lee peels back the many components of Taiwans identity like
an onion. We start out in English, then switch to mandarin Chinese with bits of Taiwanese dialect
thrown in, then to Japanese, and back to Mandarin. Mr. Lee gets into full flow in Japanese, while in
Mandarin and English, his third and fourth languages, the thoughts flow more haltingly. Occasionally
an aide steps in to translate a concept from Japanese into Mandarin.
Discussing the trip to Japan sends Mr. Lee off on a long meditation on Gotos role in developing
Taiwans economic institutions, while he faced a comparable challenge in building democratic
institutions. An extraordinary leader who later became mayor of Tokyo among many other roles, Goto
clearly was much more of an inspiration to the president than his KMT predecessors.
Mr. Lee is best known for being the first Taiwanese-born KMT leader of Taiwan and the first
democratically elected president. But another aspect of his legacy is coming to the fore today"his
efforts to forge a new Taiwanese identity. By starting the process of revamping Taiwanese education
to do away the mainlander mythology of a unified China, he set the stage for a cultural change that is
irreversible. Even though economic, cultural and personal ties with China continue to grow, the
citizens of the Republic of China increasingly identify themselves as Taiwanese, not Chinese.
There were two aspects to Mr. Lees effort: emphasizing Taiwans differences from mainland China,
and healing the rift between native Taiwanese and the "mainlanders" who came to the island with
Generalissimo Chiang in 1949. While in office, Mr. Lee pushed the idea of "new Taiwanese," which
included both groups.
But under the current administration, inclusiveness has given way to renewed tensions, as President
Chen Shui-bian has sought to drive a wedge between the two groups in order to gain electoral
advantage over the KMT. He has also stirred up tension with China in order to drive up support for his
Democratic Progressive Party. Neither of these sit well with the former president.
When pressed on why Taiwans chaotic democracy hasnt matured faster, he points to the lack of
leadership to create a democratic culture. Getting the mechanics of voting in place is relatively easy.
But there is no democracy without a change of mentality.
For instance, take Malaysia and Singapore. "They cannot give up Asian values. They vote for a prime
minister, but he is thinking, I am an emperor. I can control everything. All the national power, money,
assets, belong to him." That condemns them to the endless cycle of dynastic politics.
Taiwan seemed to be progressing out of this cycle, but since 2000, it has stopped, and is even
regressing. "Now on every matter, the president will express a view. This is not the way of democracy,
the president cannot run everything. It is very similar to the Chiang Kai-shek era."
Mr. Lee expresses disgust with President Chens high-profile campaign to mobilize public support for
joining the United Nations. The current administration may have managed to get the whole body politic
dancing to the same tune. But it has no positive effect on the citizens of Taiwan. "After everybody
votes for it, what then? What is the next step? What is Taiwans hope?" The summary rejection of
Taiwans application by U.N. Secretary-General Ban Ki-moon was actually a blessing in disguise,
because it spared Taiwan yet another humiliation in the General Assembly.
The president does have a responsibility to expand Taiwans international space, but this requires
diplomatic skill, not just posturing. Taiwans economic prowess is a key tool, and the process of
globalization naturally increases the opportunities for Taiwan to have its voice heard. Empty posturing,
though, will only backfire and hurt Taiwans interests.
So does Taiwan need to declare independence? Mr. Lee leaves open the door. "Taiwans legal status
is still very ambiguous," he says, and this is something the mainland has acknowledged in the past.
"But how to solve the problem? It seems to me this is the more important mission of the president,
working step by step to solve this problem."
Hu Jintaos relatively conciliatory words at the Chinese Communist Party Congress in Beijing a few
days earlier do not impress him, because Chinas offers of talks are still predicated on the "one China"
principle.
But in all the discussion of the "1992 consensus," what is overlooked is that it was his 1991 decision to
end the state of civil war, recognize the jurisdiction of the Peoples Republic over the mainland, and
establish principles to govern any process of unification that made the cross-Strait talks possible. If the
mainland is not prepared to do the same and recognize the R.O.C.s jurisdiction over Taiwan and deal
with it on a basis of equality, there is no way to recreate the basis for the 1992 talks.
As president, Mr. Lee tried to slow the flow of Taiwanese investment into the mainland, so that the
island would not become too dependent, and also prevent the migration of the islands best technology
across the Strait. So he has been dismayed by the Chen administrations failure to continue this policy,
and promote the development of strategic industries.
The future of the Taiwan Solidarity Union is unclear. After the 2000 election, Mr. Lee became a
staunch supporter of newly elected President Chen Shui-bian and the cause of national
independence. But in the past year, he has begun to tack back toward a more moderate position. In
part that may reflect Mr. Chens unpopularity. But observers also note that with his NGO work
particularly in the field of education Mr. Lee has his finger on the pulse of public opinion. Given Mr.
Lees acumen, its safe to assume he has gauged that the public mood has turned against needless
confrontation with the mainland.
That doesnt mean Mr. Lee is ready to go back into the KMT fold. He refuses to be drawn on his
opinion of the partys candidate for the presidency in 2008, Ma Ying-jeou, but some of his recent
remarks suggest that he thinks Mr. Ma is too compliant toward China and might sell out the island. In
other words, Mr. Ma is too closely tied to the old mainlander wing of the party.
This distancing from both the major parties may signal a new direction for the TSU, which recently
purged two members regarded as leaning toward President Chens DPP. So far the main cleavage in
Taiwanese politics has been between the "green" DPP, which is left-leaning, pro-independence and
represents the interests of native Taiwanese, and the "blue" KMT, which is more conservative,
conciliatory toward China and represents the interests of mainlanders and the more cosmopolitan
urban Taiwanese. Some have suggested that if the KMT could shed its mainlander historical baggage
and hidebound leadership, it could easily come out on top. That is, there is a large niche for a
conservative green party that is not being filled. If the KMT cant move into this space, perhaps Mr.
Lees TSU will.
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Is Aso the LDP’s Last Ditch Leader?
by Tobias Harris, October 3, 2008
Taro Aso, the great-great grandson of a founding father of modern Japan and grandson of a founding
father of the postwar system, has been elected president of the ruling Liberal Democratic Party and
the prime minister of Japan. The LDP has embraced Mr. Aso as a savior in the midst of what former
Prime Minister Yasuo Fukuda called the party’s worst crisis since its formation. The LDP is heavily
divided in Tokyo, uncertain about the legacy of former Prime Minister Junichiro Koizumi. It has
alienated its traditional supporters, who see the party as insensitive to their economic insecurities,
especially their concerns about the health and pensions systems. The opposition Democratic Party of
Japan exploited the grievances of these LDP supporters to win control of the Diet’s upper house in
2007, and is trying to do so again to seize control of the lower house and form a government.
Mr. Aso has been given the task of finding a way through this mess and leading the LDP to victory in
the next general election. The bulk of the LDP’s members hope that his popularity will save them from
electoral defeat. The party elders hope that he will repair the party’s battered image, which has been
damaged by public perceptions of insensitivity to the plight of the people. The LDP’s conservatives see
him as their chance to reclaim what they lost when Shinzo Abe resigned; Mr. Aso, they hope, can
once again take a hard line on North Korea, pressure China on its human rights violations, its tainted
products, and its military modernization, and resume the normalization of Japanese national security
policy, all while working with the United States and other Asian democracies to build an “arc of
freedom and prosperity.” And the LDP’s rank-and-file members hope that he will actually address the
economic problems that threaten their wellbeing.
With this coalition behind him, it is little surprise that Mr. Aso won so handily in the Sept. 22 LDP
presidential election. He received all but seven of the 141 votes of the party’s prefectural chapters,
which determine how they vote on the basis of a popular vote of LDP supporters. He received 217 of
386 votes of the LDP members in the upper and lower houses of the Diet. In his fourth bid for power,
he finally succeeded, with a landslide. But the seeds of his success – the LDP’s existential crisis –
may also be his undoing.
Notably absent from Mr. Aso’s electoral coalition and his newly appointed cabinet is the LDP’s reform
wing, the followers of Mr. Koizumi. They remain popular, particularly in urban Japan, but the LDP has
abandoned them. They in turn see Mr. Aso as little better than the old LDP that Mr. Koizumi worked to
destroy. Hidenao Nakagawa, leader of the reform wing following Mr. Koizumi’s withdrawal and the
titular head of the Machimura faction, the LDP’s largest, did everything in his power to support Yuriko
Koike, the candidate endorsed by Mr. Koizumi in the party election.
He even risked a split in the faction by pushing for Ms. Koike, a member of the Machimura faction,
despite the de facto faction chief and former Prime Minister Yoshiro Mori’s decision to endorse Mr.
Aso. Ms. Koike was an inadequate standard bearer, lacking the support of the grass roots and the
party establishment enjoyed by Mr. Aso. She did not even have all of the reformists behind her, as
Nobuteru Ishihara also ran as a reformist. Her defeat shows, however, that there is little place left in
the LDP for Mr. Koizumi’s followers. Mr. Aso did invite Ms. Koike to join his cabinet – Ms. Koike
declined, citing irreconcilable policy differences – but that offer was likely made with the knowledge
that there is no place for her and her views in an Aso cabinet.
The reformers, already in retreat under Mr. Abe and Mr. Fukuda, may now be wholly alienated from
the party. And Mr. Koizumi’s decision – announced on the Aso cabinet’s first day of business – to
retire at the next election may be the catalyst that serves to sever their last remaining ties to a party
that has made it clear that they are unwelcome in its ranks.
In short, the party that Mr. Aso has inherited may not survive through a general election. It is Mr. Aso’s
party now. It appears that under Mr. Aso’s watch the LDP could become a rump conservative party,
stripped of its reformers and reduced to an alliance of nationalist hawks and party stalwarts who want
to return to the days of pork and patronage, less of a big tent and more conservative than ever.
Arguably, Mr. Aso has had one consistent goal through his long pursuit of the premiership. Like his
ancestors, he wants Japan to be capable of flexing its muscles globally. He wants Japanese to be
proud of being Japanese. He wants them to see Japan as he sees it: as an “awesome” country, with a
long, proud history and a number of qualities that make it a world leader. He wants – borrowing a term
from his grandfather Shigeru Yoshida – “Japan’s latent power” (nihon no sokodikara) to materialize. As
he wrote in his 2006 book about Mr. Yoshida, “Isn’t Japan leading the world in many areas? Even as I
write mottainai [an aversion to wastefulness], energy conservation, widespread education, number one
in cleanliness, number one in industriousness, number one in health, a society with a high level of
middle-class identification, non-ideological thinking, and so on come to mind.”
In this sense, Mr. Aso differs from Mr. Abe, who could barely conceal his loathing for Japan as it is; his
“beautiful country, Japan” existed only in the future, once Japan had, in his words, “cast off the
postwar system.” Mr. Aso has made clear that he recognizes Mr. Abe’s failures, which he believes
stem in part from his insensitivity to the concerns of Japanese voters. Mr. Abe was interested in the
trappings of great power – troop reviews and high summitry – but forgot the lesson of both the Meiji
and the early postwar elites: that great-power status is rooted in a robust domestic economy. Mr. Aso
seems to have absorbed the lesson, and aspires to a fuller, more responsive conservatism that
reflects the connection between the domestic economy and international status.
He elaborated his thinking in an article in the March 2008 issue of Chuo Koron, a center-right journal.
In this article, Mr. Aso explicitly breaks with Mr. Abe. After praising Mr. Abe’s work “pioneering
constitution revision, education reform, and a resolute foreign and defense policy,” Mr. Aso condemns
him for failing to address mounting economic problems, in effect making Japanese conservatism
irrelevant to the lives of Japanese citizens, writing: “I think that if we do not embrace our former LDP
mainstream’s ‘politics of tolerance and patience,’ if we do not stop growing inequality, and if we do not
work together for an economic policy that unifies Japanese society, ours will not become a
conservatism that opens the way to the future.”
He does not reject Mr. Abe’s policies, he rejects his priorities. To that end, he used his March article –
and another article in the conservative journal Voice – to fill in the sizeable gaps in the Abe agenda.
He outlined a plan to restore confidence in the pensions system and finance it with a consumption-tax
hike, despite past opposition to any consumption tax increases. He urged businesses to boost
consumption by raising wages, and to reverse the trend of using contract employees. He also called
for radical decentralization that would move most revenue to prefectural governments, leaving a “small
but strong” central government whose main responsibility would be foreign and security policy.
In addressing the stagnation of regions outside Japan’s urban core, Mr. Aso was responding to the
challenge posed by the DPJ’s gains in traditional LDP “kingdoms.” In the aftermath of his 2007 defeat,
Mr. Aso took a page from Mr. Ozawa’s campaign strategy, vacating the Diet to travel Japan to speak
with voters about their concerns and hopefully bolster popular support for another run at the LDP
presidency. He followed his tour with the aforementioned articles, which were matched by his
courtship of LDP leaders, most notably Mr. Mori, who endorsed Mr. Aso two weeks before Mr.
Fukuda’s resignation. It was this three-pronged approach – campaigning at the grass roots, lobbying
LDP elders, and shoring up his policy credentials – that won Mr. Aso the premiership.
But it may all be for naught. The political situation may be beyond the control of even the popular Mr.
Aso. He comes into office on a wave of bad economic news. In the midst of the LDP campaign, the
Cabinet Office revised Japan’s second quarter growth figures downward, to a 0.7% quarterly drop (3%
annualized). For three straight months the consumer confidence index has reached new all-time lows.
Bankruptcies are near all-time highs. Inflation is up, and rising food and energy costs have become a
major political issue. This is occurring at the same time the U.S. financial system and the global
financial system teeter on the brink of collapse.
It is unclear whether Mr. Aso is capable of overcoming the worsening economy. He has embraced the
economic stimulus package devised in Mr. Fukuda’s last month in office, but that plan seems less
likely to stimulate consumer demand than to offer inducements to traditional LDP supporters – most
notably small- and medium-sized businesses – to vote for the LDP in the next election. His selection of
Shoichi Nakagawa, his leading conservative ally, as finance minister casts doubt on his ability to
manage the economy. In appointing Mr. Nakagawa, Mr. Aso has opted for loyalty over competence as
there is little sign that Mr. Nakagawa has the acumen for the job.
Mr. Aso seems better on social security and health care, the issues that are of greatest concern to
Japanese voters. He has criticized the new eldercare system for citizens over the age of 75 years,
which was rolled out in April to much criticism and has cost the LDP several elections since. He has
suggested that wholesale reform might be necessary, but there are signs that he is backing down from
this position. Similarly, his bold plans for social security seem to have been shelved for the time being.
Mr. Aso’s ideas for restructuring the Japanese economy for the 21st century are bold, but these grand
schemes are useless unless the government can overcome immediate difficulties. In dealing with the
faltering economy, Mr. Aso appears to be out of his depth. He has tossed fiscal retrenchment
overboard – ensuring that Japan will have a harder time shrinking its national debt – for the sake of a
stimulus that may not accomplish its stated aim. The public will have little tolerance for Mr. Aso’s
rhetoric about the wellsprings of Japan’s greatness if he is unable to do something about the
deepening economic crisis.
It is little surprise that initial public opinion polls show that the Aso cabinet has failed to break the 50%
threshold in public approval, which even Mr. Fukuda broke. Public tolerance for inaction is gone. The
Japanese want the government to act quickly and effectively after years of dithering. It is the LDP that
has long wielded power, and it is the LDP that has failed to fix its mistakes. The reality is that Mr. Aso
may have climbed to the height of power only to find that he is to preside over the LDP’s funeral. He
may have only a handful of weeks to deliver something concrete to the public. When a general
election comes, which by Mr. Aso’s own reckoning may be as early as November, he will have to
convince voters that while the LDP may have failed to execute effective responses to policy failures in
the past, under his leadership the LDP will succeed.
His only asset is his undeniable popularity, rooted in his folksy charm, and his penchant for straight
talk (which occasionally gets him into trouble). Known as the favorite politician of Akihabara, Tokyo’s
“electric town” and a center of youth culture, Mr. Aso’s interest in manga and otaku culture has
strengthened his claim to be a maverick outsider despite his ultimate insider status. But Mr. Aso’s
quirks cannot save the LDP. If he fails to respond convincingly to the sources of public insecurity, his
popularity will be irrelevant, and the LDP will be defeated.
Tobias Harris is the author of the Observing Japan blog and a doctoral candidate at MIT.
http://www.feer.com
A Chance to Build on Taiwan's Progress
by Paul Wolfowitz , November 7, 2008
Relations with the People’s Republic of China will inevitably be one of the top foreign-policy concerns
of the next U.S. administration, and not only for President Barack Obama and his secretary of state,
but for the secretary of the treasury as well. One of the subjects that is certain to come up as a new
administration thinks about its relations with China will be Taiwan.
Taiwan is also important in its own right. It is among the 25 largest economies in the world, bigger than
Saudi Arabia, South Africa, Egypt, Israel, Singapore or Malaysia, to name a few. And it has also
become one of the most successful new democracies in the world after a peaceful transition from
dictatorship in the late 1980s and early ’90s.
Yet, neither the new president nor his secretary of state nor many other senior U.S. officials will visit
Taiwan, for one simple reason: Since the U.S. recognition of the People’s Republic of China in 1979,
U.S. relations with Taiwan have been “unofficial.” These unofficial relations have included very close
commercial, cultural and even security relations, including political contacts at lower levels, particularly
through the American Institute in Taiwan in Taipei and the Taipei Economic and Cultural
Representative Office in Washington. This is, to say the least, an unusual way to manage relations
with an entity as important as Taiwan, but it has worked remarkably well over a period of almost three
decades, although the unofficial relationship should be deepened.
Some officials in the new U.S. administration – like some of their predecessors – will likely view this
important but unofficial relationship as burdensome and wish that it would go away, particularly after
they receive the usual litany of complaints from Chinese diplomats. But the issue of Taiwan is not
going to go away, and American officials and diplomats should recognize that the relationship with
Taiwan provides not only challenges but enormous opportunities.
Taiwan has the misfortune of being strategically located. Being strategically located means having
difficult – or at least powerful – neighbors. It is much more comfortable to be located in a quiet
neighborhood. But it is our good fortune that Taiwan, though it is so close to China, has managed in
the last 40 years to become not only a spectacular economic success story but a kind of political
miracle as well.
Taiwan’s spectacular economic progress over the last half century has not only brought prosperity for
the people of Taiwan but has had an influence far beyond that island. Although the scale of mainland
China’s economic success in the last 25 years has overshadowed Taiwan’s, Taiwan’s progress – and
that of Asia’s other “little tigers,” South Korea, Hong Kong and Singapore – started much earlier and
indeed helped to inspire economic reforms on the mainland. When Chinese decision-makers could
see that people with similar cultural heritages and, in the cases of South Korea and Singapore, similar
tragic histories of colonial occupation and Japanese invasion could succeed economically, they were
forced to confront the fact that China’s continued poverty was the result of its radical collectivist
policies.
This empowered Deng Xiaoping to undertake the historic economic reforms that have transformed
China and have enabled hundreds of millions of Chinese to escape poverty. Taiwanese entrepreneurs
directly contributed to China’s success by bringing investments and know-how to the mainland. And
China’s success, in turn, has inspired reforms in India and other developing countries that are now
considered “emerging markets” rather than “less developed countries.”
More recently, in a quieter and more subtle, but no less important, fashion, Taiwan has undergone a
political transformation that may eventually have an equally broad influence. With the death of its last
dictatorial president, Chiang Ching-kuo – who in fact prepared the way – Taiwan underwent a peaceful
democratic transition. The recent election of President Ma Ying-jeou marks the fourth successive
democratic election of Taiwan’s president, and the second time the opposition party has won the
elections. It is a demonstration that Taiwan’s democratic institutions are achieving real solidity and
maturity.
These developments have not gone unobserved on the mainland. During the vote counting in
Taiwan’s most recent election, mainland Chinese were reportedly glued to their televisions and one
mainland commentator said “We are all Taiwanese now.” This intense interest arises partly because
relations with the mainland were one of the central issues in Taiwan’s presidential campaign. But the
fact that such a critical foreign-policy issue could be debated openly and resolved in a democratic
fashion must have made an impression – even among those who argue that democracy is somehow
alien to Chinese (or Asian) values and culture.
Taiwan’s democratic transition has not only benefited the people of Taiwan; it has also been a critical
element in generating American support for Taiwan. When the democratic transition began in Taiwan,
there was a significant and positive change in the attitudes of members of Congress and the American
public more broadly. American support for Taiwan no longer rested on outdated attachments going
back to Chiang Kai-shek but on the fact that Taiwan’s freedom was empowering its people to make
extraordinary political as well as economic progress. It is important to pass that message to the
Obama administration. The people of Taiwan are working on one of history’s great experiments of
building a democratic country in a Chinese culture, and the U.S. should do everything it possibly can
to support that.
Following Taiwan’s presidential elections this spring, there has been another new and important
development. Taiwan’s new President Ma Ying-jeou has moved quickly to improve relations with the
mainland, including opening up direct flights between China and Taiwan for the first time, opening
Taiwan to mainland tourists, and easing restrictions on Taiwan investment on the mainland. Improved
relations with the mainland not only reduce the chances of conflict, but it also strengthens the U.S.Taiwan relationship. This is particularly important with a new U.S. administration and a new team of
policy makers about to come into office.
Over the past several years, the Bush administration has felt that Taiwan created unnecessary
problems, which adversely affected U.S. dealings with Taipei. It is in Taiwan’s interest to continue
reducing cross-Strait tensions – not only as a worthy goal of itself, but because it strengthens Taiwan’s
position in Washington and strengthens the U.S. commitment to Taiwan’s security.
That commitment is as important as ever, particularly since the warming of cross-Strait relations has
so far not led to any reduction in the build-up of Chinese military forces, including hundreds of surface
to surface missiles, threatening Taiwan. The recent approval of a substantial package of arms sales to
Taiwan is valuable for the military capability that it will bring and equally for the signal that it sends to
both sides of U.S. commitment to Taiwan’s security. Unfortunately, the Bush administration has left the
issue of Taiwan’s request for F-16s – which Taiwan needs to maintain the capability of its air defenses
– to the next administration.
While preserving peace in the Taiwan Strait must be a paramount objective for any U.S.
administration, it is also important for the Obama team to recognize that reducing tensions is only part
of the answer. The U.S. must remain firmly opposed both to the use or threat of force by China and to
any attempt by Taiwan to declare de jure independence. This requires patience and perseverance,
and firmness in the face of Chinese objections to the sale even of defensive arms to Taiwan. This is
the best way to preserve peace and to provide the people and government of Taiwan with the
confidence that they need to be able to continue to seek improved relations with the mainland.
Hopefully, the Obama administration will give President Ma the support he has earned by his bold
efforts to improve cross-Strait relations.
It would also help if the P.R.C. would be more responsive to Taiwan’s desire for greater international
space. But the people of Taiwan also should recognize that participation in multilateral organizations –
as reasonable as it is for them to seek it – is far less valuable than attracting tourists and
businesspeople to Taiwan. And that strategy doesn’t require the P.R.C.’s approval.
To that end, Taiwan might consider setting for itself the ambition of becoming the most businessfriendly place in Asia. After all, Taiwan has abundant competitive advantages to build on – it is a
democracy, it has freedom, it has increasing openness and transparency, it has strong intellectual
property protection. If Taipei set about removing obstacles to doing business, Taiwan could become a
particularly attractive investment destination – particularly for American companies wanting to take
advantage of the opportunities presented by improved cross-Strait relations.
This may seem too ambitious a task at a time when Taiwan, like the rest of Asia, is coming face-toface with a serious global recession. But boldness will help Taiwan to emerge more quickly from the
current downturn.
The Ma administration should try to move swiftly to clean up the Taiwan regulatory morass and
improve the investment climate. Reform of the Taiwan economy will have a positive impact on the
economic welfare of Taiwan citizens, as well as on attracting foreign investments.
Taiwan’s energy market is just one example of a sector needing reform. Foreign investors do not look
favorably on an environment where there are major questions about the reliability and diversity of
electricity supply. Sectors like energy are going to require a significant reduction in the heavy hand of
the state.
A second example is the restrictions on technology investments in China. While the Ma administration
has moved forward to modernize its semiconductor investment guidelines, Taipei still needs to move
away from restrictions that are focused on outdated technology and base future investment guidelines
on an efficient export control regime.
A third example concerns the Agreement on Government Procurement under the WTO. Taiwan’s
participation in that agreement at the earliest possible date is likely to make execution of a number of
initiatives more successful, including the i-Taiwan initiative. There are some challenges in shepherding
Taiwan’s accession, but the Taiwan government should place a high priority on this effort so that
Taiwan can accede as soon as possible.
Also in the area of trade, a fourth example concerns an FTA with the U.S. The atmosphere in the
United States for any further free trade agreements is bleak and it is likely that the American elections
will produce a Congress that is even less friendly to free trade agreements than the present one. While
Taiwan should continue to advocate for an FTA, Taipei should also work on advancing the Trade and
Investment Framework Agreement, and try to resolve outstanding trade issues – including those
surrounding American beef.
Perhaps the most important thing Taiwan could do to become more competitive is tax reform.
President Ma seems to understand the importance of reducing Taiwan’s tax burden, even despite – or
perhaps because of – the slowdown in the global economy. Recently his administration proposed cuts
in the inheritance tax that should encourage savings and investment, as well as an increase in the
standard deduction on personal income taxes that will help ordinary taxpayers. Another thing his
administration could do would be to reduce Taiwan’s corporate income tax rate; at 25% it is twice the
rate of Ireland, a small island on the other side of the world which managed to make itself a financial
center for Europe.
Taiwan is an incredible success story, and the more exposure the world has to that story, the more
people will come to understand the uniqueness and importance of Taiwan. It is a form of security
expenditure to educate the world about the Taiwan economic and democratic miracle. The effort to
educate opinion makers – including Americans of all kinds, congressional staff, academics and
business people – about Taiwan seems to be bearing fruit, as the Taiwan story that basically sells
itself once it is told. It is also a way to create more international space for Taiwan in an informal way.
Taiwan continues to face challenges ahead, but there is no doubt that the people of Taiwan will
continue to turn challenges into opportunities as they have done for several decades.
Paul Wolfowitz is chairman of the U.S.-Taiwan Business Council.
http://www.feer.com
Will Japan Go Nuclear?
by Robyn Lim, October 22, 2008
Now that the Bush administration has removed North Korea from the State Department’s list of states
that sponsor terrorism, the regime in Pyongyang has resumed dismantling the nuclear reactor at
Yongbyon. But there is no reason to celebrate. To the contrary, this could be a large step towards
Japan’s concluding that it needs nuclear weapons for its security.
The public face of Japan’s anger is that Bush allowed North Korea to backtrack on commitments to
investigate the fate of Japanese abducted by North Korea two decades ago. But Japan also feels
betrayed on issues vital to its nuclear security.
Japan is furious because the Bush administration, in its dying days, has done exactly what it accused
the Clintonites of doing – rewarding North Korea for bad behavior. Why? Because the North Koreans
are masters of brinkmanship, blackmail and extortion. They have exploited Bush’s need for a foreign
policy “legacy."
The North Koreans held a gun to President Bush’s head by threatening to test another nuclear
weapon. They have also been making preparations for another round of missile tests, knowing that
U.S. surveillance satellites were watching. Nice work for a small country with a near-collapsed
economy. Even more so because the health of the Dear Leader Kim Jong Il is doubtful, and the
succession is not secure.
We have seen this movie before. North Korea has just “sold” its nuclear reactor at Yongbyon for the
third time since 1994, and for an even higher price. In return for the usual promises that North Korea
will dismantle Yongbyon, the United States will provide even more fuel aid than under the 1994 and
2007 agreements.
With North Korea now removed from the State department’s list of states that sponsor terrorism, it will
be eligible for direct U.S. aid, as well as international loans and other benefits. The United States also
expects Japan to help pay for this new agreement.
But Japan is balking. Indeed, it has reason to fear that the North Koreans, once they have pocketed
these concessions, will present other demands. These might include a “nonaggression pact” with
America and a “peace treaty” that will include the removal of remaining U.S. forces from South Korea.
And what of America’s previous insistence that North Korean “denuclearization” be complete,
verifiable and irreversible? Gone, but covered by a fig leaf. North Korea will not be required to own up
to its uranium-enrichment program, hidden underground. Nor will it be required to give up the six to a
dozen nuclear weapons that it has already built. And North Korea won’t be held to account for its
proliferation of fissile material to places such as Syria and Iran.
Indeed, since the early 1990s, North Korea has cooperated with Iran both in missile development and
clandestine nuclear programs. Last year, Israeli aircraft destroyed a replica of the Yongbyon nuclear
reactor in Syria, built with North Korean and Iranian help. But the Bush administration, in the interests
of securing a “breakthrough” with North Korea, has been very quiet about Syria.
As if all this were not bad enough, Japan has reason to fear that collaboration with Iran has helped
North Korea with warhead design. North Korea is now believed to be capable of mounting nuclear
warheads on its Nodong missiles that target nearly all of Japan. Japan also has reason to worry that
the United States has not been honest with Japan on this matter.
Indeed, three years ago, Admiral Jacoby, then director of the U.S. Defense Intelligence Agency, said
that he believed North Korea could weaponize a missile. Of course, Admiral Jacoby did not volunteer
this assessment. Rather, he said it during a hearing of the Senate Armed Services Committee under
questioning by Senator Hilary Clinton. The reaction of the Bush administration, typically, was to
discredit Admiral Jacoby. But no doubt the Japanese did not forget, and have recently been
comparing notes with Israel about North Korea’s proliferation activities with Iran and Syria.
Americans might think that Japan has no reason to think that the U.S. “nuclear umbrella” might leak.
After all, during the Cold War, Japan was targeted by many more (and more accurate) Soviet missiles
than is the case now. But at that time, Japan had no reason to worry. That was because the “glue” that
held the U.S.-Japan alliance together was fixed enmity between the U.S. and the USSR. The
Japanese knew that without access to bases in Japan, America could not target the vulnerable Soviet
Far East, and thus credibly threaten Moscow that war in the West would also mean war in the East.
Thus Japan had enormous leverage on its alliance.
But Japan has not been able to count unreservedly on America since 1971, when Nixon forged his de
facto alliance with China without informing Japan in advance. And now with the Cold War over, some
of the “glue” in the U.S.-Japan alliance has dissolved.
Moreover, Japan’s worries about its nuclear security are not confined to North Korea. China also
targets Japan with nuclear weapons. Indeed, Japan is starting to build military capabilities against
China, but without needing to say so – the palpable North Korean threat is ample public justification.
The U.S. and China may not be friends, but they are not enemies either. So will the U.S. extended
deterrence “work” in a strategic environment very different from that of the Cold War?
Japan has always kept its nuclear options open, as indeed it must when it lives in such a dangerous
region. Trust is always in short supply when it comes to nuclear weapons. The United States hopes
that Japan will remain content to rely on the U.S. nuclear umbrella and missile defense. But will it,
when President Bush has just betrayed Japan on a vital issue of nuclear security? So will George W.
Bush’s legacy in East Asia turn out to be a nuclear Japan?
Robyn Lim is adjunct professor in the Department of Political Science and International Affairs,
University of Queensland.
http://www.feer.com
The Elephant and the Dragon: The Rise of India and China and What It Means for All of Us
by Robyn Meredith
W.W. Norton & Company, 272 pages, $25.95
June 1, 2007
Reviewed by David Plott
Asia is no stranger to economic miracles–witness the success of Japan, South Korea, Taiwan and
Southeast Asia. But the near simultaneous emergence of China and India onto the world stage
represents a "tectonic economic shift" that promises to alter the way global business and geopolitics
are conducted for years to come.
This is the focus of Robyn Meredith's The Elephant and the Dragon, one of the best books available
about the economic changes underway in both countries. A veteran reporter for Forbes magazine, Ms.
Meredith brings to the subject deep experience and knowledge of both countries, and a gift for
synthesizing a vast array of data in an accessible and lively way, and discerning underlying trends.
This a behemoth of a subject, so the book's brevity comes as a pleasant surprise for the reader, and is
a tribute to the author's discipline in distilling her arguments. She blends history, vivid anecdotes,
personal experience, economic analysis and even occasional bursts of ideological exhortation to
produce a work that leaves the reader with a comprehensive understanding of the essence of the
transformations in India (the elephant) and China (the dragon).
Ms. Meredith opens by evoking what is almost a cliche in discussions about the two countries–the
contrast between the visible grandeur of China's ultramodern infrastructure and India's potholed
streets and crumbling airports.
But these stark differences are raised in order to reassess their supposed significance. While India
indeed remains woefully behind China in investing in infrastructure, its path to economic reform has
tapped other sources of strength. As China pursued a path to becoming a manufacturing giant by
harnessing its ability to mobilize capital and labor, India–hobbled by horribly inefficient government–
had to rely on its tremendous pool of highly educated knowledge workers. It is a case, she says, of
brawn versus brains. To be sure, she underscores the need for India to invest substantially more in its
roads, airports, ports and railways in order to build its own manufacturing capabilities. Meanwhile
China will need to accelerate its efforts to rise above basic manufacturing as a source of future growth.
But Ms. Meredith is careful not to overplay the differences between these two Asian giants–a tendency
that leads some observers to cheerlead for one country over the other–because one of her central
arguments is that the rise of China and India complement each other. The way the two are beginning
to work together promises to reshape global business.
Modern manufacturing has shifted away from Henry Ford's assembly-line model to one where a
product is now manufactured in different stages in dozens of different countries. Ms. Meredith refers to
this outgrowth of globalization as "the disassembly line." As she vividly illustrates in one example,
something as simple as an Eileen Fisher linen sweater passes across the globe as it moves from raw
flax to finished product.
"Those swank sweaters will have journeyed from France to China to the United States via one boat,
five trucks, three factories, and an airplane on an odyssey now common for products found in
American shopping malls." This is a process that Victor Fung, chairman of Hong Kong-based Li &
Fung, has called "the atomization of the supply chain."
Ms. Meredith argues, "India and China form complementary links, rather than competing links, in many
companies' disassembly lines. Using the two developing nations together is a powerful, almost
irresistible tool for Western companies trying to ratchet down their costs and speed up production
cycles."
Despite the alarm that China and India often cause in the West–particularly in America–because of
lost manufacturing jobs and offshored white-collar jobs, Ms. Meredith argues that it is American and
European companies that have most benefited from the rise of both countries. "Made in China" often
really means "Made by America in China" or "Made by Europe in China." Consumers in America and
Europe also benefit from lower cost goods produced in China.
India and China are not just changing the face of manufacturing, they are also redefining consumer
markets, because of the large number of low-income earners in both countries. Traditional consumer
marketing by multinational companies has always targeted the top 20% of income earners. But Ms.
Meredith predicts that India and China are about to change that.
"The vast majority of the money in the Indian market is at the bottom of the income pyramid," she
writes. "Because each is growing about three times as fast as the United States and Japan and far
faster than Europe, India and China represent the unavoidable future for companies around the
world."
Despite the sometimes breathless appreciation Ms. Meredith expresses for the changes taking place
in India and China, she is no rosy-eyed evangelist for their economic reforms. She devotes
considerable space to describing the social, environmental, political and geopolitical risks associated
with the changes. The results is a balanced and engaging appraisal of what has been accomplished,
and what remains to be done.
Ms. Meredith is most passionate, though, at the end of her book, where she exhorts Americans (who
seem to be the primary audience of her work) to invest more in education and infrastructure, and to
save more, in order to reinvent themselves to face the challenge of India and China. "Let the rise of
India and China be a catalyst to reestablish America's competitiveness. Let it be this generation's
space race. If inward-facing India and communist China can transform themselves and face the world,
so can the United States of America," she concludes.
Mr. Plott, a former editor of the REVIEW, is managing editor of Global Asia and deputy director of the
Journalism and Media Studies Centre at the University of Hong Kong.
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Perfect Hostage: A Life of Aung San Suu Kyi
by Justin Wintle
Hutchinson and Random House, 450 pages, 11.99
Reviewed by Bertil Lintner
She has been likened to Nelson Mandela, Martin Luther King, even Mahatma Gandhi, whose
philosophy of nonviolence she has espoused. Burma's pro-democracy icon Aung San Suu Kyi–often
referred to just as "the Lady"–may be incarcerated but she remains a symbol of defiance and moral
strength, and as such has attracted sympathy and support not only inside her country but from all over
the world. The world's most famous political prisoner, in 1991 she received the Nobel Peace Prize.
She has received myriad additional recognition: In 1992, UNESCO awarded her the International Simn
Bolivar Prize. The following year, the Center for Human Rights and Constitutional Law in Los Angeles
named her the recipient of its Victor Jara International Human Rights award, and, in December 1994,
the Forum of Democratic Leaders in the Asia Pacific made her an honorary adviser to its board–and
all this while she was still under house arrest.
She seems to be above criticism, a saint-like figure who can do nothing wrong. Justin Wintle's
potentially controversial biography of her, therefore, is very much needed and welcome. He no doubt
admires her and her courage, but, at the same time, writes that not every criticism leveled at Ms. Suu
Kyi should be ignored, "otherwise any concern for Burma becomes a Stalinist parody of democracy."
Mr. Wintle takes Ms. Suu Kyi to task for supporting Western economic sanctions and boycotts, which
he argues "have helped drive the regime deeper into the embrace of China." He criticizes the Burma
Campaign U.K. for blacklisting the Lonely Planet's guide to Burma and argues that tourists should visit
the country "in the millions." The United States' and the European Union's policy of denying places at
their universities and colleges to the children of regime members is counterproductive, he states,
arguing that it is "surely much better to give the grandsons and granddaughters of [Burmese junta
leader] General Than Shwe and his ilk a decent liberal education than to see them packed off to
Beijing."
STEPHANE PERAY
Mr. Wintle's biography is well-researched and covers, in great detail, Ms. Suu Kyi's childhood in Burma
and her years in India, Britain, Japan and Bhutan. He was fortunate in being given privileged access to
an unpublished biography of Daw Khin Kyi, Ms. Suu Kyi's mother, written by her during the period of
her first house arrest 1989-95. But it is perhaps a bit unfair to highlight the fact that Ms. Suu Kyi was
not a particularly successful academic. She may have got only a third-class degree from St. Hugh's
College Oxford–and her friends might have expected her to do much better–but is that really relevant
to her role in Burma's pro-democracy movement?
It is also unfortunate that Mr. Wintle repeats two myths spread by the junta and its sympathizers. One
is that Burma's first, 1947, constitution included a clause "prohibiting anyone married to a foreigner
from becoming Burma's president," Mr. Wintle writes. The other is what was actually elected in May
1990. While acknowledging the NLD's landslide election victory, Mr. Wintle states, incorrectly, that,
"Even Khin Nyunt's pre-election assertions, that the contest was the choose members of a Constituent
Assembly, not a parliament, now appeared to be a dead letter."
In fact, Khin Nyunt had said before foreign military attaches in Rangoon on Sept. 22, 1988, "Elections
will be held as soon as law and order has been restored and the Defense Services would then
systematically hand over power to the party which wins." He didn't say a word about the need for a
new constitution. And on May 31, 1989–a year before the election–the junta promulgated a pyithu
hluttaw election law. A pyithu hluttaw in Burmese is a "people's assembly," i.e., a parliament, not a
constituent assembly, which is a thaing pyi pyu hluttaw–a term never used before the 1990 election.
That a constituent assembly, not a parliament, had been elected was first stated by Khin Nyunt in a
speech on July 27, 1989–two months after the election.
In the end, the elected assembly turned out to be not even a thaing pyi pyu hluttaw. About 100 of the
485 elected members of parliament (of whom 392 were National League for Democracy candidates)
were to sit in a "National Convention" together with 600 other, nonelected representatives who had
been hand-picked by the military. No Burmese citizen expected that to happen when they went to the
polls in May 1990. The junta had just not expected the NLD to win, so the rules had to be changed
after the election.
As for the president's spouse, the 1947 constitution does not mention who the president could or could
not be married to. A person would not be qualified for election to parliament if he or she "is under any
acknowledgement of allegiance or adherence to a foreign power, or is a subject or a citizen entitled to
the rights and privileges of a subject or a citizen of a foreign power." Ms. Suu Kyi's marriage to Michael
Aris, a British citizen, gave her the right to reside in Britain, but certainly no other special rights or
privileges. If the law were meant to prohibit the president from having a foreign spouse, the old dictator
Ne Win would have had to resign when he, in 1976, married June Rose Bellamy, also a British citizen.
Another myth repeated by Mr. Wintle is that Ms. Suu Kyi's son, Alexander Aris, who accepted the
1991 Nobel Peace Prize on behalf of his mother "halted" in his speech in Oslo City Hall because "still
a teenager, he had neither the opportunity nor the inclination to develop himself as a public speaker,"
and that he read "a text his father had helped him prepare." This reviewer was present at the
ceremony in Oslo in 1991, and was as stunned as everyone was how eloquent the young Mr. Aris–
then only 18–was, and, according to his father, the speech was not written by him. There were
standing ovations after the speech, and some of the Norwegian hosts told me that it was one of the
best speeches they had ever heard at a Nobel Peace Prize ceremony.
Despite such shortcomings, this book is definitely worth reading. It has a very comprehensive index,
but it badly needs footnotes, because it is obvious that much of the account of the events of the
turmoil of 1988-89 comes from other, written sources, as does the historical background material.
Besides, the very long history chapters actually do not offer any new perspectives or insights; they
simply repeat what has been written elsewhere.
Rather than scrutinizing Ms. Suu Kyi's academic credentials, it would have been a better idea to more
thoroughly analyze her transformation from an effective mass mobilizer to somewhat of a Buddhist
mystic. Mr. Wintle does touch on that subject, but only superficially and almost in passing. He quotes a
Burmese activist in exile, who listened to her speeches in Burma in 1988 and 1989, as saying that she
"spoke elegantly but simply, so that everyone could understand exactly what she meant." He also
quotes an old friend of hers from Oxford days as saying that she was never especially religious,
"rather, Buddhism was there as part of her cultural baggage."
Under her first spell of house arrest, however, she took to meditating and began reading books on
Buddhism. She emerged from house arrest in 1995, and again in 2002, with a highly spiritual
approach to politics and social development, a major departure from her earlier writings and speeches,
which had been far more down-to-earth and worldly. That is a major reason why, for instance, many
foreign businessmen, politicians and statesmen find it difficult to relate to her. She may be a saint, but
she is not a shrewd politician. That also seems to be the main message of this book, which is bound to
create a fierce debate not only about Ms. Suu Kyi's personality and role in Burmese politics, but also
how the outside world should approach the seemingly never-ending Burmese imbroglio.
Mr. Lintner is a journalist based in Thailand. For an excerpt of this book please click here.
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Power and Pork: a Japanese Political Life
by Aurelia George Mulgan
Asia Pacific Press, 284 pages, $30
Reviewed by Tobias Harris
On May 28, 2007, Toshikatsu Matsuoka, minister of agriculture, forestry, and fisheries in Prime
Minister Shinzo Abe's cabinet, was found dead in his apartment, reportedly the result of suicide by
hanging. Matsuoka's death is a grim end to a scandal that has dogged the Abe cabinet throughout the
current session of the Japanese Diet–and an equally grim end to a career marked by corruption and
the improper use of the powers of his office.
As the Diet considered controversial legislation on education and a national referendum system for
constitution revision, critics accused Matsuoka of misusing political funds by claiming some 30 million
yen (just under $250,000) in lighting, heating, and water expenses for a rent- and utilities-free office at
the Diet Members' Office Building. More recently, in late May, Matsuoka was accused of having
received 13 million yen in donations from construction companies that had received contracts from
MAFF's Japan Green Resources Agency. Matsuoka adamantly rejected charges of impropriety,
providing elaborately contrived explanations for the exorbitant expenses charged to a fully subsidized
office; he had yet to face questioning for the latter charges.
Fortuitously, Matsuoka is the subject of Aurelia George Mulgan's Power and Pork, in which she shows
that Matsuoka was the archetypal Japanese pork-barrel politician, using his power to direct public
funds to his home district and interfere with policy making in the MAFF as a member of the Liberal
Democratic Party's norin zoku, or agricultural policy "tribe."
His elevation to the cabinet by Mr. Abe was an all-too-painful reminder of how little Japan has
changed, despite the end in the early 1990s of the "1955 system"–the arrangement by which the LDP
governed Japan in collusion with bureaucrats and interest groups during the Cold War–and former
Prime Minister Junichiro Koizumi's attempts at revolutionary political and economic reform.
But Ms. Mulgan is less concerned with grand theory than with illustrating the behavior of an LDP
backbencher in the tumultuous years following the bursting of the economic bubble. She describes in
lavish detail how Matsuoka, elected in 1990, struggled to rise to the top of the political system, despite
not having the advantage of an inherited seat or a degree from Tokyo University's Law Faculty. From
the moment he arrived in Nagatacho, the epicenter of Japanese political life, he aggressively sought
senior positions in the LDP and the government, using these positions to channel public funds to his
(largely rural) constituency and interfere with policy making, especially agricultural and forestry policy.
Forging contacts with MAFF bureaucrats and joining the LDP Policy Affairs Research Council
committees on agriculture and construction, he was able to present himself to his constituents as a
defender of their interests and to lay a foundation for membership in the norin zoku. While dabbling in
other policy areas, his primary focus had been agriculture, and the longer he served, the greater the
power he gathered, rising to senior party and junior cabinet posts extraordinarily quickly.
These positions enabled him to "intervene" in the policy-making process by pressuring MAFF
bureaucrats and lobbying within the LDP and the Diet, and to "interfere" with policy by acting as "a
broker or mediator" for individuals, localities, and corporations. The latter were the means by which
Matsuoka channeled (or denied) funds to support agriculture and public works in specific districts.
Rising to senior offices also improved Matsuoka's ability to draw funds for his political support groups
from corporations, leading him to continue to use his clout to benefit supporters, constituting what Ms.
Mulgan calls "borderline bribery" that was "institutionalized in his political organization."
In his path to power, however, Matsuoka rarely let principle interfere with political survival. Power was
an end in itself. While he was undoubtedly a reactionary conservative–and a fierce protectionist on
agriculture policy–he was reluctant to take risks for his beliefs. For example, although he was a major
opponent of Mr. Koizumi–whose calls to "destroy the LDP" were aimed at politicians like Matsuoka–in
the early years of the Koizumi Cabinet, he lost his seat to a pro-Koizumi independent in 2003, staying
in the Diet only by virtue of election via proportional representation. He subsequently became a major
supporter of postal privatization, and in 2005 won back his old seat with Mr. Koizumi's backing.
Brought back into the fold, Matsuoka was well placed to join the Abe cabinet in September 2006.
Matsuoka's defiance of critics and reformers seeking to cleanse the political system of pork-barrel
politics showed that Japan is still subject to the pathologies of the 1955 system. The reason for this, as
suggested by Ms. Mulgan, is the incredible power wielded by individual LDP backbenchers through
the LDP's policy organs. To this day, individual politicians are relatively strong and political parties are
relatively weak. Japanese politicians–while dependent on their parties for positions of authority that
enable them to deliver tangible benefits to their constituents–are independent as far as building local
support, fund raising, and policy positions are concerned. As Matsuoka's activities on behalf of
Japanese agriculture show, he was able to use his power not only within Japan, delivering public
funds to private interests, but also outside Japan, intervening in trade negotiations by trying to
convince wto officials and trade representatives of other wto members that Japanese agriculture is
unique and deserving of special protection.
As a result of activities like Matsuoka's the Japanese Diet has been rendered largely incapable of
deliberating on the problems that have beset Japan during its "lost decade" following the bubble burst,
problems that will continue to multiply as Japan's population ages and shrinks, and as the Asia-Pacific
region is transformed by the emergence of China. Although the LDP's brief spell in the political
wilderness was supposed to have meant the end of the redistributive excesses of the 1955 system,
the reality, following the LDP's return to power in 1994, albeit in coalitions emerged as a third force in
policy making after 1993, the strengthening of the prime minister's position should not be exaggerated;
the same perversions of policy resulting from competition among autonomous backbenchers in the
LDP have persisted.
As long as politicians have little need to turn to the party, political reform–in the shape of a political
system characterized by clashes in the Diet between two major, cohesive, programmatic parties on
questions of Japan's public interests–will be impossible. It is for this reason that Mr. Koizumi's
revolution failed, because for all his efforts to enforce party discipline, most notably on postal
privatization, Mr. Koizumi was unable to overcome the root of the problem: the strength of individual
politicians. This strength leads them to distort policy on behalf of their constituents and financial
backers, and to value faction and policy tribe above party. If Mr. Koizumi was unable to reform the
LDP–even with a strong tailwind–it is unlikely that any LDP president will be able to succeed on this
front, Mr. Abe included.
Mr. Abe has, in fact, made clear his lack of commitment to Mr. Koizumi's reform ideas, particularly by
readmitting LDP members ousted for their opposition to postal privatization. The broad thrust of Mr.
Abe's agenda has sent a clear signal that, unlike his predecessor, he does not believe that the LDP
needs to be "destroyed" as a means of creating a more dynamic political system. His emphasis on
abandoning Japan's "postwar regime"–namely the postwar constitution and the 1947 Fundamental
Law on Education–show that he is more interested in symbolic victories to please the LDP's
conservatives than in tackling the genuine structural deficiencies of the postwar regime.
Arguably Japan's contemporary problems have little or nothing to do with the constitution, and
everything to do with a broken policy-making system that has enabled LDP members like Matsuoka to
distort public policy to private ends. Without concerted effort on the part of the government,
Matsuoka's passing will not mark the end of the system that he exploited with great success.
That said, political change may be inevitable in the long run. The rising generation of politicians, who
have entered politics since the breakdown of the 1955 system, are more international and oriented to
policy making based on Japan's national interests. Moreover, demographic change, with cities growing
at the expense of depopulating and aging rural areas, means that the LDP's base in rural Japan is
shrinking.
But Japan cannot afford to wait for change to happen naturally. Today's problems are too urgent. If
Japan waits, it will find itself buried under the liabilities associated with an aging, shrinking population;
an education system unable to prepare Japanese children for life in a more globalized economy; and a
budget bloated with side payments to interest groups to buy their acceptance of the piecemeal
reforms. The result: a Japan whose influence in the region will be virtually nonexistent, dwarfed by that
of China, India and perhaps a reunified Korea. As Mr. Koizumi might have said, quoting Elvis Presley,
"It's now or never."
Mr. Harris is a secretary on the staff of an opposition member of Japan's House of Councillors and the
author of Observing Japan, a web log. The views expressed here are his own.
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The Indians: Portrait of a People
by Sudhir Kakar and Katharina Kakar
Penguin Books India, 232 pages, Rs. 395
Reviewed by Dinesh Sharma
India's pathway through economic liberalization has been startling. Beginning in the 1990s, its growth
rate has leapfrogged most developed economies. Following on the heels of the "tiger" economies,
India has broken its dependence on four decades of socialist policies. India's pathway may be that of a
lumbering elephant strapped down by lots of excess baggage, whom many wise observers are trying
to grab hold of but none can fully grasp. One thing is clear: The Indian elephant has been awakened
from its slumber with the information and communication revolution, which is expanding the middle
class and even reaching the rural masses. Mahatma Gandhi minted a pinch of salt as an act of
freedom in the well known Salt March, mobilizing the country against a British salt tax. Today, as every
other Indian is carrying a cell phone and many Indian-owned companies are going public on the New
York Stock Exchange, we are witnessing a transnational movement of Indian people engaged in the
process of globalization to better their lives and the world.
In the minds of many observers, India's rise has come to personify something larger than itself, a
David and Goliath story stretching well beyond its national borders, encompassing the hopes and
aspirations of other similar nations. Amidst the great pronouncements and the economic or policy
discussions, there is a danger that we may loose sight of the very people whose lives we are trying to
affect. Instead of lifting all the boats, the looming economic tide may simply deluge them and toss
them ashore.
Within this context, The Indians: Portrait of a People is somewhat sobering yet puzzling. Against the
litany of books extolling India's rise, authors Sudhir Kakar and Katharina Kakar use their 30 years of
research to paint a synchronic portrait of Indian people, while barely mentioning the forces of
liberalization and globalization gripping India today. This book consists of a big picture meta-narrative
that may be received with reflexive hostility by postmodernists. Using evidence from a wide array of
disciplines, Mr. and Ms. Kakar display an encyclopedic and deep understanding of the Indian social
reality; their "way of looking at things" is surpassed by none. The book covers almost everything under
the sun: the Hindu world view; caste and hierarchy; family dynamics and authority relations; love,
marriage and womanhood; ancient and contemporary sexuality; health, healing and mortality; and
ethnic and religious conflict.
The view presented here is clearly Hindu, subsuming all other cultural and regional voices within the
bulwark of Sanskritization, the ancient process of cultural assimilation that incorporates the upward
mobility of the lower castes into the upper castes, as described by the sociologist M. N. Srinivas.
Borrowing from Wittgenstein's theory of family resemblances, the Kakars suggest that ethnic, regional
and rural variations hide a deeper affinity among groups within the Hindu "cultural gene pool"; for
children of the same progenitor do not look the same, they share a family resemblance. This has also
been the mantra of the political right, the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh and the Sangha Parivar,
promoting Hindu nationalism and integral humanism. The idea of family resemblances resonates with
the notion of the Hindu joint family, the paradigmatic Hindu institution that has been in disrepair of late;
the ideology of the joint family living and the practice may be fading, but the longing for it still lingers in
every Indian's mind.
Along with the family, caste structure forms a large shadow on Indian culture. Despite the successive
waves of colonization (e.g., Mughals, British) and the onslaught of modernity, the legacy of "the
hierarchical man" has not been dislodged in Indian culture. As described by the French sociologist
Dumont and a cadre of Indian sociologists that followed, the Kakars believe that the ideology of caste
hierarchy, significantly modified by the legal restrictions in the public domain, is still the stuff of
contemporary life. The restricted rate of intercaste and interreligious marriages though allowed by law
would tend to support this view. The authors present recently gathered evidence that shows Indian
CEO's to be the highest in power distance and humane orientation compared to other societies,
describing the traditional authority figure as hierarchical yet benevolent.
While individualism may be on the rise, it is neither the "rugged individualism" of the American West
nor the egalite ou la mort of the French. Indian individualism is softer, relational and familial, less
centered on the ego and more concentric around the group obligations. Within the web of family
connections, we also get a glimpse of the modern Indian MAA, clad in a white sari, hard at meeting
her maternal responsibilities while making forays into the professional arena. While in middle class
homes girls are equal to boys in many respects, in rural areas the practice of son-preference is very
much in tact, gender discrimination is the norm, and caste still trumps womanhood.
Midway through the book, the Kakars take the reader on a tour of the classical Indic civilization, trying
to disentangle the Gordian knots of repressed Indian sexuality. Like the travelers in E.M. Forster's
Passage to India, they are puzzled at the highly charged cave and temple imagery decorated with
elaborate sexual positions, juxtaposed with a puritanical Indian stance towards everyday sexuality.
The authors locate the cultural sublimation en masse in Hindu mystical asceticism, elaborated in the
detailed yogic manuals and practiced by millions across the subcontinent.
Central to the notion of the Hindu body is the conservation and transfer of semen from the lower
realms of sexuality to the higher aims of spiritual development. Gandhi practiced this principle
throughout his life as a karma-yogi. As a reified folk theory passed on from one generation to the next,
this has ramifications throughout the Hindu life-cycle, according to which boys and girls are socialized
to refrain from sex except for the purposes of procreation. However, the recent trends may suggest
that teenagers are waking up from their sexual slumber at a much earlier age, where premarital sex is
more frequently reported than might be expected, sending a panic wave among the educators,
women's groups and the government alike.
The last few chapters take on a somewhat inner-worldly turn, trying to explain the emergence of the
"flexible Hindu" against the onslaught of the nationalists and the traditionalists. The center of gravity of
the Indian mind is still transfixed on the Hindu trinity: moksha, dharma and karma (salvation, duty and
action). Has the quickening of modernity changed the inner world? According to the Kakars, the
configuration of the psychological change is at best minimal. Westernization is for the most part
nothing but window-dressing. The flexible Hindu flirts with most of the Western comforts and lifestyles,
while maintaining significant contributions to the local temples and satsang; his materialism is
spiritually motivated. The flexible Hindu wants to buy the latest Japanese or German luxury car, but
not without consulting the astrologers, conducting auspicious car-puja and bestowing a miniaturized
Ganesha on the dash board. As an it expert described to me, the average Indian wants "packet
technology" they can hold in their hand without too much disruption in their daily lives, exemplified by
the handheld digital devices and cell phones.
What about the "new caste" of nonresident or global Indians (sometimes called the "nonreliable"
Indians), whom the Indian government has termed parvasi bhartiyas and whose contributions are
gradually expanding the notion of Indian-ness from without? These casts of characters are not part of
this book. Historically, the parvasi bhartiyas have included the early founders of the country, especially
Gandhi and Nehru, whose views on India were acutely informed by their sojourns away from
matrbhoomi, like the lone travelers in V.S. Naipaul's fictions. The aura of postliberalization India seems
to present a different dazzle to Indian culture. Similarly, the new caste of global Indians seems to
inhabit a different taste and sensibility, not unlike the urbane moviegoers who attend Meera Nair's
films on the opening night.
The question then remains: Will the Indian population be able to sustain the pattern of strong growth it
has generated throughout the 1990s and uplift one-sixth of world's humanity? How will this shape
Indian identity and culture? While The Indians does not directly delve into the recent wave of
technological and economic innovations, it goes a long way towards exploring the different points of
tension within the Indian family, culture and society, and anticipates some of the social changes
seeping through the crevices of the Indian social structure. This book is important for those who are
just waking up to the India's economic juggernaut.
Mr. Sharma is senior associate at the Institute for International and Cross-Cultural Research at St.
Francis College in New York.
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China: Fragile Superpower: How China's Internal Politics Could Derail Its Peaceful Rise
by Susan Shirk
Oxford University Press, 336 pages, $27
Reviewed by Hugo Restall
Susan Shirk was U.S. deputy assistant secretary of state with responsibility for East Asia during one of
the most fraught episodes in Sino-American relations, the U.S. bombing of the Chinese Embassy in
Belgrade in May 2000. Trying to convince Chinese counterparts that the bombing was accidental, she
found they were determined to disbelieve her explanations. In the ensuing protests across China,
angry students damaged the American Embassy in Beijing and destroyed the consul general's
residence in Chengdu.
Yet in Ms. Shirk's analysis of China's foreign policy neither this incident, nor the 2001 collision of an
American electronic surveillance plane with a Chinese fighter, rings the loudest alarms. Rather it is the
April 2005 protests against Japan that, for her, illustrate the most dangerous pressures that lie
beneath the surface of China's "peaceful rise." The suffering of the Chinese people under Japanese
occupation remains an unhealed wound, making the relationship with Japan an explosive issue.
The origins of the 2005 protests are murky, and some observers believe the government deliberately
encouraged them. Ms. Shirk can't disprove this definitively, but she leads the reader to the opposite
conclusion: Chinese leaders are riding the tiger of nationalist sentiment, not leading it by the nose.
That is, while sometimes they seek to harness it for their own purposes, more often they are hanging
on for dear life. Protests need to be stopped because they can too easily turn into a threat to the
regime, but shutting them down too quickly can also be counterproductive. In her view, the mechanics
of this balancing act sometimes are misread by observers as orchestration.
The "fragile superpower" of the title is not on the brink of collapse, but its new-found strength coupled
with unresolved domestic tensions could prove self-defeating. Many of China's policies and
propaganda messages are predicated on a position of weakness. Deng Xiaoping's famous dictum
taoguang yanghui–"hide our capacities and bide our time"–still largely guides his successors. The
media and school textbooks seethe with resentment at the Western powers and Japan. What happens
when China no longer has to bide its time?
Understandably, this question inspires fear in many capitals. The risk is that the stronger China gets,
the more its neighbors will band together against it. Beijing is responding with a push to better manage
outside perceptions, and Ms. Shirk praises the new breed of diplomats in the Ministry of Foreign
Affairs' Asia Department. Even in the People's Liberation Army, some younger officers get it. She
quotes a colonel:
We are learning that we have to do a better job of explaining China to foreigners. We can't just show
the good things, we have to show the not-so-good as well, to let people decide for themselves. It's like
when you serve a meal to people. You can't tell them before they eat it how delicious it is.
As Ms. Shirk traces, China's strategy of making nice with the neighbors has already paid dividends in
Southeast Asia. Beijing embraced the role of multilateral organizations and settled most of its border
disputes. As a result, it is now viewed favorably in the region, perhaps even more favorably than the
U.S., a huge change from just a decade ago.
However, Taiwan and Japan remain wild cards. In the past, Beijing played up moves toward
Taiwanese independence or resurgent Japanese nationalism when it suited the leadership's purposes.
Now it is a prisoner of its past positions, but now longer controls the flow of news. A more commercial
media pounces on any scrap of information on these topics, the more inflammatory the better, and
instantly a clamor arises in the Internet chatrooms for the authorities to respond forcefully. Taiwan's
President Chen Shui-bian has learned to play this to his own advantage, provoking Beijing and then
using the response to drive voters into the arms of his pro-independence party.
Ms. Shirk poses an interesting question: "Is virtual activism a substitute or a prelude to the real thing?"
Seventy pages later, she answers, "The nationwide demonstrations of spring 2005 proved, however,
that virtual activism mobilizes actual activism instead of dampening it."
The selective nature of censorship is partly to blame. There is a perception that viewpoints that are not
forbidden are endorsed by the authorities. Staking out a stronger position than the government is one
of the few ways of voicing more general discontent. The 2005 incidents showed that control over
information, while reasonably strong in normal times, breaks down in a crisis. Hence protests against
Japan can quickly burst out of control.
In every country domestic politics is the key to understanding foreign policy, but in China the dynamic
is especially important. Ms. Shirk makes a couple of references to the movie Wag the Dog, which is a
tad ironic coming from a Clinton appointee. But the analogy is apt. The regime as a whole can't afford
to look weak on Taiwan or Japan–if Taiwan declared de jure independence and the mainland didn't
strike, the top leaders would be replaced by ambitious underlings or by revolution within months. A
corollary is that in a crisis each individual leader has an incentive to posture as tougher than the rest.
As a result, moderate solutions can be found only if all the leaders are convinced to sign on.
The greatest danger comes from a leadership split that spills out into the public sphere. In 1989,
Communist Party General Secretary Zhao Ziyang sided with the student protesters against most of his
colleagues. This encouraged the students to remain in Tiananmen Square and contributed to Deng
Xiaoping's decision to use deadly force.
Ms. Shirk discerns signs of a nascent split in 2005 over the anti-Japan protests. Later that year, Vice
Premier Wu Yi, sent on a fence-mending visit to Japan, took umbrage at Prime Minister Junichiro
Koizumi's comments about the Yasukuni Shrine and against orders headed home. Naturally she got
plenty of credit among ordinary Chinese.
Ms. Shirk portrays the post-Deng leadership as generally weak and paranoid, and former Party
General Secretary Jiang Zemin as impatient and arrogant. On a 1998 state visit to Tokyo he
demanded an apology for war atrocities at the last minute; the Japanese refused, realizing that Mr.
Jiang would not agree to settle historical issues in return, and relations were poisoned for several
years. Then he overreached for a dramatic breakthrough with Taiwan and was rebuffed, a setback that
put Beijing's hardliners in the driving seat on Taiwan policy. Perhaps as a result of a personal animus
against Japan, Mr. Jiang approved a patriotic education program that dialed up public resentment over
the war history.
Under Mr. Jiang, China also performed badly at crisis management. For instance, after the 2001 plane
collision the Propaganda Department quickly locked the government into the mistaken positions that
the U.S. plane was responsible and that it had been in Chinese airspace. These errors inflamed public
opinion and made reaching an amicable solution much more difficult.
So will Mr. Hu do any better? The leadership consensus in favor of economic reforms looks shakier
than it has been for 15 years. Public discontent over the distribution of wealth is rising. The temptation
to fall back on nationalism to shore up the regime's legitimacy will be strong. Yet so far Mr. Hu seems
to be managing these pressures. The rapprochement with Japan after Shinzo Abe became prime
minister is certainly encouraging.
Ms. Shirk offers a range of worthy recommendations for China to reduce the risks of conflict. More
controversial are her recommendations for the U.S., which include pushing the goals of
democratization and promotion of human rights to a distant second behind changing China's
international behavior. She praises the Bush administration's efforts to rein in Chen Shui-bian, but
criticizes its efforts to push Japan to rearm and embrace collective defense.
The latter raises the question of causation. Yes, it may appear to some Chinese that the U.S. is no
longer the "cork in the bottle," preventing a resurgence of Japanese militarism. But remember that
Washington has long wanted Japan to assume more of the burden of its own defense, while Tokyo
has been happy to get a free ride. Now China's own anti-Japanese rhetoric has inspired the Japanese
to think seriously about defense. If Beijing is unhappy with this, it has only itself to blame.
Despite the inevitable bumps in the road, the prospects for U.S.-China relations remain quite good in
Ms. Shirk's view. The U.S. needs to consider how it can help prevent conflict between China and
Japan, and here the outlook is darker. As a PLA colonel told Ms. Shirk:
The Foreign Ministry and the Party leaders want to change public opinion about Japan, and leave
history behind, but it is too late. We should have tried to change public opinion ten years ago when the
Party could still control information. We can't do it now.
Mr. Restall is the editor of the REVIEW. For an excerpt of the book please click here.
http://www.feer.com
Confucianism + Capitalism = Economic Development
by William Ratliff, December 21, 2007
Development banks, think tanks and other researchers have increasingly compared reforms in East
and Southeast Asia with Latin America, almost always noting the far greater successes of the former.
But few of these studies ask the basic question, “Why?”
The discrepancy between the regions is particularly clear in education, where international testing
finds Asia's tigers and dragons consistently at or near the top and those few Latin countries that dare
to participate just as consistently near or at the bottom.
An excellent new book on universities in Asia and Latin America entitled “World Class Worldwide”
(Johns Hopkins Press) clearly shows that South Korea and China are not only making far greater
progress in higher education reform than Brazil, Mexico, Chile and Argentina, but that despite its
current emergence India's challenges are often more like those of Latin America than East Asia.
A 2007 World Bank study reported that between 1960 and the early 2000s the percentage of adults
who completed high school in Latin America increased from 7% to 18% while in East Asia the increase
during that period was from 11% to 44%. A key conclusion of a 2006 World Bank study of secondary
education in the two areas was that “education systems can address both quality and access issues
from early on [as in South Korea] if good education is highly valued by the state and families alike.”
Yes, as it is in Korea and China, but not, with the same commitment, in India or Latin America. Why?
Above all it is the legacy of traditional cultures. The seeming secret ingredient in all Asian states that
most excel today in education and development generally is Confucian tradition. The profound,
lingering, largely positive legacy of Confucian culture is not always consciously present, but it is there
among leaders and people and guides goals and actions in ways that are rarely equaled in Latin
America or India. Key aspects are the belief that: (1) education is the expressway to success; (2) goals
should be far higher than mere survival and pursued with single-minded diligence and a relentless
work ethic; (3) merit should be sought and rewarded; and (4) frugality and focus must guide the
expenditure of funds and energies.
Traditionally Confucianism had profound limitations, but the above qualities applied in current
conditions have been remarkably successful. While critiquing culture is a touchy business, serious
analysts should understand and frankly state that traditional beliefs and practices can have a critical
positive or negative impact on reform.
We all see it daily, whether we realize it or not, when teaching, conducting business or comparing
reform in these two areas.
Mr. William Ratliff is a fellow at Stanford University's Hoover Institution and author of “Doing it Wrong
and Doing it Right: Education in Latin America and Asia” ( Hoover Institution Press, 2003).
http://www.theatlantic.com
02.25.2008
Will English conquer Korea?
The new president of the Republic of Korea, Lee Myung-bak, is best known as an environmentalist
and a pro-U.S. hawk. But he is also a champion of the English language.
As a late bloomer, South Korea is keen to be at the cutting edge of modernity. So as Koreans have
joined the rich, bourgeois, post-industrial world, they've acquired all of the familiar accoutrements: a
large and growing welfare state, rising social liberalism, universal broadband, Ph.D.'s galore. But must
this taste for what is new and what is best extend to the jettisoning of that which is most distinctive
about Korean culture? Do Korean children really need English-only instruction in math, science, and
Korean history, a proposal Lee floated several months back? Well, yes, actually. Lee, being a coward,
abandoned his plans at the last minute, fearing a nationalist backlash. But by embracing English,
Korea could dramatically expand its cultural influence and become the first truly globalized society.
How's that for cutting edge? – Reihan Salam
http://www.nzz.ch
Chongqing will Chinas neues Wachstumsmodell verkörpern
Ungestüme Entwicklung und Modernisierung der industriellen Millionenstadt im westchinesischen
Landesinneren
Chongqing ist eine von Chinas ärmsten, aber zugleich ambitioniertesten Grossstädten. Als Hub zur
Erschliessung des westchinesischen Binnenmarktes erfindet sie sich derzeit selber neu. Pekings
Planer ziehen mit.
Peter A. Fischer, Chongqing, 24. Dezember 2009
«Peking repräsentiert die Vergangenheit, Schanghai die Gegenwart, Chongqing die Zukunft»,
proklamiert Professor Chen Zhonglin enthusiastisch. Der Dekan der juristischen Fakultät der
Universität Chongqing ist ein couragierter Kämpfer für Rechtsstaatlichkeit und für mehr Transparenz
und Rechenschaftspflicht der Behörden. Als solcher sieht er in einer spektakulären Anti-MafiaKampagne, mit welcher der lokale Parteisekretär im Sommer Hunderte hinter Gitter gebracht hat (vgl.
NZZ vom 16. 12. 09), einen wichtigen Beitrag, Chongqing für die Zukunft fit zu machen. Und obwohl
im Reich der Mitte gar manche weltweit bisher kaum bekannte Metropole die Zukunft für sich
reklamieren möchte, hat Chens markiger Spruch auch wirtschaftlich einiges für sich. Peking
repräsentiert die Geschichte und wirtschaftliche Macht eines politisch stark zentralisierten und
gelenkten Staates, während Schanghai für Chinas Reform- und Öffnungspolitik steht, bei der
ausländische Investitionen und exportorientiertes Wachstum vor allem den Küstenregionen schnell zu
neuem Wohlstand verholfen haben. Die per Schiff fünf Tagesreisen flussaufwärts am Jangtse-Fluss
gelegene Millionenstadt Chongqing hingegen war bis vor nicht allzu langer Zeit eine stark
verschmutze, stets neblige und relativ arm gebliebene alte Industriebasis.
Wechselhafte Geschichte
Chongqing hat eine bewegte Geschichte. Als die Japaner im Zweiten Weltkrieg Nanjing einnahmen,
verlegte die Kuomintang-Regierung ihr Hauptquartier und damit die Hauptstadt des Landes in die
weiter oben am Jangtse gelegene Stadt. Ihre politische Bedeutung verlor die Handelsstadt wieder, als
Maos Kommunisten im Bürgerkrieg die Kuomintang vertrieben und die Hauptstadt ins nordchinesische
Peking zurückverlegten. Ähnlich wie Stalin in der Sowjetunion kam aber auch Mao in Zeiten des
Kalten Krieges zum Schluss, dass die Schwer- und Rüstungsindustrie in Küstenstädten zu verletzbar
sei und deshalb ins Landesinnere verlegt werden musste. Chongqing profitierte davon. Doch in
Chinas ersten Reformzeiten hatte die Stadt mit der Hypothek relativ schwerfälliger, nach innen
gerichteter und wenig effizienter staatlicher Konglomerate zu kämpfen. Hinderlich wirkte auch, dass
die rund 250 km nordwestlich gelegene Nachbarstadt Chengdu Hauptstadt der riesigen Inlandprovinz
Sichuan war. Das ihr untergeordnete Chongqing hatte deshalb wesentlich weniger bürokratische und
wirtschaftspolitische Freiheiten. Das änderte sich, als Chongqing 1997 (neben Peking, Schanghai und
Tianjin) zu einer von Chinas vier «regierungsunmittelbaren» Grossstädten erklärt wurde. Daraufhin hat
die Metropole zu einer beeindruckenden Aufholjagd angesetzt.
Heute bezeichnet sich Chongqing gerne als grösste Stadt der Welt. Das trifft wohl zu, wenn man alle
ihre rund 32 Mio. Einwohner zählt. Doch es täuscht, weil Chongqing nicht bloss aus einer Stadt
besteht, sondern fast doppelt so gross ist wie die Schweiz und viel landwirtschaftlich genutztes
Hügelland umfasst. Noch ganze drei Fünftel der Einwohner gelten statistisch als Landbevölkerung.
Die eigentliche City selber zählt heute «nur» rund 6 Mio. Einwohner und ist damit offiziell bloss die
zwanzigstgrösste Metropole Chinas. Doch auch das entspricht bereits etwa der Agglomeration
Chicago, welche Chongqing in manchem als Vorbild gilt.
Ähnlich wie Chicago Anfang des zwanzigsten Jahrhunderts sieht sich Chongqing heute gerne als Ort
des rasanten Wachstums und der schier unbegrenzten Möglichkeiten – mit allen Vor- und Nachteilen.
Doch China ist nicht die USA, und Chongqings Entwicklung hat viel mit gezielter staatlicher Planung
zu tun. Diese will aus der Stadt ein modernisiertes Industriezentrum und vor allem einen Transport-
und Handels-Knotenpunkt für die bessere Erschliessung des westchinesischen Inlands mit seinen
etwa 300 Mio. Einwohnern machen.
2007 deklarierten Chinas Staatsrat und die Nationale Reform- und Entwicklungskommission (Chinas
«Planungsministerium») Chongqing formell zum «Nationalen Pilotprojekt für die umfassende
Integration von Agglomeration und Hinterland» und genehmigten einen Entwicklungsplan bis 2020.
Der sieht vor, dass jährlich 400 000 bis 500 000 Bauern in die Stadt ziehen und bis 2020 70% der
Bevölkerung in städtischen Gebieten leben werden.
Milliardeninvestitionen
Im lokalen Planungsmuseum kann ein riesiges Modell der Stadt bewundert werden, das genau
aufzeigt, wie die Stadt neu modernisiert auferstehen soll. Der Traum eines jeden Planers hält
detailliert – wie es wohl nur in China möglich ist – fest, wo Altes abgerissen wird und wo welche neuen
Hochhäuser spriessen werden. Auf der einen Landspitze zwischen dem Jangtse und dem in ihn
mündenden Bingjiang-Fluss liegt der zentrale Yuzhong-Bezirk, der das Dienstleistungszentrum der
Stadt beherbergt und schon weitgehend neu gebaut ist. Sein Wald von Wolkenkratzern erinnert stark
an Schanghais Pudong.
Die zweite, Jiangbei genannte Landspitze wurde umgepflügt und soll in ein Kultur- und
Wissenschaftszentrum verwandelt werden. Eine von einem deutschen Architekten geplante
futuristische Oper und ein technisches Museum sind als Wahrzeichen bereits gebaut,
wissenschaftliche Institutionen sollen folgen. Riesige Brücken unterstreichen zusätzlich die Modernität.
Nicht dass Chongqing bereits überall neu aussähe. Noch gibt es viele trist und heruntergekommen
wirkende Viertel, und auch den Geschäften ist anzumerken, dass die Kaufkraft und Weltgewandtheit
der Bevölkerung noch deutlich hinter derjenigen der Schanghaier oder Pekinger hinterherhinkt.
Offiziell sind die Löhne in Chongqing erst halb so hoch wie in den beiden Landesmetropolen (vgl.
Tab.). Doch noch mehr als dort wird in der westchinesischen Grossstadt überall gebaut: Häuser,
Strassen, Metro, Hochbahnen, Industrieparks, Häfen.
Laut Shirong Li, der Vizedirektorin von Chongqings Kommission für Aussenhandel und
Wirtschaftsbeziehungen, sind alleine für die fünf Jahre zwischen 2007 und 2012 staatliche
Investitionen von 2000 Mrd. Yuan (rund 300 Mrd. Fr.) vorgesehen. Davon soll die eine Hälfte in den
Bau von Infrastruktur und Häusern und die andere in industrielle Entwicklung fliessen. Ein vor Ort
lebender Ausländer vergleicht die Entwicklung Chongqings mit einem bulligen
Hochgeschwindigkeitszug, der später gestartet und auf seiner Reise noch weniger weit fortgeschritten
ist als etwa die traditionelle Provinzhauptstadt Chengdu, dafür aber mit atemberaubender
Geschwindigkeit aufholt.
Autos, Maschinen und Chemie
Wirtschaftlich hat Chongqing eine starke Verankerung in der (ursprünglich aus der Rüstungsindustrie
entstandenen) Maschinenbau- und Autoindustrie sowie der chemischen Industrie. In der Stadt und
ihren Industriezonen werden bereits über 1 Mio. Fahrzeuge pro Jahr produziert; einen wesentlichen
Teil davon in Joint Ventures mit Ford, Mazda, Suzuki, Iveco und Volvo. Auch Chinas grösster
Hersteller von Motorrädern ist in Chongqing zu finden. Die chemische Industrie verarbeitet unter
anderem in Westchina gefördertes Erdgas. BP betreibt in einem Joint Venture mit der chinesischen
Sinopec eine grosse Essigsäurefabrik, BASF plant bis zu 1 Mrd. € in den Bau einer Polyurethan-MDIAnlage zu investieren, um die sich ein neuer Industriepark mit anderen Chemiefirmen gruppieren soll.
Im Einklang mit dem neuen Motto von Chinas Parteiführung, dem «wissenschaftlichen Wachstum»,
will natürlich auch Chongqing nicht nur auf alte Industrien setzen, sondern ein «grünes», nachhaltiges
Wachstum fördern. Speziell angelockt werden soll in Ergänzung zur bestehenden Pharmaindustrie die
Medizinaltechnik. Für die Elektronik- und IT-Industrie sind sechs Industrie-Clusters vorgesehen;
insgesamt gibt es bereits mehr als 30 Industrieparks. Auch die Nahrungsmittelindustrie soll in
Chongqing eine Heimat finden, von der aus sich der ganze westchinesische Markt beliefern lässt.
Als wesentliche Standortvorteile sieht die lokale Verwaltung die ganz neu gebaute Infrastruktur, ein für
die Entwicklung Westchinas gewährter reduzierter Gewinnsteuersatz von 15% statt 25%, die
Arbeitskosten, welche (zumindest für einfache Arbeiter) laut den lokalen Standortförderern noch um
einen Drittel bis einen Viertel tiefer sein sollen als in den Küstenstädten, sowie die hinreichende
Verfügbarkeit von vergleichsweise günstigem Erdgas und zumeist aus Wasserkraft gewonnenem
Strom.
Ausländische Investoren vor Ort loben die ungeheure Dynamik. Um als Ausländer unternehmerisch
erfolgreich zu sein, müsse man aber echten, für chinesische Konkurrenz nicht einfach kopierbaren
Mehrwert bieten. Grosse Chancen werden für Anbieter von umweltfreundlicher, energieeffizienter
Technologie gesehen.
Vor allem mittlere und kleinere Unternehmen monieren, dass die lokalen Verhältnisse noch spürbar
«chinesischer» seien als in den grossen Küstenstädten und eben «wilder Westen». Es gelte, sich
damit vertraut zu machen; den Umgang mit Ausländern sei man hier noch weniger gewohnt. Das zeigt
sich auch daran, dass in der Millionenstadt offiziell erst wenige tausend Ausländer wohnhaft sind.
Zu den Schwierigkeiten, auf die sich ausländische Investoren einstellen müssen, zählt offenbar, dass
Behörden viel versprechen, aber Zusagen nicht unbedingt einhalten und dass beispielsweise in der
Logistik noch staatliche Betreibergesellschaften nicht immer schnell und zuverlässig genug arbeiten.
Mit westlichen Compliance-Vorschriften nicht zu vereinbarende korrupte Netzwerke in Firmen und
Verwaltungen gelten unter Ausländern als ein Problem – die Anti-Mafia- und Anti-Korruptions-Initiative
des neuen Parteisekretärs wird deshalb rundum begrüsst. Qualifizierte Arbeiter zu finden und
westliche Qualitätsansprüche durchzusetzen, sei ebenfalls eine Herausforderung, dafür blieben
ausgebildete Arbeiter ihrem Arbeitgeber eher treu als an der Küste.
Der Nachteil als Vorteil
In den ersten Jahrzehnten von Chinas Öffnungs- und Reformpolitik hatten Westchina und Chongqing
das Nachsehen, weil sie weit im Landesinnern für Exportgeschäfte relativ ungünstig gelegen waren.
Doch dieser Nachteil soll nun zum Vorteil werden. Chongqing ist der am weitesten im Landesinneren
gelegene wirtschaftliche Hub, der noch per Fluss für die Schifffahrt erreichbar ist. Chongqings Hafen
soll stark ausgebaut und die Erreichbarkeit für grössere Containerschiffe verbessert werden. Peking
hat vor einem Jahr die Einrichtung von Chinas erstem weit im Inland gelegenem Zollfreihafen
genehmigt. Von dort aus ist der Westen des Landes auf relativ gut ausgebauten Strassen und
Eisenbahnlinien zu erreichen. Nun setzt Chongqing darauf, dass im Zuge der notwendigen
Neuorientierung von Chinas Modell wirtschaftlicher Entwicklung der Binnenmarkt wichtiger als das
Exportgeschäft und die Metropole zu einem leuchtenden Symbol von Chinas Zukunft wird. Vorerst ist
sie vor allem noch eine beeindruckende Baustelle.
pfi. ⋅ Der Schweizer Ulrich Birch ist im Sommer mit seinen Angestellten in den rund 60 km von
Chongqings Zentrum gelegenen Degan-Industriepark in eine ganz neue Fabrik umgezogen. Nicht
ohne Stolz hält er fest, dass sein Werk nun in manchem sogar noch etwas moderner ist als die
Fertigung am Hauptstandort in Baden. In den Bau der chinesischen Produktionsstätte für Turbolader
hat ABB einen zweistelligen Millionenbetrag investiert. Nach Chongqing kam die Konzerngesellschaft
bereits 2006, weil hier der Joint-Venture-Partner, eine Tochter der staatlichen China Shipping Industry
Co., seinen Standort hat. Die Arbeitsbedingungen in dessen Werk genügten aber den Anforderungen
von ABB nicht mehr. Produziert wird nun mit 360 Angestellten in der neuen Fabrik und 170 im
Aussendienst – darunter insgesamt 5 Ausländern für den chinesischen Markt sowie einige
Komponenten auch für den Export. Den Ausschlag für die Produktionsverlagerung nach China gab die
wachsende chinesische Nachfrage, welche des Tempos und der Logistik wegen von näher bedient
werden musste; Arbeitskosten spielten offenbar eine geringere Rolle. Die komplexesten Turbolader
werden allerdings – wohl auch zum Schutz vor Diebstahl geistigen Eigentums – noch nur in Baden
gefertigt.
Rieter Automotive folgte westlichen Autobauern nach Chongqing und eröffnete 2007 ein eigenes
Werk. Die Schweizer Firma exportiert von dort inzwischen auch nach Thailand und Korea und hofft,
künftig auch dank chinesischen Kunden von dem enormen Wachstum des asiatischen Marktes zu
profitieren. Die Zahl der lokalen Mitarbeiter soll in Kürze von 140 auf 250 steigen.
http://www.nzz.ch
13. November 2009
Der See in der Mitte
In der vietnamesischen Kapitale Hanoi kann man sich gut in die französische Kolonialzeit
zurückversetzen
Wie wenige andere Städte Indochinas ist Hanoi äusserlich noch immer stark von der französischen
Kolonialherrschaft geprägt.
Stephan Burianek
Morgen für Morgen verwandelt sich das Ufer des im Herzen von Hanoi gelegenen Hoan-Kiem-Sees in
ein riesiges Fitnesscenter. Kollektiv gegen den Uhrzeigersinn traben Tausende von Einwohnern aller
Altersgruppen im Schnell- und Laufschritt um das Gewässer. Männer spielen Fussball, stemmen
Gewichte oder machen Aufwärmübungen. An mehreren Plätzen folgen Dutzende Frauen einer
Vortänzerin zu lauter Technomusik. Ältere Semester pflegen an ruhigeren Orten traditionelle
asiatische Körperübungen.
Bei «Onkel Ho»
Ist nach diesem Morgenspektakel die Lust auf weitere lokale Ereignisse erwacht, sollte die Buslinie Nr.
2 in Richtung Regierungs- und Diplomatenviertel bestiegen werden. Dort befindet sich nämlich der
Betonkubus des Ho-Chi- Minh-Mausoleums. Seit 1975 liegt der hochverehrte «Onkel» der Nation in
diesem grauen Auswuchs realsozialistischer Paradearchitektur. Er wird täglich von unzähligen
Vietnamesen besucht. Ob freiwillig oder nicht, können wir nicht beurteilen. Doch wir sind beeindruckt
von der langen Menschenschlange, die sich vormittags vor dem Kultbau bildet. Geduldig warten
Vietnamesen unterschiedlichsten Alters darauf, eine kleine Runde in jener Dunkelkammer drehen zu
können, in welcher der Leichnam des zufrieden und sanft entschlafen wirkenden und im knalligen
Orange erleuchteten Strategen liegt. Das Tragen von Shorts ist tabu, und Besucher werden gemahnt,
ihre Sonnenbrillen und jegliche Kopfbedeckung vor dem Betreten des Mausoleums abzunehmen.
Das Mitführen von Kameras ist ebenso verboten wie ein Innehalten vor dem Verehrten. Für den
reibungslosen Ablauf sorgen Uniformierte alter kommunistischer Schule. Von September bis
Dezember bleiben die Mausoleums-Türen allerdings geschlossen, da der hochgeschätzten Mumie in
dieser Zeit ein Service verpasst wird – angeblich in Moskau.
Mit dem Bus Nr. 9 lohnt sich anschliessend eine Fahrt in das französische Viertel, in dem einige
Perlen kolonialer Architektur erhalten geblieben sind. Auch wenn der schlichte Prunk im Inneren des
einstigen Opernhauses nur im Rahmen von sporadischen Vorstellungen betrachtet werden kann,
lohnt sich ein Blick auf die renovierte Fassade des 1911 errichteten Gebäudes. Dasselbe gilt für die
ehemalige Residenz des Gouverneurs von Tonkin, welche heutzutage als offizielles Gästehaus für
hohe Besucher dient und daher dem Publikum ebenfalls verschlossen bleibt.
Gestattet, ja erwünscht ist hingegen das Eintreten in das ehemaliges «Grand Metropole Palace», das
heute die etwas schlichtere Bezeichnung Hotel Sofitel Metropole trägt. Einst zählte es zu den
führenden Hotels in Indochina. Langsam, aber sicher gewinnt es sich seinen guten Ruf zurück. In den
1930er Jahren verbrachte hier Charlie Chaplin seine Flitterwochen, zwei Jahrzehnte danach logierte
Graham Greene in dem strahlend weissen Gebäude.
Von hier ist es ein Katzensprung hin zur belebten Altstadt, wo besonders das Café-Restaurant Nhan
in der Ng'-Háng-Hánh-Gasse eine Einkehr lohnt. Von diesem Ziel sollte man sich keinesfalls
abbringen lassen. Denn die reichhaltige Speisekarte des «Nhan» deckt zu himmlischen Preisen einen
guten Teil der vielseitigen vietnamesischen Küche ab. Diese ist gleichermassen von der chinesischen
wie von der französischen Cuisine beeinflusst und bietet zudem sehr viel Eigenständiges.
Neben gebratenen Tauben, einem Gericht, das vielleicht nicht nach dem Geschmack jedes Touristen
ist, werden dort auch Rind- und Schweinefleisch in allen Formen, hervorragender Fisch und Tofu
sowie köstlich gebratener Reis serviert. Auch «Lâu», die brodelnde Gemüsesuppe, in welcher der
Gast Fleischstücke oder Garnelen selbst kocht, darf nicht fehlen. Besonders empfehlenswert ist M'c
xáo thâp câ'm, kurz angebratener Tintenfisch in mit Dill und Knoblauch angereicherter süss-saurer
Sauce.
Anschliessend lässt sich spielend eintauchen in das Gassengewirr der Altstadt, wo sich ein Geschäft
an das andere reiht. Touristische Andenken werden ebenso feilgeboten wie Altare, Metallwaren oder
gemeisselte Steinbuddhas. Händlerinnen mit traditionellem Kegelhut sind zudem per pedes
unterwegs, um Touristen frisches Obst zu überhöhten Preisen anzudrehen.
König und Schildkröte
Apropos Touristen: Wenn es einen Ort gibt in Hanoi, wo die Touristen fast ausschliesslich unter sich
sind, dann ist das das Wasserpuppentheater am eingangs erwähnten Hoan-Kiem-See. Dort ist erneut
Anstellen in der Schlange angesagt. Davon sollte man sich aber nicht verunsichern lassen, denn man
muss kein grosser Freund des Marionettentheaters sein, um an diesem volkstümlichen
Musikspektakel Gefallen zu finden. Fünf Musiker und zwei Sängerinnen begleiten in den einstündigen
Shows bunt bemalte Holzpuppen, die sich flink in dem im Bühnenbild integrierten Wasserbecken
bewegen.
Kenntnis der vietnamesischen Sprache ist nicht erforderlich, um die einzelnen Szenen, die allesamt
sagenhaften Erzählungen entlehnt sind, zu verstehen. So taucht etwa der sagenumwobene König Le
Loi aus dem 15. Jahrhundert auf, um in humorvoller Art und Weise einer Schildkröte ihr Schwert zu
retournieren, welches ihr zuvor hilfreiche Dienste im Kampf gegen die chinesische Bedrohung
geleistet hat. Deshalb heisst das Gewässer im Herzen Hanois auch «See des zurückgegebenen
Schwertes». Ein romantischer Sonnenuntergang mit Blick auf den dreistufigen Schildkrötenpavillon
inmitten des Wassers rundet schliesslich den erlebnisreichen Tag ab.
http://www.nzz.ch
6. Oktober 2009
Bedrängnisse einer Unpolitischen
Die Buchmesse und ihre problematischen Ehrengäste – diesmal China
Seit sich ihr Direktor bei Chinas Offiziellen für den Auftritt zweier Dissidenten an einem Symposium
entschuldigt hat, steht die Frankfurter Buchmesse unter Beobachtung: Beugt sie sich der Zensur?
Joachim Güntner
Dass China aufgrund seiner Haltung zu Tibet, zu Taiwan und zur Zensur an der Frankfurter
Buchmesse einen problematischen Ehrengast abgeben würde, war der Messeleitung stets klar. Mit
Gedanken an eine Einladung trugen sich schon die Messedirektoren Peter Weidhaas, der von 1975
bis 2000 als Messedirektor amtierte, und Volker Neumann (2002 bis 2005). Erst Neumanns
Nachfolger Jürgen Boos stellte die Bedenken so weit hintan, dass der Vertrag über den
herausgehobenen Auftritt Chinas im Rahmen des Ehrengast-Programms abgeschlossen werden
konnte.
Flagge zeigt bloss der Staatsanwalt
Als Boos im vorigen Jahr an die chinesische Buchmesse in Tianjin reiste, lobte er ausdrücklich die
Entwicklung des Landes. Zuweilen wirke das ganze Volk wie ausgewechselt, gab er zu Protokoll.
Dynamische junge Geschäftsleute statt erstarrter Parteikader waren ihm in den Konferenzen
begegnet, und Boos zeigte sich zuversichtlich, dass man die für Produktpiraterie vielgeschmähten
Chinesen zur Achtung des Urheberrechts bringen könne. Den Befürchtungen, China werde die
Frankfurter Buchmesse 2009 zu einer propagandistischen Selbstdarstellung des immer noch
autoritären Regimes nutzen, hielt er die pluralistische Natur des Messegeschehens entgegen: Die
Frankfurter Buchmesse sei prinzipiell eine Plattform für Selbstdarstellungen, da sie aber vielen
Stimmen Raum gebe, mischten sich Licht und Schatten, und Propaganda werde automatisch
konterkariert.
Diese Position ist für die Buchmesse konstitutiv. Wäre sie eine politische Organisation, könnte man sie
mit einem liberalen Nachtwächterstaat vergleichen. Selbst dieser Vergleich jedoch geht zu weit für
eine Handels- und Fachmesse, die nirgendwo als politische Ordnungsmacht auftreten will. Sicher, die
Messe hat auch ein kulturpolitisches Credo, tritt ein für die Freiheit des Wortes. Sie schreibt aber
keinem Aussteller oder Ehrengast die Ausrichtung seines Auftritts vor. Wer danach fragt, erhält zur
Antwort: Die an der Messe geltenden Verhaltensregeln sind identisch mit den Gesetzen der
Bundesrepublik. Darüber hinaus seien ausserdem die feuerpolizeilichen Sicherheitsmassregeln zu
beachten. Mehr nicht.
Zensur bleibt ungeahndet
Was daraus praktisch folgt, lässt sich beispielsweise beobachten, wenn wieder einmal antisemitisches
Schriftgut an Ständen von Verlagen ausliegt. In solchen Fällen nimmt die Messeleitung nicht selber
eine Beschlagnahme vor, sondern schaltet Justitia ein. Kein Fall für den deutschen Staatsanwalt
jedoch ist es, wenn das zu ehrende Gastland nur handverlesene Autoren in Frankfurt präsentiert und
anderen die Ausreise verwehrt. Damit bleibt Zensur leider ungeahndet. Ihr kann allenfalls mit
Kontrastprogrammen Dritter begegnet werden. So wird der deutsche PEN an der Messe, die nächste
Woche beginnt, täglich von 11 bis 12 Uhr eine «chinesische Stunde» abhalten, in der die Stimmen der
Unterdrückten zu hören sind. Die Gesellschaft für bedrohte Völker will Rebiya Kadeer, die Präsidentin
des Weltkongresses der Uiguren, als Rednerin aufbieten. Ob's klappt? Der von chinesischen
Polizisten unlängst verprügelte und in München operierte Künstler Ai Weiwei sollte auf dem Blauen
Sofa Luft über seine Arbeit berichten, doch seine Kopfverletzung zwang ihn jetzt zur Absage.
Dreitausend Veranstaltungen insgesamt bietet die Messe, fünfhundert davon sind China gewidmet,
und diese werden je zur Hälfte von offizieller und nichtoffizieller Seite bestritten. Man hat es also mit
einer Zweiteilung zu tun. Dennoch wäre es zu grobschlächtig zu sagen, dass dabei die
konformistische chinesische Literatur der oppositionellen gegenüberstünde. Der Messebesucher wird
ohnehin die Fronten nicht klar scheiden können. Jedes ursprünglich in Chinesisch verfasste Buch,
mag es auch nie in China, sondern nur im Ausland erschienen sein, darf sich an der Messe mit einem
Zettel schmücken, der es als Teil des Ehrengast-Programms ausweist.
Seit dem Eiertanz, den es um den Auftritt der kritischen, aber frei in China lebenden Autorin Dai Qing
und des exilierten Schriftstellers Bei Ling an einem Frankfurter Symposium gegeben hat (NZZ 15. 9.
09), steht Messedirektor Jürgen Boos unter Beobachtung: Wann folgt der nächste Kotau vor den
Mächtigen aus dem Reich der Mitte? Bei diesem Verdacht spielt die Vorstellung eine Rolle,
wirtschaftliche Interessen könnten die Frankfurter Buchmesse willfährig machen. Das aber
überschätzt Chinas Bedeutung im internationalen Buchgeschäft. Rund 300 000 Publikationen im Jahr,
davon die Hälfte Neuerscheinungen, sind nicht sonderlich viel, verglichen mit deutschen Zahlen
(weniger Novitäten, nämlich rund 90 000, aber über 1 Million Neu- und Nachdrucke pro Jahr).
Vor allem sind die chinesischen Buchpreise derart niedrig, dass China, anders als Taiwan oder Korea,
als Partner im Lizenzgeschäft für deutsche Verlage kaum lukrativ ist. Würde China die Messe
boykottieren, gingen Frankfurt zwar Mieten für die Stände verloren, und auch die örtliche Hotellerie
wäre nicht erbaut. Von schweren finanziellen Einbussen indes könnte keine Rede sein. Die
Amerikaner würden den Deutschen vermutlich Beifall klatschen; insofern wäre ein Boykott ein
Imagegewinn. Bei näherer Betrachtung fällt es schwer, sich auszumalen, womit China Druck machen
könnte. Eine Absage stand denn auch nie im Raum. Seit 1988, damals traf die Wahl Italien, pflegt die
Frankfurter Buchmesse das Konzept, jedes Jahr ein Gastland hervorzuheben. Als MarketingInstrument zur Erzeugung von Aufmerksamkeit hat es sich bestens bewährt, politisch kann die Sache
unangenehm werden, wenn autoritäre Regime das liberale Frankfurter Forum nutzen. Russland
erwies sich 2003 als der befürchtete harte Brocken. Zum Lobe der damals amtierenden Messeleitung
darf gesagt werden, dass sie frühzeitig Nichtregierungsorganisationen in die Programmplanung
einbezog. Solche eigenen Aktivitäten der Messeleitung scheinen im Fall Chinas zu fehlen.
Der Bock als Gärtner
2004 lud Frankfurt mit der «arabischen Welt» gleich ein Bündel von 22 Staaten ein, was gut war, denn
die Inhomogenität der Gruppe bürgte für mehr Pluralismus, als man hätte gewährleisten können, hätte
man nur ein einziges arabisches Land, Ägypten etwa, ausgewählt. Der damals amtierende
Messedirektor Volker Neumann suchte den Glücksfall in ein Konzept umzumünzen: weg von den
politischen Einheiten, hin zu kulturellen Räumen. Eine Frucht dieser Neudefinition war die Einladung
der «katalanischen Kultur». Doch der Versuch, die Fallstricke der Politik zu umgehen, scheiterte. Die
katalanischen Organisatoren kehrten ihren Nationalismus hervor, grenzten die nicht katalanisch
schreibenden Autoren Spaniens aus und übten so unerwartet Zensur. 2009 endlich steht die
Buchmesse da, wo niemand sie sich wünschen kann: Ihr Partner ist die Pekinger «Behörde für Presse
und Publikation» (GAPP). Damit ist das Organisationskomitee des Ehrengast-Auftritts identisch mit
Chinas oberstem Zensor. Der Bock darf Gärtner sein.
http://www.nzz.ch
20. September 2009
Die Nordostpassage bleibt ein Seeweg für Pioniere
Erstmals sind Handelsschiffe über das Nordpolarmeer von Asien nach Europa gefahren. Sehr viele
Nachahmer werden sie kaum finden.
Victor Merten
Die Aussicht klingt verlockend: über das nördliche Eismeer von Ostasien nach Europa zu fahren statt
durch den Indischen Ozean und den Suezkanal. Schiffe könnten auf dieser kürzesten Route zwischen
beiden Kontinenten schneller ihren Bestimmungsort erreichen. Nun ist der Traum Wirklichkeit
geworden. Diese Woche haben zwei Frachter der Bremer Reederei Beluga die Nordostpassage
gemeistert.
Die Erwärmung des Klimas und das stärkere Abschmelzen des Polareises im Sommer machen es
möglich. Am 23. Juli stach die «Beluga Fraternity» im südkoreanischen Ulsan in See, gefolgt vom
Schwesterschiff «Beluga Foresight». Am 7. September konnten die beiden Schiffe bei Novyy Port im
Obbusen 200 bis 300 Tonnen schwere Bauteile für ein Kraftwerk im sibirische Surgut löschen.
Kommende Woche werden die Frachter in Rotterdam erwartet. Nur im nördlichsten Teil der Passage
begleiteten sie zur Sicherheit zwei russische Eisbrecher.
Niels Stolberg, der 48-jährige Chef des Projekt- und Schwergut-Spezialisten Beluga Shipping, konnte
diese Woche gleich in mehreren Interviews über die Pionierleistung seines Unternehmens
schwärmen. Die Nordostpassage wird nach seiner Einschätzung im Bereich Schwergut an Bedeutung
gewinnen. Für die 8700 statt 11 000 Seemeilen lange Strecke brauche Beluga zehn Tage weniger
lang als sonst, pro Schiff spare er 200 000 Euro. Nächstes Jahr will Stolberg mit grösseren Frachtern
durch die Nordostpassage fahren und dabei je 400 000 Euro sparen.
Peter Irminger, Professor für Schifffahrtrecht und Navigation an der Hochschule Bremen, glaubt nicht,
dass die Zukunft der Nordostpassage gehört. «Man wollte das einmal ausprobieren, aber die Route
wird nur für eine sehr beschränkte Zahl von Transporten interessant sein», sagt der Schweizer, der als
Kapitän selber zehn Jahre zur See gefahren ist. Eine lohnende Verkürzung des Seewegs ergebe sich
nur zwischen sibirischen Häfen und höchstens Japan oder Korea. Für entferntere Bestimmungsorte
wie die Grosshäfen Hongkong oder Singapur zahle sich die Strecke nicht mehr aus. Zwar bleibe sie
kürzer, aber man brauche mehr Zeit, weil im Eismeer die Schiffe nicht mit Höchstgeschwindigkeit
fahren könnten.
Teuer zu stehen kommt laut Irminger zudem das langwierige Genehmigungsverfahren der russischen
Behörden. Ganze 20 Tage mussten die Beluga-Frachter in Wladiwostok warten. Vor allem aber kann
die Nordostpassage nur für die Tramp-Schifffahrt von Interesse sein, also für Schiffe, die für eine ganz
bestimmte Ladung unterwegs sind. «Linienschiffe, die feste Fahrpläne einhalten müssen, könnten
dies auf der Nordostpassage wegen der unberechenbaren Eisverhältnisse nie garantieren», erklärt
der Schifffahrtsexperte. Die meisten Waren würden aber auf Linienschiffen befördert.
«Die Benutzung der Nordostpassage wird immer ein Nischenmarkt bleiben», sagt Irminger. «Zum
heutigen Zeitpunkt könnte sie nur unter 5 Prozent des gesamten Warenverkehrs zwischen Asien und
Europa aufnehmen.» Gefahren für die Umwelt sollte man laut Irminger deswegen aber keinesfalls
unterschätzen. Im empfindlichen Ökosystem des Eismeers wirkten sich bereits geringe
Schadstoffmengen stark aus. «Ich möchte mir dort eine richtige Havarie mit Ölaustritt nicht
vorstellen», sagt der Kapitän. Es sei undenkbar, wie man in der kurzen Zeit, die zur Verfügung stehe,
in Eisgewässern eine solche Umweltkatastrophe eindämmen könnte. In Anbetracht der schwierigen
Navigationsverhältnisse stelle jedes Schiff ein hohes Risiko dar.
*** bis hierher umverteilt
***
http://www.spiegel.de
09.02.2007
Satellitenbild der Woche: Smogwolken ziehen über Korea
Wie schnell Chinas Industrie wächst, können Satelliten auch aus dem Weltall beobachten. Ein NasaFoto zeigt gigantische Abgasschwaden, die sich über Korea in Richtung Japan ausbreiten.
Wie ein Schleier legen sich die Abgaswolken über China, Korea und das Japanische Meer. Der NasaSatellit "Aqua" hat dieses Foto vor drei Tagen, am 6. Februar 2007 geschossen. Die Rauchschwaden
scheinen sich über Korea etwas zusammenzuziehen, um danach in Richtung Japan wieder breiter zu
werden.
Smog über Asien: Kohlekraftwerke als Ursache
Der Blick auf Nordkorea ist durch die Abgaswolken nur leicht gestört, Teile Südkoreas werden
hingegen von dichten weißen Wolken verdeckt. Am dichtesten erscheinen die Rauchschwaden über
dem Südwesten Chinas zu sein. Ihre Ursache sind nach Nasa-Angaben die vielen Kohlekraftwerke,
die den Energiehunger der boomenden chinesischen Wirtschaft stillen.
Die Luftverschmutzung wird in China zu einem immer größeren Problem. Große Städte werden
regelmäßig von Smog geplagt – nicht nur wegen der vielen Kohlekraftwerke, sondern auch wegen des
rasant steigenden Autoverkehrs.
Das chinesische Parlament hat nach Angaben des Worldwatch Institute kürzlich beschlossen, kleinere
Kohlekraftwerke stillzulegen. Diese stoßen bis zu 20 Mal mehr Smog-bildende Partikel aus als große
Kraftwerke.
China ist dabei, zum größten CO2-Erzeuger der Welt aufzusteigen. Wenn sich die Industrie des
Landes weiter so entwickelt wie bisher, dann wird das Reich der Mitte im Jahr 2010 die USA von der
Spitzenposition ablösen. Dies hat kürzlich die Internationale Energieagentur IEA berechnet.
Chinas Wirtschaft wächst schon seit Jahren rasant, und mit ihr der Energiehunger des Landes.
Experten halten das im Zusammenhang mit der globalen Erwärmung für besonders beunruhigend,
denn China ist dem Kyoto-Protokoll zum Klimaschutz zwar beigetreten, wird durch dieses aber nicht
zu Treibhausgas-Reduktionen verpflichtet. Die IEA hat kürzlich "entschlossene politische
Maßnahmen" gefordert, um die Welt auf einen "nachhaltigeren Energiepfad" zu lenken.
http://www.spiegel.de
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