Steven Spielberg is reportedly teaming up with fellow filmmaker Zhang Yimou (
Parading in front of Chinese President Hu Jintao (胡錦濤) and US President George W. Bush on the South Lawn of the White House, US troops dressed in Continental Army uniforms dating back more than 200 years seemed to project the message that the US could compete with China's heritage -- if not in terms of the length of its written history, then certainly in terms of the depth of its surviving political and philosophical traditions. What could Hu have offered on behalf of China's 80-year communist era in return, other than re-enactments of the masses in a frenzy clutching little red books before tearing each other apart?
As Hu began his speech, a lone Falun Gong protester, pathologist Wang Wenyi (
There could not have been a more fitting incident to demonstrate the basic difference between these two powers. Had Wang the gall to launch her protest on Chinese territory, her fate would have been grim: protracted physical abuse, lengthy incarceration if not execution and -- if Falun Gong propaganda is to be believed -- possibly placed high on a list of compulsory organ donors for good measure. In the US, on the other hand, she will receive much more reasonable punishment if found guilty of "disorderly conduct," and possibly "willingly intimidating or disrupting a foreign official."
The incident is all the more meaningful because of the lack of progress in talks on the trade deficit, revaluation of the yuan, North Korea, Iran and Taiwan. Going into the meeting with Bush, Hu had been toasted by some of the most powerful businesspeople in the world, people who could be relied on not to raise irritating issues such as human rights and aggression toward Taiwan -- because there is no money to be made from such things. But the Falun Gong protest brought Hu back to earth with a thud, and he subsequently found Bush to be considerably less effusive, if more apologetic, toward him than other heads of state.
Hu's trip will be remembered more for symbolism than breakthroughs in bilateral relations, and it is instructive that the two powers could not even agree on the status of the visit -- "official" or "state" -- and that Hu was not thrown a reception down home on Bush's Texas range.
Spielberg and Zhang, as master filmmakers, are as aware as anyone of the power of symbolism in the mass media. There is every chance their mighty talents will be put to use in 2008 in a scenario with more than an echo of the 1936 Berlin Olympics. It would be savagely ironic if the directors of Schindler's List, Munich, The Story of Qiu Ju and To Live were to become unwitting Leni Riefenstahls of the 21st century, though Spielberg may yet have the wisdom to rethink his decision.
But, as events at the White House showed, until such time that professionals such as these contribute to the Chinese Communist Party's survival and actively craft a more user-friendly Chinese nationalism, Hu and his underlings will continue to struggle to understand how to market their image to anyone for whom there is more to life than cultural relativism and conscience-free cash.
A gap appears to be emerging between Washington’s foreign policy elites and the broader American public on how the United States should respond to China’s rise. From my vantage working at a think tank in Washington, DC, and through regular travel around the United States, I increasingly experience two distinct discussions. This divergence — between America’s elite hawkishness and public caution — may become one of the least appreciated and most consequential external factors influencing Taiwan’s security environment in the years ahead. Within the American policy community, the dominant view of China has grown unmistakably tough. Many members of Congress, as
The Hong Kong government on Monday gazetted sweeping amendments to the implementation rules of Article 43 of its National Security Law. There was no legislative debate, no public consultation and no transition period. By the time the ink dried on the gazette, the new powers were already in force. This move effectively bypassed Hong Kong’s Legislative Council. The rules were enacted by the Hong Kong chief executive, in conjunction with the Committee for Safeguarding National Security — a body shielded from judicial review and accountable only to Beijing. What is presented as “procedural refinement” is, in substance, a shift away from
Taiwan no longer wants to merely manufacture the chips that power artificial intelligence (AI). It aims to build the software, platforms and services that run on them. Ten major AI infrastructure projects, a national cloud computing center in Tainan, the sovereign language model Trustworthy AI Dialogue Engine, five targeted industry verticals — from precision medicine to smart agriculture — and the goal of ranking among the world’s top five in computing power by 2040: The roadmap from “Silicon Island” to “Smart Island” is drawn. The question is whether the western plains, where population, industry and farmland are concentrated, have the water and
The shifting geopolitical tectonic plates of this year have placed Beijing in a profound strategic dilemma. As Chinese President Xi Jinping (習近平) prepares for a high-stakes summit with US President Donald Trump, the traditional power dynamics of the China-Japan-US triangle have been destabilized by the diplomatic success of Japanese Prime Minister Sanae Takaichi in Washington. For the Chinese leadership, the anxiety is two-fold: There is a visceral fear of being encircled by a hardened security alliance, and a secondary risk of being left in a vulnerable position by a transactional deal between Washington and Tokyo that might inadvertently empower Japan