China has become the world's excuse for inaction. If there is anything that a government or a business does not want to do, it invokes the Yellow Peril. Raise the minimum wage to US$12 an hour? Not when the Chinese are paid US$12 a year. Cap working time at 48 hours a week? The Chinese are working 48 hours a day. Cut greenhouse gas emissions? The Chinese are building a new power station every nanosecond.
China has become our looking-glass bogeyman: If you behave well, the bogeyman will get you.
As we saw during US President George W. Bush's climate pantomime last week, China the excuse is not the same place as China the country. Bush insists that the US cannot accept mandatory carbon cuts, because China and India would reject them. But while he stuck to his voluntary approach, China and India called for mandatory cuts.
"China" is a projection of the West's worst practices.
I mention this because the Western companies still trading with Myanmar use it as their first and last defense. If we withdraw, they insist, China will fill the gap. It is true that the Chinese government has offered the Burmese generals political protection in return for cheap resources.
In January, for example, China vetoed a UN resolution condemning the junta's human rights record. Three days later it was given lucrative gas concessions in the Bay of Bengal. It is also true that the Chinese government has no interest in promoting democracy abroad. But the more the Burmese junta must rely on a single source of investment and protection, the more vulnerable it becomes. China is not intractable. If Western governments boycotted the Beijing Olympics, it would precipitate the biggest political crisis in that country since 1989.
The businesses still working in Myanmar are having to scrape the barrel of excuses. Even former British prime minister Tony Blair, that bundle of corporate interests in human form, said: "We do not believe that trade is appropriate when the regime continues to suppress the basic human rights of its people."
Explaining his company's decision to pull out of the country, the chief executive officer of Reebok noted that "it's impossible to conduct business in Burma without supporting this regime. In fact, the junta's core funding derives from foreign investment and trade."
As the junta either controls or takes a cut from most of the economy, and as almost half the tax foreign business generates is used to buy arms, any company working in Myanmar is helping to oppress the people.
The travel firms Asean Explorer and Pettitts, which take British tourists round the country in defiance of Aung San Suu Kyi's pleas, both refused to comment when I rang them, then slammed down the phone. Aquatic, a British company that provides services for gas and oil firms, was more polite, but still refused to talk. The tourism companies Audley Travel and Andrew Brock Travel promised to phone me back but failed to do so. But aside from invoking the Chinese bogeyman, each of the others I talked to produced a different justification.
The spokeswoman for Orient Express, a travel company that runs a cruiser on the Irrawaddy river and a hotel in Rangoon, told me that "tourism can be a catalyst for change."
Given that tourism has continued throughout the junta's rule, I asked how effective that catalyst has been.
"There has been very slow progress, but we feel it has helped," she said.
The Ultimate Travel Company explained that: "We feel we just like to offer the people who travel with us a choice. If people want to travel, they can. And really I'd prefer not to enter into a debate about it."
Rolls-Royce, which overhauls engines for Myanmar Airways, a company owned by the state, told me that it operates "in line with UK export licenses ... As long as we are meeting government requirements, that's what we work to. I'm not getting into a debate on this issue. We're doing this to ensure passenger safety."
William Garvey, the boss of the furniture company that bears his name and that works mostly in Burmese teak, admitted that he buys timber "that comes from Rangoon, through government channels." But if he stopped, "a highly likely consequence is that the rate of felling would increase dramatically ... Whatever you may think about the Burmese government, they are still using a sustainable system for extracting teak."
Aren't human rights a component of sustainability?
"In the strict sense, no," Garvey said.
The managing director of Britannic Garden Furniture, which makes its benches from Burmese teak and supplies the royal parks and the Tower of London, told me: "I know it's no excuse to say we don't buy it directly ... You try and get teak from other sources. But it's rubbish ... The government has given us no directive not to trade with Burma."
All these companies have felt some pressure already, thanks to the work of The Burma Campaign UK, which includes them on its "dirty list." But I have stumbled across one Western firm that most Myanmar campaigners appear to have missed. It is run by one of the world's most famous sportsmen, the golfer Gary Player.
Player has made much of his ethical credentials. Next month he will host the Nelson Mandela Invitational golf tournament, whose purpose is "to make a difference in the lives of children." One of his Web sites shows a painting of Player bathed in radiant light and surrounded by smiling children. Former South African president Nelson Mandela stands behind him, lit by the same halo.
Golf, to most of us, looks like a harmless, if mysterious, activity, but in Myanmar it is a powerful symbol of oppression.
Some of the country's courses have been built on land seized from peasant farmers, who were evicted without compensation. Golf is the sport of the generals, who conduct much of their business on the links.
Player's Web site shows him, in 2002, launching the "grand opening" of the golf course he designed, which turned "a 650-acre [263 hectares] rice paddy into The Pride of Myanmar. The golfer's paradise that stands in Myanmar today is said to be living proof that miracles do happen."
I asked his company the following questions. Who owned the land on which the course was constructed? How many people were evicted in order to build it? Was forced labor used in its construction? As Player's company is based in Florida, did the design of this course break US sanctions?
His media spokesman told me: "The Gary Player Group has decided not to comment on any questions regarding Myanmar-Burma."
It seems to me that there is a strong case for asking Mandela to remove his name from Player's tournament.
If, like me, you have been shaking your head over the crushing of the protests, wondering what on earth you can do, I suggest you get on the phone to these companies, demanding, politely that they cut their ties. I sense that it wouldn't take much more pressure to persuade them to pull out. By itself, this won't bring down the regime. But it will cut its sources of income, and allow us to focus on confronting the reality of Chinese investment, rather than the excuse.
Jan. 1 marks a decade since China repealed its one-child policy. Just 10 days before, Peng Peiyun (彭珮雲), who long oversaw the often-brutal enforcement of China’s family-planning rules, died at the age of 96, having never been held accountable for her actions. Obituaries praised Peng for being “reform-minded,” even though, in practice, she only perpetuated an utterly inhumane policy, whose consequences have barely begun to materialize. It was Vice Premier Chen Muhua (陳慕華) who first proposed the one-child policy in 1979, with the endorsement of China’s then-top leaders, Chen Yun (陳雲) and Deng Xiaoping (鄧小平), as a means of avoiding the
The last foreign delegation Nicolas Maduro met before he went to bed Friday night (January 2) was led by China’s top Latin America diplomat. “I had a pleasant meeting with Qiu Xiaoqi (邱小琪), Special Envoy of President Xi Jinping (習近平),” Venezuela’s soon-to-be ex-president tweeted on Telegram, “and we reaffirmed our commitment to the strategic relationship that is progressing and strengthening in various areas for building a multipolar world of development and peace.” Judging by how minutely the Central Intelligence Agency was monitoring Maduro’s every move on Friday, President Trump himself was certainly aware of Maduro’s felicitations to his Chinese guest. Just
A recent piece of international news has drawn surprisingly little attention, yet it deserves far closer scrutiny. German industrial heavyweight Siemens Mobility has reportedly outmaneuvered long-entrenched Chinese competitors in Southeast Asian infrastructure to secure a strategic partnership with Vietnam’s largest private conglomerate, Vingroup. The agreement positions Siemens to participate in the construction of a high-speed rail link between Hanoi and Ha Long Bay. German media were blunt in their assessment: This was not merely a commercial win, but has symbolic significance in “reshaping geopolitical influence.” At first glance, this might look like a routine outcome of corporate bidding. However, placed in
China often describes itself as the natural leader of the global south: a power that respects sovereignty, rejects coercion and offers developing countries an alternative to Western pressure. For years, Venezuela was held up — implicitly and sometimes explicitly — as proof that this model worked. Today, Venezuela is exposing the limits of that claim. Beijing’s response to the latest crisis in Venezuela has been striking not only for its content, but for its tone. Chinese officials have abandoned their usual restrained diplomatic phrasing and adopted language that is unusually direct by Beijing’s standards. The Chinese Ministry of Foreign Affairs described the