Taiwan has long been accustomed to Chinese influence operations. Even during the period of martial law (1949-1987) when China was still fighting the tail-end of the Chinese Civil War against Chiang Kai-shek’s (蔣介石) Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT), it used a variety of ways to influence society here.
But since Taiwan became an open and free democracy in the early 1990s, China’s ways have changed: with money and “opportunities” it is trying to sway the minds of people, while through news media and economic means it is attempting to convince the undecided that closer ties with China will bring a better life, and that in any case “re-unification is a foregone conclusion.”
But Taiwanese have built up adequate defenses, and through their own experience under martial law, know that they need to work hard to preserve their hard-won freedom and democracy.
However, in the rest of the Western world, there were less than adequate defenses: since China “opened up” after the Cultural Revolution, the US and Western Europe started a policy of engagement in the hope that economic development in China would bring about political liberalization. By now, it is rather clear that this expectation has been shattered, and that many nations are now readjusting their policies.
But it is also becoming increasingly clear that during these past four decades, the Chinese government has built up an incredibly widespread network of influence operations in many parts of the world. Earlier works on this network in specific countries were Clive Hamilton’s Silent Invasion (2018) on the influence operations in Australia, and Jonathan Manthorpe’s The Claws of the Panda (2019), describing how China had been able to infiltrate the Canadian political system, exerting undue influence on the Canadian government, educational institutions and business.
But now there is a comprehensive work that covers Chinese influence operations in many corners of the world: Hidden Hand, Exposing how the Chinese Communist Party is Reshaping the World, by the same Clive Hamilton, working together with German China scholar Mareike Ohlberg. The result is a rich trove of examples of how the Beijing regime operates is different parts of the world.
Hamilton and Ohlberg do an excellent job in describing how Beijing has organized the activities under a wide umbrella of United Front organizations with rich-sounding names like The China Association for International Friendly Contact, the China Council for the Promotion of Peaceful National Reunification and the US National Association for China’s Peaceful Unification.
An important method used is to influence political elites, and Hamilton and Ohlberg have a separate chapter each for North America, Europe and the periphery, in each case giving a number of examples of how Beijing was able to influence key figures in each region. The book goes into significant detail on how a number of retired politicians and former diplomats sold their soul to the Chinese Communist Party and became a mouthpiece for the repressive regime.
Another chapter highlights the “Party-corporate conglomerate:” Beijing’s often successful efforts to woe Wall Street banks such as Goldman Sachs, Morgan Stanley and the Blackstone Group into doing their bidding, particularly when decisions related to China were impending.
Using the Chinese diaspora and Chinese students studying at overseas universities for their purposes has also been a tool widely used by Beijing: particularly in Australia there were a number of examples where students were mobilized by the embassy or consulate to crash protests by Hong Kong students against the new National Security legislation.
Media is another important battle ground where Beijing has used a variety of means to influence opinions with efforts ranging from suave disinformation to outright censorship: from inserts in the The Washington Post to outright takeover of publications to make the more malleable to the views from Beijing.
During the past couple of years, China has also weaponized diplomacy: through its system of “wolf warriors” its diplomats in various countries as well as Ministry of Foreign Affairs spokespersons, jump at the slightest criticism of repressive behavior by the Chinese state, whether in Tibet, East Turkestan or Hong Kong, and fire off a rapid-fire machine gun of insults and threats against the perceived perpetrators. Instead of creating goodwill, these ambassadors have become point men in the Beijing’s insidious battle of sharp power.
Another chapter relates to Western academia: through a broad campaign using both carrots and sticks, Beijing has used its academic institutions to twist academic opinions in its direction, and suppress discussion of “sensitive” topics such as developments in East Turkestan, Hong Kong and Taiwan. At the same time, “academic cooperation” is used as a vacuum cleaner to gain access to advanced technologies, especially in science and technology.
Last but not least, the book dedicates a chapter on “reshaping global governance,” highlighting the WHO, the International Civil Aviation Organization (ICOL), Interpol and even the UN itself into pliant groupings which will do little to counter the Chinese narrative designed to reshape these organizations with only one goal in mind: make them subordinate to the PRC’s interests.
The book is an important wake-up call for both Americans and Europeans. It is designed to show how pervasive the influence operations have become, and of course intended to start a comprehensive push-back in order to safeguard not only hard-won values such as freedom and democracy, but also protect the very foundations of the liberal rules-based international order, which are being undermined by China’s actions.
Gerrit van der Wees is a former Dutch diplomat. Together with his Taiwanese wife Mei-chin he published the ‘Taiwan Communique’ from 1980 through 2016. He currently teaches history of Taiwan at George Mason University.
Taiwan has next to no political engagement in Myanmar, either with the ruling military junta nor the dozens of armed groups who’ve in the last five years taken over around two-thirds of the nation’s territory in a sprawling, patchwork civil war. But early last month, the leader of one relatively minor Burmese revolutionary faction, General Nerdah Bomya, who is also an alleged war criminal, made a low key visit to Taipei, where he met with a member of President William Lai’s (賴清德) staff, a retired Taiwanese military official and several academics. “I feel like Taiwan is a good example of
March 2 to March 8 Gunfire rang out along the shore of the frontline island of Lieyu (烈嶼) on a foggy afternoon on March 7, 1987. By the time it was over, about 20 unarmed Vietnamese refugees — men, women, elderly and children — were dead. They were hastily buried, followed by decades of silence. Months later, opposition politicians and journalists tried to uncover what had happened, but conflicting accounts only deepened the confusion. One version suggested that government troops had mistakenly killed their own operatives attempting to return home from Vietnam. The military maintained that the
Taipei Mayor Chiang Wan-an (蔣萬安) announced last week a city policy to get businesses to reduce working hours to seven hours per day for employees with children 12 and under at home. The city promised to subsidize 80 percent of the employees’ wage loss. Taipei can do this, since the Celestial Dragon Kingdom (天龍國), as it is sardonically known to the denizens of Taiwan’s less fortunate regions, has an outsize grip on the government budget. Like most subsidies, this will likely have little effect on Taiwan’s catastrophic birth rates, though it may be a relief to the shrinking number of
Since its formation almost 15 years ago, Kaohsiung rock band Elephant Gym (大象體操) has shattered every assumption about contemporary popular music, and their story is now on screen in a documentary titled More Real Than Dreams. It’s an unlikely success story that says a lot about young people in Taiwan — and beyond. For a start, their sound is analog. In the film, guitarist Tell Chang (張凱翔) proudly says: “There is no AI in our sound.” His sister, bass player KT Chang (張凱婷) is the true frontwoman — less for her singing abilities than for her thunderous sound on the instrument. Fast like
RSS