BOOK REVIEWS

China and World OrderBetween non-interference and intervention

Explaining his government’s attitude towards the UN Security Council’s Kosovo resolution of June 10th 1999, the representative of the People’s Republic of China (PRC) pointed out that the Council’s precedence over third parties had thus been re-established. Commenting on Nato’s air campaign against the Federal Republic of Yugoslavia, he said that similar initiatives could not be taken in the future without prior consent by the Council. This was in reference to the first paragraph of the preamble to Resolution 1244 (1999) which had been included at China’s insistence and which identifies the Security Council as the most authoritative body responsible for the preservation of international peace and security. The PRC subsequently let the resolution pass by abstaining from the vote. Prior to that, Western members had tried to win Peking’s consent for a sustainable solution to the Kosovo problem. This had not been easy, given the PRC’s opposition in principle to Nato’s campaign, and given that China had been directly affected. On May 7th 1999, the Chinese embassy in Belgrade had been hit by an American cruise missile leaving three people dead and more than 20 injured. Regrets expressed by the president of the Security Council in a May 14th declaration and Nato’s apologies had been judged not sufficient, and Peking had temporarily abandoned its traditional passive stance in Council deliber ations. Inspired by these developments, the following article analyses PRC attitudes vis-à-vis the United Nations system as well as Chinese principles and practices with respect to world order issues (1).

A potential great power

Through its permanent seat on the Security Council and through possession of the atom bomb, the PRC shows it has certain important attributes of a great power. Until well into the 1980s, however, it was unable to translate its respective claim into practical policies, given the ideological fetters on its economic potential and limitations imposed on its international margin of manoeuvre by the Sino-Soviet conflict. These limitations have since dissipated, and many observers expect China to become a regionally dominant and globally important player in the future.

Peking’s performance in the wider framework of the UN, its sub-organisations and specialised agencies, is an important indicator for the manner in which the potential great power approaches global problems. Differing from bilateral or regional attempts for tying-in the PRC, China, at this highest level of multilateral co-operation, is not just being confronted with the international community; Peking also needs to participate in the system’s reform and adopt a stance vis-à-vis existing multilateral agreements and institutions.

Following its take-over, in 1971, of the UN seat previously held by Taipei, the PRC basically pursued two objectives in the framework of the world organisation: recognition as the sole legitimate Chinese state and acceptance as a great power with equal rights. Apart from that, Peking was able, at little political and financial cost, to make use of the UN as a propaganda platform in the Sino-Soviet and North-South conflicts, respectively. On the other hand, material (economic and security) interests were mostly pursued outside this framework, as the US had entered into a “strategic partnership” with China during the latter half of the Cold War and had therefore abstained from highlighting PRC world order deficits in the UN context. When the Cold War ended, however, Peking lost its previous role as the “pivot” in Henry Kissinger’s strategic triangle and subsequently came under greater pressure to comment on world order issues within and outside the UN, if only because the spectrum of relevant activities had been widened dramatically.

Analysing Chinese policies in this framework, one would have to ask how great that pressure has since become, whether and where it has resulted in adaptation and learning, and whether spillovers into other areas can be expected.

The unease with the new world

Whereas the PRC, between 1971 and 1985, used the UN as a forum to project its national/cultural identity as a moral regime in the global theatre (2), the end of the East-West conflict brought about an unexpected confrontation with world order issues. China had lost its position in the “strategic triangle” and had normalised relations with Moscow. However, Michail Gorbachev’s proposals for a comprehensive mechanism of international security were just as unacceptable to the Chinese side as was a UN reform at the expense of the sovereign principle. Peking was fortunate in that Gorbachev’s fall and the USSR’s demise had a dampening impact on Russia’s interest in reform, and that the US, in the following years, abandoned earlier grand plans for a thorough reform of the UN system. On the occasion of the celebrations marking the 40th anniversary of the founding day of the world organisation, then Chinese Prime Minister Zhao Ziyang enumerated the areas on which, according to him, the UN should focus its attention (3):

• preserving international peace

• resisting armed aggression and the occupation of one country by another

• transforming the unjust international economic order, and

• promoting international economic and technical co-operation.

Differing from other permanent members of the Security Council, PRC policies have always been characterised by a very traditional and sensitive understanding of sovereignty, which is mainly due to the fact that Taiwan, the “Republic of China”, has been internationally active and to a desire to avoid any “interference” by the international community in Chinese affairs (such as Tibet, Xinjiang, Inner Mongolia) or intervention along the PRC’s periphery. For the same reason, Peking has been viewing activities pursued by non-governmental organisations (NGOs) in the UN framework with mistrust. During much of the 1990s, China, within and outside the UN system, tried to contain the nascent debate on “world domestic politics” as well as the impending loss of its own provisional great power status through a multipolar alternative that would make progress in certain areas dependent on previous agreement with other great powers. This accentuated contradictions with Peking’s traditional anti-hegemonic rhetoric even further, to the extent that there have been occasional tensions, in behind-closed-doors meetings, between the PRC and members of the G-77 group of developing countries. Among the issues that have re-emerged time and again in this context is China’s contribution to the world organisation’s budget, which, at less than 1%, is a striking contrast with Peking’s economic potential and claim to great power status (4). The Chinese side, too, has started to realise that it will be impossible to maintain the present level over the medium-term future. It remains unclear, however, how large the increase will be.

Furthermore, China has occasionally come under pressure in areas such as human rights and peacekeeping operations (PKO), where African and Latin American countries, in particular, would like to see faster progress. During negotiations over the statutes of a future International Criminal Court (ICC), the PRC, by insisting, among other things, on the precedence of national jurisdiction, found itself on the minority side together with Israel, Iraq and the US (the statutes were eventually adopted with 120:7 votes and 21 abstentions.) As a matter of principle, human rights have started to play an increasingly important role in the context of PKO, a fact that is being viewed with unease in Peking. However, since the end of the East-West conflict, there has been little incentive for developing countries to act jointly in the UN framework. As a consequence, China need not yet fear permanent and open contradictions with its developing country clients. This is particularly so as individual non-aligned members and the G-77 remain interested in having the PRC as a counterweight to the US in the Security Council.

Most of the time, however, Peking has been interested in demonstrating Washington’s isolation rather than preventing US attempts to act unilaterally. Contrast ing with Russia, the PRC apparently does not view its status as a permanent Council member as the most important expression of its power. China’s potential as a major economic and military player, as well as its past and present influence in East Asia are assets its northern neighbour is lacking. Behind closed doors, the PRC has been eager to conclude deals with the US and others. This was especially obvious when Peking, in late November 1990, cleared the way for Operation Desert Storm by abstaining from voting. Subsequently, US president George Bush met the Chinese foreign minister at the White House, and Washington ended its blockade of certain World Bank credits for China, thus helping the PRC to emerge from its post-Tiananmen isolation. However, there have not been many opportunities since to conclude similar deals, because the other four permanent members are well aware of the fact that Peking, as a matter of principle, would not like to stand alone. Far Eastern issues apart, Washington, Moscow, London and Paris have tended to consult China only after having consulted with third parties. The PRC’s main interest is in East Asia, a region in which the UN has until recently not played an important role and which has not played an important role in the UN.

Urged to adopt a stance by non-aligned members and the G-77, Peking, in 1993, accepted widening the Security Council’s membership as a matter of principle while demanding a fairer distribution of Council seats among world regions. In this context, according to the Chinese side, due tribute should be paid to the fact that most UN members are developing countries. At the same time, however, China insisted that neither the Council’s ability to act nor its “proven mechanisms” should be weakened (5). In case reform pressure should rise sooner than expected, the PRC has already said it would call for a limitation of PKO missions and for a new focus on economic and social issues.

In reality, China does not expect comprehensive reform anytime soon and can hide behind the other four on the veto issue. Even if the PRC wanted to assume a higher profile, a less than impressive contribution to the world organisation’s budget is not a good starting point for making an impact on the reform agenda. During negotiations over the widening of the Security Council, Peking has unsuccessfully tried to make its consent to a regional solution dependent on the General Assembly’s General Committee abstaining from addressing the issue of Taiwanese membership. Many developing countries view this kind of manoeuvring as arrogant, yet most of them are not really interested in the issue.

Under the impression of the unification of Germany, China, in 1993, had offered support to a future permanent Council seat for the Federal Republic. In striking contrast, no corresponding commitments have been made vis-à-vis Japan. One may assume that the PRC is not interested in helping Tokyo raise its regional and international profiles.

Peacekeeping operations: passivity and precaution

Originating in the 1950-53 UN-mandated intervention in Korea, Peking’s attitude towards PKO had been negative throughout the 1970s. Peacekeeping and peace-enforcing measures were viewed as pretexts for hegemonic intervention in the internal affairs of smaller states. This opposition in principle found its expression in abstentions during respective votes and in non-participation during respective Council debates. It was only after Deng Xiaoping had been brought back to power in 1978 that China, prompted by efforts to practise a more balanced approach to the superpowers and under the impression of a rapid increase in PKO during the 1980s, modified its stance. In November 1981, the PRC representative to the UN General Assembly signalled a new flexibility. The following month, Peking voted in favour of extending the UN mandate in Cyprus (UNFICYP). African and Latin American guerrillas found themselves pressured by China to compromise with their governments. Since January 1982, Peking has contributed to individual peacekeeping budgets, albeit at a share not exceeding 1%.

In November 1988, the PRC, prompted by the Soviet Union, joined the Special Committee for PKO, an affiliated organ of the General Assembly. The following year, China for the first time dispatched military personnel to UNDOF, the mission observing the separation of Israeli and Syrian troops on the Golan Heights. Shortly afterwards, 20 Chinese civilians joined UNTAG, the assistance force overseeing the Namibian independence process. As shown by the December 1981 Chinese vote to extend the mandate of UNIFIL, the interim force in Lebanon, Peking has also accepted the secondment of personnel by other permanent Council members. Ten years later, China supported the creation of UNIKOM, the observation mission on the Iraq-Kuwait border, to which it subsequently dispatched 25 staff. Additional Chinese personnel was made available to UN observation teams in the Western Sahara (MINURSO), Mozambique (ONUMOZ), and Liberia (UNOMIL).

At the same time, Peking insisted that respective operations should only be authorised by the Security Council and not by the General Assembly or the secretary-general. In February 1994, the PRC criticised then secretary-general Boutros Boutros-Ghali for having exceeded his competence when asking to be given authority to order air strikes in the aftermath of the massacre on the Sarajevo market square. Initially, China was also opposed to individual states, groups of states, or organisations assuming responsibility. Since 1993, however, and not least out of financial considerations, Peking has accepted a “supporting role” to be played by such actors. One year before, the PRC had objected to the creation of a special UN reaction force as had been proposed in Boutros-Ghali’s “Agenda for Peace”.

As a matter of principle, Peking continues to insist on separating peacekeeping operations from peace-enforcing operations under Chapter VII of the UN Charter. On this issue, Foreign Minister Qian Qichen stated in 1994:

We remain convinced that PKO should clearly reflect the principles and norms of international relations as defined in the UN Charter. Such operations should only be performed with the consent (of) and in co-operation (with) concerned parties. No PKO and no humanitarian aid programme should be allowed to interfere in a country’s internal affairs, let alone apply force or allow itself to be drawn into a conflict among parties. (6)

This principle notwithstanding, China, through abstention or non-participation, has occasionally allowed enforcement initiatives under Chapter VII to pass, as has been the case with Somalia (1992), Bosnia (1992 and 1994), and East Timor (1999). In 1991, the PRC in Cambodia even accepted a peacekeeping-operation involving elements of a trusteeship.

Taken together, Peking’s different and mostly flexible responses allow conclusions as to a general pattern:

• China would not like to be the lone permanent Council member to prevent a PKO mission. This would also apply to state founding-conflicts which Peking, because of domestic considerations (Tibet) views with suspicion, yet where the absence of an operational government leaves the international community with no alternatives. In cases where other permanent members make use of their veto, the PRC will make its decision contingent on a cost-benefit calculation and weigh its pres tige as a responsible Council member against strengthening the non-interference principle while taking into consideration relations with Washington, Moscow and Europe. In this context, the Council’s ability to act need not be China’s highest priority. And whereas other permanent members do not behave differently as a matter of principle, they have truly global inter ests to consider and therefore need not defend a fallback position.

• In more general terms, China’s flexibility increases in proportion to the conflict’s geographical distance from the PRC’s periphery. Nevertheless, Peking has repeatedly tried to qreap some reward from third parties (especially the US) for concessions made over conflicts in distant parts. The closer the conflict is to the Chinese border, the more important the cost-benefit calculation: China thus actively participated in the October 1991 peace process in Cambodia, because it created conditions for third-party withdrawal. On the other hand, the PRC in 1993 prevented the Council from efficiently addressing the North Korean problem, because relevant third parties, if only for reasons of geography, could hardly be neutralised in such a context. Whenever the USSR or its allies have withdrawn military personnel from neighbouring countries, Peking has supported PKO missions in its own vicinity so as to prevent them from return ing.

The exception from this rule have been states that have had relations with Taiwan or intend to establish such relations. It is here that the contradictions between China’s global and anti-hegemonic rhetoric on the one hand, its narrow regional interest and great power behaviour on the other, have been most striking. The mere existence of the “Republic of China on Taiwan” and its world-wide activities have brought back to the international agenda the very questions that the PRC believed had been answered when it assumed its seat in the UN General Assembly and the Security Council in 1971. In 1994, Peking opposed an enforcement mandate for peacekeepers in Haiti, and in 1995 China threatened to veto the extension of that mandate. At the time, the Chinese press referred to the necessity to contain US hegemonism with the help of a political mechanism (7). The real reason for opposing the mandate, however, consisted in the fact that Haiti had diplomatic relations with Taiwan and had invited the Taiwanese president on an official visit. It took the intervention of several Latin American states to make Peking refrain from the threatened veto by not participating in the respective Council debate. The mandate was subsequently extended with certain modifications.

In 1997, the PRC actually imposed a veto and temporarily blocked the dispatchment of military personnel to observe the armistice between the Guatemalan government and guerrilla forces. Guatemala had diplomatic relations with Taiwan and had supported Taipei’s initiative, launched three years earlier, for re-accession to the UN. The blockade was only ended after the Guatemalan government apparently had apologised in writing for having invited Taiwanese representatives to witness the signing ceremony of the peace agreement and had promised to end its support for Taiwan’s return to the world organisation. China had argued that peace should not come at the cost of sovereignty (in this case the PRC’s sovereignty over Taiwan) (8), an argument that had caused consternation, especially in Latin America. Peking’s UN diplomats had anticipated such a development and had advised their government not to impose the veto. However, the party and state leadership had judged it more important not to create a precedent, and they remained inflexible until the exchange of letters with Guatemala had facilitated a face-saving retreat.

A second veto with a similar background was imposed about one year later. The establishment, in January 1999, of diplomatic relations between Taiwan and Macedonia prompted China to oppose the extension of the mandate for the preventive mission that had until then shielded Macedonia from escalating conflict in the Federal Republic of Yugoslavia. Macedonia had less support among the non-aligned, but due to developments in Kosovo, the issue soon lost its relevance, anyway.

When the Security Council, also in 1999, recommended admitting the South Pacific island state of Nauru, the PRC abstained from the vote while urging Nauru, which had diplomatic relations with Taiwan, to “strictly observe UN resolutions, including resolution 2758 (XXVI) of the General Assembly” (9). As a matter of fact, the latter refers to the 1971 admission of Peking at the expense of Taipei.

China has been conscious of the growing gap between its own rhetoric and deeds, and since 1994, another argument has been put forward to explain opposition to enforcement missions: given the increasing demand for such missions the UN should accept that it is not able to address every conflict in the world and should particularly avoid expensive military operations as far as possible. As to the latter, there has been a tacit consensus among Council members and many other member states. It is questionable, though, whether this fact does anything to improve the increasingly cynical view of China that is held by many developing countries, most of them Latin American, because of Peking’s tactical manoeuvres over Taiwan. While not being enthusiastic adherents of enforcement themselves, most of them would want the Security Council to maintain its capability to act and to accept the resulting responsibilities.

As of today, it looks as though China’s own “backyard” could increasingly becoming an operational theatre for PKO missions. East Timor is the most recent example. Peking felt compelled to endorse the enforcement mission authorised by the Security Council in September 1999 because Indonesia had consented and objecting or abstaining would have deprived the PRC of whatever influence it hoped to exert on the process. Aceh, West Irian, the Korean peninsula and Burma are at least theoretical candidates. In such cases, the PRC would have to tread much more carefully than it has vis-à-vis Latin America or the Balkans. Peking has considerable territorial claims in the region that have not been accepted by neighbouring countries, China itself is home to large, restless minorities, and the PRC is technically still fighting a civil war with the “Republic of China on Taiwan”.

A limited capacity for learning

According to Samuel Kim, China’s post-Tiananmen leadership has been “norma tively challenged” by the demise of the USSR, the third global wave of democratisation, and the “rejuvenation” of the UN (10). The resulting learning has so far been adaptive rather than cognitive, if only because external and internal pressures from the international community and Chinese society have built up at different times and at different strengths.

Since 1989—if not since 1978, 1949 or even 1840—it has been the central objective of China’s power elite to strengthen the country in both moral and material terms and to thus be able to play a—so far theoretical—great power role without having to make far-reaching systemic concessions to both domestic and foreign lobbies. In a context of accelerated globalisation, this has become more difficult than it used to be during the Cold War. Since 1978, sub-organisations and specialised agencies in the UN system have facilitated Peking’s access to material resources (such as capital, technologies and know-how) in the absence of which Deng Xiaoping’s modernisation project would have failed. To the extent that such resources have been passed on to Chinese society, thus contributing to the emergence of new intellectual, middle and entrepreneurial classes, the former, at least theoretically, has been emancipated from its political leadership.

As to the further development of the UN system, the PRC has continued to emphasise its interest in non-material resources (such as the recognition of its monopoly on sovereignty and of its claim to great power status), the pursuance of which would freeze rather than dynamise world order. Although material interests have played increasingly important roles in areas such as trade and environmental policies, China has so far not judged them important enough to neutralise more traditional agendas (it remains to be seen whether accession to the World Trade Organisation will make a difference). Material interests have been more important in China’s own East Asian environment, but this is precisely why they are only being pursued in a UN framework if the price to be paid in terms of world order policies is not deemed excessive. When signing the 1991 peace agreements for Cambodia, for example, the PRC’s main interest was in having its own regional role acknowledged while having others withdraw their forces. At the same time, Chinese soldiers experienced PKO missions (the secondary motive), and Chinese civilians witnessed democratic elections (the unintended side-effect). If Cambodia’s 1993 elections were supervised by, among others, Chinese cadres, this looks like an irony of history, but it can, as a matter of principle, lead to learning processes on the part of those concerned.

As of today, Peking responds to pressure in cases in which defending the sovereign principle would negatively affect the PRC’s prestige. As has been shown above, China’s attitude towards PKO has become rather flexible, with the exercise of its veto power being reserved for cases related to Taiwan and—supposedly—for cases in China’s “near abroad”. In such cases, the PRC will only compromise temporarily if its own influence is thus being strengthened.

In the field of human rights, Peking’s national and international practices con tinue to contradict the general acceptance of international regimes. It is true that the PRC has been increasingly compelled to respond to third parties, NGOs and the dynamics of international discourse. It is particularly the growing world-wide consensus on the relevance of human rights for international security that is likely to expose China to further pressure, and a combination of external and internal pressure could at some point prompt the Chinese leadership to close the growing gap between lip-service and implementation that has been negatively affecting its prestige. However, any linear progress is unlikely in the medium-term, with Americans and Europeans refraining from directly criticising the PRC. At the same time, any liberalisation at home would threaten one-party rule and the very leadership that had been responsible for the decision, taken in 1989, to resort to force.

Interior and exterior pressures have already become considerable in the field of environmental policies, but here, too, Peking has responded out of prestige consi derations—China would not like to be stigmatised as an irresponsible major producer of greenhouse gases—rather than because of acceptance of the necessity of sustainable development strategies. Learning has made some progress, though, and the PRC’s material interest (in the protection of the environment as a means to secure the production base) could at some point correspond to its interest in international prestige as a protector of the environment. However that may be, this is one of the few major areas of the UN system in which pressure from the inside has built up almost as fast as pressure from the outside.

The same could apply to China’s participation in free, rules-based international trade, provided that Peking’s apparent acceptance of WTO rules has been genuine and not merely tactical. The consequences resulting from such an acceptance would be just as dramatic as would similar approaches to human rights. Supposing that present WTO members have no interest in compromising on the existent set of rules, the resulting inner Chinese debate will be at least as acrimonious as the ongoing debate over environmental issues.

From a Chinese viewpoint, and disregarding official rhetoric, disarmament and non-proliferation, much like human rights, belong to the sovereign competence of the nation state. The PRC’s accession to the Non-Proliferation Treaty and its signing of the Comprehensive Test Ban Treaty were rooted in a desire not only to avoid international isolation but to be recognised as a responsible nuclear power. Just as important, however, was the expectation to thus improve its bargaining position vis-à-vis the US and Japan. And to the extent that such considerations remain decisive in the future, there will be bilateral (mostly discrete) concessions offered to relevant third parties (i.e. most of the time the US) rather than multilateral and transparent commitments that would make a real impact on disarmament or non-proliferation. In recent years, China has assembled its own elite of experts who can communicate on the world stage, who understand the limits of their own margins for manoeuvre, and who understand the interests of their foreign partners. However, this elite owes its standing to the power elite and is even more dependent on the latter than quasi-NGOs have been in areas such as human rights or the environment. To the extent that any lessons are being learned here at all, they would signal that the UN has been using its few competence in a limited way and that Washington has occasionally been ready to bargain its respective world order principles away (e.g. on issues of proliferation).

To conclude, learning has, if at all, happened at very different speeds, and learning processes have not been irreversible as a matter of principle, as the human rights debate shows. This can also be said about of permanent Council members, but the former rarely make use of great power status for defensive purposes. Samuel Kim is probably right in saying that China, while not accepting global interdepend ence as a concept, has come to accept it as an irreversible fact (11). However, this acceptance remains politically conditioned vis-à-vis the outside world and remains extremely sensitive to international developments. While having led to acceptance in principle of NGOs, for example, Peking’s involvement in the UN system has also inspired increased efforts to control the latter’s activities. This state of affairs is unlikely to change for as long as increased domestic pressure does not result in the general promotion of pluralism in Chinese politics. And that, in turn, is unlikely for quite a number of reasons.