Human rights should be given “greater weight in German economic policy,” Robert Habeck declared in a recent interview. To prove how serious he is, the German Minister of Economics wants to make an example of VW. The German automaker is to be denied investment guarantees for its plant in Urumqi, citing human rights violations in Xinjiang. “We cannot guarantee projects in the Xinjiang region in view of forced labor and mistreatment of Uyghurs,” Habeck said. This move would be a first and would also affect other German companies such as BASF, writes Finn Mayer-Kuckuk. The Chinese, however, will not leave the push uncommented: The involvement of foreign companies in Xinjiang holds great symbolic value for Beijing.
In an attempt to meet their climate goals, European companies in China are under pressure. According to a new study by the European Chamber of Commerce in China, 46 percent of companies surveyed reported that they had already begun decarbonizing their local operations in the People’s Republic. But the environment for swift enforcement remains difficult and intransparent, writes Christiane Kuehl. The Chinese energy mix still includes not enough renewables. In addition, there is a lack of open markets, common standards, and awareness of the climate crisis at the provincial level.
Her diary from a sealed-off city made Fang Fang world-famous – and shunned in her home country. Yet even before the “Wuhan Diary,” the writer had described true-to-life stories from everyday life in China. Her stories always focus on compassion and empathy for people who otherwise have no voice, Fang Fang’s translator Michael Kahn-Ackermann tells Ning Wang in today’s interview. Fang Fang’s latest novel “Wuetendes Feuer” is another mirror of Chinese society. Set in the 1990s, it depicts the epochal changes that continue to shape the country and its leading Party to this day.
“Wuetenes Feuer” is set in the 1990s. What has changed in China since that time?
First, you have to ask, where has what changed? This novel is set in a village, presumably in the Hubei province, and some of the changes that have taken place in the countryside are different from those that have happened in the cities over the last 20 to 30 years. If you stick strictly to this village, then you have to say that probably not all that much has changed in many places. As the case of the woman sold and chained at home has shown, which, after all, has received an incredible response on Chinese social media. (In the province, the case of a woman who was kidnapped at a young age, sold and then lived chained for more than 18 years became public in February – editor’s note).
Was the response so emotional because the case brought up memories from their own families?
The case has shown that the abduction of young girls and women and their sale to families in less developed rural areas is still flourishing. And that the authorities do not take an offensive approach to it, but a very defensive one. In other words, they try to cover up such information as much as possible and not let the whole thing become a topic of public debate. But it has been known for quite some time that there is trafficking in women within China and that you have to watch out for young girls so that they don’t get kidnapped in the countryside and to some extent in the cities. In light of such incidents, it must be said that it may well be that not so much has changed in the village where the story of this novel is set. As far as the social structure is concerned, as far as the interaction between the male and female members of the family is concerned, and as far as the living conditions are concerned.
But the people in China lead a very good life compared to many other countries.
On a global or national scale, the change is of course immense. But at the same time, the disparity in living conditions between the large cities, especially in the east and south of the country, and the rural regions has become even more pronounced; they are now even more different from they were back in the 1990s. Living habits are also further apart than they were back then.
Is “Wuetendes Feuer” a criticism of these conditions?
I don’t see the novel so much as criticism, but rather as a portrayal of the conditions in a part of the country that is very important for China, namely the rural regions, in an epochal time of change in which more or less everything is in disarray. In other words, the social structures, the economic conditions, the moral concepts, the wishes and needs of the people, and the aspirations of the young generation.
So the things Fang Fang condemns still exist today?
I believe that this process that Fang Fang is describing is still going on today. Even though much has changed, this upheaval of circumstances, the difficulty of finding one’s way in an extremely contradictory time, is the real theme of this novel. The example of a young woman who is caught up in this tension, who wants something that her parents can’t even imagine and fails because of the firmly established family, moral and social structures.
The book is less a criticism – that is always implicitly included – than a fairly accurate description of a social revolution that we do not recognize here as a revolution because it is not accompanied by a political revolution. The political system has remained the same. But all social relations have changed in a revolutionary way over a relatively short period.
Do Fang Fang’s books “Wuhan Diary”, “Soft Burial” and “Wuetendes Feuer” have anything in common?
There are common elements in the author’s fundamental positions, who takes sides for all those who are not in the spotlight, who are victims of these changes. Whose fate is kept secret for political reasons. But also because of the reluctance of the generations of parents and grandparents to talk about this time. In addition to the massive political taboos that manifest themselves in school education, in the media, and publications everywhere, there is of course the same phenomenon that we Germans, especially my generation, know well: A generation of parents who do not want to talk about their experiences.
In this respect, there is virtually no reappraisal – apart from very few exceptional cases. Nor does it take place publicly; it is prevented as far as possible. And Fang Fang’s literature, as well as the literature of some other authors, breaks into this void. But there are not many who take on these forgotten fates of the last 70 years.
Is Fang Fang still allowed to publish in China after “Wuhan Diary”?
There has been no officially declared ban. It is not written down anywhere, but factually not a single publisher dares to publish a single line by her, no newspaper dares to do an interview with her. So, effectively, she is banned from writing.
Do you know how she is doing?
I recently have been in contact with her, which is currently only possible via WeChat. Although she does not say it openly, she is certainly not very well. She is still treated as a traitor to the homeland. Even if that is not officially said.
So rehabilitation is not to be expected?
As long as the whole Zero Covid campaign continues and needs to continue, she will not be rehabilitated in any way.
The young protagonist of “Wuetendes Feuer” ends up setting her abusive husband on fire. Is this also a criticism of a society that has fallen apart at the seams?
What is striking about the novel is that the Party does not appear in it at all, and government institutions hardly appear at all. I think this is very realistic. For this rural everyday life and the private life of the characters, they play a rather negligible role. It becomes clear in this novel that the traditional family structures, the clan structures, are more powerful in everyday life than the official governmental structures, which always hold up the equality of men and women as a political goal.
I have the impression, although I have never discussed it with her, that she regards such social processes as something irreversible, i.e., as something that takes hold of people like a natural phenomenon and puts them in all kinds of possible and impossible situations. Fang Fang tries hard to avoid explicit blame. She depicts these changes while breaking the rule against talking about their victims.
What does Fang Fang focus on in her work?
Compassion for these people is an elementary feeling for her that guides her work as a writer. She is less concerned with pointing the finger at something or someone. She wants to make people aware that there are large parts of the population who suffer, who are somewhat defenselessly exposed to these processes and who, partly due to political pressure and partly due to the desire to forget, are no longer noticed at all today. The fact that she is attacked for sympathizing is something she suffers from as well. This hits her very hard. She experiences that in such processes, no one or hardly any people sympathize with her. This is an experience that many people have had over the last 50 or 70 years: The moment they are criticized or attacked by government authorities, their peers turn away from them and there is no more sympathy.
Michael Kahn-Ackermann is a sinologist and translator. He has been working as China Special Representative for the Mercator Foundation since 2012. Before that, Kahn-Ackermann was the longstanding Director of the Goethe-Institut in Beijing and founding Director of the first Goethe-Institut in China. He lives in Nanjing.
German Minister of Economics Robert Habeck intends to make values the guiding principle of trade policy – and is making an example of VW. “A company that also operates in the Uyghur province wanted to extend investment guarantees. We are not agreeing to that,” Habeck told the German newspaper Welt am Sonntag. Human rights are being given “greater weight in German economic policy.” It was the first time that such guarantees did not materialize because a company was associated with human rights violations. According to the German newsmagazine Der Spiegel, the company in question is Volkswagen.
The interview published by “Welt am Sonntag” was not specifically focused on China. The main topic of the conversation was arms deliveries to Ukraine and Habeck’s role in the government. Only later on did Welt am Sonntag ask about trade relations with China. Habeck announced his intention to “reduce dependencies”. “China is a great trading partner, but we are in systemic competition – an autocratic regime there, liberal democracies here.” Germany would have to protect its security interests.
Investment guarantees will continue to be decided on a case-by-case basis. However, he said there was continuity with his predecessor Peter Altmaier (CDU) in the current decision. “The guideline that my ministry already developed at the end of the last legislative period is: We cannot guarantee projects in the Xinjiang region in the face of forced labor and mistreatment of the Uyghurs.”
These investment guarantees are a form of indirect subsidy for foreign business. German companies that want to invest internationally but fear political risks can request reinsurance from the government. This is intended to make it easier for companies to make investment decisions. If the deal goes wrong because the foreign government does not play along as hoped, the federal government pays the loss. However, the Ministry of Commerce is not required to take all the risks from the private sector. It is at the government’s discretion to provide the guarantees. This is why VW appears decidedly calm about the impending rejection.
The VW application was not about securing a new commitment in Xinjiang, but about existing guarantees for four investments in other parts of China. But Volkswagen also operates a plant in Urumqi. Admittedly, it is a comparatively small plant. But for the Chinese leadership, the commitment in Xinjiang has considerable symbolic value. VW invested in the provincial capital in 2012 in response to pressure from Beijing. The activities of international companies give legitimacy to the Xinjiang policy. After all, Beijing claims to boost the local economy for the benefit of its citizens. The contracts were signed in the presence of former German Chancellor Angela Merkel.
The oppression of the Uyghurs was already a dominant theme in 2012. However, the extent of human rights violations at that time cannot be compared with the developments since 2018. Back then, residents were still allowed to move about freely; today, millions of Uyghurs have been locked up in camps, and total surveillance reigns. At the same time, Volkswagen’s business success depends on the goodwill of the Chinese government.
And if Habeck’s actions set the course for the German government’s future guiding signals to the economy, then a second Dax company could also be influenced by the decisions made by his department. BASF has also invested in Xinjiang. Unlike the automaker, for which Urumqi is not an ideal site, the chemical company benefits from the region’s gas deposits.
At the beginning of 2023, a supply chain act will take effect in Germany. It mandates that companies exercise diligence in complying with international labor standards – including those of suppliers. A company like BASF is closely intertwined with the local economy in China. The German Federal Office of Economics and Export Control (BAFA) monitors compliance with the due diligence requirements. It reports directly to Robert Habeck. How closely the officials will look depends on his instructions. Thus, it gives him additional leverage for his new value-focused approach that goes far beyond refusing investment guarantees (China.Table reported).
BAFA receives its own staff at a new location in Borna to implement the law. Not only can the officials request formal reports, they can also inspect business premises and demand records. Above all, they can issue specific requirements for improvements and enforce them with penalties.
China’s ship to the West has sailed. I wonder how often have I heard this phrase from German politicians or business leaders in the past 45 years I was involved with the People’s Republic? Society has allowed itself to be taken over by the charms of the capitalist dream, be it in fashion, pop music, lifestyle, fast-food chains, soft drinks or cars. Actually, it is quite the opposite. The Party has subjugated the souls of Western entrepreneurs and made them addicted to the market. It is using China’s purchasing power to subvert American soft power Hollywood-style and “influence its content”.
In his new book, “Red Carpet – Hollywood and China,” (Penguin 2022) he describes for the first time how Beijing has managed to score heavily in the “global battle for cultural dominance”. Wall Street Journal (WSJ) Hollywood correspondent and book author Erich Schwartzel concludes that China managed to turn its economic leverages into political ones over the past 20 years. With astounding success.
I witnessed part of this saga myself. “The future belongs to us. We are 1.3 billion people. Starting in 2018, we will be the biggest in the movie business,” boasted Wang Jianlin, (王健林) head of real estate conglomerate Wanda and a multi-billionaire in September 2013 during the groundbreaking ceremony of a new cinema city in Qingdao. He had its name “Film Capital of the East” (东方影都) erected in meter-high letters on the hill of Sun Mountain (朝阳山) off the west coast of the port city. As a counterpart to the “Hollywood” sign on the Beverly Hills, the world-famous logo of the United States’ soft power.
Wang promised to build the most technically advanced and largest movie studios in the world. Starting in 2018, “at least a hundred films” would be produced per year, including 30 international blockbusters, which would also be co-produced with Hollywood studios. He also announced annual film festivals. Qingdao would become the Chinese Cannes.
I was among the handful of foreign correspondents Wang invited to attend the two-day extravaganza. The first thing we saw was an unusually long red carpet. Wang planned a spectacular show, for which he had flown in everyone who was anyone in Hollywood. Still jet-lagged, they had to walk the carpet for him in the evening. I wrote at the time: “Wang holds court, has 27 megastars parade: They are all there: Leonardo DiCaprio, Nicole Kidman, Catherine Zeta-Jones, John Travolta, Kate Beckinsale, Ewan McGregor, Christoph Waltz. Representing China are Zhang Ziyi, Jet Li to Tony Leung. Also in attendance are studio bosses from Warner Brothers, Universal, Paramount, Sony, Lions Gate, Harvey Weinstein and the President of the Academy of Motion Picture, which awards the Oscars. According to the WSJ, Wang paid $50 Million alone to bring everyone in.
The Hollywood stars didn’t even know the name Qingdao before they arrived. John Travolta had spread his fingers when journalists asked him what he thought of the (not yet existing) cooperation between Hollywood and China’s film industry. He gave the less-than-believable response that he was “thrilled”. Christoph Waltz wittily responded about how he would feel on a carpet that was going nowhere: “The red carpet here is a little redder than usual.”
The studio bosses had persuaded their stars to tag along. They believed that Wang would give them access to the film business in China. The magic word was box office revenue. In 2012, the People’s Republic rose to become the second-largest cinema market after the United States, with $2.7 billion at the box office. The new market became even more attractive after Beijing increased its import quotas for US movies from 20 per year to 34. In addition, the studios received a quarter of the earnings from their films at the box office, instead of the previous 13 percent.
Hollywood first became aware of Wang in 2012 when he bought AMC Group, one of the largest movie theater operators in the US, for $2.5 billion. Wang had previously expanded his real estate business to include a new entertainment pillar, investing in film and cultural businesses. He acquired Chinese cinema groups. With AMC, he suddenly owned every tenth cinema in the world and a third of all IMAX movie theaters.
After his billion-dollar investment in the Qingdao film city project, Wang’s rise seemed unstoppable. In 2016, he acquired Hollywood’s Legendary Entertainment film studio, which had produced blockbusters such as Batman, for $3.5 billion. He bought more cinema chains and built half a dozen large theme and amusement parks in China to compete with Disney.
Wang’s rise ended abruptly in 2017, when he sold off all of his foreign investments and domestic cultural, leisure and theme parks. He sold them, including his Qingdao film city, to real estate group Sunac for the equivalent of €6 billion. Wang did not even regain one-tenth of his total investment, wrote financial journal Caijing.
Beijing had stopped him. He had fallen out of favor with Party leader Xi Jinping. He long enjoyed the support of soccer fan Xi, for whom he played the role of sports lobbyist at Fifa and bought a 20 percent stake in the Spanish team “Atlético de Madrid” for $46 million in 2015. His plans to break Hollywood’s cultural dominance with a Chinese movie city were also in Xi’s interest. But Wang had invested more than $20 billion in his overseas projects and even more in cultural parks. Like Wang, a group of other Chinese billionaires who had bought prestige projects around the world was brought down. Xi was wary of them. He also sensed capital flight.
In the book “Red Carpet,” author Erich Schwartzel dedicates a separate chapter to the “rise and fall of China’s richest man”. He reveals that in 2017, Xi “personally, forbade China’s state-owned banks from lending to Wanda for further overseas acquisitions”. Party member Wang understood the warning, sold, and returned to his former core real estate business. That’s how he survived the low blow economically. Since 2020, he once again began to invest, but “low key” in the northeast metropolis of Changchun, in a combined cinema, real estate, tourism and sports project.
The Qingdao Film City also opened “low key” in 2018 under its new owner. Its modern studios have so far produced few blockbusters co-produced with Hollywood, such as “Pacific Rim 2” 《环太平洋：雷霆再起》or “The Great Wall”《长城). Qingdao is mainly used by domestic television productions.
The competition against the influence of the US soft power is waged by Beijing with the familiar methods of economic blackmail and threats. “Red Carpet” depicts how China’s influence on Hollywood and the Disney corporation is growing. Both giants repeatedly bow to Beijing’s censors for fear of losing the market with the world’s highest box-office revenue since 2020.
In his chapter on “Censorship,” Schwartzel lists dozens of examples of how China uses its economic power as political leverage to alter movies and screenplays that would allegedly belittle the People’s Republic or harm its system. I highly recommend the book. After all, the topic of Chinese influence is just as relevant in Europe and Germany as it is in the United States.
There, Beijing has taken the edge off Hollywood, whose movies China has only allowed to be imported since 1994. No issue seems too small for Beijing not to take offense. China’s censors objected to a chase sequence in the 2006 movie “Mission Impossible III”. As Tom Cruise rushes through Shanghai’s streets, one scene shows laundry hung out to dry between narrow apartment blocks. That didn’t fit the cityscape of modern Shanghai. Paramount Pictures cut the scene.
Less amusing was the demand of the watchdogs about the movie “Man in Black 3”. All scenes where Will Smith and Tommy Lee Jones pull out their high-tech erasers to wipe the memory of eyewitnesses had to be cut. This apparently could have been misinterpreted as an allusion to China’s control.
Censors would always force Hollywood to make changes as soon as they suspected sensitive details, be it about Tibet, Tiananmen or China’s claim to the South China Sea. Sex scenes are also taboo, even in James Bond. The 2015 fantasy movie “Pixel” had its scene of video game characters destroying China’s Great Wall removed. Instead, the Taj Mahal disintegrates. Premature censorship and anticipatory obedience are rampant at US film studios.
Back when Wang bought the AMC movie theater chain in 2012 and transformed his group, Hollywood even admired how market-oriented a communist entrepreneur could act. Schwartzel writes, “It only took a few months between 2016 and 2017 for Hollywood to learn who really calls the shots in China.”
This realization in 2017 about Wang did not travel from Hollywood to Wall Street. In 2020, brokers were shocked when Party leader Xi cleaned up China’s high-tech overachievers, who he deemed too capitalistic and politically overconfident. He took down the Alibabas and Tencents down a notch, all seemingly out of the blue. Actually, Wall Street should have seen it coming.
In the mood for campfire romance, but a simple bonfire just won’t cut it? Then off to go “glamping”! This is the new term for “glamorous camping”. And it’s all the rage among China’s urbanites these days. This wild neologism originates from the English. But in the meantime, the idea of an outdoor experience without any great comfort compromises has spilled over into China. Here, the concept is known as 精致露营 jīngzhì lùyíng (“exquisite camping”).
The idea is to be close to nature, but with all the comforts of civilization. In the suburbs of Chinese metropolises, for example, various companies offer a spot in lusciously furnished tent settlements. These are beautifully located in scenic landscapes, but are more or less the cozy version of a rough sleeping bag and camping mat reality. 领包入住 lǐng bāo rùzhù – “move in with your bag under your arm” is the slogan many providers use to lure in city tourists. And you certainly get what you are promised: Some tents even come with carpet and double bed, air conditioning and minibar. A hotel room under canvas, so to speak, only with a barbecue area directly outside the zipper and a clear view of the starry sky.
The entire Middle Kingdom is currently experiencing a camping boom. And not just at campgrounds. In parks and along the waterfronts of big cities, more and more outdoor enthusiasts can be found – with colorful tents and hammocks, camping chairs and stylish folding tables, outdoor thermos flasks and vintage-style oil lamps, and of course plenty of provisions. The new passion for the outdoors has also been fueled by the Covid pandemic. Ever since, more and more Chinese are drawn to parks and suburbs for a mini-vacation (微旅游 wēi-lǚyóu), in other words, for local recreation.
The success of numerous entertainment formats (综艺节目 zōngyì-jiémù) about camping also proves that the time is ripe for alternative vacation experiences. It all started in 2019 with the Japanese documentary series “Camping for One” (一人露营 Yī rén lùyíng), which soon gained a following among hipsters and trendsetters in China. Then last year, Korean reality shows “Spring Camping” (春季露营 Chūnjì lùyíng) and “Smart Camping Life” (机智的露营生活 jīzhì de lùyíng shēnghuó) captivated many young Chinese, fueling the camping hype. On China’s film rating platform Douban (豆瓣 Dòubàn), both formats are rated 9 out of 10.
Chinese production companies have also caught wind of this trend and have followed suit with their own shows. Hunan TV, for example, airs the fourth season of its hit travel format “Divas hit the road” under the motto “Camping” (花儿与少年露营季 Huār yǔ shàonián – lùyíng jì). China’s streaming giant iQiyi (爱奇艺 Àiqíyì) isn’t slacking off either, and hopped on the bandwagon with “Let’s go camping” (一起露营吧 Yìqǐ lùyíng ba) since late April.
The flagging Chinese economy is delighted, as the new national hobby opens up promising market segments with great growth potential, for example tourism and outdoor gear. And maybe this will also lead to new common interests and discussion topics between Chinese and Western outdoor enthusiasts.
Verena Menzel runs the online language school New Chinese in Beijing.
Human rights should be given “greater weight in German economic policy,” Robert Habeck declared in a recent interview. To prove how serious he is, the German Minister of Economics wants to make an example of VW. The German automaker is to be denied investment guarantees for its plant in Urumqi, citing human rights violations in Xinjiang. “We cannot guarantee projects in the Xinjiang region in view of forced labor and mistreatment of Uyghurs,” Habeck said. This move would be a first and would also affect other German companies such as BASF, writes Finn Mayer-Kuckuk. The Chinese, however, will not leave the push uncommented: The involvement of foreign companies in Xinjiang holds great symbolic value for Beijing.
In an attempt to meet their climate goals, European companies in China are under pressure. According to a new study by the European Chamber of Commerce in China, 46 percent of companies surveyed reported that they had already begun decarbonizing their local operations in the People’s Republic. But the environment for swift enforcement remains difficult and intransparent, writes Christiane Kuehl. The Chinese energy mix still includes not enough renewables. In addition, there is a lack of open markets, common standards, and awareness of the climate crisis at the provincial level.
Her diary from a sealed-off city made Fang Fang world-famous – and shunned in her home country. Yet even before the “Wuhan Diary,” the writer had described true-to-life stories from everyday life in China. Her stories always focus on compassion and empathy for people who otherwise have no voice, Fang Fang’s translator Michael Kahn-Ackermann tells Ning Wang in today’s interview. Fang Fang’s latest novel “Wuetendes Feuer” is another mirror of Chinese society. Set in the 1990s, it depicts the epochal changes that continue to shape the country and its leading Party to this day.
“Wuetenes Feuer” is set in the 1990s. What has changed in China since that time?
First, you have to ask, where has what changed? This novel is set in a village, presumably in the Hubei province, and some of the changes that have taken place in the countryside are different from those that have happened in the cities over the last 20 to 30 years. If you stick strictly to this village, then you have to say that probably not all that much has changed in many places. As the case of the woman sold and chained at home has shown, which, after all, has received an incredible response on Chinese social media. (In the province, the case of a woman who was kidnapped at a young age, sold and then lived chained for more than 18 years became public in February – editor’s note).
Was the response so emotional because the case brought up memories from their own families?
The case has shown that the abduction of young girls and women and their sale to families in less developed rural areas is still flourishing. And that the authorities do not take an offensive approach to it, but a very defensive one. In other words, they try to cover up such information as much as possible and not let the whole thing become a topic of public debate. But it has been known for quite some time that there is trafficking in women within China and that you have to watch out for young girls so that they don’t get kidnapped in the countryside and to some extent in the cities. In light of such incidents, it must be said that it may well be that not so much has changed in the village where the story of this novel is set. As far as the social structure is concerned, as far as the interaction between the male and female members of the family is concerned, and as far as the living conditions are concerned.
But the people in China lead a very good life compared to many other countries.
On a global or national scale, the change is of course immense. But at the same time, the disparity in living conditions between the large cities, especially in the east and south of the country, and the rural regions has become even more pronounced; they are now even more different from they were back in the 1990s. Living habits are also further apart than they were back then.
Is “Wuetendes Feuer” a criticism of these conditions?
I don’t see the novel so much as criticism, but rather as a portrayal of the conditions in a part of the country that is very important for China, namely the rural regions, in an epochal time of change in which more or less everything is in disarray. In other words, the social structures, the economic conditions, the moral concepts, the wishes and needs of the people, and the aspirations of the young generation.
So the things Fang Fang condemns still exist today?
I believe that this process that Fang Fang is describing is still going on today. Even though much has changed, this upheaval of circumstances, the difficulty of finding one’s way in an extremely contradictory time, is the real theme of this novel. The example of a young woman who is caught up in this tension, who wants something that her parents can’t even imagine and fails because of the firmly established family, moral and social structures.
The book is less a criticism – that is always implicitly included – than a fairly accurate description of a social revolution that we do not recognize here as a revolution because it is not accompanied by a political revolution. The political system has remained the same. But all social relations have changed in a revolutionary way over a relatively short period.
Do Fang Fang’s books “Wuhan Diary”, “Soft Burial” and “Wuetendes Feuer” have anything in common?
There are common elements in the author’s fundamental positions, who takes sides for all those who are not in the spotlight, who are victims of these changes. Whose fate is kept secret for political reasons. But also because of the reluctance of the generations of parents and grandparents to talk about this time. In addition to the massive political taboos that manifest themselves in school education, in the media, and publications everywhere, there is of course the same phenomenon that we Germans, especially my generation, know well: A generation of parents who do not want to talk about their experiences.
In this respect, there is virtually no reappraisal – apart from very few exceptional cases. Nor does it take place publicly; it is prevented as far as possible. And Fang Fang’s literature, as well as the literature of some other authors, breaks into this void. But there are not many who take on these forgotten fates of the last 70 years.
Is Fang Fang still allowed to publish in China after “Wuhan Diary”?
There has been no officially declared ban. It is not written down anywhere, but factually not a single publisher dares to publish a single line by her, no newspaper dares to do an interview with her. So, effectively, she is banned from writing.
Do you know how she is doing?
I recently have been in contact with her, which is currently only possible via WeChat. Although she does not say it openly, she is certainly not very well. She is still treated as a traitor to the homeland. Even if that is not officially said.
So rehabilitation is not to be expected?
As long as the whole Zero Covid campaign continues and needs to continue, she will not be rehabilitated in any way.
The young protagonist of “Wuetendes Feuer” ends up setting her abusive husband on fire. Is this also a criticism of a society that has fallen apart at the seams?
What is striking about the novel is that the Party does not appear in it at all, and government institutions hardly appear at all. I think this is very realistic. For this rural everyday life and the private life of the characters, they play a rather negligible role. It becomes clear in this novel that the traditional family structures, the clan structures, are more powerful in everyday life than the official governmental structures, which always hold up the equality of men and women as a political goal.
I have the impression, although I have never discussed it with her, that she regards such social processes as something irreversible, i.e., as something that takes hold of people like a natural phenomenon and puts them in all kinds of possible and impossible situations. Fang Fang tries hard to avoid explicit blame. She depicts these changes while breaking the rule against talking about their victims.
What does Fang Fang focus on in her work?
Compassion for these people is an elementary feeling for her that guides her work as a writer. She is less concerned with pointing the finger at something or someone. She wants to make people aware that there are large parts of the population who suffer, who are somewhat defenselessly exposed to these processes and who, partly due to political pressure and partly due to the desire to forget, are no longer noticed at all today. The fact that she is attacked for sympathizing is something she suffers from as well. This hits her very hard. She experiences that in such processes, no one or hardly any people sympathize with her. This is an experience that many people have had over the last 50 or 70 years: The moment they are criticized or attacked by government authorities, their peers turn away from them and there is no more sympathy.
Michael Kahn-Ackermann is a sinologist and translator. He has been working as China Special Representative for the Mercator Foundation since 2012. Before that, Kahn-Ackermann was the longstanding Director of the Goethe-Institut in Beijing and founding Director of the first Goethe-Institut in China. He lives in Nanjing.
German Minister of Economics Robert Habeck intends to make values the guiding principle of trade policy – and is making an example of VW. “A company that also operates in the Uyghur province wanted to extend investment guarantees. We are not agreeing to that,” Habeck told the German newspaper Welt am Sonntag. Human rights are being given “greater weight in German economic policy.” It was the first time that such guarantees did not materialize because a company was associated with human rights violations. According to the German newsmagazine Der Spiegel, the company in question is Volkswagen.
The interview published by “Welt am Sonntag” was not specifically focused on China. The main topic of the conversation was arms deliveries to Ukraine and Habeck’s role in the government. Only later on did Welt am Sonntag ask about trade relations with China. Habeck announced his intention to “reduce dependencies”. “China is a great trading partner, but we are in systemic competition – an autocratic regime there, liberal democracies here.” Germany would have to protect its security interests.
Investment guarantees will continue to be decided on a case-by-case basis. However, he said there was continuity with his predecessor Peter Altmaier (CDU) in the current decision. “The guideline that my ministry already developed at the end of the last legislative period is: We cannot guarantee projects in the Xinjiang region in the face of forced labor and mistreatment of the Uyghurs.”
These investment guarantees are a form of indirect subsidy for foreign business. German companies that want to invest internationally but fear political risks can request reinsurance from the government. This is intended to make it easier for companies to make investment decisions. If the deal goes wrong because the foreign government does not play along as hoped, the federal government pays the loss. However, the Ministry of Commerce is not required to take all the risks from the private sector. It is at the government’s discretion to provide the guarantees. This is why VW appears decidedly calm about the impending rejection.
The VW application was not about securing a new commitment in Xinjiang, but about existing guarantees for four investments in other parts of China. But Volkswagen also operates a plant in Urumqi. Admittedly, it is a comparatively small plant. But for the Chinese leadership, the commitment in Xinjiang has considerable symbolic value. VW invested in the provincial capital in 2012 in response to pressure from Beijing. The activities of international companies give legitimacy to the Xinjiang policy. After all, Beijing claims to boost the local economy for the benefit of its citizens. The contracts were signed in the presence of former German Chancellor Angela Merkel.
The oppression of the Uyghurs was already a dominant theme in 2012. However, the extent of human rights violations at that time cannot be compared with the developments since 2018. Back then, residents were still allowed to move about freely; today, millions of Uyghurs have been locked up in camps, and total surveillance reigns. At the same time, Volkswagen’s business success depends on the goodwill of the Chinese government.
And if Habeck’s actions set the course for the German government’s future guiding signals to the economy, then a second Dax company could also be influenced by the decisions made by his department. BASF has also invested in Xinjiang. Unlike the automaker, for which Urumqi is not an ideal site, the chemical company benefits from the region’s gas deposits.
At the beginning of 2023, a supply chain act will take effect in Germany. It mandates that companies exercise diligence in complying with international labor standards – including those of suppliers. A company like BASF is closely intertwined with the local economy in China. The German Federal Office of Economics and Export Control (BAFA) monitors compliance with the due diligence requirements. It reports directly to Robert Habeck. How closely the officials will look depends on his instructions. Thus, it gives him additional leverage for his new value-focused approach that goes far beyond refusing investment guarantees (China.Table reported).
BAFA receives its own staff at a new location in Borna to implement the law. Not only can the officials request formal reports, they can also inspect business premises and demand records. Above all, they can issue specific requirements for improvements and enforce them with penalties.
China’s ship to the West has sailed. I wonder how often have I heard this phrase from German politicians or business leaders in the past 45 years I was involved with the People’s Republic? Society has allowed itself to be taken over by the charms of the capitalist dream, be it in fashion, pop music, lifestyle, fast-food chains, soft drinks or cars. Actually, it is quite the opposite. The Party has subjugated the souls of Western entrepreneurs and made them addicted to the market. It is using China’s purchasing power to subvert American soft power Hollywood-style and “influence its content”.
In his new book, “Red Carpet – Hollywood and China,” (Penguin 2022) he describes for the first time how Beijing has managed to score heavily in the “global battle for cultural dominance”. Wall Street Journal (WSJ) Hollywood correspondent and book author Erich Schwartzel concludes that China managed to turn its economic leverages into political ones over the past 20 years. With astounding success.
I witnessed part of this saga myself. “The future belongs to us. We are 1.3 billion people. Starting in 2018, we will be the biggest in the movie business,” boasted Wang Jianlin, (王健林) head of real estate conglomerate Wanda and a multi-billionaire in September 2013 during the groundbreaking ceremony of a new cinema city in Qingdao. He had its name “Film Capital of the East” (东方影都) erected in meter-high letters on the hill of Sun Mountain (朝阳山) off the west coast of the port city. As a counterpart to the “Hollywood” sign on the Beverly Hills, the world-famous logo of the United States’ soft power.
Wang promised to build the most technically advanced and largest movie studios in the world. Starting in 2018, “at least a hundred films” would be produced per year, including 30 international blockbusters, which would also be co-produced with Hollywood studios. He also announced annual film festivals. Qingdao would become the Chinese Cannes.
I was among the handful of foreign correspondents Wang invited to attend the two-day extravaganza. The first thing we saw was an unusually long red carpet. Wang planned a spectacular show, for which he had flown in everyone who was anyone in Hollywood. Still jet-lagged, they had to walk the carpet for him in the evening. I wrote at the time: “Wang holds court, has 27 megastars parade: They are all there: Leonardo DiCaprio, Nicole Kidman, Catherine Zeta-Jones, John Travolta, Kate Beckinsale, Ewan McGregor, Christoph Waltz. Representing China are Zhang Ziyi, Jet Li to Tony Leung. Also in attendance are studio bosses from Warner Brothers, Universal, Paramount, Sony, Lions Gate, Harvey Weinstein and the President of the Academy of Motion Picture, which awards the Oscars. According to the WSJ, Wang paid $50 Million alone to bring everyone in.
The Hollywood stars didn’t even know the name Qingdao before they arrived. John Travolta had spread his fingers when journalists asked him what he thought of the (not yet existing) cooperation between Hollywood and China’s film industry. He gave the less-than-believable response that he was “thrilled”. Christoph Waltz wittily responded about how he would feel on a carpet that was going nowhere: “The red carpet here is a little redder than usual.”
The studio bosses had persuaded their stars to tag along. They believed that Wang would give them access to the film business in China. The magic word was box office revenue. In 2012, the People’s Republic rose to become the second-largest cinema market after the United States, with $2.7 billion at the box office. The new market became even more attractive after Beijing increased its import quotas for US movies from 20 per year to 34. In addition, the studios received a quarter of the earnings from their films at the box office, instead of the previous 13 percent.
Hollywood first became aware of Wang in 2012 when he bought AMC Group, one of the largest movie theater operators in the US, for $2.5 billion. Wang had previously expanded his real estate business to include a new entertainment pillar, investing in film and cultural businesses. He acquired Chinese cinema groups. With AMC, he suddenly owned every tenth cinema in the world and a third of all IMAX movie theaters.
After his billion-dollar investment in the Qingdao film city project, Wang’s rise seemed unstoppable. In 2016, he acquired Hollywood’s Legendary Entertainment film studio, which had produced blockbusters such as Batman, for $3.5 billion. He bought more cinema chains and built half a dozen large theme and amusement parks in China to compete with Disney.
Wang’s rise ended abruptly in 2017, when he sold off all of his foreign investments and domestic cultural, leisure and theme parks. He sold them, including his Qingdao film city, to real estate group Sunac for the equivalent of €6 billion. Wang did not even regain one-tenth of his total investment, wrote financial journal Caijing.
Beijing had stopped him. He had fallen out of favor with Party leader Xi Jinping. He long enjoyed the support of soccer fan Xi, for whom he played the role of sports lobbyist at Fifa and bought a 20 percent stake in the Spanish team “Atlético de Madrid” for $46 million in 2015. His plans to break Hollywood’s cultural dominance with a Chinese movie city were also in Xi’s interest. But Wang had invested more than $20 billion in his overseas projects and even more in cultural parks. Like Wang, a group of other Chinese billionaires who had bought prestige projects around the world was brought down. Xi was wary of them. He also sensed capital flight.
In the book “Red Carpet,” author Erich Schwartzel dedicates a separate chapter to the “rise and fall of China’s richest man”. He reveals that in 2017, Xi “personally, forbade China’s state-owned banks from lending to Wanda for further overseas acquisitions”. Party member Wang understood the warning, sold, and returned to his former core real estate business. That’s how he survived the low blow economically. Since 2020, he once again began to invest, but “low key” in the northeast metropolis of Changchun, in a combined cinema, real estate, tourism and sports project.
The Qingdao Film City also opened “low key” in 2018 under its new owner. Its modern studios have so far produced few blockbusters co-produced with Hollywood, such as “Pacific Rim 2” 《环太平洋：雷霆再起》or “The Great Wall”《长城). Qingdao is mainly used by domestic television productions.
The competition against the influence of the US soft power is waged by Beijing with the familiar methods of economic blackmail and threats. “Red Carpet” depicts how China’s influence on Hollywood and the Disney corporation is growing. Both giants repeatedly bow to Beijing’s censors for fear of losing the market with the world’s highest box-office revenue since 2020.
In his chapter on “Censorship,” Schwartzel lists dozens of examples of how China uses its economic power as political leverage to alter movies and screenplays that would allegedly belittle the People’s Republic or harm its system. I highly recommend the book. After all, the topic of Chinese influence is just as relevant in Europe and Germany as it is in the United States.
There, Beijing has taken the edge off Hollywood, whose movies China has only allowed to be imported since 1994. No issue seems too small for Beijing not to take offense. China’s censors objected to a chase sequence in the 2006 movie “Mission Impossible III”. As Tom Cruise rushes through Shanghai’s streets, one scene shows laundry hung out to dry between narrow apartment blocks. That didn’t fit the cityscape of modern Shanghai. Paramount Pictures cut the scene.
Less amusing was the demand of the watchdogs about the movie “Man in Black 3”. All scenes where Will Smith and Tommy Lee Jones pull out their high-tech erasers to wipe the memory of eyewitnesses had to be cut. This apparently could have been misinterpreted as an allusion to China’s control.
Censors would always force Hollywood to make changes as soon as they suspected sensitive details, be it about Tibet, Tiananmen or China’s claim to the South China Sea. Sex scenes are also taboo, even in James Bond. The 2015 fantasy movie “Pixel” had its scene of video game characters destroying China’s Great Wall removed. Instead, the Taj Mahal disintegrates. Premature censorship and anticipatory obedience are rampant at US film studios.
Back when Wang bought the AMC movie theater chain in 2012 and transformed his group, Hollywood even admired how market-oriented a communist entrepreneur could act. Schwartzel writes, “It only took a few months between 2016 and 2017 for Hollywood to learn who really calls the shots in China.”
This realization in 2017 about Wang did not travel from Hollywood to Wall Street. In 2020, brokers were shocked when Party leader Xi cleaned up China’s high-tech overachievers, who he deemed too capitalistic and politically overconfident. He took down the Alibabas and Tencents down a notch, all seemingly out of the blue. Actually, Wall Street should have seen it coming.
In the mood for campfire romance, but a simple bonfire just won’t cut it? Then off to go “glamping”! This is the new term for “glamorous camping”. And it’s all the rage among China’s urbanites these days. This wild neologism originates from the English. But in the meantime, the idea of an outdoor experience without any great comfort compromises has spilled over into China. Here, the concept is known as 精致露营 jīngzhì lùyíng (“exquisite camping”).
The idea is to be close to nature, but with all the comforts of civilization. In the suburbs of Chinese metropolises, for example, various companies offer a spot in lusciously furnished tent settlements. These are beautifully located in scenic landscapes, but are more or less the cozy version of a rough sleeping bag and camping mat reality. 领包入住 lǐng bāo rùzhù – “move in with your bag under your arm” is the slogan many providers use to lure in city tourists. And you certainly get what you are promised: Some tents even come with carpet and double bed, air conditioning and minibar. A hotel room under canvas, so to speak, only with a barbecue area directly outside the zipper and a clear view of the starry sky.
The entire Middle Kingdom is currently experiencing a camping boom. And not just at campgrounds. In parks and along the waterfronts of big cities, more and more outdoor enthusiasts can be found – with colorful tents and hammocks, camping chairs and stylish folding tables, outdoor thermos flasks and vintage-style oil lamps, and of course plenty of provisions. The new passion for the outdoors has also been fueled by the Covid pandemic. Ever since, more and more Chinese are drawn to parks and suburbs for a mini-vacation (微旅游 wēi-lǚyóu), in other words, for local recreation.
The success of numerous entertainment formats (综艺节目 zōngyì-jiémù) about camping also proves that the time is ripe for alternative vacation experiences. It all started in 2019 with the Japanese documentary series “Camping for One” (一人露营 Yī rén lùyíng), which soon gained a following among hipsters and trendsetters in China. Then last year, Korean reality shows “Spring Camping” (春季露营 Chūnjì lùyíng) and “Smart Camping Life” (机智的露营生活 jīzhì de lùyíng shēnghuó) captivated many young Chinese, fueling the camping hype. On China’s film rating platform Douban (豆瓣 Dòubàn), both formats are rated 9 out of 10.
Chinese production companies have also caught wind of this trend and have followed suit with their own shows. Hunan TV, for example, airs the fourth season of its hit travel format “Divas hit the road” under the motto “Camping” (花儿与少年露营季 Huār yǔ shàonián – lùyíng jì). China’s streaming giant iQiyi (爱奇艺 Àiqíyì) isn’t slacking off either, and hopped on the bandwagon with “Let’s go camping” (一起露营吧 Yìqǐ lùyíng ba) since late April.
The flagging Chinese economy is delighted, as the new national hobby opens up promising market segments with great growth potential, for example tourism and outdoor gear. And maybe this will also lead to new common interests and discussion topics between Chinese and Western outdoor enthusiasts.
Verena Menzel runs the online language school New Chinese in Beijing.
