BOOK REVIEWS

From Missiles to MissivesPeking and Taipei start talking again: Back to Square One?

Nearly three years after China suspended negotiations with Taiwan, unilaterally and indefinitely, the talks have resumed. In effect, after lengthy bargaining from April 22nd to 24th 1998, China’s Association for Relations Across the Taiwan Strait (ARATS) and the Taiwan’s Straits Exchange Foundation (SEF) have officially reinstated their meetings at deputy secretary general level, Li Yafei for China and Jan Jyh-horng for Taiwan.

We know the reason why Chinese Communist Party leaders had been led to interrupt these discussions: it was the private visit of the Taiwanese President, Lee Teng-hui, to the United States in June 1995. This followed President Clinton’s consent—under pressure from Congress and against State Department advice—to granting a restrictive visa (excluding Washington and New York) to the best-known politician from the world’s least recognised country (only 27 states now recognise Taiwan). We also know what followed: a build-up of tension between the two Chinas, some increasingly provocative sabre-rattling by the People’s Liberation Army in the Taiwan Strait and then, in March 1996, the deployment of America’s Seventh fleet “in the Taiwan area”. After the shock that decision and Lee Teng-hui’s triumphant re-election (with 54% of the vote) caused to mainland China, Peking put off for a long time any formal resumption of contacts between the two unofficial organisations empowered to speak in the name of their respective governments. Even so, the contacts between the People’s Republic and Taiwan were never broken off. And the end result is that an accumulation of specific and recent factors have brought Jiang Zemin to accept the resumption of dialogue with the “rebel island” without Taiwan’s having assented in any way to the preconditions that, for some 30 months, the Communists have been setting. So everything is as though the two Chinese states were taking up where they left off in the spring of 1995. As we shall see, the reality is more complicated: the resumption of dialogue—though without favouring reunification, Peking’s cherished ambition—could eventually lead to negotiations of a more political nature.

Peking deliberately puts off any resumption of dialogue

The earlier talks between the ARATS and the SEF go back to May 1995 in Taipei. Then, the Chinese and Taiwanese delegations, led by the two organisations’ vice-chairmen, Tang Shubei and Chiao Jen-ho, agreed to hold on July 20th of the same year a second summit between Wang Daohan and Koo Chen-fu, the heads of the two bodies. At that meeting, it is likely that three agreements could—and would—have been signed: the repatriation of illegal immigrants, the extradition of criminals, and the resolution of fishing disputes. The cancellation of that summit, half way through June, that is to say just after Lee’s trip to the United States, meant that Peking was calling into question its negotiation strategy with Taipei. The Chinese leaders took account of the limited value of these discussions, bogged down as they were in technicalities and in fact still distant from China’s real objectives; they brought into play two new strategies towards Taiwan, one after another. The first, from July 1995 until March 1996, gave priority to military pressure, by means of manoeuvres—acknowledged or concealed, real or supposed—designed to intimidate Taiwan’s forces. The second strategy, from April 1996 to autumn 1997, was certainly more conciliatory than the first had been during the missile crisis, but it was still clearly a more offensive posture than had existed prior to June 1995. This new strategy was directed along three main lines:

1. To seduce Taiwan’s business community, with the aim not only of increasing Taiwan’s dependence on the mainland but also of establishing on the island, as once in Hong Kong, an influential group that would be increasingly forced to show itself well disposed towards the authorities in Peking.

2. To deepen the international isolation of the Taiwan government by means of check-book diplomacy on the lines of that practised over the past twenty years by Taipei.

3. To offer Taipei, without really meaning it, the opening of “political negotiations” concerning not only the signature of an “end of hostilities accord” but also reunification on the model: “one country-two systems”.

Because, in practice, up until autumn 1997, Communist China set three conditions for a resumption of dialogue that were unacceptable in Taiwan: namely, that Taiwan should go along with Peking’s definition of the principle of One China (the People’s Republic) and with the creation of a “favourable atmosphere”—which meant the abandonment by Taiwan of its pragmatic diplomacy and its policy of rejoining the United Nations. Although the government in Taipei does favour the signing of a peace treaty with Peking and, since the summer of 1996, no longer avoids discussing political questions or the concept of One China, these conditions were in its eyes—and Chinese Communist leaders knew this perfectly well—obstacles to any restoration of dialogue between the two sides. As we shall see, from the end of 1997 onwards, a fourth strategy—if we include the strategy developed by Peking before 1995—would be deployed by Peking: without contradicting points 1 and 2, the strategy was to be rounded off with a charm offensive towards both the United States and Taiwan, thus allowing the talks with Taipei to be resumed.

A slow but foreseeable renewal of contacts

The sticking points outlined above did not, for all that, prevent all contacts between Peking and Taipei in the course of 1996 and 1997. In reality the link was never cut, not even that between the ARATS and the SEF whose junior officials (those beneath the rank of deputy secretary generals) continued to meet from time to time, their fax machines ceaselessly exchanging appropriate messages and technical information. In the same way, senior officials of both governments exchanged unofficial visits with increasing frequency after autumn 1996. Thus, in March 1997, Liu Zhentao of the State Council, the director of the Taiwan Affairs Bureau, went to Taiwan at the head of a delegation of officials from various technical administrations. And the same month, a Chinese leader of ministerial rank, General Wu Shaozu, who was then president of the State Physical Culture and Sports set foot upon Taiwanese soil for the first time since 1949. Trips to China by Taiwanese businessmen and politicians began in August 1996 with the visit of Kao Ching-yuan, the President of the Taiwan’s Chinese Chamber of Commerce and Industry and a member of the Central Standing Committee of the Kuomintang (KMT); as with the officials, many others followed in his footsteps during this period.

Other more concrete and urgent questions, however, favoured an early resumption of contacts; and, by the end of the negotiations held in Hong Kong between unofficial representatives of Peking and Taipei, accords were signed by both governments. They agreed, on the one hand, to open up maritime transshipment links between Fujian and Taiwan (April 1997); and on the other, to stabilise co-operation over air traffic (June 1996) and shipping (May 1997), and to establish administrative links between Hong Kong and Taiwan with a tacit accord on maintaining a Taiwanese mission in the former British colony (1).

Technically speaking, moreover, high level meetings between the SEF and the ARATS resumed, not in April 1998, but a year earlier. Indeed the deputy secretary general of the former, Lee Ching-ping, while visiting China at the head of a delegation of Taiwanese notaries met not only his mainland counterpart, Liu Gangqi, but also Tang Shubei in person—who showed no objection to Lee’s invitation to Liu. Besides, four months later, Liu was in Taiwan leading 30 or so academics attending a conference on modernising China. At that time, Liu took the opportunity to be received by Chiao Jen-ho and by Wu An-chia, one of the vice-chairmen of the Mainland Affairs Council (2). Likewise, Lee Ching-ping went back to China in November as “adviser” to a delegation from the postal administration (3), while the following month a group of economic leaders from Peking, led by An Chengxin, one of the vice-chairmen of the Chinese Council for the Promotion of International Trade (CCPIT), crossed the strait to set up regular co-operation with its Taiwanese equivalent, CETRA (China External Trade Development Council) (4).

All the same, before February 1998, Peking remained deaf to Taipei’s repeated requests for the talks to be formally resumed. And it was at the start of that month, soon after the Chinese New Year, that the Taiwanese Foundation, sensing a changed atmosphere, equipped itself with a new vice-chairman and secretary general: this was Shi Hwei-you, Taiwanese by extraction and known, when he was only Chiao Jen-ho’s deputy, for his frankness, his negotiating talents and for his tendency to switch to the minnan dialect when Peking’s delegates appeared too rigid (5).

“Official dialogue” between unofficial organisations: why did it start again?

Many observers had thought it likely that discussions across the Taiwan Strait would be resumed after Hong Kong was handed over to the PRC on July 1st 1997 and after the Chinese Communist Party held its Fifteenth Congress in September 1997. But other causes, deeper and, in some cases, more immediate, brought Peking to agree to pick up the threads of its dialogue with Peking—in the end, without preconditions.

Clearly, in the eyes of the Chinese authorities, the handover of Hong Kong, and the application of the “one country-two systems” formula in this new “special administrative region”, were likely to reduce Taiwan’s margin for manoeuvre. In the same way, confirmed in his position as China’s number one, Jiang Zemin was in a position by autumn 1997 to launch a certain number of initiatives—and to fly some kites—where the “rebel island” was concerned. However, three other motives—and probably more important ones—induced Peking to start talking to Taipei without further delay. These were the improvement in its relations with Washington, the significant success of Taiwan’s Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) in the November 1997 local elections, and the Asian crisis.

We know that the events that took place in the Taiwan Strait in 1995-96 were in large measure—and perhaps above all else—the manifestation of worsening relations between Peking and Washington. Conversely, any improvement in relations between these two capitals could only enhance the softening of the Chinese Communist Party’s policy towards Taiwan. Although Jiang Zemin’s first official visit to the United States failed to win any new guarantee from the American administration on the Taiwan question, the mere fulfilment of a state visit after some nine years’ waiting by the Chinese made an impact on relations between the two countries—or at least on the official perception of relations between them as publicised by the Chinese and American governments. And these two factors helped considerably in reassuring the Peking authorities as to Bill Clinton’s Chinese—and Taiwanese—policy. So any renewal of discussions across the Taiwan Strait could only follow, in Peking’s view, the restoration of regular and high-level political dialogue between the People’s Republic and the United States. The prospect of the American president’s visit to China in 1998 could only convince Peking of the solidity of this normalisation of relations and, therefore, encourage it to hope that Washington would now agree to exert some pressure on the Taiwanese political class to persuade it of the virtues of Peking’s plans for reunification.

It is true that this favourable development of Sino-American relations has led the Clinton administration to show, not exactly impatience, but at least growing irritation with the Taipei government and, in particular, with the more unrealistic of its claims, such as rejoining the UN, and winning diplomatic recognition by more states. It is also true that, since the winter of 1997-98, the American government has been striving to bring the two Chinas together for talks, and has dispatched an impressive series of (first track and second track) delegations to Taiwan (and to China). But for all that, are the Americans now questioning their commitments to Taiwan, and specifically those written into the Taiwan Relations Act? Have these visitors to the island sought to advance Peking’s cause? In reality, the proliferation of contacts between Washington and Taipei, and the renewed debate in America over maintaining arms sales to Taiwan at their present level, are mainly due to another event: the clear victory of Taiwan’s independence party in the November 1997 local elections, a victory that was largely unexpected both in the United States and in the People’s Republic.

Indeed, the prospect of political defeat for the KMT and of the rise to power of the DPP—either at the time of the legislative elections in December 1998 and 2001, or in the presidential elections of 2000—has pushed the Clinton administration into increasing its pressure, not so much on the Taipei government, as on the DPP itself. Even though the Americans pretended they were inducing the KMT to renew dialogue so as to maintain a formal balance with the similar advice they had been heaping since the previous autumn on Peking, they were seeking above all to contain and, if possible, divert the DPP’s real intentions, which they regard as one of the main potential threats to stability and peace in the strait. This was the essential objective pursued in Taipei by successive delegations of American political VIPs since the beginning of 1998. Among these visitors one should mention the former deputy defense secretary Joseph Nye in January; then a week later William Perry, Defence Secretary at the time of the missile crisis (he had already been to Taiwan in September 1997), accompanied by the former chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff John Shalikashvili; the following month some influential China specialists such as Kenneth Lieberthal and Harry Harding; and then in March, Anthony Lake, the former National Security Adviser to the president.

Yet this pressure of visits also brought to light the differing points of view that now exist in the United States both on policy towards China and on the chances of reaching any conclusion to the political negotiations between Peking and Taipei. On one side, those most favourable to China were proposing “reunificationist packages” based on the one China principle, which were more acceptable to Peking than to any significant political force in Taipei—including the New Party and the KMT. Thus, Nye asked Taiwan officially to give up any lingering desire for independence, in exchange for an American security guarantee against the use of force in the strait and for “more international living space” offered by Peking in the framework of a “one country—two systems” formula that would be relatively more flexible than that offered to Hong Kong. As for Lieberthal, without contradicting these proposals, he suggested that Taiwan should sign up with the People’s Republic to an interim settlement valid for a period of 50 years, at the end of which both sides would start official reunification talks (6). On the other side, the most senior of former American leaders—such as Perry and Lake—did their best simultaneously to reassure the Taiwanese as to American security commitments to Taiwan, while warning the DPP that America’s strategic support and military assistance were not limitless; the two gave a clear reminder to Hsu Hsin-Liang, the then DPP chairman, and Chen Shui-bian, the mayor of Taipei, that any declaration of independence would not only trigger military conflict with the People’s Republic but would deprive Taiwan of any armed intervention by the American administration (7).

The latter message was the better understood as the DPP has for some years shown a progressive moderation on the question of independence: even though it is still opposed to any reunification and though—as Chen Shui-bian took pleasure in reminding several of his guests—it still considers that Taiwan is not part of China (let alone part of the People’s Republic), the DPP is minded to be satisfied with the status quo, and therefore with the institutions and symbols of the Republic of China. Thus it is clearly vital to know for how long the United States will still be able to find an interest in maintaining the division of China into two separate states. The greater moderation that Peking has shown towards Taipei in recent months is likely to encourage Washington in its policy of “good offices without interference” and “friendly advice” to both sides of the Taiwan Strait, free for the present of any “intolerable pressure” upon either of the two governments.

Last November’s local elections in Taiwan have equally obliged the Chinese authorities, also caught out unaware, to make a certain number of re-evaluations (8). In effect, any electoral victory for the DPP on a national scale can only increase the obstacles to reunification. In consequence, the priority for the Chinese Communist Party is now to get started on the talks with Taiwan as well as to begin a process of political negotiations that the DPP, should it come to power, would find difficult to interrupt—particularly in view of pressure from the Americans.

Certainly, just before these elections, Peking had already shown a certain openness towards Taipei by inviting Chiao Jen-ho, then still vice-chairman of the SEF, to attend in December a conference in Xiamen on economic relations across the strait. But it seems that this curious initiative had as its main objective to put Taiwan in the uncomfortable position of being opposed to the renewal of talks. Indeed, when Peking made the invitation public, it already knew that Chiao would turn it down. Since Wang Daohan was to open the conference for the Chinese, Taipei asked for Koo Chen-fu, his opposite number, to be invited to lead the Taiwanese delegation, which Peking refused on the pretext that Koo would be made welcome “at an appropriate time”. In the end, this half-academic and half-diplomatic exercise was cancelled (9). And only in February 1998 did the ARATS officially ask its Taiwanese counterpart for a resumption of talks.

The third reason why the talks have been renewed is the Asian crisis. This factor, though probably less critical than the other two, has all the same induced Peking to show a greater flexibility towards Taiwan. The Chinese economy, apparently spared as it may have been by the recession affecting the whole of East Asia, is suffering nonetheless the repercussions of a crisis that is bound to affect its exports in the region, increase the pressure on its currency and slow its rate of growth (already below 8%) at a time when inward investment is shrinking (down 29% in 1997). All these tendencies are combining in holding back the drive to privatise deficit-ridden state enterprises, a programme launched just after the Fifteenth Congress by the new prime minister, Zhu Rongji, and thus in compromising the achievement of sustained growth in the People’s Republic.

As it happens, Taiwan is one of the main investors in that country, with an estimated holding of between 10% and 20% of the total foreign investment. But whereas the crisis has frozen a number of Taiwanese investment projects in South-East Asia (particularly in Indonesia, where Taiwan has already injected US$13.3 billion (10)) and has fed criticisms of the southwards policy favoured by Lee Teng-hui, it has equally opened up new opportunities for taking an advantageous stake in sectors where profitability has been recently increased by the devaluation of local currencies. That is not the case in the People’s Republic where, because of the government’s present refusal to devalue, the cost of exports has gone up significantly (despite the VAT reductions granted to some industries, such as textiles). As even the Peking authorities have admitted, Taiwanese investments on the mainland have diminished by 40% in 1997 (11). For this reason, by extolling the economic and political stability of their country, the Chinese are trying to dissuade Taiwanese entrepreneurs from investing in southeast Asia (12). For the time being, the Taiwanese are split into two camps: they have invested, over the first four months of 1998, US$468 million in China (+31%) and US$979 million in the rest of the world (+39%) (13). In this regard, without losing sight of its political objectives, the People’s Republic knows that any renewal of talks with Taiwan, and in particular the negotiation of a bilateral protection agreement for Taiwanese investments, could help to swell a financial outflow which the Taipei government continues openly to discourage.

Getting back to the talks: a modest start

It was on February 24th 1998 that the ARATS decided at last to fax to its Taiwanese equivalent a formal letter of invitation to a renewal of the talks. This decision immediately followed a visit to China by a group of “jurists and political scientists” led, once again, by Lee Ching-ping. The visit, which at least remained discreet, gave a glimpse of how complementary channels of communication might be opened up between the two states—channels that would probably be more “political” (see below).

The message of February 24th, though ambiguous and convoluted at best, expressed all the same a striking softening of Peking’s position (14).

“The ARATS has always thought that the opening of political negotiations (zhengzhi tanpan) across the strait was the governing condition for an improvement and a real development of relations between the two sides. The association has been authorised to discuss (xieshang) with your foundation the questions relative to the procedure for organising political negotiations and to go on afterwards to the arrangements for reopening talks (shangtan) on economic and technical questions”…

Even though Peking’s priority is evidently to open political negotiations, the concept of One China is not touched upon. The text goes on:

“The association considers that, before opening the above-mentioned discussions, we must widen the exchanges and contacts between our two organisations so as to improve communications”… “We invite Mr Koo Chen-fu to visit [the mainland] at an appropriate time. Leaders at an appropriate level within our two organisations may, through an exchange of visits, move on to the preparations necessary for this visit”.

Without showing the least trace of eagerness, on March 5th, the SEF replied that it welcomed the invitation addressed to Mr Koo together with the Association’s wish “to widen exchanges, contacts and talks”, but that discussions would have to be taken up on the basis of the consultation system set up at the time of the summit between Koo Chen-fu and Wang Daohan in 1993 (six monthly meetings of vice-chairmen or general secretaries; quarterly meetings of deputy general secretaries) and, “through this channel of communication, good mutual relations should be promoted between the two sides and the interests of both peoples should be guaranteed”. While the Foundation declared itself ready to send an emissary to China to prepare for a new Koo-Wang summit, it made not the slightest allusion to the political negotiations that Peking so desired (15).

On March 11th, the ARATS sent to its Taiwanese counterpart a second letter, which showed an additional softening of its position. Indeed, in this missive, Peking invited a “leader at an appropriate level” from the SEF to lead an economic, cultural or academic delegation to the mainland, either for a visit or to take part in a conference. Peking added, “In the course of this delegation’s visit, we shall also be able to exchange points of view in an unofficial way (feizhengshi) on such questions as the talks leading to political negotiations and the visit of Mr Koo Chen-fu.” (16).

On March 17th, the SEF replied that it agreed to send a delegation of this kind to China “so as to proceed (with the association) to a wide exchange of views on the whole range of questions of common interest relative to the two organisations”, but that beforehand, so as to prepare that visit, it wished to send one of its leaders to the mainland about mid-April (17).

On March 26th, the ARATS asked its counterpart to specify the “concrete subjects for exchanges of view” that it wished to take up in the course of this preparatory visit (18). In reality this was an indirect way of increasing the pressure on Taipei so as to make it back down on sending first to China the “formidable” Shi Hwei-you. In fact, in its reply on 3rd April, Taiwan agreed to restart the talks at deputy secretary general level, specifically to discuss preparations for Koo’s visit (19). And it was only ten days later that the ARATS tentatively suggested dates for the visit—April 21st-22nd (20). On April 17th, Taipei finally proposed sending to China on April 22nd the SEF’s deputy secretary general, Jan Jyh-horng, who is also head of the Mainland Affairs Council’s Research and Planning Department. Peking agreed to this (21).

Poor results

But this exchange of semi-diplomatic correspondence brings to light the persistent gap between the two sides’ negotiators; and accordingly it explains in large part the poor results that these renewed talks between the People’s Republic and Taiwan have achieved.

Certainly, Jan did meet his mainland opposite number, Li Yafei, several times in the course of his visit, and was received by Tang Shubei; he was able to discuss arrangements for future meetings, and such problems as illegal immigration and smuggling. But no agreement was reached on these points. Moreover, the Chinese negotiators refused to tackle most of the discussion themes raised by the Taiwanese—tourism, cultural relations—being interested exclusively in the prospects for a future summit meeting between Koo and Wang. In this regard, Peking apparently wishes “Mr Koo” to travel fairly soon to the mainland, his visit to coincide with the opening of a conference jointly prepared by the two organisations—on the theme, for example, of political negotiations (22). Taipei, on the other hand, hopes that Shi Hwei-you can make the trip there ahead of any second Koo-Wang meeting, for a visit preferably free of any academic artifice. Yet, within days of Jan’s visit to China, the two sides agreed that it would be desirable for the two leaders to meet in the autumn, or in any case before the end of 1998 (23). And on May 12th the SEF invited Li Yafei to pay a return visit to Taiwan: its letter has so far not been replied to (24).

Apart from that, the disagreements between Peking and Taipei are still profound. The mainland capital intends to draw Taiwan into a political negotiation that—though it may not be wholly identified as a negotiation about reunification—will have the broad lines of one (25). The island capital is no longer fundamentally opposed to opening such negotiations, but would define them far more narrowly (an agreement to end hostilities, mutual recognition), and considers that the situation is not yet ripe for it to get under way (26).

For that reason, other channels of communication between the two Chinas are being tested in parallel. The delegation led by Lee Ching-ping, which was in Peking from February 17th to 23rd, illustrates this diversification of discussion channels, which China desires and Taiwan accepts. Indeed, for the first time, Taipei did agree to send a tripartite delegation to the mainland, to open an unofficial but wide-ranging dialogue between the two sides. This group included among others Yen Wan-ching, the director of the DPP’s Department of Chinese Affairs, and Lin Yu-fang, a New Party legislator who specialises in defence problems, together with academics close to the KMT, such as Pao Tsung-ho and Yang Nien-tzu. It was able to raise with frankness the most sensitive subjects (the concept of One China, independence, security, military questions, relations with the United States), with people some of whom had little experience of meeting Taiwanese politicians and intellectuals (generals in dress uniform from the Institute of Strategic Studies of the National Defence University, or from the Research Centre for Peace and Development ). In this way, just before the renewal of semi-official talks between the two states, another dialogue was opening up, freer, but perhaps more fruitful: if it goes ahead, it is more likely to lead eventually to “confidence-building measures” between the two Chinese states and, in particular, between their armed forces (27). These meetings were also an opportunity for Peking to improve its acquaintance with the DPP, whose only spokesman was welcomed, throughout his stay on the mainland, with particular and, at first sight, unexpected consideration (28).

However, this would be to ignore the skill of a new Chinese leadership that officially now is putting “its hopes in the people of Taiwan” (ji xiwang yu Taiwan renmin); since the start of this year Peking seems to wish to reintroduce the most daring proposals ever put forward by Deng Xiaoping, during the best time of his first strategy for “the peaceful reunification of the country” (1979-89).

Putting out feelers: Peking’s new strategy

In effect, in the autumn of 1997, the People’s Republic adopted a fourth strategy towards Taiwan. In November, Peking launched itself into a campaign to seduce—and divide—Taiwan’s political elite, a campaign never before tried since the island became a democracy. Taking up an idea put forward by Deng a decade before, Wang Daohan assured a delegation from the New Party (a Taiwanese group favouring reunification) that, if political negotiations were opened, representatives from both sides could discuss the country’s future name and flag. According to those Taiwanese present, Wang apparently also proposed that the concept of One China was not the same thing as that of the People’s Republic: it referred to “a new China that compatriots from both sides would build together” (liang’an tongbao tong dizao tongyi de xin Zhongguo) (29). Although it was denied afterwards, Wang repeated his proposal in Peking this May, speaking to Lin Yang-kang, former vice-chairman of the KMT and Lee’s unsuccessful rival (though backed by the New Party) in the 1996 presidential elections. Wang told Lin: “Our motherland (zuguo) is not just the mainland of China; our motherland must be the land common to Chinese people on both sides of the strait (30).” Do not these odd remarks suggest that the Chinese Communists are beginning to accept the division of the country and, therefore, to “recognise”—strictly for internal Chinese usage—the Republic of China? By referring to the concept of “motherland”, was Wang not hinting at a connection with German or Korean precedents (one nation—two states)? A certain number of mainland academics have already proposed that, if Taipei gave up all international sovereignty, Peking could agree to allow it “complete autonomy” (31). One of them, Chen Qimao, has even gone as far as to ask the Taiwanese authorities to return to the definition of the concept of One China contained in the Constitution of the Republic of China (1947) and in the “Guidelines for National Unification” (1991) (32).

If that became the condition for opening political negotiations, Taiwan would find itself put in a delicate position. Is this mainland turmoil of excitement, confirmed in mid-May when the Chinese held a national conference on Taiwan attended by the most senior figures in the People’s Republic, capable of bringing together both Chinas, across the strait that separates them? Can it help to set up direct maritime and air links, or indeed the negotiation of an end-of-hostilities accord between Peking and Taipei? Is the People’s Republic not pursuing any other objectives?

The new talks: how far will they go?

Many observers think that Jiang Zemin intends to achieve with Taiwan what Deng Xiaoping achieved with Hong Kong. While it is important for Jiang, as for any number one in China, to grasp this question and officially to give it priority, he has no obligation as to a result. The best proof of that is China’s constant refusal publicly to set any deadline to the reunification process. On the other hand, Peking is worried about developments in Taiwan since the suspension of talks in 1995; it wishes to pursue the improvement of its relations with Washington; and it now thinks that it is high time to rebuild contact with Taipei. At the same time, so as to strengthen its position, in the arm wrestling with Taipei that has been going on since 1949, the People’s Republic is trying to increase the “rebel island’s” isolation, which is not only diplomatic but also political and psychological.

So rather than attempt a reunification that they know is impossible for the present, the aim of Peking’s leaders is, not just to put Taipei on the defensive, but also—by dint of numerous tests of public opinion and charm offensives—gradually to sow grains of doubt and division within Taiwanese society. Their aim is also, a few weeks ahead of President Clinton’s first visit to China, to try progressively to win over the United States and international public opinion to their cause.

Though it has its advantages, this strategy has a certain number of limitations. The recent diplomatic successes won by Peking at Taipei’s expense (no more than 27 states recognise the Republic of China since the defection of the Central African Republic in January and Guinea-Bissau at the end of April) hardly disposes the Taiwanese to open political negotiations. Indeed, still more than before, they judge the People’s Republic as unfriendly or hostile towards them (63%) and affirm their Taiwanese identity (42% consider themselves Taiwanese only; 40% Taiwanese and Chinese; and 16% Chinese only) (33). What is more, the DPP’s rise to power and the marginalisation of the New Party leave the Chinese Communists litle hope of persuading island opinion of the virtues of the “one country—two systems” formula. Although it now gives evidence of being more cautious, and although it is divided on certain questions such as the opening of direct maritime and air links, the party that, since last November, is the island’s leading political force remains opposed to any idea of reunification with China—even in the long term.

In fact, it is as though the People’s Republic and Taiwan have decided to restart their talks mainly to soothe the Americans’ anxieties and to compete for their favour. That is why—though it is possible that the two Chinese states may undertake “discussions preparatory to opening political negotiations”—both of them know full well that there is a long road ahead before any political accord on separate and peaceful coexistence can be built across the Taiwan Strait.