CCP's Decision to Bring In Entrepreneurs

In his article, Guoguang Wu described the Chinese Communist Party's decision to allow entrepreneurs to become party members as both an internally and externally expedient move.

He wrote: "It is perhaps correct to see an embracing of capitalists in Jiang's (Zemin, 江泽民) speech, but it is also correct to say that it is, politically, a bear's embrace in order to nourish itself, and internationally, a move to join with national capitalists ... against foreign and capitalists ..." (Guoguang Wu, "From the July 1 Speech to the Sixteenth Party Congress: Ideology, Party Construction, and Leadership Transition", in "China's Leadership in the 21st Century: The Rise of the Fourth Generation, Ed. David M. Finkelstein and Maryanne Kivlehan)

Maybe my previous training had made me very graphic. But after reading about the reference to a "bear's embrace", the image that was conjured in my mind was that of a grizzly bear with the body of a bear and yet the face of Jiang.

In the image, the bear-Jiang monstrosity was hugging a pot of honey labeled "entrepreneurs" and had a victorious/triumphant smile on his/its bespectacled (large black framed glasses) face.

Hmm, I really should get that image out of my head, ASAP.

Chinese Nationalism Isn't Like A Switch To Be Turn On and Off At Will

I am always a little weary of those who suggest that nationalism is a card that China likes to play, as if it is a "sure-win" option if resorted to.

Such as Murray Scot Tanner who suggested that Chinese President Hu Jintao (胡锦涛) is likely to "flirt with nationalist appeals if this serves his ends."

Tanner also wrote that it was Hu "who went on Chinese television in May 1999 to address the nation after the errant bombing by the United States of the PRC Embassy in Belgrade." (Murray Scot Tanner, "Hu Jintao's succession: Prospects and Challenges" in "China's Leadership in the 21st Century, Ed David M. Finkelstein and Maryanne Kivlehan)

First of all, given Hu's cautious nature in the years leading up to his eventual succession as President, it seems unlikely that he would volunteer himself for the task. More likely, and according to what I've heard, Hu was "pushed" by former President Jiang Zemin (江泽民) to do the television appearance. So that if anything goes wrong, Hu can take the blame, and if all goes well, Jiang can take the credit.

Secondly, I get the sense that while Beijing was certainly keen to get some political mileage out of the bombing, and hence it condoned, or as some may say, encouraged the few days of demonstrations and protests by mainly students outside the U.S. Embassy, there is also the very real fear that things might spiral out of control, and which explained why the demonstrations were broken up after 3-4 days. Indeed, the last thing the Chinese leadership wanted to see were demonstrations that began as nationalistic in nature, but ended up anti-communist and anti-regime.

Nationalism is a card that Chinese leaders had, and will continue to play, but if handled indelicately, it could be a double-edged sword. Nationalism isn't like a switch whereby Beijing can turn on and off at will, and I am pretty sure its leaders are astute enough to realize that.

Japan's Shinsei Bank

In Steven Vogel's "Japan Remodeled: How Government and Industry are reforming Japanese Capitalism", the case study of Shinsei Bank makes for interesting reading.

Despite pressure from the authorities, the bank refused to grant credit or roll over credit to troubled borrowers. It also got rid of lousy corporate clients. These moves were generally seen as being in line with market principles. But in Japan, Shinsei's brand of common sense was said to have "blatantly violated standard norms and practices".

The bank had also reportedly infuriated government officials, unnerved its own employees and alienated many potential business partners.

Sounds tough being a maverick in Japan, which is sometimes synonymous with being a pariah?

Fun with Chinese Names

Someone mentioned yesterday that Zhou Xiaochuan (周小川), governor for the People's Bank of China is one of those tipped to be Chinese Premier one day. That's nothing new, of course.

But the first thing that crossed my increasingly frivolous mind was - would Chinese accept a Premier with a somewhat frivolous name like "Xiao Chuan", which means "little stream"?

Of course factors like names would probably never enter into mainstream discussions about leadership succession.

But among ordinary Chinese, I've heard stories about how apart from other obvious reasons, Wu Bangguo (吴邦国) should never have been appointed senior statesman coz his name sounded like "of no help to the country" (无帮国) or even "no nation state" (无邦国). But despite his less-than-auspicious name, he is still ranked number two on the Politburo Standing Committee. A clear indication that names does not matter as much as political acceptability.

Then there was Wei Jianxing (尉建行), whose name sounded like "not being able to build something well", which was perhaps why his efforts in tackling corruption were limited. Wei was a Politburo Standing Committee member after the 15th Party Congress tasked with tackling corruption.

And during the country's efforts in tackling the 1997 floods, propaganda department officials reportedly demanded that a prominent CCTV reporter (and later well-known host) be taken off-air, as his name was Shui Junyi (水均益), which sounded like "water spilling all over". Not very auspicious of course, in this context.

Anyone has anymore to add to the list?

Al Qaeda Funded by the Reagan Administration

Given my ignorance about al Qaeda, it came as news to me when I read that they were partly funded by the Reagan administration in the late 80s.

Apparently, the rudimentary foundation of al Qaeda was created in 1987 after the split of two factions of the mujahedeen (holy warriors) fighting against the Soviet presence in Afghanistan.

And during the 1980s, the Reagan administration (which simultaneously warned of Islamic fundamentalism in Iran) generously funded the anti-Soviet insurgence, "using fundamentalism to entice potential recruits from around the region." (David Leheny, "The War on Terrorism in Asia and the Possibility of Secret Regionalism" in "Remapping East Asia: The Construction of a Region", Ed T.J. Pempel)

Talk about feeding the snakes to kill the lion. And when the lion is slain, the snakes find new targets, including the hands that previously fed them. Of course I am simplifying issues, and being simplistic here.

Don't Japanese Prime Ministers have spin doctors?

Just read an article by Ellis S. Krauss & Benjamin Nyblade titled "Presidentialization in Japan? The Prime Minister, Media and Elections in Japan." (British Journal of Political Science, Vol. 35, 2005)

What was interesting to me was how the ruling Liberal Democratic Party (LDP) felt the threat to its majority had been challenged, and hence the need to reform the image of the Prime Minister.

But the article triggered off more questions than answers. For example, the article noted that in the past, little press coverage was given to the Prime Minister, since it was not the centre of power. But despite that, surely the words and deeds that came with the Premier's position was considered newsworthy?

And besides, given the not-very-antagonistic, if not chummy relations between the Japanese media and policymakers, why was it so hard to get the media to give favorable coverage to the Premier? If the media can generally oblige in not running negative or paparazzi-style stories about the imperial family, surely they can be co-opted to (occasionally) give slightly positive coverage to the PM?

Also, doesn’t the Prime Minister’s Office have media specialist types, if not spin doctors to help project the PM's image in a more positive and personable light? Former PM Junichiro Koizumi presumably does not need help in that department but doesn’t his other rather dowdy counterparts need a boost, if not an outright overhaul?

South African Military Attache Taken Hostage in Taiwan in 1997

Some of us with slightly better memories might remember the gruesome 1996 kidnap and murder of the daughter of Taiwan TV variety show host Bai Bingbing (白冰冰). The crime was committed by Chen Chin-hsing (陈进兴), said to be the most notorious criminal in the island's modern history.

Anyway, after the kidnap, the captors demanded $5 million in ransom and sent photos of the victim, bound with tape and with severed finger attached, to Bai. They later murdered the teenage girl and dumped the body in a ditch, while her mother was still trying to raise the money.

But according to Denny Roy in his book "Taiwan A Political History", there were other equally high-profile exploits by Chen and his associates. One of them was taking the South African military attache Colonel McGill Alexander and his family, including an infant Taiwanese foster child, hostage.

During the 24-hour standoff, Alexander and his 22 year-old daughter, who was used as a human shield by Chen, sustained bullet wounds.

Unsurprisingly, and in the aftermath of the incident, Taipei offered the South African government a formal apology. Chen was later arrested and shot by a firing squad in October 1999.

But it was interesting (or more likely it is due to my lack of understanding of diplomatic protocol) that exactly one year before the hostage incident took place, Pretoria had already switched diplomatic recognition to China. So how come the military attache was still in Taipei? Hmm.

Chinese Leadership's Political Jockeying During SARS

More on the Chinese leadership's behind-the-scenes maneuverings during the 2003 SARS crisis.

It was apparent then that information on SARS patients, especially those in military hospitals, were hard to come by, and even harder to verify. But what was less apparent was that such intransparencies were due to moves undertaken by Jiang Zemin (江泽民) and his associates.

According to Kenneth Liberthal, Jiang partisans held the top positions in both Guangdong (广东) province, where SARS initially appeared, and in the Ministry of Health. "In both places, they systematically underplayed the seriousness of the SARS crisis. Jiang also controlled the military and military hospitals even in the capital and refused to provide the information on their SARS patients that the civilian and international health authorities required." (Kenneth Liberthal, Governing China, From Revolution Through Reform)

The first purge of top officials apparently removed Jiang's protege Zhang Wenkang (张文康) as Minister of Health, but in order to strike a "factional balance", the purge did not remove the Guangdong provincial leader. Rather, the new mayor of Beijing, a Hu Jintao (胡锦涛) supporter, was fired. Why? Though Liberthal did not explain, I guess it has to do with the fact that there were also a large number of SARS cases in Beijing. But with an even higher number of SARS cases in Guangdong, surely the first one to be fired should be the Guangdong leader.

But nevertheless, according to Liberthal, both Hu and Wen Jiabao (温家宝) seized on the epidemic to place key people who were proteges of former Premier Zhu Rongji (朱镕基) in charge of anti-epidemic efforts, and to nudge Jiang supporters into the background.

How credible are these accounts? Only God knows. But I guess the lack of clear answers is what makes China-watching so interesting.

Qing China's Betrayal of Taiwan in 1895

Again, this is my bias take on Taiwan history.

In his book "Taiwan: Nation State or Province?", John F. Copper noted that when Taiwan's sovereignty was transferred to Japan in 1895, there were massive protests from local leaders who tried to establish the Republic of Taiwan, or Asia's first republic. But because the island had no local government in mounting a meaningful challenge, and due to its internal ethnic divisions, many decided that opposing Japan was futile.

The situation was worsened by the inaction of the Qing authorities, who were too weak and faced too numerous challenges that it "did nothing to aid the resistance" in Taiwan. This eventually drove Taiwanese into giving up any hope of help from China, and many expressed bitterness about China's "betrayal".

Of course in the overall scheme of things at that time, Taiwan was not exactly high on the radars of the Qing rulers. And it'd take a thesis to explain why Taiwan eventually emerged as one of the most important domestic and foreign policy issues for China.

But as for China's betrayal, I am more inclined to see the situation not so much as a betrayal, but as a helpless and impoverished father giving up his (youngest, most distant, and perhaps least loved) child in desperation. It is natural for the child to harbor a sense of resentment as he/she grows up. But there is no denying the child's parentage and the blood ties between the two.

Not Talking to the DPRK is a fatal mistake

I deeply, wholeheartedly and enthusiastically embraced elements of the "grand bargain" as spelt out by O'Hanlon and Mochizuki. (Michael O'Hanlon and Mike Mochizuki, "Toward a Grand Bargain with North Korea", The Washington Quarterly 26.4, 2003)

I only have one minor but not inconsequential reservation, and that is, how is the deal to be carried out when both the United States and North Korea are not talking directly to each other?

Elements of the "grand bargain" which I found appealing include allowing Pyongyang to retain some of its conventional weapons, while concurrently dealing with the three fundamental areas of security, economic recovery, and international engagement/diplomatic recognition for North Korea.

But it seems that unless the next US administration comes in with a new North Korean policy, it is unlikely that the present Bush administration will alter its policy of not talking one-on-one with Pyongyang, which I think is a fatal mistake with far-reaching consequences. Talking to Pyongyang will not be giving in to blackmail. Rather, it will be answering to a plea for help from a tiny isolationist state whose only inducement in getting the US to come to the negotiating table is, unfortunately, its arsenal of nuclear weapons.

Talking to the DPRK directly - while unleashing elements of the "grand bargain" - would also allow Pyongyang to stop obsessing about its security, and allow the regime to return to its by-now-stalled experiment of emulating China's economic opening up process, albeit in a slower and incremental way, or a case of "building Socialism with North Korean Characteristics."

While some would argue that Bush's policy is no better or worse than Clinton's policies (which had failed to deliver substantive, durable and comprehensive results), I am more inclined to the view that the North Korean problem had become more intractable under the Bush administration. It does not help when North Korea is labeled "an axis of evil", and Kim Jong-II was called "a tyrant" and "a pygmy." Bush even once blurted out "I loathe Kim Jong-II" while shouting and waving his finger in the air.

As Nicholas Eberstadt had pointed out in another article (Alternative Futures of the Korean Peninsula, Strategic Asia 2004-5), the only proactive thing that Washington had done was to initiate the multinational Proliferation Security Initiative (PSI) for interdicting North Korea's contraband abroad.

Which is why I absolutely had to applaud former Secretary of State Madeleine Albright when she recently pointed out that there were at least no nuclear crises, and no test firings (whether successful or otherwise) of nuclear missiles during the Clinton administration. Of course, relations between Washington and Pyongyang were not exactly lovey-dovey then, but at least the two sides were not trying to get at each other's neck.

Lee Teng-hui and the Dalai Lama

As the saying goes, birds of the same feathers flock together.

In this case, birds of the same "I-am-not-part-of-China" and "ewe...-don't-lump-me-as-part-of-China" flock.

In 1997, then Taiwanese President Lee Teng-hui (李登辉) hosted a visit by the Dalai Lama (达赖喇嘛). While the reasons behind the visit were complex, suffice to say that Lee was riding on a popularity wave after his resounding electoral victory a year earlier, and didn't care about poking Beijing in the eye.

And while there is no question about Beijing's sentiments for the Tibetan spiritual leader, it is interesting to read in Denny Roy's "Taiwan A Political History" that many conservatives in Taiwan at that time also despised the Dalai Lama, though Roy did not elaborate why.

I wonder about the reasons for the despise. Was it because the spiritual leader was a "splittist"? Was it because he further complicated Taiwan's foreign relations at that point in time? Or was it because the Dalai Lama, according to media tycoon Rupert Murdoch, shuffles around in Gucci (or was it Prada) sandals?

Jiang Zemin's Role During the SARS Crisis

During the SARS crisis in China in 2003, both President Hu Jintao (胡锦涛) and Prime Minister Wen Jiabao (温家宝) had called for honest reporting about SARS and its impact. That much I knew when I was in the thick of the crisis.

But what was less apparent to me then was that the two top leaders' efforts were somewhat thwarted by Jiang Zemin (江泽民) and his followers who sent out directives to make sure that the media was not able "to gain greater press freedom." It seemed that Jiang and followers were trying "to reassert their continued relevance". (Tony Saich, Governance and Politics of China)

According to Saich, this interference by Jiang, coupled with two other incidents, weakened Jiang's position.

The first was the delayed announcement that 70 Chinese sailors had died in a submarine accident when Jiang was chairman of the Central Military Commission.

Did it weaken Jiang? Maybe. Anyway, I thought the delayed announcement was a relic of the communist past - where bad news were not immediately announced until more "opportune" moments.

The second incident was the Shanghai corruption scandal involving Zhou Zhengyi (or Chou Cheng Ngai, 周正毅), who among other things, used local connections to obtain illegal loans. "No one has suggested that Jiang is involved," Saich wrote, "but the fact that it had taken place in Shanghai, his bailiwick, and must have been known to some of the proteges does not reflect well."

Again, did it weaken Jiang? Even if so, the linkage to Jiang and his associates is too tenuous and conjectural.

Seeing Zhao Ziyang in a Different Light

It is often easy to feel for the underdog, but sometimes one wonders if an underdog is really an underdog.

Take former Chinese Communist Party General Secretary Zhao Ziyang (赵紫阳). Since he was under house arrest in 1989 after sympathizing with student demonstrators, and until his death in January 2005, the image that many had of Zhao was one of a progressive leader who happened to be on the wrong side of the political fence.

But according to Kenneth Liberthal, the student demonstrations per se were not the only reason for Zhao's eventual removal from office. Liberthal argued that the demonstrations merely played into elite politics in Beijing, and that by the spring of 1989, Zhao already knew that his days in office were numbered and that he would eventually be made "a scapegoat for the country's economic difficulties." (Kenneth Liberthal, Governing China: From Revolution Through Reform).

The reason why Zhao was not removed earlier was because the Chinese leadership did not want to carry out reshuffles just prior to the visit of then Soviet leader Mikhail Gorbachev. But Zhao knew he was in "serious political trouble", and that he would remain in office until at least "a decent interval" after the Gorbachev visit.

Hence, it seemed that Zhao threw in his lot with the students only because he knew there was nothing much to lose.

Indeed, Liberthal argued that Zhao's sympathies for the students were totally unexpected, given Zhao's support for neo-authoritarianism, which supported the idea that the best path to successful reform lies in having a strong autocratic leader who would use his power to implement changes. The idea was supposed to lay the groundwork for Zhao to become an autocratic leader in the event that he succeeds Deng Xiaoping (邓小平) as paramount leader.

Then, there were also the alleged corruption scandals involving Zhao's sons in Guangdong (广东), which had also made Zhao increasingly unpopular.

So was Zhao a hero or just another statesman who had to pay a price for his follies? As with most things in China, there are usually no clear nor satisfactory answers.

Japanese Postmasters

In my biased and uninformed opinion, postmasters are a spoilt and over-indulged group in Japan.

For instance, part of the political clout that postmasters possess are said to have derived from their ability to rally voters in support of the ruling Liberal Democratic Party.

But in an article by Patricia MacLachlan, postmasters were described as not having "any influence over the voting decisions of their employees, the vast majority of whom have gravitated toward the Socialist Party or, since the mid-1990s, the Democratic Party." (Patricia MacLachlan, "Post Office Politics in Modern Japan: The Postmasters, Iron Triangles, and the Limits of Reform, Journal of Japanese Studies 30 (2004)

So while postmasters still have some semblance of influence over the voting decisions of the locals in their communities, it seems to me that their overall power is not commensurate with the kind of attention given to them by the LDP.

MacLachlan also wrote about the 1948 enactment of a law that turned postmasters into regular civil servants. But postmasters were apparently unhappy about the law and wanted to be known as “special public servants” instead so that they could continue to participate in electoral activities.

I do not know if this is unique to Japan, but it sounds like “brattish” behavior to me, a case of wanting your cake and eating it.

For those who felt that electoral participation (and with it, their social standing in society) was more important, surely they could choose to opt out of being postmasters. After all, given the various sacrifices and inconveniences, not to mention the low pay, as outlined by MacLachlan, of being a postmaster, it does not sound like a whole lot of fun being a postmaster in those days.

Chinese Buildings Resemble "Inverted Public Lavatories"?

Due to my love-hate relationship with China, I usually do not defend criticisms against the Middle Kingdom, some of which are perhaps justified.

But I draw the line at rudeness, bordering on obnoxiousness.

Such as the description of buildings constructed in the late 1990s in Kunming (昆明) for the International Flower Exhibition.

Deriding the local authorities for demolishing the old to make way for the new (which incidentally is nothing new in China or anywhere else for that matter) Tony Saich wrote:

"The new buildings represented the future and the modern. Unfortunately, to western eyes, the building material of choice ... is white tile, making most buildings look like inverted public lavatories covered with opaque deep sea-blue glass." (Tony Saich, Governance and Politics of China)

First, aesthetic is subjective, if you don't already know, Professor Saich, especially when it trancends cultures. And besides, I have been to Kunming and saw those very buildings for myself. While I won't throw accolades at the architects, neither do I think they look like "inverted public lavatories". The description was just in poor taste, if not downright insensitive and degrading.

Chinese Socialist Omelet

Some writing are just so good that I cannot resist admiring, and in this case, chuckling over and then appropriating them.

Such as those by Kenneth Lieberthal when he wrote about Chinese politics during the period 1956-57, From Success to Crisis. (Kenneth Liberthal, "Governing China From Revolution Through Reform).

He wrote: "The new Beijing elite may have broken a lot of eggs to make their socialist omelet, but numerous Chinese found this dish far more palatable than the bitterness they had been forced to eat for many years. In Mao Zedong's own words, China had "stood up" internationally and had recaptured a sense of unity under an ideologically strong government at home."

Love the idea of a socialist omelet! Though perhaps in this case it might be more appropriate to speak of breaking lots of eggs to make a Chinese pancake, or a Hong Kong-style "tarn tart" (蛋撻, or egg tart)?

Speaking of which, I really miss the melt-in-your-mouth Portuguese-style egg tarts popular in Hong Kong and Macau in the late 90s. Are they still sold everywhere in those two Special Administrative Regions these days?

The Legacy of the Chinese Revolution

I've always thought that like other communists elsewhere, the Chinese communists came to power not knowing how to handle the complexities of running a state.

Not so it seems.

According to Frederick C. Teiwes, the CCP came to power with extensive experience in running substantial quasi-states. Such experience, he noted, went back more than two decades to the Jinggangshan (景岗山) and other base areas during the southern phase of the revolution, and during the anti-Japanese war involving territories in north and east China populated by upward of 100 million people.

"While such areas were tenuously held and subject to significant fluctuations in the extent of control, they nevertheless did provide training in the tasks of government for a substantial corps of cadres who continued in their own areas or were dispatched to other regions with the nationwide takeover in 1949." (Frederick C. Teiwes, "The Maoist State" in "The Modern Chinese State" Ed David Shambaugh)

Thus, when the CCP entered cities and towns all over the country, it came with at least a core of seasoned officials rather than "impractical revolutionaries."

Korean Poet Kim Chiha

I have never been a great fan of poetry but nevertheless still picked up a collection of poems by Korean poet Kim Chiha.

Never a great fan coz unless the poems are straight-forward and easily understood, the subtlety will probably be lost on me.

But thankfully, Kim Chiha's poems do not fall into this clueless category, especially his scathing criticism of the then Korean establishment in his poem "Five Thieves".

Indeed, the satire is so "in-your-face" that it cannot be missed, such as referring to the different categories of officials as "Plutocrat", "Aristocrat", "Technocrat", "Autocrat" or "Bureaucrat", and overall describing them as "sonuvabitch", at least according to the translation, and "respectable thieves".

There were also many other non-subtle allegations such as:

"His favorite hobby is to keep concubines
and to beget children day and night.
By offering his numerous daughters
as concubines to men holding swords,
he easily winnows out top secrets.
Therefore all the best deals end up in his lap.
With only a $5 million bid he steals
something worth a $1 billion."

"Empty slogans flow from his forked tongue:
It's time for revolution and change.
Change old evils into new ones,
Change unlawful money-making,
and make money-making itself unlawful,
Change illegal elections,
and make elections themselves illegal."

"On his desk lie huge files of paper
and under the desk lie bundles of bank notes.
He is a spaniel to his superiors and
a hound to his inferiors"

"Export more goods, even if we die of hunger,
Produce more goods, even if they don't sell.
Let's build a bridge over the Straits of Korea
with the bones of the people who starved to death."

His other poems are chillingly haunting, yet depressing, such as:

Never will you return
"If I cry, eyes glaring, and endure the pain
Of fingernails plucked out and flesh ripped apart
Can my shriveled soul survive
And stand on the road again?"

Hell 2
"Here, unless you wear gloves,
You cannot even hold another's hands
Because they become daggers in your palm.

Dust falls on your chest
And silently petrifies."

But there are also simply yet uplifting ones, such as:

New Spring 6
"Bees
Visit flowers,

And children
Play in the park.

These are too much for me
And my heart leaps
At the wonder of all living things."

New Spring 4
"I hold the universe
In my placid heart.

Somewhere under the tree
I hear the budding sound of life
And a bird's song."

Taiwanese Writer Bo Yang

One Chinese writer who had the greatest influence on me as a 17-year old was Bo Yang (柏扬). I remember reading his book "The Ugly Chinese" (丑陋的中国人) during a Chinese class. When caught, the teacher did not reprimand me. Instead she just sighed, probably inwardly happy that at least I was reading a Chinese book.

Bo Yang's real name is Kuo Yi-tung (or Guo Yidong, 郭衣洞), which is really strange, as "Yi" in this case means "clothes" and "dong" "holes."

In his book "Taiwan A Political History", Denny Roy mentioned that Bo Yang was arrested in March 1968 over a newspaper cartoon of Chiang Kai-shek. He was then tried before a military court and accused of being a Communist agent.

"The evidence for this charge was that Kuo's girlfriend had attempted to learn from a military officer how many bicycles were in his regiment, and that Kuo had advised one of his friends to remain in mainland China after it fell to the Communists rather than flee to Taiwan," Roy wrote.

He was later sentenced to an 18-year sentence, of which he served nine years before being released.

As a teen, Bo Yang's books and experiences fascinated me. But even though I sympathized with his plight, I've begun to, over the years, assess him in a more critical light, and have come to the conclusion that he was just being unconstructively critical of everything Chinese. But at least he has to be credited for waking me to the many negative aspects of Chinese culture, thinking, and mentality.

Dual Social Responsibility System in Japan?

In his book "Japan Remodeled, How Government and Industry are Reforming Japanese Capitalism", Steven K. Vogel profiled several corporate case studies to illustrate that there is no lack of Japanese firms which are keen to challenge the country's established corporate norms.

Such as Shinsei Bank whose corporate policies were said to have "infuriated government officials, unnerved its own employees, and alienated many potential business partners." Among other things, the Bank refused to roll over credit to some of its most troubled borrowers. In June 2000, it pulled out of a "debt-forgiveness scheme" to rescue Sogo, hence contributing to the subsequent failure of the major departmental store.

Another company cited was telecommunications newcomer Hikari Tsushin which developed a business model that relied on speedy decisions, hard work, and generous rewards for performance, and not on long-term relationships with banks and other business partners. As the firm pointed out, "we are unique, we are the anti-system firm!"

While such dare-to-be-different Japanese firms exist, it also seems that the authorities sometimes stymie their efforts, by citing the importance of “social responsibility.” For instance, Shinsei Bank was ordered to keep lending to certain clients, since the Bank had the "obligation" to play a public interest role.

Hence, I wonder if it is possible for Japan to devise a dual social responsibility system, meaning that older and more established companies are compelled to play by the old rules, while newer and unconventional firms, particularly those from emerging industries, be allowed to be the mavericks that they truly are.

Of course this might throw up the question of fairness and double standards, but might it not be something worth considering? If so, why would it work? And if not, why not?

Rehabilitating Yoshida

Having painted Yoshida Shigeru in a less-than-positive light yesterday, I shall attempt to mend my errand ways.

After all, he was the one of the most amazing and outstanding Japanese premiers in post-war Japan, and his name and ideas were said to have evolved into "a yardstick against which all would measure their own successes and failures." (Richard J Samuels, Machiavelli's Children - Leaders and Their Legacies in Italy and Japan)

And though accused by some for having sold out to the United States, historians noted that Yoshida "met America's needs but never nestled complacently in its pockets."

Overall, he was described by John Dower as "virtually a one-man show: now the sword swallower, now the contortionist, now the Houdini who made elephants appear and disappear ... Under his government, Article 9 was blown up like a balloon, twisted like a pretzel, kneaded like plasticene. In the end, however, it still remained unamended, and its survival was as significant as its mutilation." (John Dower, Empire and Aftermath: Yoshida Shigeru and the Japanese Experience 1878 - 1954)

Hmm, maybe that was a back-handed rehabilitation?

Yoshida Shigeru and Syngman Rhee

Yoshida Shigeru and Syngman Rhee were certainly two of the key players during the initial discussions in resuming Japan-South Korean relations in the aftermath of WWII, Japanese colonization of Korea, and the Korean War.

Of course, the two leaders hated and despised each other. And without U.S. incentives and pressure, the two would probably not have met, let alone initiate the process of post-war normalization.

Syngman Rhee was quite a character, fervent anti-communist, and strongly nationalistic.

Yoshida Shigeru, on the other, had been described by Douglas MacArthur as "monumentally lazy and politically inept." (T.J. Pempel, Regime Shift - Comparative Dynamics of the Japanese Political Economy)

Okay, so I cheer more for the Koreans. Crucify me.

What has Burma got to do with U.S.-Korea Relations?

Age is making me forgetful, and frivolous.

Attended the opening of a U.S.-Korean Relations conference last Friday, but can't seem to remember much of what had been said by the two keynote speakers.

Vaguely remember one of them - South Korean ambassador to the U.S. Lee Tae-sik - saying that the recent North Korean nuclear tests were "provocative," and that Pyongyang had chosen to take "the wrong path."

Overall, he must have said something to the effect that despite the crisis, the U.S.-Korean alliance had not been challenged, is still going strong, etc, etc, you know, the usual diplomatic niceties you expect to hear at such conferences.

But what I *do* remember were the self-deprecating comments Ambassador Lee made at the beginning of his address. He said speeches made by Korean diplomats were usually devoid of substance, and that he was sorry that the participants had to listen to his "propaganda."

He can't be more right. I remembered little of what he had said. But at least his self-deprecating disposition made an impression on me.

Oh wait, there is another thing I remember, and it came from one of the paper presenters, David Steinberg from Georgetown University. He said the United States wanted to overthrow Burma (or Myanmar) because Rangoon is the weakest link in Washington's desire to contain China.

Maybe I have selective amnesia. Or maybe I have an antennae that picks up only random information these days.

Regionalism and Regionalization

Ever wondered what would happen if Lee Kuan Yew is the leader of China, Kim Dae-jung the leader of Japan, and Mahathir Mohamad the leader of India? A very different Asia, perhaps.

Paul Evans wrote that the former leaders of Singapore, South Korea and Malaysia were the "principal exponents of East Asian thinking, but unlike Charles de Gaulle and Konrad Adenauer, they do not lead major powers." (Paul Evans, "Between Regionalism and Regionalization: Policy Networks and the Nascent East Asian Institutional Identity" in "Remapping East Asia The Construction of a Region" Ed. T.J. Pempel)

While writing about the less-developed state of institutional integration in Asia, Evans quoted Korean academic Han Sung-Joo (also former South Korean ambassador to the U.S.) as saying that although institutionalization is "undeveloped, regionalism in Asia is complicated enough". Can't help but chuckle at that semi-ironic comment.

Even though the process of institutionalization is gradual and often an unwieldy one, Evans at least offered a tinge of optimism.

"The slow march to building more effective institutions and identity is not proceeding on a single track. In the scribblings and imaginings of a handful of cosmopolitan Asian intellectuals and political leaders are the seeds of a deeper East Asian regionalism. The genius of the process is its pragmatism and realism. Its failing is that it has not yet captured the support of Asian publics or elites in looking beyond the differences of the past and toward a poststatist agenda that is at least a generation away."

In Defence of Corruption - The He Shen View

This is my third reference to the Chinese drama serial Ji Xiaolan (铁齿铜牙纪晓岚) that I am aware that I run the risk of sounding like a marketing agent for the mainland Chinese series.

But anyway, my entry on the series yesterday reminded me of a memorable scene between Ji Xiaolan (纪晓岚) and He Shen (和珅) in the serial.

Apparently, Ji confronted He over the latter's involvement and knowledge of a huge corruption scandal where the central government's delivery of food supplies to disaster-striken areas were pocketed by corrupted officials.

During the confrontation, Ji accused He of being greedy, for ignoring the plight of the ordinary people, and of not performing the duties that the central government had entrusted him. And He's retort, I thought, was truly exceptional.

He argued that to feed the starving masses, he first had to feed his officials, and only when the officials are fed, satisfied and happy, could he then rely on these same officials to feed the masses.

He argued that the Chinese written word for official (or guan - 官) has two mouths, adding that "If I don't feed the upper mouth, what makes you think I can feed the lower mouth?"

And when accused of selling food supplies at a high price and then purchasing animal feed at a lower price to feed the people, He's reply was equally robust.

He asked, "my dear Minister Ji, have you even seen how people looked like when they are about to starve to death?". Ji said no. And He answered: "Well, when they are about to starve to death, they are no different from animals."

When Ji protested that that was no way to talk about humans, He asked Ji : "Have you heard of the term "exchanging babies for food?" Again, Ji said no. And He said, "I have been to areas where people are so hungry that they exchange their children for food. Have you ever witnessed with your own eyes misery like that? Do you know what it means to have something to eat, regardless of what that something is? Have you seen people so hungry that they have to resort to eating grass, tree bark and even dirt?" Again, Ji's answer was no.

He explained that by selling one sack of food intended for starving people, he could exchange that sack of human food for three bags of animal feed. And when when people are dying, it made no difference if they are fed animal feed or human food. And with three bags of animal feed, you can save more people than you otherwise could with just one bag of human food!

You know, even though corruption should never be celebrated, He Shen's argument made me looked at the issue in a whole new light. Of course, I love Ji Xiaolan for his righteousness and for his refusal to accept corruption in whatever form or extent.

But in that scene, I saw for myself the confrontation between a realist and an idealist. And it made me pondered once again the meaning of right and wrong in a world which is hardly black and white, but rather with lots of shades of grey in between.

Corrupted Chinese Official He Shen

Again, I am relieved to know that I haven't been watching too many Chinese drama serial, in particular the Ji Xiaolan series (铁齿铜牙纪晓岚). It is good to know that Qing official He Shen (和珅), one of the main protagonists in the show, really existed in history.

In the drama, Ji Xiaolan and He Shen were constantly at loggerheads with one another, the proverbial good against evil, and the upright versus the corrupted. They waged their battle mainly through political maneuverings, as well as words and poems, and petitions to the emperor.

Anyway, according to Kenneth Lieberthal, He Shen (1750-99) served as aide to Qianlong emperor from 1776 to 1796, and was put in charge of revenues and personnel. Even though He Shen was supposed to suppress the White Lotus Rebellion in central and western China, he and his friends "siphoned off so much money and so corrupted the bureaucracy that the rebellion continued until after Qianlong's death and He Shen's removal," (Kenneth Lieberthal, Governing China From Revolution Through Reform).

After Qianlong died, his successor Jiaqing forced He Shen to commit suicide, and He's estate and assets were reportedly confiscated. It was estimated that He embezzled a total of over $1.5 billion dollars, "in modern money", or the equivalent of that amount in the year 2004.

Of course I have no idea how much money that is. Except that I will never ever possess even an itsy-bitsy fraction of it.

Having said that, Wang Gang (王刚), the actor who played He Shen was truly excellent. He portrayed evil, deception and treachery so dreadfully well that he made me want to pick up my kitchen knife and throw it at him.

What is Japan's New Paradigm?

Richard Katz and other analysts had derided various aspects of Japan’s economic and political trajectory, using catch phrases such as “governance by negotiations”, “bargaining democracy” and “creative conservatism.”

Interest groups were described as “Lilliputians” who had “hog-tie the Gulliver of national interest in millions of tiny threads.” (Richard Katz, "The System that Soured: Toward a New Paradigm to Guide Japan Policy, Washington Quarterly Vol 21 No 4 (Autumn 1998)

While I can offer no prescription for Japan's economic malaise, and do agree that Japan needs to be reformed, I am not sure if adopting free market principles of profit-maximization, deregulation, and the whole hog of laissez-faire principles is the only way out.

After all, from a socialist democratic point of view, some of the things that Katz had derided (such as government policy being "continually confronted with the trade-off between promoting winners and compensating losers, between producing wealth and distributing it") can be an extremely attractive option to some societies that might be willing to sacrifice economic efficiency in exchange for greater and more enduring social stability.

Deng Xiaoping's son Deng Pufang

Many people do know that former Chinese paramount leader Deng Xiaoping's eldest son was pushed out of a building during the Cultural Revolution. Subsequently, Deng Pufang became paralyzed from the waist down, and had to be confined to a wheelchair for life.

Unfortunate for him, but a boon for the countless handicapped people in the country.

In interviews with many handicapped associations a few years ago, one of the most common refrain I heard was that "it was a good thing that Deng Pufang is also handicapped," as this had raised awareness of the plight of, as well as highlighted the difficulties and discrimination faced by the handicapped.

Having the younger Deng as a patron (especially as chairman of the All China Handicapped Federation) had also helped the country divert more resources, and put in place legislation that had subsequently improved the lives of the handicapped in general. But having said that, lots more of course, remains to be done.

But here, it is at least a clear case of putting one's position as a "princeling" to good use.

Beijing Police in the 1920s

It is eye-opening to read that in the early 1920s, the police system in Beijing exhibited exemplary behavior which "impressed many foreigners."

The police numbered almost 10,000 uniformed men, or about 12 policemen for every thousand residents, which was a ratio higher than that of London, Paris and Berlin. (Ramon H Myers, "The Nationalist State" in "The Modern Chinese State" Ed David Shambaugh).

Furthermore, the city's police budget was "on a par with a regular national ministry in the 1920s." Beijing's police were not only well-paid, trained and disciplined, they also operated to preserve the peace and social harmony and "to win the respect and praise of the capital's citizens."

Traits that can, and should be emulated by the present day Beijing police force. Though admittedly, the force has been doing a credible job amid rapid and challenging social changes.

In Defense of "Talking Shop"

Much ink has been spilled about the ineffectual nature of the ASEAN Regional Forum (ARF) and these misgivings are understandable. The perception of ARF being an "obese assembly bloated with pompous rigidity" is also not without justification.

As a Jakarta Post editorial (July 31 2006) rightly pointed out, talk is cheap. But the corollary is that, while talk might indeed be cheap, not talking might turn out to be evidently more costly in the long run.

While I am not trying to come across as an apologist for the present limited achievements of the ARF, I am of the view that talking is still preferable to not talking, and talking is better than not knowing in further depth the views and standpoint of others. Not talking merely allows suspicion and distrust to build up, while face-to-face exchanges of security concerns can certainly help to reduce apprehensions and anxieties. Talking can also prevent member states from needlessly second-guessing the security intentions of their counterparts.

While "talking shop" should not be celebrated, neither should it be scoffed at or undermined.

Besides, some observers had also pointed out that the mere act of talking had raised the level of comfort within and allowed members states to raise otherwise taboo subjects.

The aim of the ARF was to build trust, confidence and ensure a more predictable pattern of relationships. Having largely achieved that, it is time to move on to playing the role of a more effective multi-lateral security forum with perhaps a tad more "bite".

Chinese Imperial Confidential Memorials

I am relieved to read about the existence of an imperial Chinese system whereby confidential memorials (zouben - 奏本) which bypassed the Grand Secretariat were able to reach the Emperor directly.

Said to have begun under Emperor Kangxi (康熙) and formalized under Emperor Yongzheng (雍正), the system supposedly provided the Emperor with detailed information on events and trends, as well as allow him to assert better control over the central bureaucracy. (H. Lyman Miller, "The Late Imperial Chinese State", in "The Modern Chinese State" Ed. David Shambaugh)

Relieved because sometimes I cannot be sure that information I've gleaned from watching Chinese drama serial - whether produced in Hong Kong or China - are historically accurate.

The last time I heard about "zouben" was in the mainland Chinese drama serial Ji Xiaolan (铁齿铜牙纪晓岚 - tiechi tongya Ji Xiaolan) which was immensely popular on the mainland a few years ago.

It's a relief to know that "zouben" really existed, and that I haven't been watching too much Ji Xiaolan, after all.

Incidentally, the Ji Xiaolan series - intelligent, well-scripted, and full of historical and literary puns - momentarily rekindled my interest in watching drama serials, after a lapse of several years.

I really loved Zhang Guoli's (张国立 who played Ji Xiaolan) wit in the show, and Zhang Tielin's (张铁林 who played the Emperor) deep booming voice.