In China, science, innovation, and research are regarded as the key drivers of economic progress. Ruth Schimanowski from the German Academic Exchange Service (DAAD) stresses that Germany should learn from this. In the CEO-Talk with Frank Sieren, she pleads for the development of China competence in the Federal Republic. And academic cooperation between the two countries should also be strengthened. However, China’s “No-COVID” strategy and the often bureaucratic approach of Chinese universities are slowing down academic exchange, says Schimanowski, who has been in the country for 20 years.
Jörn Petring and Gregor Koppenburg looked at Beijing’s strict “No-COVID” strategy. While many governments are relaxing the COVID measures, Beijing is still pursuing the approach of keeping the virus entirely out of the country. If anything, the isolation is being tightened, as the winter flight schedule to the People’s Republic recently showed. Restrictions are to be expected for a long time to come.
So far, only a good 1,000 Aiways U5s are driving on German roads. But according to Christian Domke Seidel, that could soon change. The Chinese brand’s electric SUV has a good price-performance ratio and is already convincing in many respects, he concludes after the test drive. If the problems in the crash test and the shortcomings in digitalization are remedied, Aiways could soon compete with German providers.
Have a great start to the week!
Ruth Schimanowski spent a large part of her childhood in Africa. It wasn’t until she was 15 that she returned to Germany, where she graduated from high school. After that, she immediately left again – to Taipei to learn Mandarin. Then she returned to Berlin, where she studied physics and spent several years abroad: She first came to Beijing as a DAAD scholarship holder. In between, she went to New Orleans to conduct biophysical experiments. But now, she has been living in the Chinese capital for over 20 years.
Not only Schimanowski’s food score but also her professional stages became quite diverse over the years: she has worked at pharmaceutical giant Boehringer Ingelheim and in the Cultural Department of the German Embassy to Beijing. She was head of the liaison office of the Episcopal relief organization Misereor in China and managing director of the German Center Beijing of LBBW. She now heads the three DAAD offices in China. Here, you can view the entire interview in German.
Disclaimer: This interview has been translated into English and is not considered an official translation by any party involved in the interview.
What should Chinese and German academics learn from each other?
Quite a lot. German academics can learn from Chinese academics how to adapt quickly to new situations. We have an incredible dynamic here. What I learned yesterday no longer applies today. People here are much more often forced to make decisions based on a thin, uncertain set of facts, which in turn quickly become outdated. If there’s one thing I’ve learned here, then to decide quickly and instinctively on matters that have never been decided on before. If you can do that, your optimism grows, your confidence in the future. Under the motto: Even no one else has faced this challenge before, we will find a solution. This new self-confidence is shaping this country.
But there is also a lot happening in China right now. How can one remain optimistic?
Despite all the problems, most people consider the level of development to be much better than what they heard from their parents and their grandparents or still experienced themselves. Many of my Chinese friends, for example, now declare: I’m not getting married. That is their prerogative and was unthinkable 20 years ago. And before that, you couldn’t even choose who you married. The Chinese can go abroad, return with new impressions and then decide, I want to live like this or like that.
And what does this mean for academic exchange?
The social environment naturally also rubs off on science. In China, there is more courage, and it’s more important to leave beaten paths, to consider new things, and to try them out.
How important are such scientists for the German world-renowned research institutes, such as Helmholtz, Fraunhofer, or Max Planck, which are, arguably, much further ahead in basic research?
With their openness, curiosity, and eagerness to learn, they increase the diversity of our research landscape and that is important for us. You are better together when you combine different ways of thinking and different mentalities. We still think too competitive: Them or us? Who is faster? Yet, together we are at our best. The fight against climate change is a good example.
What do the Chinese learn from us?
A lot, especially since the academic exchange has been going on for over 40 years. For a very long time, the transfer of know-how had a clear direction: the old lady, the Federal Republic of Germany, awarded scholarships and thus made a major contribution to China’s development. To this day, I feel a great sense of gratitude towards Germany and also the DAAD for this, especially among the Chinese German alumni.
Why do they come to us?
They come to us because our universities and research institutes have a good international reputation. One of our greatest advantages, in addition to practice-oriented higher education, is the close interaction between business and research. Our hidden champions have emerged from this.
Are scholarships still important today?
We still have many scholarship programs, but it is no longer that important in the sense that the DAAD pays for the stay. Unlike in the past, nowadays, we are almost overrun by so-called self-payers, i.e. Chinese who want to go to Germany and pay for their studies themselves. That means they are no longer dependent on our scholarships. This also changes our focus. The German alumni are now much more important than they used to be. We finance conferences and publications and ensure that alumni remain in close contact with each other. In 40 years, a pretty impressive network has emerged.
What about German as a foreign language in China? The DAAD is taking care of that, too. Is that growing out of fashion?
On the contrary. In the most recent German-language learner survey, jointly conducted by the Goethe Institute, the DAAD, and Central Agency for Schools Abroad every five years, the proportion of German language learners in schools has grown by 33 percent over the past five years. This is very encouraging and also means more potential employees for German companies.
That is surprising. What is the reason for the new interest in German?
I wish I could say that it’s because the Germans play such great football or our cars and German companies are so attractive. But the real reason is different: the Chinese government has introduced multilingualism in schools, which means not only English but also smaller languages. These include Japanese, German, French, and Russian. This means that you can now learn a second foreign language at Chinese schools.
Why did they do that?
Perhaps the aim is to reduce dependence on the Anglo-Saxon world. And: In Germany, it is also common for children to learn two or more foreign languages. With this development, the demand for German teachers has risen sharply. We are responding to this with appropriate programs.
However, personal exchange with Germany has come to a virtual standstill due to Beijing’s Corona strategy. When will the country open up again?
The entry ban is indeed a disaster for us, digital exchange cannot be compared with a stay in the country. When a young person goes to a foreign university, they don’t just want to study there, they want to experience a mega-metropolis like Shanghai, for example, and get to know other people and foreign cultures. Unfortunately, I see no reason for optimism at all at the moment. China is sticking ironclad to its zero-infection strategy. For students, I don’t expect the situation to ease until the winter semester of 2022/23 at the earliest. After all, Chinese students can travel to Germany. Exchange continues to work in this direction.
On the same level?
No. Especially short-term stays of less than 90 days have been dropped. And many exchange programs have been discontinued or postponed. In general, however, our impression is that the tensions between China and the USA have brought Europe, and Germany in particular, back into focus for study abroad. We see an increasing demand for study and research stays in Germany. There were around 45,000 Chinese students enrolled in German universities as of WS 2019/20. The number will certainly decline a little because of Corona, but in the long term, it is more likely to rise than fall.
This means that more Chinese are interested in Germany than Germans in China.
We certainly need more China expertise. However, the numbers are not as bad as is often assumed: According to the Chinese Ministry of Education, there were even around 8,000 German students in China in 2018. That is a substantial amount for Germany’s relatively low population of 80 million compared to China. This makes the People’s Republic the second most popular non-European host country for German students, right behind the USA.
Classical German Sinology, however, is becoming less and less popular.
Sinology is an orchids discipline at many universities. No offense to Tang poetry, but we need China expertise in engineering, business studies, or political science. More non-sinologists need to live in China, learn a little Chinese, and continue to research and work in their field.
You studied physics and grew up in Africa, so going to China and staying for 20 years is a bit of a long shot.
I have to admit, it wasn’t planned from the beginning to stay this long. I actually just wanted to learn a little Chinese, and then by chance, I met my husband in Beijing. He is an enthusiastic semi-sinologist, and then we just stayed here. For the children, it was definitely an advantage to grow up bilingual, although we are both German. They first spoke Chinese as children and then German. But what has influenced them is the Chinese optimism. I find that very beautiful. Because it’s also useful outside of China.
This optimism is closely linked to a curiosity about the future. Does science, therefore, have a different meaning in China?
For politics and state leadership, a greater one than in Germany, at least. If you look at China’s 14th Five-Year Plan, it becomes clear: Science is seen as a central driver of economic growth and innovative strength. Money and political power are made available for this. We in Germany need to do better in this area. To be able to cooperate more closely with each other, administrative hurdles that make this difficult must be removed. In China, as well as in Germany.
An example of such hurdles in China?
There have been cases where a university demanded that a German guest lecturer does not get an employment contract until he has been examined in the university’s own hospital. However, he only receives a visa to enter China if he has a work contract. That’s the cat biting its own tail. The crazy thing is that this university doesn’t want to prevent German scientists from coming, but it can’t get around its nonsensical rules. We have a whole series of similar cases.
And there are also ideological hurdles. How does one behave in a knowledge landscape in which the state, on the one hand, pushes for a higher pace of innovation and, on the other hand, controls more, censors more, and runs in ideological lockstep?
First of all, we have to understand that in China, the roles of a university as well as the role of research are different. Research is not an end in itself; it should serve the development of society and, in the end, the interests of the Communist Party. In many cases, this is not a problem, for example, when it comes to developing EV batteries. In some cases, however, this may not coincide with our ideas of scientific freedom, because it is a matter of carrying and implementing patriotism and, above all, the ideology of the Party to the farthest corners.
What if German researchers want to work in China but not in such an ideological environment?
Then they would have to work somewhere else. Ideology does not stop at science. It should not be forgotten that foreigners usually have more freedom at universities than their Chinese colleagues. They are subject to a different standard of control and enjoy a kind of fool’s license that can certainly benefit the general climate in times of shrinking freedom. There is room to maneuver, and we should fill it. But we must not overrate ourselves in the process. We can no longer achieve anything in China from above. Our prerogative of interpretation is becoming weaker and weaker. Perhaps we need to be a little more realistic about that.
But on the other hand, can you also understand when scientists say: With what is happening in Hong Kong, Xinjiang, and the censorship, I don’t want to work in that country?
I can understand that. On the other hand, we can only change things through dialogue and not by turning our backs on China. If we are convinced of values such as the rule of law, freedom of science, or civil society, and I am, we should engage in a confident debate. One thing must be clear, as I have said: We can no longer force China to do anything, but we can provide convincing arguments that motivate China to change of its own accord.
The most important point about the Aiways U5 is not even the price. Although the electric SUV, minus the subsidies from the federal and state governments, enters the garage for less than €30,000, the most important point is the price-performance ratio. For this sum, you can buy a car that is almost on par with models costing almost twice as much. The Aiways U5 thus represents the trend that in the mobility revolution, new concepts from young car nations are competing alongside traditional brands. The car market is thus becoming noticeably more diverse.
Aiways was only founded as a start-up in 2017. The U5 has been available since 2019 as the company’s first model. The start-up has employed several strategies to catapult itself among the real carmakers right off the bat. For example, Aiways acquired half of the long-standing Jiangling Motors Corporation – to get a license to build and be allowed to use the factory. China is selectively tightening licenses to build electric cars in order to curb the proliferation of manufacturers and boost competitiveness.
In the meantime, however, the purchased skills are no longer necessary; Aiways is already standing on its own two feet. The company now has its own factory in the southeastern Chinese city of Shangrao. When fully expanded, it is expected to have a capacity of 300,000 cars a year. With an eye on future model launches, the company has come up with an electric platform that can easily adjust vehicle size, powertrain, and battery capacity.
This technical basis allows a young company like Aiways to promise one new model per year. The U6 is scheduled to arrive as early as 2022. The U5 is already available. At 4.68 meters, the electric SUV is about eight centimeters shorter than a Mercedes EQC (starting from €66,000) and five centimeters longer than a Hyundai Ioniq 5 (starting from €41,900). In Germany, a good 1,000 examples of the U5 are already driving through the streets.
The biggest handicap of the U5 is the crash test. Only three stars were awarded by Euro NCAP in 2019, which means the vehicle is safe, but in Europe, five stars are commonly expected from vehicles that don’t want to sell on price or other unique selling points alone. However, the U5 did get the deduction for electronic shortcomings that the company assures us have since been fixed. For example, the passenger airbag now deploys faster. The upcoming U6 will get the top rating, the manufacturer promises. We will measure it against this announcement.
The battery pack in the Aiways U5 has a capacity of 63 kWh. That is more than in the Hyundai Ioniq 5, whose battery can hold 58 kWh. It’s less than in the Mercedes EQC, which comes in at 80 kWh. In practice, the battery will last for around 300 kilometers in everyday driving. The Aiways has 204 hp, which is pretty much half the power of the Mercedes.
That the Aiways U5 is an electric car that was conceived in China becomes clear with the first test seat. The space on the back seat bench is enormous. Sure – in the People’s Republic, the vehicle owners often sit here while a chauffeur takes care of the rest. The trunk suffers a little from this, but with 432 liters, it can hold much more than the Mercedes.
The onboard computer continues in a very Chinese way. The car is entirely digitized. Windows, sunroof, and trunk – nothing that can’t be controlled via the central touchscreen. Even if there are still inaccuracies in the translation. For example, the roof window opens, but you have to “deactivate” it if you want to close it.
Because the cell phone is the linchpin of daily life and mobility in China, there is also no navigation device. Instead, the mobile phone is to be linked to the system via an app. After all, cell phones can usually navigate better than navigation systems today. This works perfectly with IOS smartphones but is not possible with Android.
In principle, however, the integration of the mobile phone is not a stupid idea – especially with regard to electromobility. The free providers from the app store usually offer solutions free of charge that are in many respects more detailed, more comprehensive, and more up-to-date than the factory apps of many manufacturers. For example, they are often better at finding charging stations along the route.
The Aiways U5 can keep up with the local competition and establish itself as an alternative. For a brand that is only four years old, this is an astonishing success. It shows how dynamic the segment is. The lead of the large, traditional groups is dwindling particularly quickly in the field of electromobility. This opens up opportunities for attackers from China in the European market despite the established competition.Christian Domke Seidel
I consider the authors’ analytical approach to be distant from practice and uncritical of domination. Studies like this will further deepen the crisis of public trust in the professional knowledge of China scholars. While German sinologists are often called upon to be more China-competent in state and society, for me, the question is instead what kind of analysis of the People’s Republic of China has been pursued so far.
My own research on academic freedom and the role of China has revealed that political censorship and the resulting self-censorship is a taboo subject in German academia. This has a negative impact on academic and public discourse on China in Germany. The present study is an example of this.
The remoteness from practice is already evident in the preface. It complains about “under-complex” German media reports and a lack of nuance. Policy decisions are too rarely made understandable from Chinese logic, it says. It goes on to say: Descriptions, localizations, and definitions create “realities” which is especially true for foreign reporting, “since we have had no direct experiences and adventures in other countries ourselves, have had no conversations and discussions there, have acquired no interests of our own, and also no advanced knowledge of history, culture, and specific problems that we could relate positively or negatively to a narrative conveyed by the mass media.”
These formulations, which explain the starting point of the study, are already very surprising. No conversations and no discussions? No own interests and also no further knowledge about history, culture, and specific problems? This preface pretends that there has been no practical Western engagement with China over the last forty years. It gives the impression that the media are solely responsible for the image of China in Germany. The reality, however, is entirely different.
Countless German politicians, business leaders, journalists, cultural figures, academics, and students have visited the People’s Republic of China since the early 1980s or are in constant exchange with local partners. Many tens of thousands of German citizens have also lived and worked in mainland China for a long time. To limit China to political or academic discourse, therefore, does not do justice to the wealth of experience on the German side.
Instead, the study’s editor pretends that the People’s Republic of China remains a closed book despite the intensive Western engagement with China and that the media are now pushing the country into the role of the enemy. That is too short-sighted. For precisely because we are increasingly gaining experience in dealing with the People’s Republic, the media essentially reflect what is learned from this interaction.
In my estimation, many Western journalists with long academic and practical China experience are even among the best China experts. Many have a high degree of empathy and sensitivity, many speak Chinese well, some fluently. They know Chinese domestic perspectives better than many others who have experienced the country or live there.
I trust these journalists to be realistic about the one-party state. They are aware of what happens when information flows dry up within China due to political censorship.
Just at the beginning of the COVID pandemic, we saw massive conflicts erupting within China over freedom of expression. Responsible medical professionals like Dr. Li Wenliang were prevented from warning colleagues about the virus. Chinese critics of Xi Jinping’s crisis management were muzzled or sentenced to long prison terms. Meanwhile, Chinese research on Covid-19 is vetted by government officials according to political criteria before publication. What else, but “critical” to “highly critical”, should reporting look like in this context? But the study provides no such context.
The victims of the Xi regime play no role at all in the overall assessment of the reporting. Instead, China is analyzed predominantly from the perspective of the rulers. And while it is legitimate to engage analytically with “official China”, such engagement should not be at the expense of “unofficial China”.
The study gives the impression that there are hardly any critics of Xi’s crisis management in mainland China and that German media simply ignore this harmony in the country because it does not fit into the authors’ worldview or they do not follow the public debates. It is pretended that there are only a few activists in Hong Kong and that the media do not want to acknowledge that they are a “terrorist gang”, at least that is how the Chinese government reads it.
The study ignores the many dissidents in the country, such as the real estate entrepreneur Ren Zhiqiang, who was sentenced to 18 years in prison for his criticism of the state leadership under the pretext of corruption. The authors also ignore former Party College professor Cai Xia, who was expelled from the Party as a result of her criticism of the regime and no longer receives a pension. Chinese citizen journalist Chen Qiushi is also not mentioned. He disappeared from the scene for 600 days as a result of his reporting in Wuhan. Citizen journalist Zhang Zhan, on the other hand, ended up in jail for her involvement. She is currently on a hunger strike. Her health has been considered critical for months.
Under these circumstances, it is incomprehensible when the authors speak of “an ultimately successful interplay of political and social action”. When representatives of the “unofficial China” are named in the study, their position is often only worth a short half-sentence, and their respective involvement has negative connotations.
Like that of the Chinese writer Fang Fang, who was attacked by nationalists for her Wuhan diary. The study only briefly mentions her for “denouncing the failure of authorities in the early stages” with reference to Fang Fang in German reporting. Meanwhile, Professor Xu Zhangrun, who lost his job at Tsinghua University in the wake of his criticism of Xi’s handling of COVID, is only quoted as questioning media criticism of Xi’s autocratic leadership style.
So the study itself must accept the reproach of lacking nuance that it accuses China coverage of.
The characterization of Xi Jinping makes it particularly clear how uncritically the three authors analyze China. In the study, they speak of a “narrative of the communist dictator”. But of course, there is also something like political reality.
In historical reality, Xi Jinping has created a personality cult, ended collective leadership in the Politburo Standing Committee, and, with Document No. 9, clearly rejected any liberalization and democratization of the country. From a political science perspective, the Xi regime can be described as a personalized dictatorship. It is therefore entirely legitimate for German journalists to address this fact so clearly in their China reporting.
Due to the aforementioned remoteness from practice as well as the lack of a critique of domination, I consider the study to be of little value.
Admittedly: We’re already animal fans at China.Table. But there’s just too beautiful a story about this Shiba Inu to not elevate it to “dessert”. The dog was recently auctioned off for the equivalent of $25,000. That’s because Deng Deng, as he is known, is an internet celebrity in China. In 2014, he was abandoned by his owner at an animal school, according to media reports. Back in 2018, Deng Deng was put up for auction – but the owner, who had been missing until then, came forward and prevented the auction from taking place. However, according to the report, he did not pay off his debt to the animal school, so the Shiba Inu was offered for auction again. After the competent court had made the auction of the dog public, the enthusiasm on Weibo and Wechat now knew no bounds – and Internet star Deng Deng now has a new home with a much offering dog lover.
In China, science, innovation, and research are regarded as the key drivers of economic progress. Ruth Schimanowski from the German Academic Exchange Service (DAAD) stresses that Germany should learn from this. In the CEO-Talk with Frank Sieren, she pleads for the development of China competence in the Federal Republic. And academic cooperation between the two countries should also be strengthened. However, China’s “No-COVID” strategy and the often bureaucratic approach of Chinese universities are slowing down academic exchange, says Schimanowski, who has been in the country for 20 years.
Jörn Petring and Gregor Koppenburg looked at Beijing’s strict “No-COVID” strategy. While many governments are relaxing the COVID measures, Beijing is still pursuing the approach of keeping the virus entirely out of the country. If anything, the isolation is being tightened, as the winter flight schedule to the People’s Republic recently showed. Restrictions are to be expected for a long time to come.
So far, only a good 1,000 Aiways U5s are driving on German roads. But according to Christian Domke Seidel, that could soon change. The Chinese brand’s electric SUV has a good price-performance ratio and is already convincing in many respects, he concludes after the test drive. If the problems in the crash test and the shortcomings in digitalization are remedied, Aiways could soon compete with German providers.
Have a great start to the week!
Ruth Schimanowski spent a large part of her childhood in Africa. It wasn’t until she was 15 that she returned to Germany, where she graduated from high school. After that, she immediately left again – to Taipei to learn Mandarin. Then she returned to Berlin, where she studied physics and spent several years abroad: She first came to Beijing as a DAAD scholarship holder. In between, she went to New Orleans to conduct biophysical experiments. But now, she has been living in the Chinese capital for over 20 years.
Not only Schimanowski’s food score but also her professional stages became quite diverse over the years: she has worked at pharmaceutical giant Boehringer Ingelheim and in the Cultural Department of the German Embassy to Beijing. She was head of the liaison office of the Episcopal relief organization Misereor in China and managing director of the German Center Beijing of LBBW. She now heads the three DAAD offices in China. Here, you can view the entire interview in German.
Disclaimer: This interview has been translated into English and is not considered an official translation by any party involved in the interview.
What should Chinese and German academics learn from each other?
Quite a lot. German academics can learn from Chinese academics how to adapt quickly to new situations. We have an incredible dynamic here. What I learned yesterday no longer applies today. People here are much more often forced to make decisions based on a thin, uncertain set of facts, which in turn quickly become outdated. If there’s one thing I’ve learned here, then to decide quickly and instinctively on matters that have never been decided on before. If you can do that, your optimism grows, your confidence in the future. Under the motto: Even no one else has faced this challenge before, we will find a solution. This new self-confidence is shaping this country.
But there is also a lot happening in China right now. How can one remain optimistic?
Despite all the problems, most people consider the level of development to be much better than what they heard from their parents and their grandparents or still experienced themselves. Many of my Chinese friends, for example, now declare: I’m not getting married. That is their prerogative and was unthinkable 20 years ago. And before that, you couldn’t even choose who you married. The Chinese can go abroad, return with new impressions and then decide, I want to live like this or like that.
And what does this mean for academic exchange?
The social environment naturally also rubs off on science. In China, there is more courage, and it’s more important to leave beaten paths, to consider new things, and to try them out.
How important are such scientists for the German world-renowned research institutes, such as Helmholtz, Fraunhofer, or Max Planck, which are, arguably, much further ahead in basic research?
With their openness, curiosity, and eagerness to learn, they increase the diversity of our research landscape and that is important for us. You are better together when you combine different ways of thinking and different mentalities. We still think too competitive: Them or us? Who is faster? Yet, together we are at our best. The fight against climate change is a good example.
What do the Chinese learn from us?
A lot, especially since the academic exchange has been going on for over 40 years. For a very long time, the transfer of know-how had a clear direction: the old lady, the Federal Republic of Germany, awarded scholarships and thus made a major contribution to China’s development. To this day, I feel a great sense of gratitude towards Germany and also the DAAD for this, especially among the Chinese German alumni.
Why do they come to us?
They come to us because our universities and research institutes have a good international reputation. One of our greatest advantages, in addition to practice-oriented higher education, is the close interaction between business and research. Our hidden champions have emerged from this.
Are scholarships still important today?
We still have many scholarship programs, but it is no longer that important in the sense that the DAAD pays for the stay. Unlike in the past, nowadays, we are almost overrun by so-called self-payers, i.e. Chinese who want to go to Germany and pay for their studies themselves. That means they are no longer dependent on our scholarships. This also changes our focus. The German alumni are now much more important than they used to be. We finance conferences and publications and ensure that alumni remain in close contact with each other. In 40 years, a pretty impressive network has emerged.
What about German as a foreign language in China? The DAAD is taking care of that, too. Is that growing out of fashion?
On the contrary. In the most recent German-language learner survey, jointly conducted by the Goethe Institute, the DAAD, and Central Agency for Schools Abroad every five years, the proportion of German language learners in schools has grown by 33 percent over the past five years. This is very encouraging and also means more potential employees for German companies.
That is surprising. What is the reason for the new interest in German?
I wish I could say that it’s because the Germans play such great football or our cars and German companies are so attractive. But the real reason is different: the Chinese government has introduced multilingualism in schools, which means not only English but also smaller languages. These include Japanese, German, French, and Russian. This means that you can now learn a second foreign language at Chinese schools.
Why did they do that?
Perhaps the aim is to reduce dependence on the Anglo-Saxon world. And: In Germany, it is also common for children to learn two or more foreign languages. With this development, the demand for German teachers has risen sharply. We are responding to this with appropriate programs.
However, personal exchange with Germany has come to a virtual standstill due to Beijing’s Corona strategy. When will the country open up again?
The entry ban is indeed a disaster for us, digital exchange cannot be compared with a stay in the country. When a young person goes to a foreign university, they don’t just want to study there, they want to experience a mega-metropolis like Shanghai, for example, and get to know other people and foreign cultures. Unfortunately, I see no reason for optimism at all at the moment. China is sticking ironclad to its zero-infection strategy. For students, I don’t expect the situation to ease until the winter semester of 2022/23 at the earliest. After all, Chinese students can travel to Germany. Exchange continues to work in this direction.
On the same level?
No. Especially short-term stays of less than 90 days have been dropped. And many exchange programs have been discontinued or postponed. In general, however, our impression is that the tensions between China and the USA have brought Europe, and Germany in particular, back into focus for study abroad. We see an increasing demand for study and research stays in Germany. There were around 45,000 Chinese students enrolled in German universities as of WS 2019/20. The number will certainly decline a little because of Corona, but in the long term, it is more likely to rise than fall.
This means that more Chinese are interested in Germany than Germans in China.
We certainly need more China expertise. However, the numbers are not as bad as is often assumed: According to the Chinese Ministry of Education, there were even around 8,000 German students in China in 2018. That is a substantial amount for Germany’s relatively low population of 80 million compared to China. This makes the People’s Republic the second most popular non-European host country for German students, right behind the USA.
Classical German Sinology, however, is becoming less and less popular.
Sinology is an orchids discipline at many universities. No offense to Tang poetry, but we need China expertise in engineering, business studies, or political science. More non-sinologists need to live in China, learn a little Chinese, and continue to research and work in their field.
You studied physics and grew up in Africa, so going to China and staying for 20 years is a bit of a long shot.
I have to admit, it wasn’t planned from the beginning to stay this long. I actually just wanted to learn a little Chinese, and then by chance, I met my husband in Beijing. He is an enthusiastic semi-sinologist, and then we just stayed here. For the children, it was definitely an advantage to grow up bilingual, although we are both German. They first spoke Chinese as children and then German. But what has influenced them is the Chinese optimism. I find that very beautiful. Because it’s also useful outside of China.
This optimism is closely linked to a curiosity about the future. Does science, therefore, have a different meaning in China?
For politics and state leadership, a greater one than in Germany, at least. If you look at China’s 14th Five-Year Plan, it becomes clear: Science is seen as a central driver of economic growth and innovative strength. Money and political power are made available for this. We in Germany need to do better in this area. To be able to cooperate more closely with each other, administrative hurdles that make this difficult must be removed. In China, as well as in Germany.
An example of such hurdles in China?
There have been cases where a university demanded that a German guest lecturer does not get an employment contract until he has been examined in the university’s own hospital. However, he only receives a visa to enter China if he has a work contract. That’s the cat biting its own tail. The crazy thing is that this university doesn’t want to prevent German scientists from coming, but it can’t get around its nonsensical rules. We have a whole series of similar cases.
And there are also ideological hurdles. How does one behave in a knowledge landscape in which the state, on the one hand, pushes for a higher pace of innovation and, on the other hand, controls more, censors more, and runs in ideological lockstep?
First of all, we have to understand that in China, the roles of a university as well as the role of research are different. Research is not an end in itself; it should serve the development of society and, in the end, the interests of the Communist Party. In many cases, this is not a problem, for example, when it comes to developing EV batteries. In some cases, however, this may not coincide with our ideas of scientific freedom, because it is a matter of carrying and implementing patriotism and, above all, the ideology of the Party to the farthest corners.
What if German researchers want to work in China but not in such an ideological environment?
Then they would have to work somewhere else. Ideology does not stop at science. It should not be forgotten that foreigners usually have more freedom at universities than their Chinese colleagues. They are subject to a different standard of control and enjoy a kind of fool’s license that can certainly benefit the general climate in times of shrinking freedom. There is room to maneuver, and we should fill it. But we must not overrate ourselves in the process. We can no longer achieve anything in China from above. Our prerogative of interpretation is becoming weaker and weaker. Perhaps we need to be a little more realistic about that.
But on the other hand, can you also understand when scientists say: With what is happening in Hong Kong, Xinjiang, and the censorship, I don’t want to work in that country?
I can understand that. On the other hand, we can only change things through dialogue and not by turning our backs on China. If we are convinced of values such as the rule of law, freedom of science, or civil society, and I am, we should engage in a confident debate. One thing must be clear, as I have said: We can no longer force China to do anything, but we can provide convincing arguments that motivate China to change of its own accord.
The most important point about the Aiways U5 is not even the price. Although the electric SUV, minus the subsidies from the federal and state governments, enters the garage for less than €30,000, the most important point is the price-performance ratio. For this sum, you can buy a car that is almost on par with models costing almost twice as much. The Aiways U5 thus represents the trend that in the mobility revolution, new concepts from young car nations are competing alongside traditional brands. The car market is thus becoming noticeably more diverse.
Aiways was only founded as a start-up in 2017. The U5 has been available since 2019 as the company’s first model. The start-up has employed several strategies to catapult itself among the real carmakers right off the bat. For example, Aiways acquired half of the long-standing Jiangling Motors Corporation – to get a license to build and be allowed to use the factory. China is selectively tightening licenses to build electric cars in order to curb the proliferation of manufacturers and boost competitiveness.
In the meantime, however, the purchased skills are no longer necessary; Aiways is already standing on its own two feet. The company now has its own factory in the southeastern Chinese city of Shangrao. When fully expanded, it is expected to have a capacity of 300,000 cars a year. With an eye on future model launches, the company has come up with an electric platform that can easily adjust vehicle size, powertrain, and battery capacity.
This technical basis allows a young company like Aiways to promise one new model per year. The U6 is scheduled to arrive as early as 2022. The U5 is already available. At 4.68 meters, the electric SUV is about eight centimeters shorter than a Mercedes EQC (starting from €66,000) and five centimeters longer than a Hyundai Ioniq 5 (starting from €41,900). In Germany, a good 1,000 examples of the U5 are already driving through the streets.
The biggest handicap of the U5 is the crash test. Only three stars were awarded by Euro NCAP in 2019, which means the vehicle is safe, but in Europe, five stars are commonly expected from vehicles that don’t want to sell on price or other unique selling points alone. However, the U5 did get the deduction for electronic shortcomings that the company assures us have since been fixed. For example, the passenger airbag now deploys faster. The upcoming U6 will get the top rating, the manufacturer promises. We will measure it against this announcement.
The battery pack in the Aiways U5 has a capacity of 63 kWh. That is more than in the Hyundai Ioniq 5, whose battery can hold 58 kWh. It’s less than in the Mercedes EQC, which comes in at 80 kWh. In practice, the battery will last for around 300 kilometers in everyday driving. The Aiways has 204 hp, which is pretty much half the power of the Mercedes.
That the Aiways U5 is an electric car that was conceived in China becomes clear with the first test seat. The space on the back seat bench is enormous. Sure – in the People’s Republic, the vehicle owners often sit here while a chauffeur takes care of the rest. The trunk suffers a little from this, but with 432 liters, it can hold much more than the Mercedes.
The onboard computer continues in a very Chinese way. The car is entirely digitized. Windows, sunroof, and trunk – nothing that can’t be controlled via the central touchscreen. Even if there are still inaccuracies in the translation. For example, the roof window opens, but you have to “deactivate” it if you want to close it.
Because the cell phone is the linchpin of daily life and mobility in China, there is also no navigation device. Instead, the mobile phone is to be linked to the system via an app. After all, cell phones can usually navigate better than navigation systems today. This works perfectly with IOS smartphones but is not possible with Android.
In principle, however, the integration of the mobile phone is not a stupid idea – especially with regard to electromobility. The free providers from the app store usually offer solutions free of charge that are in many respects more detailed, more comprehensive, and more up-to-date than the factory apps of many manufacturers. For example, they are often better at finding charging stations along the route.
The Aiways U5 can keep up with the local competition and establish itself as an alternative. For a brand that is only four years old, this is an astonishing success. It shows how dynamic the segment is. The lead of the large, traditional groups is dwindling particularly quickly in the field of electromobility. This opens up opportunities for attackers from China in the European market despite the established competition.Christian Domke Seidel
I consider the authors’ analytical approach to be distant from practice and uncritical of domination. Studies like this will further deepen the crisis of public trust in the professional knowledge of China scholars. While German sinologists are often called upon to be more China-competent in state and society, for me, the question is instead what kind of analysis of the People’s Republic of China has been pursued so far.
My own research on academic freedom and the role of China has revealed that political censorship and the resulting self-censorship is a taboo subject in German academia. This has a negative impact on academic and public discourse on China in Germany. The present study is an example of this.
The remoteness from practice is already evident in the preface. It complains about “under-complex” German media reports and a lack of nuance. Policy decisions are too rarely made understandable from Chinese logic, it says. It goes on to say: Descriptions, localizations, and definitions create “realities” which is especially true for foreign reporting, “since we have had no direct experiences and adventures in other countries ourselves, have had no conversations and discussions there, have acquired no interests of our own, and also no advanced knowledge of history, culture, and specific problems that we could relate positively or negatively to a narrative conveyed by the mass media.”
These formulations, which explain the starting point of the study, are already very surprising. No conversations and no discussions? No own interests and also no further knowledge about history, culture, and specific problems? This preface pretends that there has been no practical Western engagement with China over the last forty years. It gives the impression that the media are solely responsible for the image of China in Germany. The reality, however, is entirely different.
Countless German politicians, business leaders, journalists, cultural figures, academics, and students have visited the People’s Republic of China since the early 1980s or are in constant exchange with local partners. Many tens of thousands of German citizens have also lived and worked in mainland China for a long time. To limit China to political or academic discourse, therefore, does not do justice to the wealth of experience on the German side.
Instead, the study’s editor pretends that the People’s Republic of China remains a closed book despite the intensive Western engagement with China and that the media are now pushing the country into the role of the enemy. That is too short-sighted. For precisely because we are increasingly gaining experience in dealing with the People’s Republic, the media essentially reflect what is learned from this interaction.
In my estimation, many Western journalists with long academic and practical China experience are even among the best China experts. Many have a high degree of empathy and sensitivity, many speak Chinese well, some fluently. They know Chinese domestic perspectives better than many others who have experienced the country or live there.
I trust these journalists to be realistic about the one-party state. They are aware of what happens when information flows dry up within China due to political censorship.
Just at the beginning of the COVID pandemic, we saw massive conflicts erupting within China over freedom of expression. Responsible medical professionals like Dr. Li Wenliang were prevented from warning colleagues about the virus. Chinese critics of Xi Jinping’s crisis management were muzzled or sentenced to long prison terms. Meanwhile, Chinese research on Covid-19 is vetted by government officials according to political criteria before publication. What else, but “critical” to “highly critical”, should reporting look like in this context? But the study provides no such context.
The victims of the Xi regime play no role at all in the overall assessment of the reporting. Instead, China is analyzed predominantly from the perspective of the rulers. And while it is legitimate to engage analytically with “official China”, such engagement should not be at the expense of “unofficial China”.
The study gives the impression that there are hardly any critics of Xi’s crisis management in mainland China and that German media simply ignore this harmony in the country because it does not fit into the authors’ worldview or they do not follow the public debates. It is pretended that there are only a few activists in Hong Kong and that the media do not want to acknowledge that they are a “terrorist gang”, at least that is how the Chinese government reads it.
The study ignores the many dissidents in the country, such as the real estate entrepreneur Ren Zhiqiang, who was sentenced to 18 years in prison for his criticism of the state leadership under the pretext of corruption. The authors also ignore former Party College professor Cai Xia, who was expelled from the Party as a result of her criticism of the regime and no longer receives a pension. Chinese citizen journalist Chen Qiushi is also not mentioned. He disappeared from the scene for 600 days as a result of his reporting in Wuhan. Citizen journalist Zhang Zhan, on the other hand, ended up in jail for her involvement. She is currently on a hunger strike. Her health has been considered critical for months.
Under these circumstances, it is incomprehensible when the authors speak of “an ultimately successful interplay of political and social action”. When representatives of the “unofficial China” are named in the study, their position is often only worth a short half-sentence, and their respective involvement has negative connotations.
Like that of the Chinese writer Fang Fang, who was attacked by nationalists for her Wuhan diary. The study only briefly mentions her for “denouncing the failure of authorities in the early stages” with reference to Fang Fang in German reporting. Meanwhile, Professor Xu Zhangrun, who lost his job at Tsinghua University in the wake of his criticism of Xi’s handling of COVID, is only quoted as questioning media criticism of Xi’s autocratic leadership style.
So the study itself must accept the reproach of lacking nuance that it accuses China coverage of.
The characterization of Xi Jinping makes it particularly clear how uncritically the three authors analyze China. In the study, they speak of a “narrative of the communist dictator”. But of course, there is also something like political reality.
In historical reality, Xi Jinping has created a personality cult, ended collective leadership in the Politburo Standing Committee, and, with Document No. 9, clearly rejected any liberalization and democratization of the country. From a political science perspective, the Xi regime can be described as a personalized dictatorship. It is therefore entirely legitimate for German journalists to address this fact so clearly in their China reporting.
Due to the aforementioned remoteness from practice as well as the lack of a critique of domination, I consider the study to be of little value.
Admittedly: We’re already animal fans at China.Table. But there’s just too beautiful a story about this Shiba Inu to not elevate it to “dessert”. The dog was recently auctioned off for the equivalent of $25,000. That’s because Deng Deng, as he is known, is an internet celebrity in China. In 2014, he was abandoned by his owner at an animal school, according to media reports. Back in 2018, Deng Deng was put up for auction – but the owner, who had been missing until then, came forward and prevented the auction from taking place. However, according to the report, he did not pay off his debt to the animal school, so the Shiba Inu was offered for auction again. After the competent court had made the auction of the dog public, the enthusiasm on Weibo and Wechat now knew no bounds – and Internet star Deng Deng now has a new home with a much offering dog lover.
