The current mood among the Chinese service sector is a grim one. One would certainly like to shout at them to pull themselves together! A few Covid measures that go against your interests are nothing compared to really bad days some Chinese EV start-ups are experiencing!
Indeed, growth is the only thing on the mind of many people when they talk about green mobility in the People’s Republic. But when it comes to the development of electric vehicles, high profits are by no means a given, as Christiane Kühl describes in detail in today’s China.Table.
Speaking of bad days, China’s regulatory-driven tech companies will soon have to brace themselves for more governmental control. President Xi Jinping himself believes his country is on the right track with its strict controls. Eyes at delivery service Meituan surely must be rolling by now out of sheer frustration. The company is about to face new trouble.
Additionally, we have a preliminary summary of the performance of China’s new ambassador to the US. From tame to belligerent, Qin Gang has already ticked off every category in the diplomatic handbook – after just a few weeks. But the Chinese representative is far from the degree of autonomy that ambassadors of democratic states are sometimes granted by their governments.
I hope you enjoy our latest issue!
Electric cars are booming in China. Not even the semiconductor crisis has put a damper on sales so far. In July, 271,000 electric cars were sold, which is 164 percent more than in the same month last year. Nevertheless, the industry is now facing mass extinction: a handful of start-ups are about to meet their demise, while others are drifting towards an unknown fate. Byton, Faraday Future and ICONIQ all set out with great ambitions, even bringing experienced Western car managers and designers to the fold. But breakthrough remained out of reach.
According to an estimate by the Swiss bank UBS, one in four new cars in China will be powered by batteries as early as 2025. But between start-up euphoria and huge profits in the growing market stand horrendous costs. Last year, Nio founder William Li stated that a start-up would need at least 20 billion yuan (about 2.6 billion euros) in funding before it could get a first model ready for production. Byton burned 8.4 billion yuan, according to Chinese media reports, but only produced around 200 units of its M-Byte smart E-SUV, despite praise by industry insiders. Now, the company is facing its end – at least in its current form.
Cui Dongshu, secretary-general of China Passenger Car Association (CPCA), believes electric companies need to better manage their expenses. “It is important to cut costs and fine-tune the complete manufacturing system,” he said, according to the South China Morning Post. “Companies need to be skilled in adjusting their supply chains to compete in the fast-changing Chinese market.”
At electric pioneer BYD, for example, profits dropped by 29.1 percent year-on-year in the first half of 2021 due to rising material expenses – despite favorable sales figures: In July, the company was leading on the EV market with 50,057 electric cars and plug-in hybrids sold. BYD is able to cope with rising costs, though. Start-ups are hardly able to accomplish this in their infancy. Many of them also focus their development and production on particularly expensive premium models with cutting-edge bells and whistles to attract well-earning urbanites as customers. But the best-selling EV of July for the eleventh month in a row was not a luxury car, but the electric MPV Wuling Hongguang (as reported by China.Table) – an affordable electric car.
The promising start-up Byton, founded by German ex-BMW managers, devolved into a virtual laughingstock. The Chinese expert website Carnewschina.com recently called the company a “Chinese car soap opera”. The start-up went through bankruptcies, wildly rotating management, and never managed to get its M-Byte into mass production despite having a production-ready factory in Nanjing. In recent years, state-owned automaker FAW had become increasingly involved with Byton, injecting fresh capital and a production license. Step by step, however, FAW began to pull the strings in the company.
In the summer of 2020, preparations for serial production of the M-Byte were put on hold; most top managers around German Daniel Kirchert left the ship. FAW’s rescue plan included a redesign of the M-Byte with cheap technology from the state-owned company. The company raised its hopes through a strategic partnership with Taiwanese electronics company Foxconn. But the soap opera continued: In spring, the German subsidiary filed for bankruptcy, and FAW placed one of its own at the helm of the start-up. Much to the displeasure of Foxconn, which then pulled staff from the Nanjing factory, as Bloomberg reported. When and if the M-Byte will see the light of production is uncertain. At least Carnewschina.com managed to identify a model on a test drive on the tropical island of Hainan.
One of Byton’s founders was Carsten Breitfeld, who left for competitor ICONIQ in spring 2019. But there, too, he experienced a similar chronology of failure as with Byton. Especially since the entry of a state-owned group was also supposed to remedy the situation at ICONIQ. The electric start-up had initially presented two models at car shows and received the required production license in July 2019 through the involvement of the state-owned car manufacturer Tianqi Meiya from Tianjin. But nothing happened in a long time. Only this spring did the company break its silence with less than spectacular news and announced two “strategic investments” by Chinese partners, one of them with ambitions in the field of autonomous driving.
Another Byton co-founder, Daniel Kirchert, moved to Evergrande Auto in 2020, unaware of what lay in store for him. The Guangzhou Evergrande real estate group, once the proud namesake of China’s one-time football champion, has maneuvered itself to the brink of ruin with its electric adventure.
Initially, the group’s healthcare division (!) invested in the ailing car start-up Faraday Future, but was unable to avert its demise. Determined to gain a foothold in the growth market, Evergrande then took over the Swedish-Chinese NEVS, which had emerged from the traditional Saab brand. By 2022, Evergrande planned an investment of a whopping $6.4 billion in electric mobility, promising six new cars from its domestic Hengchi brand. But there were rumors about problems with the production setup.
Evergrande financed its electric venture with revenue from its thriving real estate business. But it began to stagnate as Beijing launched a tighter regulation of the sector to curb the risk of a real-estate bubble. Evergrande has been unable to pay for the growing debts of its electric start-ups, and now reports are mounting that the group is looking to get rid of its electric branch. Reuters recently reported talks with smartphone company Xiaomi and state-backed Shenzhen investment companies.
Even beyond the electric segment, new carmakers have a hard time in China: Brands Qoros and Borgward relied on modern factories, foreign managers and sold acceptable cars. But they never really managed to get a foot in the door; Qoros sales stagnated, Borgward collapsed completely. Once founded by automobile manufacturer Chery and an Israeli investor, Qoros is now owned by Chinese company Baoneng, which announced a range of electric models in February. But the Chinese revival of the traditional German brand Borgward is facing bankruptcy.
The long-defunct start-up Faraday Future (FF), whose founder Jia Yueting fled to the US in 2017 to escape debts and fraud allegations, recently showed signs of life. Its IPO on the US tech exchange NASDAQ under the name Faraday Future Intelligent Electric raised about US$1 billion in July, according to media reports. In the middle of it is once again Byton founder Carsten Breitfeld, who now wants to push the development of Faraday Future as CEO.
This newly acquired capital should finally help to realize the company’s first model, a luxury electric SUV called the FF91, Breitfeld told Reuters news agency. The FF91 is expected to leave the production line at a factory in Hanford, California, acquired by Faraday Future a few years back. Capacity will initially range at just 10,000 cars a year. In 30 months, Faraday Future plans to launch the FF81, a slightly cheaper model, built at a contract manufacturer in South Korea. But FF’s lofty plans of their own Gigafactories in the Nevada desert and the planned construction of cars resembling spaceships are definitely over.
Since the beginning of 2021, FF began to show signs of life after being considered dead: a new CEO, also for China, and rumors of negotiations with Geely about a license production. Geely is also one of the investors in the FF IPO. However, production of the FF91 won’t start until 2022 at the earliest – putting the company far behind the competition. Nevertheless, it seems possible for the first start-up to be pronounced dead will narrowly survive in the end.
The term of office of the new Chinese ambassador Qin Gang in Washington began at the end of July with a charm offensive on social media. It began with wide coverage, ranging from former US President Richard Nixon and his groundbreaking visit to China in 1972 to the Tokyo Olympics, including warm congratulations to the US for winning the most medals.
It reached its current apex on the recent occasion of the first birthday of a little panda bear. “Over the past year, with the joint support of Chinese and Americans, you have become an energetic and curious bear cub,” Ambassador Qin said in a video message to the cub, who was born a year ago at the Washington Zoo. The cub, named Xiao Qi Ji, is the offspring of two pandas relocated from the mountains of Sichuan to the US capital on loan by the Chinese government.
All these benevolent, conciliatory comments by the new ambassador on short message service Twitter were no coincidence. After all, Qin Gang is the representative of the People’s Republic, the very nation that wants to replace the US as the leading superpower. It is therefore important for him to display good faith in his new role. He must make clear that a confrontation with the Americans is not desired. The core message: China and the USA – something that also goes hand in hand. Qin promoted cooperation between the two nations in the fight against COVID-19 and the economic consequences it leaves in its wake.
This smooth start to his tenure contradicted the image of a wolf warrior, something that is sometimes attributed to the 55-year-old (as reported by China.Table). Wolf warriors howl their rage and anger into the digital ether, causing international diplomatic circles to scratch their heads. Their aggressive posturing is the result of a directive by President Xi Jinping, who had urged China’s foreign representatives to show greater “fighting spirit.” Qin, on the other hand, initially appeared lamblike.
But it took only a few weeks for the Chinese embassy, under its new chief, to display Qin Gang’s belligerence. The issue: Sars-CoV-2. Even before the US government had published a report by its intelligence services on the origin of the coronavirus, the embassy went on the offensive with a statement.
Not only did it rule out a possible laboratory accident in Wuhan, ground-zero of the pandemic. For the first time, China’s diplomats on US soil suggested that the virus may have originated at US research laboratory Fort Detrick in Maryland or the School of Medicine at the University of North Carolina. There was talk of a “questionable laboratory record” and of “transparency and safety problems” that had arisen at the research facilities.
This represented a substantive and rhetorical aggravation by the embassy, which under the leadership of Qin’s predecessor Cui Tiankai had refrained from such accusations. Last year, Cui had still called the theory tracing the origins to a US military laboratory “absolutely crazy”.
Li Mingjiang of the Rajaratnam School of International Studies (RSIS) in Singapore, however, believes that the new ambassador is not to blame for the sudden shift. “We have to understand the change of personnel as an expression of China’s official line toward the United States. The new ambassador cannot deviate from this line in the slightest, but must act within the policy guidelines from Beijing,” said Li, who has been studying China-U.S. relations for 15 years. “Qin has to act extremely carefully. Any wrongdoing could damage his career. He enjoys leeway for his own actions only on issues that are less sensitive,” the political scientist says.
In plain English, this means that Qin may film as many birthday wishes to bears as he likes – as long as they serve the improvement of relations between both nations. However, spreading accusations via the embassy’s website that the coronavirus may have originated in a lab in Maryland or North Carolina is absolutely in accordance with Beijing.
While ambassadors of democratic nations often act very independently, China’s diplomats are closely tied to the line adopted by their headquarters. The ambassador of the People’s Republic also has to consult with Beijing on matters of detail. Some representatives of democratic states, on the other hand, often spend such a long time in their host country that they outlast several governments back home. Changing governments are also more dependent on the expertise of seasoned local diplomats – which enables them to influence the political focus. They even tend to act on their own here and there.
For example, former Canadian ambassador to China, John McCallum, had arbitrarily undermined his government’s position by calling the arrest of Huawei executive Meng Wanzhou on the account of espionage in Canada “politically motivated” – snubbing his own government. Another example is former Swedish ambassador to Beijing, Anna Lindstedt, who represented Chinese interests without the knowledge of her own government. Lindstedt was forced to answer to a Swedish court last year. But she was acquitted of having acted outside her mission as ambassador. Lindstedt was believed to have acted with the best of intentions to help a Swedish citizen escape Chinese custody.
Chinese diplomats do not claim this amount of freedom for themselves. Probably also out of fear of not only risking their careers but their freedom as well – a justified fear. For open dissent is not tolerated in China, and its authors are isolated as quickly as possible – in order to nip possible discussions about alternative positions in the bud.
Qin Gang knows the rules. “The party’s leadership is holding him in high regard and trusts him,” says political scientist Li. Under these circumstances, it matters little whether the new ambassador fits into the wolf warrior role or not. “Qin, like his predecessor Cui, will try to promote discourse with the US. What tone he adopts will ultimately be decided in Beijing.“
Sweden is really just a supporting actor on the big geopolitical stage. The positions of the Scandinavian state are rarely discussed. But Sweden, like Germany, has trade policy interests. The relationship with the People’s Republic of China has also become increasingly complex – for example, with the arrest of Swedish citizen and bookseller Gui Minhai in Thailand six years ago. “Local politicians like to talk about opportunities and challenges with regard to China relations,” says Björn Jerdén. He is the director of the Swedish National China Centre and an expert on China.
The Swedish government is not talking about containing China or decoupling, but is focusing on opportunities for economic cooperation, Jerdén says. Sweden’s 2019 China strategy defined diverse areas of responsibility for the government, including security, trade, climate, innovation, education, and China as a player in development assistance. There is actually never any talk of putting China in its place. “One thing has changed in Sweden, though: Things that used to be considered only as opportunities are now also seen as challenges,” Jerdén explains. One example is Chinese investment in Sweden.
A balanced sight of the pros and cons requires appropriate expertise, which Jerdén is able to provide with his Centre. It only began operations in January, is funded by the Swedish government, and is intended to provide ministries and authorities with information. “For that, you need experts who know a lot about China and maybe speak Chinese, but who also have expertise in a particular field,” he says.
In his opinion, it is necessary for every EU country to gather as much knowledge about China as possible. Only in this way a common European strategy could be developed. “But there is no single solution for generating knowledge. The situation is different in each country, in terms of government and the interaction between government and universities, think tanks and foundations,” Jerdén says.
Jerdén himself is the product of Swedish university education. After a bachelor’s and master’s degree at the Department of Global Political Studies at Malmö University, he earned his doctorate in Stockholm. During his doctoral studies, he spent time in Taiwan as a guest scientist in 2012 and 2013. He later participated in the China and the World Program at Harvard and Princeton Universities. Prior to his appointment as Director of the Swedish National China Centre, he worked at the renowned Institute of International Affairs in Stockholm.
During this time, Jerdén saw interest in China policy in Sweden grow rapidly. This was due to general global political developments as well as incidents such as the detention of Swedish citizen and publicist Gui Minhai in 2015. “This led to a period of tension in relations. From 2018 on, the Chinese Foreign Ministry increasingly participated in political discourse in Sweden through its embassy in Stockholm,” Jerdén explains.
This moved Sweden’s China policy up the agenda, even outside trade-related issues. “These problems led to an understanding of the need to gain more knowledge about China in the long term in order to manage the relationship in a good way. The China Center is a concrete result of these efforts.” Constantin Eckner
A bamboo cake for their second birthday: The panda children Pit and Paule (picture) – with Chinese names Meng Yuan and Meng Xiang – were born exactly two years ago at Berlin Zoo. Their parents have been living in the capital for 15 years as part of the German-Chinese panda diplomacy. Pit is obviously already full and has crawled away, Paule is still munching.
The current mood among the Chinese service sector is a grim one. One would certainly like to shout at them to pull themselves together! A few Covid measures that go against your interests are nothing compared to really bad days some Chinese EV start-ups are experiencing!
Indeed, growth is the only thing on the mind of many people when they talk about green mobility in the People’s Republic. But when it comes to the development of electric vehicles, high profits are by no means a given, as Christiane Kühl describes in detail in today’s China.Table.
Speaking of bad days, China’s regulatory-driven tech companies will soon have to brace themselves for more governmental control. President Xi Jinping himself believes his country is on the right track with its strict controls. Eyes at delivery service Meituan surely must be rolling by now out of sheer frustration. The company is about to face new trouble.
Additionally, we have a preliminary summary of the performance of China’s new ambassador to the US. From tame to belligerent, Qin Gang has already ticked off every category in the diplomatic handbook – after just a few weeks. But the Chinese representative is far from the degree of autonomy that ambassadors of democratic states are sometimes granted by their governments.
I hope you enjoy our latest issue!
Electric cars are booming in China. Not even the semiconductor crisis has put a damper on sales so far. In July, 271,000 electric cars were sold, which is 164 percent more than in the same month last year. Nevertheless, the industry is now facing mass extinction: a handful of start-ups are about to meet their demise, while others are drifting towards an unknown fate. Byton, Faraday Future and ICONIQ all set out with great ambitions, even bringing experienced Western car managers and designers to the fold. But breakthrough remained out of reach.
According to an estimate by the Swiss bank UBS, one in four new cars in China will be powered by batteries as early as 2025. But between start-up euphoria and huge profits in the growing market stand horrendous costs. Last year, Nio founder William Li stated that a start-up would need at least 20 billion yuan (about 2.6 billion euros) in funding before it could get a first model ready for production. Byton burned 8.4 billion yuan, according to Chinese media reports, but only produced around 200 units of its M-Byte smart E-SUV, despite praise by industry insiders. Now, the company is facing its end – at least in its current form.
Cui Dongshu, secretary-general of China Passenger Car Association (CPCA), believes electric companies need to better manage their expenses. “It is important to cut costs and fine-tune the complete manufacturing system,” he said, according to the South China Morning Post. “Companies need to be skilled in adjusting their supply chains to compete in the fast-changing Chinese market.”
At electric pioneer BYD, for example, profits dropped by 29.1 percent year-on-year in the first half of 2021 due to rising material expenses – despite favorable sales figures: In July, the company was leading on the EV market with 50,057 electric cars and plug-in hybrids sold. BYD is able to cope with rising costs, though. Start-ups are hardly able to accomplish this in their infancy. Many of them also focus their development and production on particularly expensive premium models with cutting-edge bells and whistles to attract well-earning urbanites as customers. But the best-selling EV of July for the eleventh month in a row was not a luxury car, but the electric MPV Wuling Hongguang (as reported by China.Table) – an affordable electric car.
The promising start-up Byton, founded by German ex-BMW managers, devolved into a virtual laughingstock. The Chinese expert website Carnewschina.com recently called the company a “Chinese car soap opera”. The start-up went through bankruptcies, wildly rotating management, and never managed to get its M-Byte into mass production despite having a production-ready factory in Nanjing. In recent years, state-owned automaker FAW had become increasingly involved with Byton, injecting fresh capital and a production license. Step by step, however, FAW began to pull the strings in the company.
In the summer of 2020, preparations for serial production of the M-Byte were put on hold; most top managers around German Daniel Kirchert left the ship. FAW’s rescue plan included a redesign of the M-Byte with cheap technology from the state-owned company. The company raised its hopes through a strategic partnership with Taiwanese electronics company Foxconn. But the soap opera continued: In spring, the German subsidiary filed for bankruptcy, and FAW placed one of its own at the helm of the start-up. Much to the displeasure of Foxconn, which then pulled staff from the Nanjing factory, as Bloomberg reported. When and if the M-Byte will see the light of production is uncertain. At least Carnewschina.com managed to identify a model on a test drive on the tropical island of Hainan.
One of Byton’s founders was Carsten Breitfeld, who left for competitor ICONIQ in spring 2019. But there, too, he experienced a similar chronology of failure as with Byton. Especially since the entry of a state-owned group was also supposed to remedy the situation at ICONIQ. The electric start-up had initially presented two models at car shows and received the required production license in July 2019 through the involvement of the state-owned car manufacturer Tianqi Meiya from Tianjin. But nothing happened in a long time. Only this spring did the company break its silence with less than spectacular news and announced two “strategic investments” by Chinese partners, one of them with ambitions in the field of autonomous driving.
Another Byton co-founder, Daniel Kirchert, moved to Evergrande Auto in 2020, unaware of what lay in store for him. The Guangzhou Evergrande real estate group, once the proud namesake of China’s one-time football champion, has maneuvered itself to the brink of ruin with its electric adventure.
Initially, the group’s healthcare division (!) invested in the ailing car start-up Faraday Future, but was unable to avert its demise. Determined to gain a foothold in the growth market, Evergrande then took over the Swedish-Chinese NEVS, which had emerged from the traditional Saab brand. By 2022, Evergrande planned an investment of a whopping $6.4 billion in electric mobility, promising six new cars from its domestic Hengchi brand. But there were rumors about problems with the production setup.
Evergrande financed its electric venture with revenue from its thriving real estate business. But it began to stagnate as Beijing launched a tighter regulation of the sector to curb the risk of a real-estate bubble. Evergrande has been unable to pay for the growing debts of its electric start-ups, and now reports are mounting that the group is looking to get rid of its electric branch. Reuters recently reported talks with smartphone company Xiaomi and state-backed Shenzhen investment companies.
Even beyond the electric segment, new carmakers have a hard time in China: Brands Qoros and Borgward relied on modern factories, foreign managers and sold acceptable cars. But they never really managed to get a foot in the door; Qoros sales stagnated, Borgward collapsed completely. Once founded by automobile manufacturer Chery and an Israeli investor, Qoros is now owned by Chinese company Baoneng, which announced a range of electric models in February. But the Chinese revival of the traditional German brand Borgward is facing bankruptcy.
The long-defunct start-up Faraday Future (FF), whose founder Jia Yueting fled to the US in 2017 to escape debts and fraud allegations, recently showed signs of life. Its IPO on the US tech exchange NASDAQ under the name Faraday Future Intelligent Electric raised about US$1 billion in July, according to media reports. In the middle of it is once again Byton founder Carsten Breitfeld, who now wants to push the development of Faraday Future as CEO.
This newly acquired capital should finally help to realize the company’s first model, a luxury electric SUV called the FF91, Breitfeld told Reuters news agency. The FF91 is expected to leave the production line at a factory in Hanford, California, acquired by Faraday Future a few years back. Capacity will initially range at just 10,000 cars a year. In 30 months, Faraday Future plans to launch the FF81, a slightly cheaper model, built at a contract manufacturer in South Korea. But FF’s lofty plans of their own Gigafactories in the Nevada desert and the planned construction of cars resembling spaceships are definitely over.
Since the beginning of 2021, FF began to show signs of life after being considered dead: a new CEO, also for China, and rumors of negotiations with Geely about a license production. Geely is also one of the investors in the FF IPO. However, production of the FF91 won’t start until 2022 at the earliest – putting the company far behind the competition. Nevertheless, it seems possible for the first start-up to be pronounced dead will narrowly survive in the end.
The term of office of the new Chinese ambassador Qin Gang in Washington began at the end of July with a charm offensive on social media. It began with wide coverage, ranging from former US President Richard Nixon and his groundbreaking visit to China in 1972 to the Tokyo Olympics, including warm congratulations to the US for winning the most medals.
It reached its current apex on the recent occasion of the first birthday of a little panda bear. “Over the past year, with the joint support of Chinese and Americans, you have become an energetic and curious bear cub,” Ambassador Qin said in a video message to the cub, who was born a year ago at the Washington Zoo. The cub, named Xiao Qi Ji, is the offspring of two pandas relocated from the mountains of Sichuan to the US capital on loan by the Chinese government.
All these benevolent, conciliatory comments by the new ambassador on short message service Twitter were no coincidence. After all, Qin Gang is the representative of the People’s Republic, the very nation that wants to replace the US as the leading superpower. It is therefore important for him to display good faith in his new role. He must make clear that a confrontation with the Americans is not desired. The core message: China and the USA – something that also goes hand in hand. Qin promoted cooperation between the two nations in the fight against COVID-19 and the economic consequences it leaves in its wake.
This smooth start to his tenure contradicted the image of a wolf warrior, something that is sometimes attributed to the 55-year-old (as reported by China.Table). Wolf warriors howl their rage and anger into the digital ether, causing international diplomatic circles to scratch their heads. Their aggressive posturing is the result of a directive by President Xi Jinping, who had urged China’s foreign representatives to show greater “fighting spirit.” Qin, on the other hand, initially appeared lamblike.
But it took only a few weeks for the Chinese embassy, under its new chief, to display Qin Gang’s belligerence. The issue: Sars-CoV-2. Even before the US government had published a report by its intelligence services on the origin of the coronavirus, the embassy went on the offensive with a statement.
Not only did it rule out a possible laboratory accident in Wuhan, ground-zero of the pandemic. For the first time, China’s diplomats on US soil suggested that the virus may have originated at US research laboratory Fort Detrick in Maryland or the School of Medicine at the University of North Carolina. There was talk of a “questionable laboratory record” and of “transparency and safety problems” that had arisen at the research facilities.
This represented a substantive and rhetorical aggravation by the embassy, which under the leadership of Qin’s predecessor Cui Tiankai had refrained from such accusations. Last year, Cui had still called the theory tracing the origins to a US military laboratory “absolutely crazy”.
Li Mingjiang of the Rajaratnam School of International Studies (RSIS) in Singapore, however, believes that the new ambassador is not to blame for the sudden shift. “We have to understand the change of personnel as an expression of China’s official line toward the United States. The new ambassador cannot deviate from this line in the slightest, but must act within the policy guidelines from Beijing,” said Li, who has been studying China-U.S. relations for 15 years. “Qin has to act extremely carefully. Any wrongdoing could damage his career. He enjoys leeway for his own actions only on issues that are less sensitive,” the political scientist says.
In plain English, this means that Qin may film as many birthday wishes to bears as he likes – as long as they serve the improvement of relations between both nations. However, spreading accusations via the embassy’s website that the coronavirus may have originated in a lab in Maryland or North Carolina is absolutely in accordance with Beijing.
While ambassadors of democratic nations often act very independently, China’s diplomats are closely tied to the line adopted by their headquarters. The ambassador of the People’s Republic also has to consult with Beijing on matters of detail. Some representatives of democratic states, on the other hand, often spend such a long time in their host country that they outlast several governments back home. Changing governments are also more dependent on the expertise of seasoned local diplomats – which enables them to influence the political focus. They even tend to act on their own here and there.
For example, former Canadian ambassador to China, John McCallum, had arbitrarily undermined his government’s position by calling the arrest of Huawei executive Meng Wanzhou on the account of espionage in Canada “politically motivated” – snubbing his own government. Another example is former Swedish ambassador to Beijing, Anna Lindstedt, who represented Chinese interests without the knowledge of her own government. Lindstedt was forced to answer to a Swedish court last year. But she was acquitted of having acted outside her mission as ambassador. Lindstedt was believed to have acted with the best of intentions to help a Swedish citizen escape Chinese custody.
Chinese diplomats do not claim this amount of freedom for themselves. Probably also out of fear of not only risking their careers but their freedom as well – a justified fear. For open dissent is not tolerated in China, and its authors are isolated as quickly as possible – in order to nip possible discussions about alternative positions in the bud.
Qin Gang knows the rules. “The party’s leadership is holding him in high regard and trusts him,” says political scientist Li. Under these circumstances, it matters little whether the new ambassador fits into the wolf warrior role or not. “Qin, like his predecessor Cui, will try to promote discourse with the US. What tone he adopts will ultimately be decided in Beijing.“
Sweden is really just a supporting actor on the big geopolitical stage. The positions of the Scandinavian state are rarely discussed. But Sweden, like Germany, has trade policy interests. The relationship with the People’s Republic of China has also become increasingly complex – for example, with the arrest of Swedish citizen and bookseller Gui Minhai in Thailand six years ago. “Local politicians like to talk about opportunities and challenges with regard to China relations,” says Björn Jerdén. He is the director of the Swedish National China Centre and an expert on China.
The Swedish government is not talking about containing China or decoupling, but is focusing on opportunities for economic cooperation, Jerdén says. Sweden’s 2019 China strategy defined diverse areas of responsibility for the government, including security, trade, climate, innovation, education, and China as a player in development assistance. There is actually never any talk of putting China in its place. “One thing has changed in Sweden, though: Things that used to be considered only as opportunities are now also seen as challenges,” Jerdén explains. One example is Chinese investment in Sweden.
A balanced sight of the pros and cons requires appropriate expertise, which Jerdén is able to provide with his Centre. It only began operations in January, is funded by the Swedish government, and is intended to provide ministries and authorities with information. “For that, you need experts who know a lot about China and maybe speak Chinese, but who also have expertise in a particular field,” he says.
In his opinion, it is necessary for every EU country to gather as much knowledge about China as possible. Only in this way a common European strategy could be developed. “But there is no single solution for generating knowledge. The situation is different in each country, in terms of government and the interaction between government and universities, think tanks and foundations,” Jerdén says.
Jerdén himself is the product of Swedish university education. After a bachelor’s and master’s degree at the Department of Global Political Studies at Malmö University, he earned his doctorate in Stockholm. During his doctoral studies, he spent time in Taiwan as a guest scientist in 2012 and 2013. He later participated in the China and the World Program at Harvard and Princeton Universities. Prior to his appointment as Director of the Swedish National China Centre, he worked at the renowned Institute of International Affairs in Stockholm.
During this time, Jerdén saw interest in China policy in Sweden grow rapidly. This was due to general global political developments as well as incidents such as the detention of Swedish citizen and publicist Gui Minhai in 2015. “This led to a period of tension in relations. From 2018 on, the Chinese Foreign Ministry increasingly participated in political discourse in Sweden through its embassy in Stockholm,” Jerdén explains.
This moved Sweden’s China policy up the agenda, even outside trade-related issues. “These problems led to an understanding of the need to gain more knowledge about China in the long term in order to manage the relationship in a good way. The China Center is a concrete result of these efforts.” Constantin Eckner
A bamboo cake for their second birthday: The panda children Pit and Paule (picture) – with Chinese names Meng Yuan and Meng Xiang – were born exactly two years ago at Berlin Zoo. Their parents have been living in the capital for 15 years as part of the German-Chinese panda diplomacy. Pit is obviously already full and has crawled away, Paule is still munching.
