The Post-American World - Fareed Zakaria [59]
Until recently, memories of China’s revolutionary foreign policy—which in practice meant using the Chinese diaspora to foment trouble—lingered. Beijing’s invasion of Vietnam, its claims in the South China Sea, and its border disputes with Russia and India had given China the image of a prickly and troublesome neighbor. By the late 1990s, however, China had adopted a very different regional policy, which became especially clear from its constructive role in the region after the East Asian crisis of 1997. Since then, Beijing has become remarkably adept at using its political and economic muscle in a patient, low-key, and highly effective manner. Its diplomacy now emphasizes a long-term perspective, a nonpreachy attitude, and strategic decision making that isn’t bogged down by internal opposition or bureaucratic paralysis. It has taken a more accommodating political line, provided generous aid packages (often far outstripping those provided by the United States), and moved speedily on a free-trade deal with ASEAN. Having long avoided multilateral associations, it has more recently gotten involved in as many as possible—even creating one of its own, the East Asian Summit, which pointedly excludes the United States. China is now welcomed by the Southeast Asian nations as well. The seemingly pro-American president of the Philippines, Gloria Arroyo, publicly proclaimed, “We are happy to have China as our big brother.”16
This change is reflected in Beijing’s relations with governments throughout its neighborhood. The Vietnamese, for example, have no particular love for China. As one official there said to me, “We are clear-eyed. China has occupied Vietnam for a thousand years. It has invaded us thirteen times since then.” But he also acknowledged, “it is a huge presence, our biggest exporter”—which means that their governments and peoples must approach the relationship pragmatically. Bookstores I visited in Vietnam prominently displayed the collected speeches of the Chinese leaders Deng Xiaoping, Jiang Zemin, and Hu Jintao.
Before arriving in Vietnam, I had been in Tokyo, during Chinese Prime Minister Wen Jiabao’s 2007 state visit, and I heard a similar refrain. Wen finessed the many points of tension between the two countries and instead accentuated the positive—their booming economic ties. This détente, however, is fragile and points to the principal danger in Beijing’s foreign policy—its effort to co-opt nationalism for its own purposes.
In the past, Beijing insisted on keeping relations with Japan tense. Japan’s wartime atrocities and reluctance to acknowledge guilt have been a large part of the problem. But Beijing also seemed to actively cultivate tension—bringing up Japan’s wartime behavior whenever convenient, refusing to accept Japanese apologies, and teaching a virulently anti-Japanese version of history in its schools. In April 2005, the Chinese government appeared to encourage anti-Japanese protests over history textbooks, only to find them mushroom into mob demonstrations, riots, stone throwing at the Japanese embassy, and widespread calls to boycott Japanese goods.
In strategic terms, assuming a “peaceful rise” policy, it makes little sense for Beijing to be as uncompromising toward Tokyo as it was in the past. Doing so would ensure that China will have a hostile neighbor, one with a formidable military and one of the world’s largest economies. A wiser strategy would be to