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U.S. Reaction to China Lacks a Moral Grounding

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<i> Joshua S. Goldstein is an associate professor of international relations at USC and co-author of a book on U.S.-Soviet-Chinese relations, to be published next year. </i>

Once again, historic changes in foreign lands are overtaking American decision-makers. Just as our President seemed to have gotten hold of the greased pig in Europe, it has slipped out of his hands in Asia. The real lesson of the massacre in Beijing--whoever ends up winning--is that U.S. policy must adjust to a world of rapid and often unanticipated change. If it does not, we will continue to see world leadership slip out of American hands.

So far, our political leaders’ responses to the events unfolding in China have yet to coherently address the historic scope of the crisis. President Bush’s minimalist approach sees today’s world through lenses colored by the 1970s, a time of incremental adjustments in American position after the Vietnam War. This cautious style is out of touch with both the magnitude of the blood bath in Beijing and the gut-level feelings of Americans.

Into this leadership void have stepped congressional liberals like Stephen Solarz, giving voice to Americans’ outrage, demanding action and pushing the President to go beyond “deploring” violence and impose sanctions. This second approach engages the massacre morally, but still offers no broader guide for U.S. policy in a changing world.

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A third response, from conservatives like Jesse Helms, offers a broader framework, but it is better suited to the 1950s than the late 1980s: “We shouldn’t be dealing with Communists in the first place,” they say.

How should our government be responding to the turmoil in China?

U.S. policy must start from the realization that these are extraordinary events. The army of a great power has slaughtered unarmed citizens by the hundreds, in the heart of the capital city, in full view of the world. Unlike Hungary in the 1950s or Czechoslovakia in the 1960s, this repression of dissidence was not carried out by a foreign army. Unlike Cambodia in the 1970s, this was not the culmination of a long and bloody civil war. Unlike many instances of violent rebellions or rioting put down by government forces, the Beijing demonstrations were patriotic and nonviolent. And they happened in a new age of universally accessible telecommunications; governments can no longer rely on official news blackouts to keep the carnage secret.

When “the whole world is watching,” a response that arises from a coherent moral position is good politics, not sentimentalism. World leadership is not purely technical; it must include moral leadership. Mikhail S. Gorbachev grasped this lesson in wooing world opinion to be more favorably disposed toward his policies of change. Not that we can impose an American version of political morality on other countries (as we have learned repeatedly); but we must have a consensus of that morality, one that does not apply different standards to friendly and unfriendly countries.

Finally, America must avoid alliances with regimes that are being swept aside by historical forces. The Deng-Li military regime in China is a case in point. At best, this regime will lose legitimacy and fall soon; at worst, we are looking at a coup d’etat that may not succeed even in the immediate sense. The nominal leader of the country, Communist Party Secretary Zhao Ziyang, reportedly was ousted by a faction that is relying on part of the military (forces mustered from outside of Beijing) to consolidate its power in the capital by using brutal force. That, by any other name, is a coup. But it is far from clear that this “government” will have the power to rule, which is different from having the power to kill.

The United States need not view such a regime as the legitimate government in China. On the contrary, the United States should position itself for good relations with the likely successor government. Our responses, then, should distinguish the military and the autocrats from the Chinese nation itself. For example, it is logical to break off governmental and military cooperation (short of severing formal diplomatic relations), to recall our ambassador, to extend visas for Chinese students in the United States, and to drastically curtail sales to China of “dual technology” items with military applications. But the United States should not demand the end of communism in China or the introduction of multi-party elections; we should not bring up the matter of Taiwan, or cut economic, scientific and cultural ties.

And we should not treat each new crisis in isolation. Ultimately, the turmoil in China and in much of the world has less to do with the United States than with the Soviet Union. Profound changes within the Soviet Union, and in its “new international thinking,” are generating shock waves around the world. It was behind the shield of Gorbachev’s visit to Beijing that the Chinese students, adopting “The Internationale” as their theme song, built their protest into a mass movement cutting across all sectors of society and penetrating into the party, the government and the military. The Chinese people’s concept of democracy resembles Gorbachev’s experiment more than the American political system--the “Goddess of Democracy” statue notwithstanding. Gorbachev will gain ground as a result of the events in China. His measured political reforms suddenly look good in Moscow, considering the alternatives. They must look very good to the people of Beijing.

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In short, just as our government thought it had overtaken Gorbachev’s initiative in Europe, it must think again. Beyond our immediate response to China, however, there is no substitute for a coherent policy toward a changing world. Until we open our eyes to the new reality, Americans will continue to find ourselves chasing after history.

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