7

A Major Power

You were my teacher, but now here I am in my teacher’s domain, and look at your system, Hank. We aren’t sure we should be learning from you anymore.

—Wang Qishan to Henry Paulson in 2008¹

‘Great eras produce great ideas,’ declared Chinese Foreign Minister Wang Yi, as he inaugurated the new Xi Jinping Thought on Diplomacy Studies Centre in Beijing.² It was late July. The COVID-19 outbreak in the Chinese capital, which began at a local market, had been contained within a few weeks, seemingly without any serious political cost. The CCP’s top leadership would soon be heading for its annual conclave at the seaside resort of Beidaihe, with Xi firmly in command. State media reported that the research centre, which was being established at the foreign ministry in partnership with the China Institute of International Studies, would coordinate academic resources for in-depth study of Xi’s diplomatic thought to make it better serve the country’s international engagement.³ Hailing Xi as a ‘great strategic thinker’ who had a ‘keen appreciation of the laws of human society’, Wang said that the core leader had provided a blueprint with regard to ‘what kind of world and what type of international relations China should promote, what kind of foreign policy best serves China and how China is to conduct diplomacy in the new era’.⁴ At the heart of this thought lay the concept of major-country diplomacy.

Xi’s ascent to power in late 2012 accelerated the assertive shift that Chinese foreign policy was undergoing in the aftermath of the 2008 financial crisis. A series of events following the collapse of Lehman Brothers in 2008 had instilled greater confidence within Chinese leaders about the strength and superiority of its state-backed market economy model. China’s phenomenal growth in the first decade of the 2000s had led to it not just emerging as the world’s factory but also amassing massive forex reserves.⁵ In the midst of the financial crisis in 2008, the George W. Bush administration reached out to the Chinese leadership, requesting that it hold on to its portfolio of US government debt. In addition, President Bush sought coordination with the Hu Jintao–Wen Jiabao leadership at the G20 forum. This was critical, given that Washington was readying an unprecedented US$ 700 billion stimulus package. Beijing did more than that. It launched its own stimulus worth US$ 586 billion, which it argued was not just supporting the Chinese economy but also helping stabilise the global economy.⁶ At the same time, it picked up an increasing amount of US treasuries that were issued in 2008. The significance of the bilateral relationship was then underscored by the establishment of the new US–China Strategic and Economic Dialogue mechanism in 2009. Discussing this phase in the relationship, Bob Davis and Lingling Wei write, ‘After decades of following in America’s shadow, China was now stepping into the sunlight. Beijing was coming to the aid of the United States and the rest of the world, a change that bolstered the confidence of China’s leaders that they had chosen the correct path to development.’⁷

This confidence was reflected in Wang Qishan’s remark—quoted at the beginning of the chapter—to then US Secretary of Treasury Henry Paulson amid the financial crisis. It was echoed in Premier Wen Jiabao’s scolding of the West for its ‘inappropriate macroeconomic policies’ and ‘unsustainable model of development’ at Davos in January 2009.⁸ As it was in China’s central bank governor Zhou Xiaochuan’s 2009 call to replace the dollar as the global reserve currency,⁹ along with Beijing’s growing weariness with the US’s penchant for debt.¹⁰ This, of course, was ironic, considering the incredible ballooning of China’s government debt in the years that followed. Yet, what was apparent was that from the Chinese leadership’s perspective, there was a reassessment and rebalancing of the relationship that was taking place. Ling Wei, a professor of international studies at the China Foreign Affairs University in Beijing, has argued that while domestic concerns were the priority and there was an uneasiness about committing to international responsibilities beyond China’s capabilities, most Chinese scholars at the time agreed that the country had to adopt a more proactive diplomacy.¹¹ This would soon reflect in the policy choices of the government. In November 2009, for the first time, a joint statement between the leaders of China and the US talked about both sides respecting each other’s ‘core interests’.¹² Assessing the significance of the phrase at the time, Michael Swaine argued that its application to contentious policy issues, such as territorial disputes, ‘signals an attempt by a stronger, more assertive Chinese leadership to elicit greater respect and deference from other nations for China’s position on those issues’.¹³

This would soon become evident, irrespective of the official rhetoric about peaceful rise and development. In 2009, China began stamping visas on a separate sheet attached to passports of residents of the Indian state of Jammu and Kashmir. It had earlier done this for residents of the Indian state of Arunachal Pradesh, much of which it claims as South Tibet. This presaged the intensification of incursions and jockeying for advantage across the disputed boundary between the two sides that would follow in the decade ahead. For its maritime neighbours, in 2010, then Chinese foreign minister Yang Jiechi—who in 2017 would go on to become the only diplomat in the powerful 25-member Politburo—delivered a not-so-subtle message at a forum in Hanoi. ‘China’, Yang told states raising the South China Sea dispute, ‘is a big country and other countries are small countries and that is just a fact.’¹⁴ In the months and years that followed, there was a marked shift in Beijing’s approach to the region, which resulted in standoffs, ramming of vessels, greater power projection and subsequent island-building and militarisation.

Yan Xuetong, one of China’s foremost strategic thinkers, believes that the year 2010 was a turning point in terms of the country’s international status.¹⁵ It was the year when China surpassed Japan to become the world’s second-largest economy. At the same time, tensions with regard to territorial disputes intensified, and Sino-US relations began to drift into greater contestation. In a series of speeches through the fall of 2011, the Barack Obama-led US administration would announce its pivot or rebalancing towards the Asia-Pacific. Assessing the shift, a Congressional Research Service note in March 2012 argued that ‘the perception among many that the “rebalancing” is targeted against China could strengthen the hand of Chinese hard-liners. Such an impression could also potentially make it more difficult for the United States to gain China’s cooperation on a range of issues’.¹⁶ This, in many ways, was a prescient observation, although, as previously discussed, the authoritarian turn in Chinese politics and assertion in foreign policy were products of many more factors than simply a response to US policy.

Two months after taking over as Foreign Minister in March 2013, Wang Yi told a forum at Tsinghua University that the world was ‘undergoing changes as never seen before’ and China was already ‘standing under the world’s limelight’ with there being greater ‘expectation for a fast-growing China to undertake its due responsibilities and make greater contribution to world peace and common development’.¹⁷ Responding to this, he added, the Xi administration was ‘exploring the path of major-country diplomacy’.¹⁸ What this entailed was a rebalancing of ties with other major powers, prioritising the neighbourhood, supporting multilateralism, pursuing economic openness and development, taking an active part in managing hotspot issues and emphasising morality in international affairs. In November that year, Xi would lead a landmark conference on neighbourhood diplomacy, calling for the country to ‘strive to win a sound surrounding environment for China’s development’.¹⁹ For Yan Xuetong, this signalled ‘a transformation of China’s foreign strategy’, ending the debate between those wanting Beijing to keep a low profile and others who called for a more active foreign policy.²⁰ China under Xi, he assessed, was looking to move away from a ‘superficial friendship’ with the US to ‘peaceful competition’.²¹ Analysts in Washington concurred; they said Beijing’s call for a new type of major power relationship with the US reflected its ‘desire to adjust the relationship to better accommodate China’s rise’.²²

A year later, Xi would convene the first Central Conference on Work Relating to Foreign Affairs in eight years. The meeting brought together the Party’s central and local leadership, along with key military officials and just about every Chinese ambassador and consul-general with ambassadorial rank. He told them that China’s ‘relations with the rest of the world are going through profound changes.... China’s dependence on the world and its involvement in international affairs are deepening, so are the world’s dependence on China and its impact on China’.²³ Consequently, China must ‘develop a distinctive diplomatic approach befitting its role of a major country’, which comprises ‘a salient Chinese feature and a Chinese vision’.²⁴ Examining the evolution of Xi’s approach to diplomacy, Wang Jianwei has argued that while previous Chinese leaders since Mao believed that China was at the periphery or semi-periphery of the Western-dominated international system, for Xi, China was moving to the centre.²⁵ Under his leadership, therefore, foreign policy began to be imbued by not just greater ambition but also a self-perception of being a great, or major, power. And as a major power, China must not only pursue the capability but also demonstrate the will to ‘engineer a more favorable external environment’.²⁶ This has manifested in the articulation of a vision, albeit a rather vague one, of building a community of shared future for mankind.

In practical terms, this vision has entailed demonstrating greater resolve to uphold China’s sovereignty and security interests,²⁷ while continuing to deepen economic engagement with the world at large, as evident by repeated affirmations of sticking to the path of reform and opening up. The latter, however, is not the product of an ideological predilection towards free markets and trade, but rather the outcome of a pragmatic assessment of China’s strategic interests. In China’s bilateral relations under Xi, consequently, there is a deeper strand of transactionalism and even coercion. At the same time, Xi has called on the diplomatic cadre to boost ‘strategic confidence’ in the Party-state governance system and codified the desire to actively engage in new forms of multilateralism while pursuing global governance reform as a critical component of his thought on diplomacy.²⁸ This has entailed setting up new institutions, initiatives and forums—such as the Belt and Road Initiative (BRI), the Asian Infrastructure Investment Bank (AIIB), the 17+1 platform for cooperation with Central and Eastern European countries and China and the Community of Latin American and Caribbean Nations Forum—while also expanding China’s stake in the existing system.

Contrary to arguments about the CCP wanting to upend the international order, the Chinese leadership continues to see value in sustaining the global institutional architecture. In fact, its actions demonstrate that it understands that power and legitimacy derived through a shared set of norms and rules among international actors are core ingredients in building global authority. As former Indian Foreign Secretary Vijay Gokhale argued in the New York Times, ‘Why would China go to the trouble of capsizing the global order when it can simply take it over, whole and intact?’²⁹ In this sense, China under Xi is indeed revisionist, but not a revolutionary power as yet. Consequently, the CCP has pursued measures to make multilateral institutions more amenable to serving its strategic interests, the most important of which is to boost the regime’s legitimacy and ensure its continued survival. This has come in the form of increased material support along with the effort to emphasise norms that suit China’s agenda while seeking to redefine those that do not. For instance, Chinese diplomats tend to stress on the centrality of the principle of sovereignty in governing international affairs. And within this context, they have furthered demands for greater democratisation of international affairs. In practice, this has entailed a pushback against the idea of the universality of human rights. Along with this, the CCP has prioritised efforts to ensure that its cadre assume leadership positions in multilateral agencies. The quid pro quo with regard to Pakistan’s greylisting at the Financial Action Task Force in February 2018 was a case in point.³⁰ Of the 15 key UN agencies, 4 are today headed by Chinese officials. In some cases, these individuals have been unabashed in their effort to push Beijing’s interests. For example, Houlin Zhao, Secretary-General of International Telecommunication Union, has been rather transparent in his support for China’s 5G development and efforts to ‘inject new wisdom into global digital governance’.³¹

Importantly, this mission creep by Beijing had been bolstered by the US’ pull back from multilateral institutions under the Trump presidency. And in 2020, amid the COVID-19 pandemic, this would lead to greater friction between the two sides, as evident in the wrangling over the WHO’s decisions. For Beijing, meanwhile, the pandemic provided an opportunity to further demonstrate its credentials as a major power.

The Health Silk Road

In late February, the Chinese foreign minister spoke to his counterparts from Italy and Iran.³² Both countries had recorded a rapid rise in COVID-19 cases through the second half of the month. Emphasising that the outbreak had been ‘effectively brought under control’ in China, Wang Yi pledged epidemic prevention and control and medical treatment support for both countries. This, he said, would be a step in building a ‘Health Silk Road through shared efforts’. The concept of the Health Silk Road was first brought up in 2017. At the time, it had received the WHO’s endorsement as a ‘visionary’ enterprise.³³ But amid the pandemic, this would become a cornerstone of Beijing’s diplomatic effort. What the Health Silk Road broadly entailed was export and provision of healthcare supplies and medical equipment, dispatching medical aid teams, provision of surveillance and contact tracing support and sharing of expertise. All of this would then feed into the broader narrative of China acting as a responsible major power at the international stage.

While the Trump administration was hinting at reduced funding for the WHO, in early March, the Chinese government pledged US$ 20 million for the body to fight COVID-19.³⁴ Xi then spoke to UN Secretary-General Antonio Guterres, emphasising China’s support for the UN, WHO and developing countries. China, Xi told Guterres, ‘stands ready to share its experience with other countries ... and offer as much assistance as it can to countries where the disease is spreading’.³⁵ A few weeks later, he re-emphasised this stance at an extraordinary G20 meeting. ‘Guided by the vision of building a community with a shared future for mankind’, Xi said that ‘China will be more than ready to share our good practices, conduct joint research and development of drugs and vaccines, and provide assistance where we can to countries hit by the growing outbreak’.³⁶ This confidence was a product of the success of virus containment measures at home along with the expansion of China’s health supplies manufacturing capacity.

Prior to the pandemic, Chinese manufacturers and exporters accounted for more than 50 percent of global imports of respirator masks and surgical masks, medical goggles and protective garments.³⁷ In the immediate aftermath of the lockdown in Hubei, the country’s leadership launched a national effort to further ramp up production of healthcare supplies, including PPE, face masks, COVID-19 testing kits and ventilators. Along with this, reports informed that PPE producers were forced to sell every unit they made to the Chinese government.³⁸ In its report towards the end of February, the WHO–China Joint Mission noted that when it came to essential medical supplies, the Chinese government ‘restored production and expanded production capacity, organized key enterprises that have already started to exceed current production capacity’.³⁹ At the same time, given the spike in domestic demand, there was also a surge in imports. Premier Li Keqiang also called on the EU to coordinate with member states to provide medical supplies on an urgent basis.⁴⁰ In fact, several countries including the US and India sent supplies to support China in its time of need. An assessment by Chad P. Brown for the Peterson Institute for International Economics notes,

China imported 8.7 million more kilograms of masks over the first two months of 2020 than it did over the same period in 2019. It also exported 22.8 million fewer kilograms of masks. Combined, there were thus 31.6 million fewer kilograms of masks on the world market for import by other countries in January and February 2020.⁴¹

In essence, China’s net exports of masks to the world dropped by 24 percent year-on-year during the January–February 2020 period. By March, the tide was beginning to turn. Brown writes that China’s net exports of masks were only 5 percent less in March 2020 relative to 2019.⁴² The numbers would only get better going forward, allowing the CCP to pursue more aggressive diplomacy to shape the narrative and attempt to recover from the reputational hit that it had suffered.

From late February onwards, the Chinese government not only provided medical aid but also set up consultative exchanges between medical experts with a number of different countries. This was often done on a bilateral basis, with the local Chinese embassies overseeing and publicising the delivery of supplies in elaborate ceremonies. In that sense, this was a deeply political exercise for Beijing, with state media emphasising the extent of China’s support for other countries and the gratefulness of recipients. In addition, at least seven editions of diagnostic and therapeutic protocols and six editions of containment plans were published to disseminate the best practices of the Chinese virus containment approach. Chinese multinational enterprises also leveraged the opportunity to expand their influence by extending support through donations. For instance, the Alibaba Foundation, the Jack Ma Foundation, Huawei, Xiaomi, Oppo and others donated medical supplies and supported governments in their efforts to contain the virus. At the same time, Beijing dispatched medical aid teams to assist other countries, facilitated infrastructure building in countries such as Pakistan, extended economic support to countries such as Sri Lanka and held bilateral and multilateral seminars to share learnings and expertise. Chinese government representatives also utilised different multilateral forums, such as the Shanghai Cooperation Organisation (SCO), Asia-Pacific Economic Cooperation (APEC), Caribbean Community and the 17+1 mechanism, and engaged with international and regional organisations such as Association of Southeast Asian Nations (ASEAN), the EU and the African Union, projecting China’s leadership in the fight to contain the virus. In mid-April, China signed on to a G20 initiative to suspend debt payments by some of the world’s poorest countries.⁴³ The Debt Service Suspension Initiative covered money due to be paid to G20 governments up to the end of 2020. It was later extended to a period of June 2021.

In late May, Xi addressed the WHA meeting, which announced an international probe into the virus’ origin. He told the gathering that ‘China stands for the vision of building a community with a shared future for mankind’, and ‘takes it as its responsibility to ensure not just the life and health of its own citizens, but also global public health’. In tangible terms, this meant a pledge of US$ 2 billion over two years for the WHO to deal with COVID-19 fast-tracking of anti-epidemic supplies, capacity development commitments with regard to African states and a promise of making the COVID-19 vaccine a ‘global public good’. While much was made of this pledge, what Xi meant by this was, of course, rather unclear. By definition, a public good is non-excludable and non-rivalrous. A vaccine that would invariably be much sought after does not necessarily satisfy either of these criteria. But, perhaps, rather than approaching it from a definitional perspective, it is much more useful to draw parallels from China’s description of BRI projects as public goods. This approach largely accords with subsequent developments, which indicate that Xi implied that China would be open to supplying vaccines to developing countries and BRI partner states on a priority basis and would likely provide financial support in the form of loans for their procurement efforts. The following month, Xi reiterated his support for African states during an Extraordinary China–Africa Summit on Solidarity against COVID-19.⁴⁴ He also announced the cancellation of interest-free government loans that were due to mature by the end of 2020.⁴⁵

The Chinese government’s white paper, which was issued in early June, summarised these efforts, providing useful data points. It claimed:

As of May 31, China had sent 29 medical expert teams to 27 countries, and offered assistance to 150 countries and 4 international organizations. It has instructed its medical teams stationed in 56 countries to support the local fight, and provide counseling and health information to local people and overseas Chinese. They have so far organized over 400 online and offline training sessions in this regard. Local governments, enterprises, non-governmental organizations and individuals in China have donated materials to more than 150 countries and regions, and international organizations through various channels.⁴⁶

In addition, the Chinese government said that the country’s National Health Commission had ‘worked out diagnosis, treatment, prevention and control solutions’, which had been translated into three languages, and shared with over 180 countries and more than 10 international and regional organisations.⁴⁷ Emphasising the role of the top leadership, the white paper said that Xi had engaged ‘with nearly 50 foreign leaders and heads of international organizations’, telling them about ‘China’s tactics and achievements in fighting the virus’.⁴⁸ These efforts, along with debt suspension for developing countries, according to the white paper, demonstrated Beijing’s ‘sense of responsibility as a major country’.⁴⁹ Wang Yi was emphatic in saying that China had ‘spoken up with its actions’ and ‘acted as a responsible major country’, winning ‘high recognition from the international community’.

‘Politics of Generosity’

For Josep Borrell, the EU’s foreign policy chief, such an articulation by Beijing was part of a ‘global battle of narratives’.⁵⁰ Speaking in late March, he warned that key global powers were engaging in ‘the politics of generosity’ in their ‘struggle for influence’.⁵¹ Through late February and early March, it was clear that European states had been slow to respond to the spread of the virus, and even when the EU did get its act together, its communications strategy was far from optimal.⁵² For instance, it was only on 19 March that the EU announced the establishment of the strategic rescEU stockpile of medical equipment, which could also be availed by select non-EU states such as Serbia.⁵³ The backlash against the EU’s early failure was evident in Italy, a BRI partner-state and the worst-hit European country at the time. A Monitor Italia poll in March showed that 88 percent of Italians believed the EU had not done enough to help during the outbreak.⁵⁴ The same poll showed 67 percent of Italians believed that EU membership had been a disadvantage for Italy. Acknowledging these sentiments, EU Commission President Ursula von der Leyen would later apologise to Italy for the bloc’s failure to come to its aid.⁵⁵

China, in the meantime, had leveraged the opportunity of extending support into a public relations exercise.⁵⁶ State media highlighted the EU’s failures in supporting Italy.⁵⁷ The arrival of Chinese medical teams in the country was live-streamed on social media and showcased by state media.⁵⁸ Cinitalia, a bilingual magazine produced by Chinese state media organs, was sent to Italian parliamentarians to highlight the positive aspects of the bilateral relationship.⁵⁹ The local Chinese embassy used rather creative graphics, depicting medical professionals from China and Italy carrying the burden of their nations amid the crisis to promote solidarity on social media.⁶⁰ Chinese foreign ministry officials in Beijing would take this PR campaign one step further. Spokespersons Hua Chunying and Zhao Lijian both shared doctored videos purportedly showing Italians chanting Grazie, Cina! and clapping as the Chinese national anthem played in the background.⁶¹ Italian media outlet Formiche quoted an unidentified legislator describing Beijing’s propaganda campaign in the country as continuous captatio benevolentiae (effort to win goodwill).⁶² At home, meanwhile, state media and Chinese officials highlighted the appreciation that Beijing’s efforts had evoked. ‘Today, as China has succeeded in this battle, it has not forgotten those friends who are now in need of support,’ read the beginning of an article highlighting messages of gratitude emanating from ordinary Italians.⁶³

In the days leading up to Borrell’s comments about a geopolitical narrative contest, leaders from Hungary,⁶⁴ Czech Republic and Serbia had been profuse in their praise for Beijing. At the same time, some of them underplayed the support they were receiving from the EU.⁶⁵ Nevertheless, statements about China being the ‘only country that has helped’ them would be emphasised by Chinese state media.⁶⁶ As was the outburst by Serbian President Aleksandar Vucic.⁶⁷ Serbia is a potential EU membership candidate, but Vucic lambasted the idea of European solidarity as ‘fairy tale on paper’.⁶⁸ He added that his ‘personal hopes’ were ‘focused on and directed toward China and its president’.⁶⁹ Soon after his remarks, China’s ambassador to Serbia, Chen Bo, confirmed that Beijing had approved a donation of health supplies for Serbia. Vucic would eventually display his gratitude by kissing the Chinese flag while greeting Chinese doctors arriving in Belgrade. The aid packages that they brought with them bore text in Chinese and Cyrillic, reading ‘The friendship of steel, we share weal and woe!’⁷⁰

This, of course, was not exclusive to Serbia. Medical supplies to many other countries also carried similar messages of solidarity tailored to local audiences. That is precisely what Beijing argued it was doing, that is, displaying solidarity at a time of global crisis. But the bombast was clearly grating on the Europeans. In part, it exacerbated long-standing concerns within the EU about Beijing’s growing economic and political influence impinging on the bloc’s unity and global power equations. This concern was reflected in the EU’s acknowledgment of China as ‘a systemic rival’ in a 2019 strategy document.⁷¹ More immediately, however, China had reportedly requested discretion by international donors during its hour of need.⁷² Estimates showed that by the end of February, EU member states had sent 30 million tonnes of equipment to China, while the European Commission had co-financed an additional 25 tonnes of masks, gloves, disinfectants and PPE.⁷³ None of this was done with any fanfare. Beijing was showing no such discretion in return.

In several European countries, there was also pushback over the depiction of Chinese health supplies as donations. Of course, there were a number of Chinese local governments and enterprises that had provided donations across Europe. But these quantities were significantly smaller than the volume of commercially procured materials by countries.⁷⁴ For instance, in late March, Spain announced a US$ 467 million deal to procure masks, test kits, respirators and gloves.⁷⁵ Likewise, Hungary, Greece, Bulgaria, France and Italy spent significant amounts on purchase of Chinese health supplies.⁷⁶ What further added to the resentment with Beijing, and this was not just limited to European countries, was concern over the quality of these Chinese products. Reports of faulty COVID-19 test kits and substandard face masks from the Netherlands, Belgium, Spain, Turkey, Slovakia, Britain, Georgia, India, Nepal and the Czech Republic stirred anger over the prospect of economic exploitation amid an unprecedented health crisis.⁷⁷ Beijing’s response to these concerns ranged from awkward, defensive and even damaging statements criticising the media, foreign officials and governments to taking tangible steps to strengthen certification of products and supervision of manufacturers. For instance, in early April, the Chinese foreign ministry’s Hua Chunying hit out at ‘irresponsible’ media reportage about ‘so-called quality problems of Chinese anti-epidemic products’, adding that she hoped such reports were not ‘published out of ulterior motives’.⁷⁸ She also called on countries ‘to double-check the instructions for use (of face masks) to make sure what they purchase can serve their intended purposes and avoid making mistakes in a rush, such as misusing non-surgical masks for surgical purposes’.⁷⁹ In the case of criticism over test kits in Spain, the Chinese embassy said that the supplier, Shenzhen Bioeasy Biotechnology, was not on Beijing’s list of certified providers nor a supplier to aid packages organised by Chinese companies.⁸⁰ Shenzhen Bioeasy Biotechnology, meanwhile, argued that Spanish doctors had used the test kits the wrong way.⁸¹

Amid this, the Chinese foreign ministry did concede that ‘a combination of factors, from insufficient communication between two sides to unfamiliarity of operators with new products, from illegal production activities to loopholes in foreign market, could cause problems’ with products. These, it added, ‘should not be read through a political lens’.⁸² In all fairness, the Chinese government had been cracking down on manufacturers of counterfeit masks and thermal temperature guns and disinfectants. In early March, the State Administration of Market Supervision announced that it had seized over 80 million faulty masks and around 370,000 defective or fake disinfectants in the prior month.⁸³ The New York Times reported in late March that thousands of companies and individuals had been punished for offenses such as making counterfeits or price gouging.⁸⁴ Some of the counterfeiters, producing poor quality medical products, were even threatened with life imprisonment. China’s General Administration of Customs and National Medical Products Administration also tightened certification criteria for export of COVID-related supplies. Earlier, these products were only required to meet certification criteria of their destination—a document that could apparently be easily faked. The new guideline demanded a declaration that the products were officially registered in China and met the quality control standards of their export destinations too. These steps were generally welcomed, although they did lead to delays in shipments and consequent criticism from the US State Department.⁸⁵ But in a larger sense, they did little to allay concerns about Beijing’s broader agenda. For instance, even in late April, the Chinese embassy in India was defending Chinese products, saying that it was ‘unfair and irresponsible for certain individuals to label Chinese products as faulty’ and demanding that the Indian side ‘respect China’s goodwill and sincerity’ rather than falling prey to ‘preemptive prejudice’.⁸⁶

Discussing the mood in European capitals, Andrew Small, Senior Transatlantic Fellow at the German Marshall Fund of the United States, argued that although public opinion was fairly skeptical about China’s role, early on there was a sense that the health crisis needed to be prioritised and that politics could wait. However, Beijing’s aggressive diplomacy had catalysed new thinking. There was a growing sense in Europe that China had ‘encouraged this narrative that Europe is failing, other member states are failing, and China is the only one who can help’.⁸⁷ This invariably resulted in a narrative pushback by the EU, emphasising that Beijing’s support was a matter of reciprocity.⁸⁸ Moreover, the dependence on Chinese supplies at a time of crisis also invigorated discussions among member states about the need to have tighter investment screening to protect critical assets and technologies,⁸⁹ build ‘resilient supply chains, based on diversification’⁹⁰ and strengthen ‘economic sovereignty’.⁹¹ Once again, this was not something limited to Europe. Similar conversations were taking place in the US, Japan, Australia, India and elsewhere.

Apart from the PR campaign around anti-epidemic supplies, official Chinese readouts of conversations between world leaders and Xi Jinping never failed to emphasise how thankful they were for the ‘valuable support’ they were receiving and their appreciation for the Chinese government’s ‘tremendous courage’ in containing the outbreak early.⁹² Along with this, Chinese ambassadors from different parts of the world, including Europe, would publish essays in the People’s Daily, emphasising the appreciation of global leaders and populations for China’s actions and support. Beijing’s policies amid the pandemic, they would argue, had furthered the goal of building a community of common destiny. For instance, China’s ambassador to Poland, Liu Guangyuan, talked about letters of support sent to the embassy and proclaimed that China had ‘become the most trustworthy and reliable force for international cooperation in the fight against the pandemic’.⁹³ Zhang Qiyue, the Chinese ambassador to Greece, stressed that the Greek government ‘hopes to learn from China’s experience’ in combating the virus.⁹⁴ Zhang Ming, chief of China’s EU mission, talked about being asked by ‘European colleagues and friends’ about the most important aspect of China’s fight against the virus. ‘I told them’, he wrote in People’s Daily, ‘that China relies on the strong leadership of the Party Central Committee with Comrade Xi Jinping at the core, and the high level of trust between the people and the government.’⁹⁵ These commentaries and efforts to highlight statements of praise were, of course, meant predominantly for domestic audiences. But it would be naive to assume that such narrative framing would not have foreign policy implications. In fact, the adverse impacts of these narrative control efforts on foreign relations were evident in two incidents in late April and early May. In the first case, the New York Times reported that EU officials had softened their criticism of China in their report discussing how governments had pushed disinformation about the coronavirus pandemic. It talked about frustration among some European diplomats and analysts about the EU ‘self-censoring to appease the Chinese Communist Party’.⁹⁶ Thereafter, in early May, China Daily edited parts of an English opinion piece co-authored by 27 European ambassadors to China.⁹⁷ The People’s Daily failed to publish the Chinese-language version of the piece. Although the EU mission in China had agreed to the English edit, the episode left a bad taste in the mouth for many in Brussels. The EU’s report assessing narratives and disinformation around the pandemic was eventually made public on 20 May. It was critical of both Chinese and Russian efforts to spread disinformation and conspiracy theories while highlighting the ‘expanding nature of the Chinese influence toolbox—including a more confrontational tone and “Russian-style disinformation tactics”’.⁹⁸

Pandemic Opportunism

All of this tied into the broader narrative of Beijing being opportunistic amid a global crisis to exploit and coerce others while furthering its strategic objectives. In mid-March, People’s Liberation Army (PLA) jets crossed the median line in the Taiwan Strait in a nighttime drill.⁹⁹ This was the fourth time in two months that Chinese jets had forced Taiwan’s air force to scramble in response. At the same time, China’s first aircraft carrier, the Liaoning, set out for takeoff and landing drills in the Bohai Strait. Hailing the exercises, the Chinese armed forces’ flagship newspaper, the PLA Daily, boasted that ‘war preparedness will not be stopped even in the middle of the COVID-19 epidemic’.¹⁰⁰ A few days later, on 30 March, a Chinese fishing vessel collided with a Japanese destroyer, the Shimakaze, in the East China Sea.¹⁰¹ Soon after, a Vietnamese fishing boat was sunk after being hit by a Chinese vessel near the Paracel Islands in the South China Sea. The Chinese side reportedly briefly detained the eight-member Vietnamese crew.¹⁰² In the weeks that followed, the Liaoning sailed through the South China Sea and near Taiwan. The State Council announced the establishment of two new districts in Sansha City, a prefecture-level city headquartered on Woody Island, which was established in 2012 in order to govern the bulk of China’s territorial claims in the region.¹⁰³ For the first time since 1983, Chinese authorities issued standard names for 80 islands, reefs and other geographical features around the Spratly and Paracel Island chains, emphasising Beijing’s sovereignty over these features.¹⁰⁴

‘It appears to be business as usual for the PLA,’ observed Collin Koh, a maritime security expert at Nanyang Technological University in Singapore, adding that there had been ‘no apparent pause or reduction at all’ in Chinese activity in the South China Sea.¹⁰⁵ Kelsey Broderick, a China analyst at the Eurasia Group, argued that through its maritime assertion, the Chinese leadership was in all likelihood looking to ‘both send a message to other countries involved in the South China Sea that China will not back down under any circumstances, and send a message to a domestic population about the strong leadership of the party’.¹⁰⁶ Other analysts claimed that while Beijing was likely probing adversaries and seeking opportunities, its actions also suggest that it was seeking to demonstrate the PLA’s robustness as a deterrent to potential adversaries.¹⁰⁷ Taylor Fravel, the director of the Security Studies Program at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, argued that these actions demonstrated ‘continuity in China’s behavior, not opportunism’.¹⁰⁸

Nevertheless, for American officials, and indeed those in countries along China’s periphery, there was more to the PLA’s actions. In fact, there was a growing sense that the Chinese leadership was pushing the envelope on territorial disputes, taking advantage of its success in containing the virus while others struggled. Beijing, the US State Department argued, was ‘exploiting the distraction’ of the pandemic to ‘assert unlawful maritime claims’.¹⁰⁹ The Chinese side would push back against such a characterisation of its actions, arguing that it was the US that was sending ‘warships and planes to make waves in the South China Sea’ and demanding that Washington ‘stop linking the pandemic with maritime issues’.¹¹⁰ Foreign Minister Wang Yi would even argue that there was ‘nothing to support the claim that China is using COVID-19 to expand its presence in the South China Sea’. Such rhetoric from Beijing, however, obfuscated the fact that there was a pattern of behaviour emerging when it came to matters of core interests.

While the churn in the maritime domain was intensifying, the PLA would open another front in the west. In late April, Indian intelligence inputs informed about PLA troop movement along the Line of Actual Control (LAC) in Eastern Ladakh.¹¹¹ The LAC separates Indian-controlled territory from Chinese-controlled territory across the 3,488 km long disputed boundary between the two neighbours. It is neither formally defined, demarcated or delineated. Rather, actual control and regular patrols have over time created a customary understanding of the LAC for both armies. In early May, Indian media reports talked about scuffles between soldiers in different sectors along the LAC.¹¹² Initially, both sides sought to downplay the incidents.¹¹³ Given the ambiguity around the LAC, on average, each year, there are hundreds of incidents of transgressions by border troops from both sides. On occasion, these have evolved into prolonged standoffs. For instance, it took 20 days to resolve the Depsang standoff in 2013, while the one in Chumar in 2014 was settled within 16 days. The 2017 Doklam standoff, on the other hand, was qualitatively different. It involved Chinese incursions into territory disputed with Bhutan, but located along the tri-junction with India. This impinged directly on immediate Indian security interests and violated an apparent understanding that the Special Representatives of India and China on boundary issues had arrived at regarding tri-junctions in 2012. The standoff took well over two months to resolve. In Eastern Ladakh in 2020, weeks after the first reports of PLA incursions, it started to become clear that these were not routine transgressions owing to differing perceptions of the LAC. The PLA had ingressed deep into Indian-controlled territory, blocking Indian patrols. In addition, the Chinese side had built encampments and trenches and expanded troops and weapons build-up, suggesting that this was an effort in changing the territorial status quo by presenting India with a fait accompli. While doing so, Beijing blamed Indian troops for transgressing and obstructing PLA patrols, and warned of ‘countermeasures’.¹¹⁴ These warnings came even as military commanders from both sides discussed the modalities of easing tensions. In early June, there appeared to be some signs of a breakthrough in disengagement,¹¹⁵ but any such prospect fell by the wayside on the night of 15 June. Violent clashes between Indian and Chinese troops in the Galwan Valley resulted in the first fatalities along the LAC in 45 years. In that sense, this was a watershed moment. For New Delhi, there were echoes of 1962, when the two sides had fought a brief war after the bonhomie of the early 1950s rapidly gave way to abiding mistrust. Like then, as now for New Delhi, two years of the pageantry of informal summits and positive rhetoric at the highest levels had apparently yielded little more than China’s perfidy and opportunism, and that too at a time when India was struggling to tackle a historic crisis. Diplomacy and military posturing would continue at different levels, but the two sides now seemed to be locked into a dynamic of deeper strategic competition for the foreseeable future.

From Beijing’s perspective, this intensified aggression on matters of territorial integrity and sovereignty was not just limited to its external boundaries. It was also evident in its approach to consolidate domestic control. In late February, Hong Kong police arrested media tycoon Jimmy Lai, an outspoken critic of the Communist Party, over his participation in a protest march on 31 August 2019. Reports also informed that the vice chairman of the opposition Labour Party, Lee Cheuk-yan, was detained in connection with the march. Xinhua’s coverage of the arrest labelled Lai as one of the ‘black hands’ behind the 2019 protests in the city.¹¹⁶ The crackdown on opposition leaders continued with the arrest of the Democratic Party’s Cheng Lai-king on charges of ‘seditious intention’ in connection to a Facebook post,¹¹⁷ followed by the detention of former lawmakers Martin Lee, Albert Ho and Leung Kwok-hung among others.¹¹⁸ On 15 April, as China marked its National Security Education Day, Luo Huining, the new head of China’s liaison office in Hong Kong, called for the introduction of a new national security legislation under Article 23 of the Basic Law to combat radical violence, foreign interference and pro-independence forces.¹¹⁹ Over the next few weeks, statements from Beijing indicated that the central leadership was quickly moving to enact such a legislation.¹²⁰ In early May, China’s Hong Kong and Macao Affairs Office lashed out at the protesters. ‘The scorched-earth action of the black-clad violent protesters is a political virus in Hong Kong society’, which, it said, must be eliminated.¹²¹ Later that month, Chinese officials confirmed that the government was considering a draft national security legislation. On 28 May, the NPC announced that it had adopted a decision to enact a national security law in Hong Kong.¹²² Reports informed that the Standing Committee of the NPC would now discuss the draft. This process, even in the Chinese system, is not necessarily straightforward. Draft laws are ideally required to be opened up for public comment and consultation. This requirement was done away with in the case of Hong Kong’s national security law. Instead, Beijing engaged in high-pitched propaganda around superficial signature campaigns,¹²³ coercion¹²⁴ and demanded that local politicians and bureaucrats throw their weight behind the decision.¹²⁵ This was important as the mainland had essentially taken charge of the legislative process, arguing that authorities in Hong Kong had failed in their efforts to enact a national security legislation as required under the Basic Law, the mini constitution that governs the region.¹²⁶ Mainland officials also argued that they were right in doing so since national security was a subject that fell under the remit of the central government.¹²⁷ Officials in Hong Kong were reportedly taken by surprise by the central leadership’s move, but quickly fell in line.¹²⁸ The Hong Kong Bar Association was less sanguine, arguing that the draft decision had revealed a ‘number of worrying and problematic features pertaining to the proposed HK National Security Law’.¹²⁹ There was also significant international criticism, but little threat of costs being imposed on Beijing, apart from the US warning that it would revoke Hong Kong’s special status. For the first time since the handover of Hong Kong from Britain to the PRC in 1997, the issue of its autonomy was raised at the UN Security Council.¹³⁰ But action at this level was always going to be a non-starter. EU foreign ministers expressed ‘grave concern’ in a joint statement, but did not commit to anything other than further discussions.¹³¹

Beijing, therefore, would continue down its chosen path. It had already issued demarches to several countries, including India, seeking support for the new law.¹³² The People’s Daily would later put out a list of the countries that were supporting Beijing’s policies in Hong Kong.¹³³ In addition, the Chinese government would leverage the support provided to African states amid the pandemic to ensure that the joint statement following the June solidarity summit expressly supported the implementation of the national security law.¹³⁴ At the same time, Beijing would push back on criticism of human rights violations in Hong Kong by pointing to the Trump administration’s response to the Black Lives Matter protests. The movement, which saw scenes of violence and rioting, had erupted after the death of George Floyd, an African-American man killed while being brutally restrained by Minneapolis police in late May.

This contestation with regard to the narrative on human rights has long been Beijing’s policy. In 1998, the Chinese government issued its first report on human rights violations by the US. This was in response to the US State Department’s annual assessment of other countries. Over time, these reports have focussed on development issues, economic inequality, religious discrimination, hate crimes, racial tensions, violence against women and rights violations owing to US foreign policy.¹³⁵ Under Xi, with China’s economic clout on the rise, there had been an intensification of this effort to shape the global discourse around human rights and project China’s economic development as an endeavour in furthering them. In 2017, this effort manifested in representatives of over 70 countries and international organisations signing the first ever Beijing Declaration adopted by the First South-South Human Rights Forum. The declaration called for adherence to ‘the principle of combining the universality and specificity of human rights’ calling on states to ‘choose a human rights development path or guarantee model that suits their specific conditions’.¹³⁶

In March 2020, with the pandemic situation easing in China and worsening around the world, Beijing had already been arguing that its containment of the virus was a human rights success. Chinese media and analysts referred to discussions about herd immunity in the UK and Sweden as examples of the West’s ‘total surrender ... without regard for human life’.¹³⁷ The US government’s mishandling of the pandemic was repeatedly lambasted as ‘self-interested, short-sighted, inefficient, and irresponsible’, resulting in ‘grave human rights disasters’.¹³⁸ In contrast, China’s success was presented as a demonstration of ‘the country’s moral principle of placing people and lives in the first place’, ensuring that people could enjoy the ‘right to life’.¹³⁹ Now with the Black Lives Matter protests raging across cities in the US and other Western countries, the Global Times would argue that the American police’s crackdown had exposed Washington’s ‘double standards’ when it came to Hong Kong.¹⁴⁰ Foreign Ministry’s Zhao Lijian quipped about the ‘restrained and civilized way of law enforcement by the Hong Kong police’ in comparison to Donald Trump threatening to use force against protesters. His colleague Hua Chunying invoked Floyd’s final words, tweeting ‘I can’t breathe’. Commentaries in the People’s Daily would repeatedly discuss US foreign policy failings, economic challenges and racial tensions. One of these characterised the US as ‘the most warlike country in the history’, which had helped create ‘hell’, leaving ‘tens of millions displaced’.¹⁴¹ Another attacked US immigration policy and use of sanctions as violating human rights of people around the world.¹⁴² The Party’s flagship paper also put out a controversial graphic, titled Disguise of Human Rights, depicting a police officer breaking through the robes of the statue of liberty towering over a blood-stained White House, crushing what appears to be the neck of an African-American man.¹⁴³ America’s social, economic and political fault lines along with the failure of the Trump administration to contain the pandemic were termed as signs of ‘political decay and illusion of “democracy”’.¹⁴⁴ In addition, there was intense advocacy about the US’ human rights failings by Beijing. For instance, the Chinese Society for Human Rights Studies (CSHRS) would co-host an event at the UN Human Rights Council (UNHRC) to discuss Racism and Social Discrimination in the USA.¹⁴⁵ Another such webinar with international experts organised by the CSHRS had Mao Junxiang, director of the Human Rights Studies Center at Central South University in China, telling them that ‘American society emphasizes universal equality. But, in reality, you will find out that disadvantaged groups lack of equal protection and many of them die from socioeconomic inequality. It’s only an ideal that all men are created equal’.¹⁴⁶

In the meantime, Beijing would vigorously defend its own human rights record in Xinjiang and Hong Kong, particularly pushing back against what it said were ‘malicious lies’.¹⁴⁷ In this backdrop, the NPC Standing Committee, which usually holds meetings once in two months, met twice in June for brief sessions. Despite the evident public opposition in Hong Kong,¹⁴⁸ it cleared the new law, which came into force on 1 July 2020—the 24th anniversary of Hong Kong’s handover from Britain to the PRC.¹⁴⁹ The law sought to tackle four vaguely defined offences, namely secession, subversion, terrorism and collusion with foreign or external forces to endanger national security. It also gave the central government overarching authority to investigate and prosecute individuals accused of these crimes. The US responded by initially suspending¹⁵⁰ and eventually ending preferential treatment for Hong Kong. Mike Pompeo warned that America ‘will not stand idly by while China swallows Hong Kong into its authoritarian maw’.¹⁵¹ Trump signed legislation authorising sanctions on Chinese officials responsible for cracking down on political dissent in Hong Kong.¹⁵² Beijing would criticise this, calling it Washington’s unilateralism. During the 44th session of the UNHRC on 30 June, Cuba read out a statement on behalf of 53 countries supporting the legislative change in Hong Kong. The Chinese foreign ministry would celebrate this, adding that representatives of over 20 other countries had also backed the law in their remarks during the session. Britain, meanwhile, read out a statement from 27 critical governments during the session. The US, unfortunately, was not a signatory to this. It had withdrawn from the institution in 2018. ‘A just cause’, Zhao Lijian would proclaim ‘rallies abundant support while an unjust one finds little.’¹⁵³