暴力 - violenta

 

冷暴力	lěng bàolì	non-physical abuse; emotional abuse; the silent treatment
非暴力	fēi bàolì	nonviolent
家庭暴力	jiātíng bàolì	domestic violence
摒弃暴力	bìngqì bàolì	to abandon violence
对妇女暴力	duì fùnǚ bàolì	violence against women

Mao avatars

 Amikam Nachmani says Hitler and Stalin, as described in Alan Bullock's Hitler and Stalin, Parallel Lives "come out as two blood-thirsty, pathologically evil, sanguine tyrants, who are sure of the presence of determinism, hence having unshakeable beliefs that Destiny assigned on them historical missions.

In Bullock's opinion, Hitler was a "mountebank", an opportunistic adventurer devoid of principles, beliefs or scruples whose actions throughout his career were motivated only by a lust for power.

自我批評 Self-criticism within the chinese communist party

 

批评和自我批评是每个党员的必修课

看到同志身上的缺点、错误，你能坦诚指出吗？

批评和自我批评是每个党员的必修课

【党员必须履行的义务】

切实开展批评和自我批评，勇于揭露和纠正工作中的缺点、错误，坚决同消极腐败现象作斗争。

相信很多人对民主生活会上的“表扬与互相表扬”记忆犹新。一些党员抱着“批评领导怕被为难、批评同事怕失人缘、批评下级怕丢选票”的思想，对上级放“礼炮”，对同级放“哑炮”，对自己放“空炮”，搞好人主义、形式主义，使党内政治生活庸俗化、随意化、平淡化，削弱了党内监督的实效。

针对在管党治党建设党中存在的问题，习近平总书记在十八届中央纪委六次全会上强调：“要让批评和自我批评成为党内生活的常态，成为每个党员、干部的必修课。”

批评和自我批评是我们党的三大作风之一，是每位党员必须继承并身体力行、发扬光大的党的优良传统。为此，党章规定的党员必须履行的八项义务之一，就是“切实开展批评和自我批评，勇于揭露和纠正工作中的缺点、错误，坚决同消极腐败现象作斗争”。

批评和自我批评作为党内政治生活的基本形式，在我们党发展壮大的光辉历程中发挥了巨大作用。早在1929年，毛泽东同志就提出，要用批评和自我批评的方法解决党内和革命军队内的各种矛盾，后来将其视为“同志间互相监督，促使党和国家事业迅速进步的好办法”。邓小平同志强调：“在党委会里面，应该有那么一段时间交交心，真正造成一个好的批评和自我批评的空气。”《关于党内政治生活的若干准则》也规定，各级党委或常委都应定期召开民主生活会，交流思想，开展批评和自我批评。

一些老一辈无产阶级革命家更是从我做起、身体力行。陈毅同志就曾毫不讳言地说：“要是我看着你们犯错误，不帮助，我还够得上一个共产党员吗？我要对党负责。”面对言多必失、小心行事的劝告，他说：“我要是害怕这些，我这个共产党员的晚节就会发生问题，就靠不住了！要是我心里有话，不讲出来，就不老实。”

可以说，在革命、建设和改革时期，批评和自我批评使我们党团结了同志、克服了困难、解决了矛盾，不断实现自我净化、自我完善、自我革新、自我提高，保证了党的肌体健康。

今天，在全面从严治党的形势和任务下，开展批评和自我批评继续发挥着重要作用。随着党的群众路线教育实践活动和“三严三实”专题教育深入开展，以及对监督执纪“四种形态”特别是用好第一种形态的实践探索，“动真碰硬有辣味、红脸出汗触灵魂”的批评和自我批评在很多地方呈现，但也有党员干部不敢坦诚指出或大胆批评同志身上的缺点、错误。这实际上是党章意识淡薄、党员义务模糊、缺乏责任担当的表现，结果可能既害了自己又耽误同志，最终伤害的是党的事业。

那么，党员该怎么做？首先要通过学习党章，树立履行党员义务的政治责任感，这样可以生发出勇气，激励起自己的担当精神。当看到有同志经常和商人老板沉溺在一起时，当看到有同志经常出入高档娱乐场所时，当看到有同志准备大操大办孩子的婚宴时……党员干部应及时提醒、大胆指出，这才是对同志的关心和爱护。即使有时批评有“辣味”、会“带刺”，使同志一时接受不了，也须坚持原则，不当老好人，不姑息纵容。只要实事求是、出于公心、态度诚恳，不带个人恩怨、利害、亲疏，相信也能得到同志的理解和信任。当然，批评别人的过程也是检省自己的好机会。党员干部应借机“省身”，多问几个“别人身上的问题我有吗”，并敢于正视、积极改正自己的缺点、错误，使批评和自我批评真正发挥防身治病的作用。

批评和自我批评开展得如何，是衡量党内政治生态的“温度计”。坚持全面从严治党，实践好监督执纪“四种形态”，就必须保证每一名党员都能正常履行这项义务，敢于、善于使用批评和自我批评这个武器。对此，今年1月1日起正式施行的《中国共产党纪律处分条例》在这方面有明确的纪律保障。其中，第七十一条就把对批评进行阻挠、压制，或将批评材料私自扣压、销毁的行为，或者对批评人打击报复的行为，作为违反组织纪律的行为，并根据情节轻重分别作出处分规定，情节严重者将被开除党籍。

Self-Criticism

China Revives Mao-Era Self-Criticism, but This Kind Bruises Few Egos

BEIJING — The 10 middle-aged officials who gathered in a nondescript government office in southwestern China last month were assigned a highly fraught mission: Highlight one another’s faults and confess any transgressions that might undermine the Communist Party’s credibility among the masses.

Officially, at least, nothing was off limits. Superiors could be criticized, a colleague’s affinity for expensive jewelry was fair game, and even voicing opposition to the central leadership’s policies was permitted.

The chief of the officials’ bureau spoke first, confessing that he was “a little hasty and might push others too hard,” recalled one attendee who asked not to be identified to avoid retribution. When it came time for the rest of those present to speak, each carefully imitated the chief’s innocuous critique in a pantomime of remorse that conveniently left everyone unscathed.

“There’s no guarantee what you say in the meeting won’t be used against you in the future, so the best way to avoid problems is to follow the leader,” the official explained afterward in a phone interview.

Wielded with often violent results in the days when Mao Zedong was China’s paramount leader, “criticism and self-criticism” sessions have been resurrected by President Xi Jinping as “the most powerful weapon” for rallying the Communist Party and the Chinese people behind his push to liberalize the economy while fortifying the party’s control over this nation of 1.3 billion people.

The sessions are officially known as “democratic life” meetings for their ostensibly open atmosphere — though they take place behind closed doors. The meetings, a crucial element of Mr. Xi’s so-called mass-line campaign, are intended to bolster the party’s legitimacy among a public increasingly disgusted by official graft, gross mismanagement and unseemly activities that involve sex, overpriced liquor or luxury watches, or sometimes all three. In the year since Mr. Xi came to power, cadres have been encouraged to “experience the grass-roots” difficulties of everyday life while yielding to a crackdown on extravagance and other perks of officialdom, according to pronouncements in the state news media.

Resolutely opposed to subjecting the party to the rule of law and potentially undermining its hold on power, Mr. Xi, analysts say, is selling the self-criticism campaign as a substitute capable of taming official malfeasance and inoculating the party against the possibility of political unrest.

“It’s using an ideological tightening to prevent the kind of explosion of political participation that could be triggered by a more relaxed environment,” said Xiao Gongqin, a history professor at Shanghai Normal University.

But critics say the campaign is at best superficial, and at worst a dangerous revival of Maoist tactics that in an earlier era brought the nation to its knees. For many Chinese of a certain age, criticism and self-criticism sessions are synonymous with public humiliation and brutal punishment. The party has sporadically revived the practice in a more casual form, though not since the decade-long Cultural Revolution that ended in 1976 has a Chinese leader invested so much political capital in such patently ideological pageantry.

“For Xi to pick up the method used by Mao 40 years ago shows how desperate he is to keep party members under control,” said Huang Jing, a professor at the National University of Singapore who specializes in Chinese politics. But in refusing to liberalize politically as he attempts major economic changes, President Xi could scuttle his chances for long-term success, Mr. Huang said. “You can’t walk with one leg going north and one leg going south,” he said.

Despite Mr. Xi’s decree that officials use self-criticism sessions to “look in the mirror, straighten their attire, take a bath and seek remedies,” as he said last June, according to the state news agency Xinhua, some say the meetings offer officials a way to avoid any of that.

In an interview, one former official from eastern Jiangxi Province said participants described the campaign as an excruciating effort to appear repentant without seriously damaging their colleagues or themselves. “You learn to make criticisms that sound serious but don’t really threaten anybody,” the former official recounted a colleague as saying.

A number of unauthorized Chinese websites offer helpful suggestions for weathering the sessions, advising officials to “act sincere” and even providing them with handy self-criticism scripts. The official in southwestern China offered a similar account. “There’s no honesty involved; everyone is simply putting on a show,” he said.

By contrast, reviews in the official news media praise self-criticism sessions as a panacea for the party’s ills. In September, the state broadcaster China Central Television aired footage of Mr. Xi presiding as 25 senior officials in a northern province, Hebei, abjectly confessed to excessive pride, opulent feasting and spending roughly $74 million on government cars during the previous year.

Sun Ruibin, the provincial capital party chief, acknowledged being smitten with his official vehicle. “I knew it was excessive, but I really enjoyed riding in that S.U.V.,” he said during the broadcast. Not to be outdone, the Hebei propaganda chief, Ai Wenli, expressed regret for the $500,000 in public money spent on celebrity entertainers during a lavishly catered Chinese New Year’s gala. “There was too much eating and drinking,” he said, ruefully describing the banquet as “a big waste of money.”

Since then, the self-criticism campaign has picked up steam. In years past, such sessions quietly occurred perhaps once a year, but the official in southwestern China said that his bureau held four such meetings in the two months after the session in Hebei.

In the state news media, reports of meetings across the nation have become increasingly common. But the reports omit the most important details: the names of the confessors and their sins, especially those that might amount to serious crimes, like embezzlement and abuse of power.

Instead, the news accounts skip right to the positive results. “The meeting was like a bath that made everyone’s face blush, made everyone sweat and got rid of all the toxins,” said an article in China Meteorological Weekly last month, referring to a session held by the China Meteorological Administration.

Such coverage has reinforced perceptions that self-criticism sessions remain an empty political ritual, widely mocked as “group massage.” Critics say they have no way to verify whether officials are changing their wayward behavior or facing punishment.

That, of course, may be the point. “It’s a very reassuring signal to the elite that essentially not much is going to change if you play the game,” said Minxin Pei, a professor of Chinese politics at Claremont McKenna College in California.

Last month, the People’s Liberation Army announced that it had uncovered more than 8,100 apartments and 25,000 vehicles illicitly kept by military personnel. The discovery and self-criticism sessions that followed were framed as proof of the success of the government’s drive to clean up the four “undesirable work styles” of formalism, bureaucracy, hedonism and extravagance.

But the only visible result was a vague statement from the military saying that various army units promised to give up illegal housing and to regulate the use of military vehicles.

Many Chinese say they are skeptical that the party is willing or able to truly police itself. As the official from southwestern China said, “You can’t pull yourself up by tugging on your own hair.”

Chinese Cultural Revolution

 

A Cultural Icon Embraces a New Role in Post-Revolution China

SHANGHAI — 

Tong Xiangling was window-shopping here when a 

government car pulled up and he was hauled to an audition that would 

change his life. 

Two songs later, Mao Tse-tung’s wife, Jiang Qing, 

personally cast him as the People’s Liberation Army officer and 

bandit impersonator in the revolutionary opera “Taking Tiger Mountain 

by Strategy.” His suave character played like a Communist James Bond, 

and the  role catapulted Tong to superstardom during the 1966-76 Cultural 

Revolution. Almost everyone in China knew the lyrics to Tong’s arias of 

class struggle. His dashing square face and green army uniform became 

trademarks for eight yangbanxi, or model operas--one of the few forms of 

public entertainment permitted at the time. More than 30 years later, the 

onetime cultural icon is making a living selling noodles in a small restaurant 

here. The changing political landscape long ago made the old hero obsolete, 

though his music is still popular and his name remains synonymous with the 

golden age of revolutionary opera. In the beginning, Tong couldn’t handle being 

seen waiting tables and washing dishes. At work he wore a surgical mask, large 

square glasses and a chef’s hat. 

These days, however, the 66-year-old is doing his best to make peace with 

the role of revolutionary hero Yang Zirong. Instead of hiding his past, he is 

capitalizing on it. He renamed the shop after himself, hung pictures from 

his glory days and wrote a memoir to reflect on a career that was long out of his 

control. But mostly, he is reinventing himself for the sake of his two sons, who 

inherited nothing but their father’s good looks and bad luck.

“I often tell them they wouldn’t have ended up this way if they were not my sons,” 

said Tong, now a balding grandfather who fidgets like a child, in contrast 

to the charismatic hero who once held the nation spellbound. Now the sons 

work at Tong Xiangling Noodle Shop, giving customers the illusion that there 

are three Yang Zirongs at work there. But the only backdrop for the sons is 

white plastic tablecloths and cheap fluorescent lights.

Ironically, Tong named his sons Yuming and Shengtian: “ready to sing” and 

“conquer the sky.” Neither name correctly forecast their fortunes. Bad timing 

doomed the boys from continuing the opera greatness established by their 

parents, uncle and two aunts. By the time Yuming was of school age, his 

father had been accused of not denouncing the boy’s aunt, a celebrated

traditional opera star hated by Mao’s wife. Tong family members were labeled 

lackeys of old theater because they were trained during the pre-Communist 

days under old Peking opera masters.

But while his relatives were banished to reeducation camps, Tong was told to 

continue performing the role he helped create, as a means to atone for his sins. 

Few people outside the theater knew that after Tong took off his makeup as the 

Communist hero, he had to go home and write endless confessions--just 

like the prisoners he grilled on stage.

“When I was a kid, I saw Red Guards beat my aunt until she was unconscious,”

 said Yuming, 46, who wears spiky hair and straps a hunting knife to his belt. 

“I also saw them flush her head in the toilet so they could keep on beating her. 

I refused to learn opera because I didn’t want to end up like her.” 

But even as a child he couldn’t escape guilt by association. A gang of Red Guards 

chased him and broke his leg. When the leg did not heal properly, a doctor 

had to break the bone anew and reset it, without anesthesia, according to his 

mother, Zhang Nanyun. At 14, Yuming’s parents enlisted him in the army, 

where they thought that he would be safer. He was supposed to stay in the propaganda 

brigade, but he was transferred to the Special Forces unit in the remote Inner 

Mongolia. Six years later, he returned to Shanghai and found work at a welding 

factory. A few years ago it went bankrupt.Around the same time, his 

younger brother also became unemployed. But Shengtian, now 36, had 

always been crazy about the opera. Twice his parents tried to enroll 

him in professional opera school when he was younger, and twice he was rejected. 

His family background was not considered “red” enough. Even after the Cultural 

Revolution, he had no chance. His father was seen as Jiang’s “running dog,” though 

Mao’s widow--a master-mind of the radical extremism of the 1960s and ‘70s who later 

committed suicide in jail--had been just as ruthless to the Tong family. As a

consolation prize, the child who was supposed to conquer the sky went to work 

as an elevator operator. He practiced singing on his own and tagged along 

with his father on some gigs, stepping in for actors who fell 

ill. Even though audiences raved about his performance, officials would not 

permit him to study the craft professionally.

The father blamed himself. “Every day I stared at two unemployed sons, but I 

had no power to help them,” he said. “These days all the jobs require

professional degrees. They have nothing.”Then six years ago, the sons came 

up with the idea of a restaurant. Tong decided to retire so he could help. 

Business has been lousy. The location is terrible, and they have 

no money to move or renovate. But the men make do with emotional rewards. 

Tong recalls three customers--the oldest in his 90s, the youngest in his 70s--who 

traveled three hours from a distant suburb to see if Yang Zirong is really back in 

town, serving noodles. “They stared at me from the outside for a long time,” Tong

said. “Then they held my hand and said, ‘We really miss you.’ ”

A few years ago, a storm blew off the shop roof. Customers ran out in the rain 

to help nail it back. “Afterward, all they thought about was how I was doing, if

 I needed some water. I said to myself, I am nothing without the support of my 

audience.” “He was my first hero; I will never forget him,” said Hu Yuedong, 37, 

a customer who eats at the shop three times a week. “I used to dress up like him

and pretend to be him.” Hu’s girlfriend, Cheng Yali, is nine years younger. 

She doesn’t know who Tong is and doesn’t care. Hu says that’s not unusual.  

“There’s a huge generation gap between those born in the 1960s and ‘70s,” 

Hu said. “All those born before 1968 should know who Tong is. He was our 

generation’s Sylvester Stallone and Arnold Schwarzenegger.” Some old fans, 

however, worry about letting nostalgia slip into hero-worship. “The model 

operas are the products of extreme leftist politics,” said Chai Junwei, 38, who

grew up adoring the shows but now runs a Web site for traditional opera buffs. 

“The reason they are still popular is because they existed at the expense of all 

other artistic expression. How could you be proud of that?”

But Tong can’t break his love-hate relationship with the past. Not that he cares 

to defend the Cultural Revolution, but he has yet to see how the commercial 

revolution sweeping China today is any better to the arts. “People say eight 

great pieces in 10 years is not enough,” Tong said. “How many years has

it been since the Cultural Revolution ended? And how many shows have

they produced since then that are worth remembering? But the model 

operas, 30 years later, people still sing them and love them. That makes it all 

worthwhile.”

https://www.latimes.com/archives/la-xpm-2001-feb-11-mn-24050-story.html

Is China popular with world public opinion?

 

Chinese People Think China Is Popular Overseas. Americans Disagree.

The widening perception gap between the Chinese and Western publics points to long-term divergence

The Carter Center-RIWI published a joint survey of Chinese public opinion earlier this month. The results reveal two significant findings – the first, is that the attitudes of the Chinese public (at least, its netizens) toward the West, specifically the United States, have considerably soured over recent years; the second, is that a vast majority of the Chinese population remains convinced that China’s international reputation is broadly, if not very, favorable.

These findings must be situated within the backdrop of two broader trends. The first concerns the worsening perceptions of China across vast swathes of the global community. A Gallup poll in February 2021 suggested that the percentage of Americans who viewed China as the United States’ greatest enemy surged to 45 percent, doubling of the 2020 figures. Unfavorable views of China have climbed in countries ranging from Australia, the Netherlands, to the United Kingdom, with many expressing skepticism toward the Chinese leadership’s ability to “do the right thing” internationally.

This particular trend reflects the souring relations, escalating tensions, and increasingly bellicose rhetoric directed toward each other by Beijing and Washington. Yet this fact alone poses less of a cause for concern, arguably, than what could be termed a second-order perceptual misalignment – many amongst the Chinese population are increasingly convinced that China is regarded highly favorably internationally, notwithstanding the above poll results and data. The view that China offers a cogent, effective, and functional alternative to the Western liberal democratic model – to some extent grounded in Beijing’s swift and meticulous responses to the COVID-19 pandemic – has bolstered domestic convictions that the Chinese model of governance is on the rise, as liberal democracy gradually declines from its discursive zenith. The perception that China enjoys vast international prestige, then, goes hand-in-hand with the emotivist-normative judgment that the “China Model” (which, in practice, resembles a work-in-progress within academic and think-tank circles, yet is certainly portrayed as holistic rival to the “Western Way”) is here to stay – at least, within Chinese borders.

Making Sense of Perceptual Misalignment  

How do we make sense of the perceptual misalignment between how the Chinese public believe the country is perceived overseas, and the (arguably) tarnished reputation that the country possesses abroad?

There is a tempting tendency on the part of certain commentators to jump to the conclusion that the Chinese public – predictably and systemically – are “brainwashed” or “manipulated” by the ruling regime into delusional thought. Yet this is far too hasty, unnuanced, and uncharitable a characterization – the Chinese public are not lemmings. To posit that state engineering and manipulation of information is the primary factor in the perception gap is ill-backed-up by proof and evidence. Recent literature has suggested two significant trends that are worthy of our consideration, when reflecting upon China’s foreign policy, nationalism, and interactions between Beijing and the world at large.

First, the increasing heterogeneity of the Chinese public should render us skeptical of the view that the Chinese public are shaped wholly by homogenous forces – in a top-down manner – as envisioned by certain popular accounts. Cheng Li’s seminal work “Shanghai Middle Class: Reshaping U.S.-China Engagement” which points to the rise of an eclectic, open-minded, progressive middle class is equally skeptical of American hegemony and authoritarian encroachment. Shanghai epitomizes the cosmopolitan, 21st-century Chinese city, one in which passionate nationalism is moderated and enhanced by attraction to capitalist, open-market values. Kerry Brown’s “China in Five Cities” highlights the versatility and lucidity of Hong Kong and Xi’an citizens, who reimagine and explore their Chinese identities through the lenses of Westernized and historically embedded local cultures, respectively. These works highlight the fact that Chinese citizens – especially as compared with the pre-reform and opening era – are increasingly clued in and conjoined with the international pulse. To suggest that access to free, open internet remains impossible would be an anachronistic judgment – even despite the fact that many information resources remain, of course, de jure restricted. Returnees from overseas education and work have often profound and experience-informed insights into “the grass on the other side.” These points all remind us to be wary of essentialist explanations that deprive citizens – whether grassroots, entrepreneurial, or wealthy – of their agency.

Second, Chinese public discourses concerning foreign policy are shaped by a multitude of factors – and not all of them involve, or are steered exclusively by the top-level government (i.e. the State Council and its associates). Yu Jie’s recent briefing to Chatham House highlights the role played by provincial-level authorities, state-owned enterprises, and other associated local or provincial actors in shaping Chinese foreign policy. It is fair to say that the conjoined efforts of the Publicity Department of the Communist Party, the United Front Work Department, and the Ministry of State Security mean many Chinese citizens are vastly influenced by state ideology – yet it would be unfair to dismiss the room for provincial and local contestation over the precise boundaries of such ideologies and tenets.

Both points hopefully elucidate reasons why we should be skeptical of the “top-down imposition” story. The next step in our exploratory exercise, then, is to consider the possibility of alternative explanations at work here. I suggest that there are two possible explanations.

The first concerns the organic ascent in narratives centered around “self-strengthening,” a concept which offers both the normative justification, and what is widely viewed as the empirical evidence, for China’s “return” to its rightful place at the table internationally. Self-strengthening – drawing upon the imagery of national strength (hence the Chinese cybersphere’s invoking of “qiangguo” or “strong nation,” as a self-description) and defiance of “foreign enemies” – is taken as more than merely an aspirational goal; it is equally construed as what has been occurring over the past decades, and as what is likely to continue into the future decades. Many in the Chinese public – including the highly educated and affluent – are convinced that China has been working toward catching, and will soon overtake, the United States in raw economic and strategic/political terms. The perception that China enjoys prestige and celebration abroad, then, could be interpreted as an organic byproduct of such confidence – which could well be misplaced, but is by no means fabricated or imposed through the state apparatus alone.

The second point – one that Jude Blanchette makes in his incisive commentary on the poll results – is that “it’s important that those of us in ‘the West’ don’t assume that the world shares our narrative on Beijing.” To this, I would add that over the past five years, perceptions of China have not declined by much – and have plausibly improved – across countries and regions that are traditionally neglected by much of the international commentariat. A plurality or majority of populations across all Latin American and African states view China’s growing economy as a positive for their countries. Mexico, South Africa, Brazil, Nigeria, and Argentina, as of 2019, recorded double-digit increases in their populations’ positive ratings of China’s economic ascent. Few among these, if any, are traditional allies to the West – though they certainly cannot be easily reduced into being members of an ostensible “China” bloc. Hence, if we are to interpret the way the Chinese netizens view the international community as reflecting a particular segment of the world’s countries – namely, countries that have grown to be more receptive toward China – then the self-assessment scores would not, after all, be so outrageous. The obvious counterpoint/caveat here is this: We do not, as of now, know what a majority of Chinese netizens construe to be the international community; nor, indeed, do we have sufficient evidence to conclude that they do or do not care for the views of the amorphous “West” – much of this requires further appraisal and investigation.

So What Gives? What Now?

There are three upshots to draw from the above. First, Beijing needs to take somewhat seriously the above misalignment – not because they are losing international support from allies that remain steadfastly committed to China, but because the increasing bifurcation between the Chinese public’s understanding of the international community that matters, and the actual international community whose investment, capital, and interactions with China have been a primary engine promulgating its growth would only be to the detriment of the country’s population. Highlighting the hostile opprobrium from the West need not mean capitulating to them – indeed, there could well be self-interest-centered reasons for the ruling party and the population alike to rally around a more affirmative, productive variant of competitive nationalism, which would yield positive impetus for constructive, profound societal transformations. Yet in order for pragmatic policymakers and bureaucrats to acquire the political capital to push for moderated and flexible stances on matters where compromise can indeed be sought, the status quo has to been recognized as problematic.

Second, those who call for an explicit counteracting and reprobation directed toward Beijing’s state media and propaganda apparatus in order to transform “hearts and minds” on the ground in China are fundamentally mistaken. They make the convenient assumption that animosity toward the West is the product of party concoction and stimulation, as opposed to genuine grievances that Chinese citizens have come to cultivate toward what they identify as exclusionary, interventionist, and condescending rhetoric from their Western counterparts. The reductionist frame – that those who eschew the West and what they have to offer must therefore be brainwashed – is unhelpful, patronizing, and inconducive toward rehabilitating images of the United States or, indeed, the much-maligned Five Eyes, in China. If Washington is genuinely concerned about its image and soft power in China – which it should be – it would benefit from recognizing that painting Chinese citizens as an oppressed monolith that lacks access to free-flowing information, and are hence universally ignorant, cannot possibly serve anyone’s interests, barring those who enjoy infantalizing China in their politically charged rhetoric.

Third and finally, the China-watching community should move past focusing exclusively on the liberal West’s attitudes toward China. The perceptions, judgments, and attitudes of those residing in non-Western, or non-liberal democratic states, are equally important in gauging global opinion. If those in the “democratic” world are indeed seeking to revamp their image and render their brand of liberal democracy once again attractive to folks beyond their conventional sphere of influence, then it is high time to recognize that the grievances toward the Washington-led order are very much real. China may not provide a comprehensive alternative or panacea to it, but the West is in for a slog, as opposed to walkover, when it comes to regaining the hearts and minds of those alienated by decades of perceived neoliberalism and hawkish interventionism.

The widening perception gap between the Chinese and Western publics is alarming, but not surprising. The pandemic and the ensuing geopolitical tussles have merely amplified pre-existing tensions and long-standing resentment; the writing had always been on the wall. As China rises, it needs to learn the ropes of navigating a world that is not necessarily receptive toward its actions – especially when couched in the trenchant, absolutist rhetoric that has undergirded its recent statements. China must also be wary of conflating what it sees with the full reality – though this is a fact that I believe many in the bureaucratic and political system are well aware of. The perception gap between the Chinese public and the international community (at least significant segments of it) is widening, and this alone is a cause for concern.

Yet concurrently, those in the West who are seeking to engage China on dialogue and forthcoming exchanges must continue to do so. An isolated, cut-off, and alienated China is in the interest of neither the country’s 1.4 billion population, nor the world at large. Ameliorating conflicting interests and incentives requires a basic alignment of understanding. Aligning understanding, in turn, behoves tact and moderation.

Liar Liar - The Chinese Communist Party

 

The CCP Didn’t Fight Imperial Japan; the KMT Did

While the KMT military defended China against Japan during WWII, the CCP built up strength for the civil war.

As Diplomat readers are well aware — and the Pacific Realist is frankly sick of —China has mounted a sustained campaign demanding that Tokyo take a “correct” view of Imperial Japan’s unspeakable crimes during WWII.

There’s always been a good deal of irony to all of this. Although far too many Japanese leaders have tried to shrink or even deny the crimes of Imperial Japan, including its atrocities in China, successive Japanese governments have acknowledged and apologized for many of these.

On the other hand, the Chinese Communist Party has also committed numerous massacres of Chinese since establishing the People’s Republic of China. This began early in its tenure while consolidating its control over the vast country, as Frank Dikötter notes in a terrific recent book. With regards to the “land reform” campaign alone, for instance, Dikötter writes, “The exact number of victims killed in the land reform will never be known, but it is unlikely to have been fewer than 1.5 to 2 million people from 1947 to 1952.” At least another two million were killed in the Great Terror that Mao launched between 1950-1952 to weed out imaginary counter-revolutionaries.

Of course, there was also the widespread famine that killed tens of millions during the Great Leap Forward. To be sure, there’s no reason to believe that Mao and the other CCP leaders intended to starve these people when they launched the Great Leap Forward. That being said, they continued these policies for years after they realized the disastrous outcomes they were having simply because Mao didn’t want to admit his failures. Then, of course, the entire country was plunged into chaos once again during the Cultural Revolution, which was Mao’s attempt to ensure his atrocities weren’t publicly acknowledged by the Party after his death.

As it turned, he needn’t have worried as the CCP under Deng Xiaoping decided it was not in the Party’s interest to acknowledge it had nearly destroyed the county many times over in its first 25 years in power. Instead, the CCP has devoted considerable resources to systematically rewriting history — or at the very least burying it. Unlike in Japan, where history is distorted by hardline leaders, in China distorting history is the official state policy. Meanwhile, taking the correct view of history is illegal — which is why books like Tombstone are banned.

Reasonable observers might conclude that it is the height of hypocrisy for the CCP to wage a global PR war over Japan’s views of history on the one hand, while on the other hand criminalizing a correct view of its own history. And there was a time not too long ago I might have agreed with these reasonable observers’ conclusion. However, this week Xi Jinping and the CCP took their hypocrisy on history to new heights.

As Shannon reported on Wednesday, earlier this year “China’s legislature passed a resolution creating two new national observances. ‘Victory Day’ on September 3 would commemorate Japan’s surrender in the ‘War of Resistance Against Japanese Aggression,’ China’s name for its fight against Imperial Japan before and during World War II.  December 13 was also named a National Memorial Day to commemorate the Nanjing Massacre.”

She went on to note that President Xi and the entire Politburo Standing Committee participated in the new Victory Day celebrations, which they used mostly to criticize contemporary Japanese policy, and to try to create the impression that Japan’s shifting defense posture represents a return to the militarism of Imperial Japan.

However, along with criticizing Japan, Xi and the PBSC also used the Victory Day celebrations to praise the CCP itself. As Shannon writes, the Victory Day holiday “also served as a celebration of the Chinese Communist Party’s role in defeating Japan — and more than that, in saving China from its century of humiliation…. Xi credited the CCP with spearheading the movement to unite all of China’s people in opposition to Japan. To Xi Jinping, the deciding factors in the war were the ‘great national spirit’ of the Chinese people — particularly, their patriotism — and the leadership of the CCP.”

None of this is particularly new. The CCP has long claimed credit for having tirelessly defended China from the Imperial Japanese army. This couldn’t be further from the truth, however. As I have noted elsewhere, Japan’s invasion of China saved the CCP from Chiang Kai-shek and the KMT, and ultimately allowed Mao to defeat the KMT in the ensuing civil war. Indeed, by the end of 1934, the CCP was on the verge of extinction after KMT troops delivered another heavy blow to the Red Army in Jiangxi Province, which forced the Party to undertake the now infamous Long March to Xi’an in the northwestern province of Shaanxi. Chiang initially pursued the Communist forces, and would have almost certainly delivered a final blow to the CCP if war with Japan could have been delayed. As it turned out, Chiang was not able to put off the war with Japan any longer, and domestic and international pressure forced him to accept a tacit alliance with the CCP against Japan.

At the onset of the war, then, the CCP was not in any position to defend anyone from the formidable Japanese military. In fact, it wasn’t even in a position to defend itself from the KMT. The initial battles of the second Sino-Japanese War in southern China were the largest ones, and the KMT fought them alone.

This would be the trend of the entire war. As two scholars note, “From 1937 to 1945, there were 23 battles where both sides employed at least a regiment each. The CCP was not a main force in any of these. The only time it participated, it sent a mere 1,000 to 1,500 men, and then only as a security detachment on one of the flanks.There were 1,117 significant engagements on a scale smaller than a regular battle, but the CCP fought in only one. Of the approximately 40,000 skirmishes, just 200 were fought by the CCP, or 0.5 percent.”

By the CCP’s own accounts during the war, it barely played a role. Specifically, in January 1940 Zhou Enlai sent a secret report to Joseph Stalin which said that over a million Chinese had died fighting the Japanese through the summer of 1939. He further admitted that only 3 percent of those were CCP forces. In the same letter, Zhou pledged to continue to support Chiang and recognize “the key position of the Kuomintang in leading the organs of power and the army throughout the country.” In fact, in direct contradiction to Xi’s claims on Wednesday, Zhou acknowledged that Chiang and the KMT “united all the forces of the nation” in resisting Japan’s aggression.

While the KMT were busy uniting the country and fighting the Japanese military, CCP forces spent much of the early part of the war hiding in the mountains to avoid battle. As the KMT was decimated by the Japanese military, it was forced to retreat further south. At the same time, the Japanese forces largely focused on securing control of Chinese cities and strategic infrastructure, while ignoring China’s massive countryside. Thus, the KMT’s efforts to actually defend China created a power vacuum in rural areas, which the CCP came out of hiding to seize. It used its control over these villages to perfect its propaganda and political efforts, and hid among the population to avoid fighting the Japanese army. According to Soviet military advisers stationed in CCP-controlled areas at the time, the CCP also used this land to grow opium to fund its growing operations.

As far as fighting went, the CCP engaged in guerilla warfare and sabotage missions. This certainly annoyed the Japanese forces, but it did not have a significant impact on Japan’s war operations. In fact, even the Japanese North China Area Army — which had command over the northern areas where the CCP was located and the KMT was relatively weaker than elsewhere —continued to see defeating the KMT as its primary objective. The greater impact of these guerilla operations was in helping the CCP win new recruits. The CCP used their “heroic” operations against the hated Japanese enemy to recruit young men (and women) to their cause, much as militant groups like the Islamic State of Iraq and al-Sham film their exploits today and post them on YouTube to attract recruits.

This was highly successful. According to the CCP’s own estimates, it began the war with 30,000 troops. By Victory Day, it had 1.2 million regular troops and around 2.6 million to 3 million militia under its command. It was also quick to seize the areas that the Japanese army was vacating, and seized the Japanese equipment. In fact, in some instances it even forced the Japanese soldiers to join the Red Army (the KMT did the same). Of course, the war not only allowed the CCP to grow much stronger, but it also greatly depleted the Nationalist’s strength. This allowed the CCP to prevail easily in the civil war.

This was not by accident but by design. The CCP had a choice: it could have prioritized defending the country against Japan during the war, or it could have prioritized seizing control of China from those who did fight the Japanese. It chose the latter. Meanwhile, by choosing to actually try to defend China against Japan during the war, the Nationalists handed the country to the CCP afterwards.

Which is why Xi and the CCP’s decision to create a national observance day to honor its defense of China during the second Sino-Japanese War represents the height of hypocrisy. It’s one thing to try to suppress all information exposing the Party’s failings, which killed millions of Chinese, while demanding Japan take a correct view of history (which Tokyo should do). It’s another thing altogether to falsely claim credit for one of the defining moments of your country’s modern history. And it’s really something unprecedented to create a national holiday to honor your Party for doing something it consciously avoided; namely, putting China’s defense over the CCP itself. Classy.

Sursa articolului:
https://thediplomat.com/2014/09/the-ccp-didnt-fight-imperial-japan-the-kmt-did/

 

Gravitas: Wikipedia bans Chinese editors for 'manipulation'