No, not really. Those who have been following ESWN’s interesting series on polls in Taipei may find the reality of the situation somewhat inexplicable, but here it is.

Taiwan’s ruling party defied expectations that it would be trounced in local elections Saturday, handing President Chen Shui-bian some breathing room after months of fighting off scandals. But the mixed results probably will result in continued political infighting at least through the 2008 presidential election, analysts said.

In the two most closely watched races, the ruling Democratic Progressive Party narrowly won the mayoral race in the city of Kaohsiung and the opposition Nationalists won handily in Taipei.

The elections were seen as a referendum on Chen, who has been battling corruption-related allegations for six months. Chen’s wife and three former aides were indicted last month on charges of embezzling $450,000 from a national affairs fund under presidential control. The prosecutor said Chen could face the same charges when his term – and presidential immunity – ends.

The Kaohsiung victory boosted morale in the president’s office: Pundits and opinion polls had predicted a humiliating loss for candidate Chen Chu. The results also bolstered the party’s reputation for running excellent grass-roots campaigns.

This was suposed to be a slam-dunk for the blues. Go figure.

Here’s an intriguing and disturbing article by a native Muscovite turned NY-based economist on how China has secured its position as, in effect, the linchpin of the world’s economy. The article is fascinating on multiple levels. First, there is its argument that Russia in effect committed suicide with its rush to democracy while China, by taking a different path, went on to become master of the universe. Second is its argument, which I find more compelling than the previous point, that any blow to the Chinese economy could reverberate to cause unimaginable fiscal strife for America (and thus the world). It’s an eyeful and should be read in full, but here’s a taste.

China’s rapid economic development is the most amazing story of the past decade — just as the collapse of the Soviet Union and Russia’s slide into irrelevance was the main historical event of the previous 10 years.

Until the mid-1980s, Russia and China vied for the supremacy of their respective brands of communism. Then, in the early 1990s, the focus of the rivalry shifted to the best model for transition to the free market.

After the Russian default in 1998, it became accepted wisdom that the Soviet Union should have delayed democratization, reforming its economy along Chinese lines first. The rollback of democracy and reassertion of the role of the state under President Vladimir Putin can be seen in this light as a shift toward the Chinese model.

As recently as at the turn of the century, Russia still seemed to be in the running. Even now, Chinese gross domestic product remains low on a per capita basis, and many Russians retain a sense of superiority toward everything Chinese, from goods to people. But the race for economic supremacy is over. After 25 years of annual growth averaging nearly 10 percent, China’s economy on a purchasing-power-parity basis is approaching $10 trillion, gaining inexorably on that of the United States. Its annual exports have increased sixfold in the past decade alone and measure close to $1 trillion.

China is not just an enormous producer of manufactured goods. In accordance with the Marxist law of transformation of quantity into quality, its global weight has increased substantially. It is now a linchpin of the East Asian manufacturing network. With its trade surplus breaking records, and its stock of direct foreign investment approaching half a trillion dollars and central bank reserves hitting $1 trillion, China is also a pivotal player in the global financial system.

After this comes the analysis of how China’s economic misfortune can (and most likely will) launch a global crisis hitherto unimaginable since the Great Depression.

Update: I was going to leave it at that but can’t resist quoting the final grafs:

During the Cold War, the Soviet Union could annihilate the United States with its nuclear weapons — and face instant annihilation in return — but it could not make a serious impact on its economy. China has emerged as probably the only nation in the world that can single-handedly undermine the U.S. economy. If China suffers an economic or political crisis, the United States will likely be plunged into a severe recession — if not an outright depression.

This scenario is ominously similar to that of the Great Depression of the 1930s, which was largely a U.S. crisis taking place after a decade of breakneck economic growth. The stock market crash occurred on Wall Street, but its shockwaves promptly spread around the world. Ultimately, the Depression marked the demise of British economic dominance and the end of the pound as a global currency. While the next global economic crisis is likely to originate in China, it will almost certainly mark the end of the dollar as the linchpin of the global financial system and a substantial diminution of the central role of the United States.

I do not see this as being at all unrealistic. Sobering stuff.

Via CDT.

For many years, I’ve had a sort of phobia about shopping malls. It came from growing up in San Diego and watching previously undeveloped coastal sage lands disappear into a morass of parking lots and franchises. Aside from hating what they did to once beautiful scenery, malls made me nervous. You could go to one and find the same things at another several states away – the same stores, the same products, the same muzak. Where was the creativity, the originality, the expression of culture? Is everything reducible to a commodity, and is that all we value? And even if so, what happened to all those quirky little businesses that were one of a kind? Was every form of commerce doomed to that which could be replicated on a mass scale?

So this kind of scares me:

With 30,000 stores crammed on four sprawling floors, International Trade City – about 200 miles south of Shanghai – is the largest wholesale mall in the world.

The S-shaped building, painted orange and pale yellow, is 18 million square feet. That’s about the equivalent of 350 football fields and about six times the size of Costa Mesa’s South Coast Plaza, one of the biggest shopping centers in the U.S.

You won’t find any cinemas or food courts here, but Yiwu officials boast that the market sells 400,000 different items. Situated in bustling Zhejiang province, the giant 4-year-old mall illustrates the power of China Inc. today: enormous scale and specialization, driven by ambitious private entrepreneurs.

(more…)

ESWN does us all a service with this translation of a blog post on how blogging is developing in China. (You can find the original Chinese version here.) It sounds like Chinese bloggers are finally learning how to use blogs to get things done and to interconnect, as opposed to using them simply as a place to post some personal poems, essays and photos.

Now, if only the blogger had avoided the hackneyed phrase about Chinese blogs having “strong Chinese characteristics.” The characteristics she describes actually sound pretty universal – e.g., blogs that get lots of links get noticed more than blogs that don’t, and some bloggers are using their sites to generate advertising revenues.

That’s certainly a good thing – but is it a serious attempt to stamp out (or at least rein in) corruption, or is it mainly for show? You decide.

China’s Communist Party leaders have quietly filled top anti-corruption spots in Beijing, Shanghai and Tianjin this week in a bid to stem embarrassing scandals linked to public pension funds and the construction industry.

The move is also aimed at sending a signal to ordinary Chinese and party members that the administration of President Hu Jintao is serious about cracking down on power abuses before the 17th Party Congress next fall. Senior officials have said they consider corruption a grave threat to the legitimacy of the one-party state.

…Shen Deyong, a former Supreme Court vice president, was appointed Shanghai’s anti-graft head after the Communist Party secretary of China’s most international city, Chen Liangyu, was dismissed in September. There was no formal announcement of Shen’s move, but state-run media have in recent days started referring to him as secretary of the Shanghai Commission for Discipline Inspection.

Although Hu has a reputation for tackling corruption more aggressively than his predecessor, Jiang Zemin, many analysts believe the problem is so widespread that the party risks collapse if it adopts a zero-tolerance policy. Others say anti-graft campaigns are selective, often tied to ulterior political motives.

Chen, for instance, who was implicated for allowing $400 million in pension fund assets to be used in speculative real estate and toll road investments, was seen as a Jiang supporter who defied Hu’s call to tamp down economic growth in Shanghai.

The latest moves place Hu allies in key positions and send a warning to cadres in smaller cities. But some question the effectiveness of the moves.

“They’re using these appointments to demonstrate their intention to fight corruption, yet they don’t make any new appointments to judicial bodies,” said Joseph Cheng, a professor at the City University of Hong Kong. “That gives you some idea of their priorities.”

Under the Chinese system, the Communist Party is above the law, and there is little indication this situation will change any time soon. Party leaders also have resisted calls for internal checks and balances to address what some see as a flawed structure.

To me, it sounds like basically another move by the CCP to protect and preserve its grip on power. They can’t seriously go after corruption on a massive scale because it would be an act of suicide – corruption is the glue that binds the many disparate and distant segments of the party together. Without it, the CCP loses support from its cadres and, in effect, falls apart. So while I appreciate any efforts to make officials more accountable and honest, you’ll have to pardon me if I feel forced to look skeptically at the latest “reforms” of Mr. Hu.

That’s the name of a youtube video (a photo montage, actually) on the tragedy of China’s coal mining disasters. It’s now banned in China, but you can see it here.

We all have our favorite opening lines from our favorite books. This is mine:

A destiny that leads the English to the Dutch is strange enough; but one that leads from Epsom into Pennsylvania, and thence into the hills that shut in Altamont over the proud coral cry of the cock, and the soft stone smile of an angel, is touched by that dark miracle of chance which makes new magic in a dusty world.

Each of us is all the sums he has not counted: subtract us into nakedness and night again, and you shall see begin in Crete four thousand years ago the love that ended yesterday in Texas.

The seed of our destruction will blossom in the desert, the alexin of our cure grows by a mountain rock, and our lives are haunted by a Georgia slattern, because a London cut-purse went unhung. Each moment is the fruit of forty thousand years. The minute-winning days, like flies, buzz home to death, and every moment is a window
on all time.

Thomas Wolfe, Look Homeward, Angel

For the past few weeks, hardly a day has gone by when I didn’t think of these lines, especially the part about the London cut purse, a rich symbol of the quirkiness of fate. I was talking many months ago with one of the founders of Talk Talk China, who told me how an unexpected phone call transported him from his world in America to his new world in Asia, and how he had no idea how much that phone call would alter literally every aspect of his life. Those little moments that at the time seem not so extraordinary, that then change everything. This was a moment:

I met my Chinese teacher at a local Starbucks for our daily lesson a month ago, and as we were finishing up the phone began to ring. Not wanting to be interrupted, I let it go. A few minutes later, when I was alone on the street a text message appeared from my colleague in Beijing: “Richard, can you get to Beijing immediately? This is urgent.” Why it was urgent and what it was about isn’t really relevant and I can’t go into that for the sake of my company’s privacy. Let’s just say I didn’t think too much of it; it wasn’t the first time I’d been asked to drop everything and travel. I was excited to be invited to spend a few days in Beijing, and within a few hours I had my ticket in hand.

About three weeks ago I wrote to two readers of this blog about what a sad trip it was. This was when I got sick and could scarcely walk. When the weekend came, I couldn’t get out of bed. I wrote to these people about how alone I felt in Beijing, even though I have so many friends there. When you are sick, you don’t want to bother your friends; that’s what family is for. Never did I miss my family as I did that week. Never did I so want to leave Asia and just go back to the safety and warmth of my own home, my own bed, my own cats and family. It was then that I decided it was time for me to leave Asia and go home for good.

For a couple of weeks I was intent on going home and was making the necessary plans. But fate plays tricks. Suffice it to say that as a result of the meetings I flew up for, I was made an offer I couldn’t refuse: to return to Beijing to work on a most important project. Slowly, bit by bit, the plans solidified, approvals came by email and by phone, and suddenly it appeared that I had a whole new life mapped out. I felt deeply conflicted. The recent memories of my weekend in Beijing drove home to me how harsh that city can feel when you’re down and out. The lure of all that I have in America is as strong now as it was a month ago, when I decided I had to go home. But suddenly the deck was rearranged, and I felt there was no choice whatsoever: this was literally a dream opportunity and I couldn’t say no.

Conflicted, but also certain. That’s how I feel. I’ll be moving back in less than four weeks and the whole situation has an almost dream-like quality. When I explained the situation to my family, they understood, and agreed I had to do it. This wasn’t what I expected. I was certain the next stop would be Shanghai and then home. Four weeks ago, i was ready to skip Shanghai altogether and just get back to my loved ones. And now, my reality is something very different. I have to buy a winter coat and gloves. I have to stock up on chapstix and facial moisturizers, and prepare psychologically for dealing once again with Beijing’s ruthless January cold.

For all the jokes we make about Beijing’s weather, it’s actually a very serious issue for me. It’s not by accident that I own a house in Phoenix, Arizona. In 1984, O’Brien explains to Winston how each of us has his one huge fear. For Winston, it was rats. For me, it is the cold. I can deal with it, but I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t a major source of anxiety for me at the moment. It’s nearly all I can think about – the joy of the opportunity tempered by the fact that the last time I lived in Beijing, the cold made me miserable. The one difference this time is that unlike then, I now have friends, even a small community, in Beijing. Back then I had no one – or practically no one – and nothing made the loneliness more intense and nasty than those slicing winds and frozen fingers.

Still, I am optimistic, even thrilled. I’ve always wanted to go back, and I’ll be doing the kind of work I love most and working with people I know and trust. So this is it. I’m moving back to China. It’s finally approved and on paper, and I haven’t felt this excited in many months, despite the doubts and fears and memories. Ever since I left I was dying to get back for reasons I still can’t fully fathom. My last few times in Beijing (aside from my days in bed last month) were among the happiest trips of my life, and each time I felt the city’s mysterious appeal wooing me. And now I am going back. In just a month, once again I will truly be The Peking Duck. I am still in shock and amazement. It hasn’t penetrated 100 percent.

To those of you who I love so much in China’s capital, all I can say is I can’t wait to see you again, this time as a resident and not a visitor. Quirks of fate…unexpected phone calls….those are the things that life is all about. Actually they are the rule more than the exception. Life is full of these unexpected twists and turns; maybe life is simply a series of unexpecteds. (Sorry for all the armchair philosophising; I’m in a very contemplative mood.)

I’ll need help; I need to find a place to live. I have to get reacquainted with a vast metropolis that has changed like a chameleon since I lived there three years ago. I’ll also have to learn simplified characters after spending 12 painstaking months studying traditional Chinese. So I’m nervous as all hell while at the same time feeling totally high. I’ll see you all very soon. I’m taking a much-needed three week vacation back to America, leaving next weekend. When I get back to Taipei I’ll have just two or three days to gather my stuff and catch a flight to Beijing, and to a new life. I’ll be recording every step of my new journey here.

20 years old, tried and executed in total secrecy and without representation for standing up to corrupt tyrants. This was the doing of provincial authorities, and the one glint of optimism in the whole thing is that perhaps the central powers will take notice and demand justice. At least that’s what the young man’s attorneys are hoping. Someone should pay a very heavy price for what amounts to murder.

It’s been one of those weeks, and I’ve had to put The Peking Duck on the back burner. I’ll try to get back into form over the weekend, but for now I have to deal with too many little headachces to even think about blogging. It’s almost time for the “big announcement” I promised a couple of weeks ago, so don’t go away.

The New York Times, much as it did in the summer of 2001, knows what the priority is in Afghanistan: a couple of blown up statues. Never mind the 50,000 families hit by a flash flood this week. Never mind the Taliban killed 3,500 people this year and Afghanistan’s government is calling for more aid. Never mind the latest issue of Foreign Affairs has these nuggets:

It is the poorest country in the world outside of sub-Saharan Africa, and its government remains weak and ineffective. Last year, it raised domestic revenue of about $13 per capita — hardly enough to buy each of its citizens one case of Coca-Cola from the recently opened bottling plant near Kabul, let alone take on all of the important tasks at hand.

Real estate prices and rents are dropping in Kabul, and occupancy rates are down. Fruit and vegetable sellers report a decline in demand of about 20 percent, and construction companies in Kabul report significant falls in employment and wages. A drought in some parts of the country has also led to displacement and a decline in agricultural employment, for which the record opium poppy crop has only partially compensated.

Oh yeah, the opium boom. Did I forget to mention that?

Moreover, the lack of electricity continues to be a major problem. No major new power projects have been completed, and Kabulis today have less electricity than they did five years ago. While foreigners and wealthy Afghans power air conditioners, hot-water heaters, computers, and satellite televisions with private generators, average Kabulis suffered a summer without fans and face a winter without heaters. Kabul got through the past two winters with generators powered by diesel fuel purchased by the United States; this year the United States made no such allocation.

It goes on and on. Meanwhile, what’s the New York Times got to tell us? We can rebuild the Buddhas. We can make them stronger, faster, better… with LASERS!!!! Yeah!!!!

But reassembling pieces that can weigh up to 90 tons would be extremely difficult; Afghanistan does not even have a crane strong enough to hoist them, Mr. Melzl said. The reconstruction project, which the governor of Bamiyan Province has estimated would cost $50 million, would probably also become a political issue in this impoverished Muslim country, where more than 10 percent of the population remains in need of food aid.

Nevertheless, the provincial governor, Habiba Sarabi, favors rebuilding the Buddhas using anastylosis, and said she would propose that the central government make a formal request to Unesco. Professor Maeda said he supports the idea of reassembling one of the Buddhas and leaving the other destroyed as a testament to the crime.

The government also approved the proposal of the Japanese artist Hiro Yamagata to mount a $64 million sound-and-laser show starting in 2009 that would project Buddha images at Bamiyan, powered by hundreds of windmills that would also supply electricity to surrounding residents.

And the villagers fled in panic as MechaSiddhartha vaporized huge swaths of the countryside with his laser beam eyes.

$64 million dollars that could go to… oh, I dunno, mine removal, food aid (the one issue the Times does mention), transitioning opium to alternate crops, building electricity plants, repairing a corrupt and inept police force, blah blah blah. I want lasers! A laser light show? That’s what Turkmenistan does with the rotating laser-enabled Rukhnama book statue.

Mr. Yamagata’s website, Bamiyanlaser.org, says its sponsors are “Beverly Hills Mercedes Benz etc.” In the FAQ, he answers this question, which is apparently “frequently asked”:

Under the project members, there are names of celebrities such as Sharon Stone and Dennis Hopper, what kind of role do they play in the project? Are they going to be taking any part in the PR for the project?

Answer by Yamagata:
They are both my very close friends. In the future, in LA, they will actively play part in promoting this project. Moreover, in different occasions, we are scheduled to promote about this project in great detail and will actively take actions to gain support from many organisations.

*Ahem* You know, there’s a reason Buddhists wipe away sand mandalas and carve butter sculptures. It’s because they believe in the impermanence of things, and that human lives are more important than big rocks. I’m gonna go out on a limb here, and say that Buddha himself would say the statues had a good run, but quit weeping over them (especially since Japanese archaeologists did sophisticated modeling of them thirty years ago so they still exist virtually) and GO FEED SOMEBODY. WTF?