BOOK REVIEWS

Die Chinapolitik Deutschlands und Frankreichs zwischen Außenwirtschaftsförderung und Menschenrechtsorientierung (1989 bis 1997). Auf der Suche nach Balance, by Christoph Neßhöver

by  Claudie Gardet /

Neßhöver book is a precise, detailed and clear description of Germany and France’s China policy during the 1990s, faced with the new international order created by the end of the Cold War, Asia’s rise to economic power and the human rights question. The author’s aim is to establish checking the actual facts that the approach towards China adopted by Germany from the start of the 1990s, and then by France from 1994 onwards, is a form of “mercantilism”, giving priority to economics rather than to the defence of human rights (1). The similarity between Germany’s China policy and that of France in no way reflects, for Neßhöver, any will to develop a common European attitude towards China, but is merely the expression of competing national interests.

Neßhöver chooses to treat his subject as a study of bilateral relations, and he sets out to determine the key figures and influences within foreign policy decision-making. The book is divided into five parts. The first sets out the level and the method of analysis to be followed. Part two offers a useful look back over the defining features of the China policy that evolved in West Germany and France from the 1950s onwards. Parts three and four describe in turn the evolution of relations between Germany and China, and between France and China, from 1989 to 1997. In part five, the writer sets out the policies followed, and tries to measure their implications for foreign policy in the future – not only for Germany and France but also for the European Union (EU) as a whole. The study is based on official declarations and documents, articles in the press, the archives of the French employers’ organisation Confédération nationale du patronat français (CNPF) and specialised publications. It draws too on interviews conducted by the author with specialists from political and academic circles in Germany and France. The appendices are valuable in that they supply the statistical data and the main documents on which the author has based his analysis.

Neßhöver shows that the Köhl government was extremely hesitant in applying sanctions against China after the Tiananmen Square events. During the EU foreign ministers’ meeting in Madrid, at the start of June 1989, Germany is said to have come out against mandatory sanctions, and in favour only of officially condemning the military intervention, suspending official contacts and imposing an embargo on arms sales (p. 106). Under pressure from public opinion, the German government did freeze export credits and the Hermes guarantees (the equivalent of France’s Coface guarantee and Eximbank in the United States) but, unlike America or France, it was squeamish about issuing visas to the dissidents. It was, in effect, a victim of divided loyalty: how could it, on the one hand, satisfy the demands of the civil rights campaigners and, on the other, those of industrialists, themselves subject to pressure from China which was threatening to cancel their contracts. By November 1991, during his visit to Peking, Finance Minister Möllemann was still linking normalisation of relations with an improvement in the human rights situation. To get round this difficulty, Köhl came out in favour of normalisation with no pre-condition, which was strongly criticised in the press. On June 24th 1992, the Bundestag finally voted to lift sanctions. The visit to Peking by Foreign Affairs Minister Klaus Kinkel in November 1992 put a definitive stamp on the German government’s new political orientation. According to Neßhöver, there are three defining elements.

1. Discreet diplomacy (stille Diplomatie): the government refrains from making declarations on human rights that the Chinese might perceive as a provocation. Ministers who go to China limit themselves to presenting lists of Chinese prisoners (drawn up by Amnesty International) and asking for them to be freed.

2. Trade as a factor in development (Wandel durch Handel): economic progress in China due to co-operation with Western countries is assumed to favour political liberalisation there.

3. Recognition of the existence of only one China (Ein-China Politik) and, until 1995, a ban on arms sales to Taiwan: Germany was shaken by the success of Chinese sanctions against France in 1992, and now renounced delivering submarines to Taiwan.

A pragmatic line was taken, one that applied also to Asia in general. Indeed, in 1993, Kohl laid down the concept of a German policy for Asia (Asienkonzept) that was based on the same principles.

Neßhöver admits that this conciliatory, even complacent, policy won several notable prizes for German industry (2) and that the “list diplomacy” had some success (3); but he also emphasises that the Chancellor was rebuffed on several occasions (4).

Neßhöver also shows that German politicians as a whole did not share Köhl’s view. Differences came to light between various departments of government (for instance between the Chancellery and the Foreign Affairs ministry) and within the governing parties, the Free Democrats (FDP) and even the Christian Democrats (CDU). Throughout this period, the question of human rights remained the subject of vigorous internal debate. Some initiatives stirred up disputes with China and, briefly during the summer of 1996, a temporary suspension of relations.

Thus, the German government got nowhere in its manoeuvring to avoid conflict with China (5). Li Peng’s visit in 1994 was punctuated by demonstrations, which provoked a sharp reaction from the Chinese Prime Minister. In the end, Kinkel found himself obliged to welcome the Dalai Lama, in April 1995, in the latter’s capacity of religious leader. In June 1996, the Friedrich Naumann Foundation (FDF) organised a world conference on Tibet attended by Tibetan exile groups—in response to which the Peking government closed down the Foundation’s offices there; and the Bundestag’s Human Rights Committee published in the same month a resolution on the subject, which pushed the Chinese into imposing a short-lived ban on a planned visit from Kinkel. And lastly, Köhl’s stand was partially breached by the statement on human rights published by President Roman Herzog before his visit to Peking in November 1996 (6).

Neßhöver concludes that Köhl did not succeed in finding any compromise between defending Germany’s economic interests and defending human rights in China; he judges, moreover, that the solution he did adopt—giving priority to the economy, and justifying this by a speech explaining how this would help China’s development—was not satisfactory either.

Neßhöver goes on to study, more briefly, the line taken by France after 1989. While it too showed itself relatively prudent when it came to sanctions, and normalised its economic relations as early as 1990, it did give evidence of firmness towards China over the question of human rights, and maintained that stand until 1992. France differed from Germany in that its internal debate at the start of the 1990s (in business circles and within the government itself) was not so much about human rights as about arms sales to Taiwan. This provoked a serious row with China.

The switch of power within the National Assembly, in March 1993, introduced a change in policy towards China, one that was backed by Jacques Chirac after he was elected president in 1995. The joint communiqué in January announced a reversal of policy towards Taipei; and Juppé’s statement to Le Figaro, in March, sounded the retreat over human rights policy. These concessions to Peking bore fruit a few months later. Jiang Zemin’s visit to Paris in September 1994, sealed the resumption of normal relations between the two governments. France, too, entered upon a period in which economics came first: Chirac set himself to define an Asian policy for France fashioned on the German model. His visit to Peking, in May 1997, was an economic success.

Neßhöver demonstrates convincingly the thesis he has put forward at the start: Germany and—some time later—France adopted a China policy that was increasingly “mercantile”, and to which they largely sacrificed their principles. He takes a critical stand on this subject, dismantling some of the arguments that were put forward in support of the policy. Thus, he shows that the punishments or rewards meted out by Chinese leaders are not a systematic response to their partners’ attitudes. For example, at the end of July 1996, right in the middle of a political crisis between China and Germany, Siemens won the contract for the second stage of the Shanghai underground, and Mercedes signed an agreement for a joint venture to manufacture buses. Neßhöver argues that the spirit of compromise expressed by German and French leaders was not always repaid in kind, as with Balladur’s visit in 1994. Rows with China lead to varying and not always foreseeable results, witness the fact that China’s commercial exchanges with European countries hardly suffered at all after Tian’anmen. Peking’s rewards, with all the publicity they attract, have also to be measured. Declarations of intent have not always been followed up with binding contracts, though the Chinese have succeeded in using them to obtain very advantageous conditions later on.

Neßhöver establishes, then, that to sweep claims of human rights violations under the carpet does not always guarantee an economic gain. He observes, furthermore, that it has not persuaded Chinese leaders to adopt a democratic attitude, any more than China’s economic progress has helped to make its political system more liberal. He questions the validity of the “discreet diplomacy” and “development through trade” combination. Is this line of argument not being used to mask the vulnerability of the German and French governments, and to justify their capitulation to Chinese demands? Would it not be wiser to separate politics from economics, as Clinton did from 1994 onwards?

Neßhöver denounces another negative aspect of the German and French policies: despite their similarity, each policy is designed only to defend the national interest, and not to take a common stance; among the proofs offered by the author is the sales rep mentality assumed by Köhl and Chirac, leading their two countries to compete for their allocation of credits and export guarantees. He concludes that the hope of achieving a common European policy is slender, at least in the near future. This perception seems more debatable, however.

Germany has certainly done pioneering work in reminding Europe, from 1993 onwards, of Asia’s economic importance. The pragmatic line taken by Köhl was a source of inspiration, not only for French policy, but also for the two directives on Asia and China published by the European Commission, in 1994 and 1995 respectively. The second of these documents underlines the need for an active policy of co-operation and exchanges with China. It argues the principle, on the one hand, that economic relations with China will help its development and its progress towards democracy; and on the other hand, that it is better, in the interests of efficiency, to engage Chinese leaders in a constructive dialogue on the question of human rights, rather than to provoke them (7). Accordingly, one may observe that, in 1995, EU member states did agree on the need to follow a China policy based on realistic principles, and that France’s policy fell within this European context as did those of the other EU members, all of whom, more or less, accepted the need to accommodate themselves to China’s demands. It is true that consensus within the EU was more difficult to achieve when it came to human rights. Neßhöver recalls the debates of spring 1997, which set France and Germany, in particular, against the North-European states on the subject of EU support for a resolution against China at the Commission on Human Rights in Geneva. That year the disagreements led to a serious dispute; but in 1998 all the member states took a common position and withheld support from a resolution against China, so as to avoid the unpleasantness of the previous year and to project a unified image of the European Union. Since Neßhöver’s account ends in 1997, one cannot reproach him with not having foreseen this development, but it weakens his fears, demonstrates a care, among EU members, to avoid disputes—open ones at least—and shows that the combined German and French positions did swing the balance in favour of a pragmatic policy towards China.

It also seems that the bilateral policy of each state influences those of the others. Thus, while Germany has always shown itself much more prudent than France where Taiwan is concerned, it appears from 1993 onwards to have been strongly drawn towards actively developing its relations with the island. Taiwan’s Finance Minister visited Bonn in September; there were direct contacts between Frankfurt and Taipei through the Condor and Mandarin companies; and Patriot and RAM missiles were sold via the Americans. In April 1994, one can perceive a qualitative upswing in relations, with the visit of finance minister Rexrodt and the sending of a high-level diplomat to head Taiwan’s Economic Bureau. In 1995, Germany crossed Taiwan off its list of trouble spots, which allowed it to export arms there.

Equally when it comes to human rights, the policy of one state forces the others into some adjustment. Public opinion is influenced by what is happening in neighbouring countries; and actions by NGOs have a resonance beyond national boundaries, as do initiatives by the European Parliament. This doubtless explains why Kinkel, despite his reluctance, had to welcome the Dalai Lama. Moreover, in 1997, he fell into line with the terms of the 1995 Commission Directive by speaking of “dialogue exempt from confrontation” with China.

While it is clear that the EU states will still compete where they can, their own freedom to manoeuvre in the economic field is only relative; as Neßhöver himself makes it clear, the export credits policy is limited by the OECD’s code of conduct. As he also notes, the signature of a deal like that struck by Airbus brings as much profit to Germany as to France, whichever country signs it. To the extent that big companies are becoming Europeanised or globalised, the idea of competition becomes relative.

Neßhöver also emphasises difficulties on the political front: Chirac, during his visit to China in 1997, asserted the idiosyncrasies of French policy by restating the notions, so dear to General De Gaulle, of independence and multipolarity. While foreign policy remains for the time being a function of national sovereignty, this is a field in which individual states of the EU can play along their own strengths. Thus, France and the United Kingdom can continue to exploit their seats on the United Nations Security Council, and have recently applied in this capacity to sit on the ASEAN Regional Forum (ARF). But if the EU does manage to define a common foreign and defence policy, the field of action open to both these states will be restricted or, at the very least, they will increasingly have to channel their influence within this framework.

In these circumstances, Neßhöver’s conclusion may be too pessimistic. While he wonders about the future of the EU, and the role that Germany and France can play in it, and mentions some aspects of the question, he takes insufficient account of the European background: in particular, he makes no mention of Great Britain’s position during this period, immediately prior to the handover of Hong Kong. By raising only the competitive aspects of relations between Germany and France, he underestimates the efforts devoted to seeking a consensus, which are characteristic of inter-European relations. And he makes no assessment of the support that the EU’s economic weight can lend to its member states when they come to deal with China. A less state-centred analysis, one less focused on the competition between states, would probably have led to a re-evaluation of the influence brought to bear by other actors (8).

Translated from French original by Philip Liddell