Less toxic relations between Japan and China
Saturday, 23 February 2008
David Pilling
CALLING someone "my little dumpling" is not a term of endearment in Japan, at least not these days. Ever since 10 people fell ill, one seriously, after eating frozen gyoza made in China, the Japanese media have been struck down with poison dumpling fever.
The gyoza were imported by Japan Tobacco, a semi-state-owned cigarette maker that, in seeking to diversify into foods, improbably hit on a product even more dangerous than its normal offering. But suspect-in-chief is China. The discovery of a highly toxic pesticide in some of the gyoza packaging reinforces prejudices about the state of Chinese hygiene and organisation. "At a popular level, this somehow confirms suspicions about a malfunctioning of Chinese society," says Akihiko Tanaka, a China expert at Tokyo University.
Japan is fertile ground for anti-China sentiment. In a recent Pew Research Center poll, 67 per cent of Japanese had an unfavourable impression of China, in contrast to the 1970s and 1980s when China was often among Japan's favourite nations. As historian Kenneth Pyle notes, this generation sees China not as wartime victim but as economic and strategic rival.
It is not surprising that Japanese popular sentiment should have soured. Particularly after the Tiananmen Square massacre of 1989, China's schools went out of their way to highlight Japanese wartime atrocities, creating a generation of Chinese even more antagonistic towards "Japanese devils" than their elders. When Chinese crowds booed Japan's football team a couple of years ago, many Japanese decided it was time to boo back.
With poisoned gyoza adding fat to the fire, this hardly seems the moment for an optimistic assessment of Sino-Japanese relations. Yet Beijing and Tokyo have made huge strides in repairing their broken relationship over the past 15 months. They stand on the threshold of what could be their most important breakthrough in years. By all accounts, the two are close to striking a deal on sharing gas reserves in the East China Sea. Any agreement, which could be sealed in time for an April visit to Tokyo by Hu Jintao, China's president, would have political ramifications far beyond the economic ones.
That is because the argument is more about territory than gas, confirmed quantities of which are fairly modest. Many of the fields lie on the median line between the two countries' coastlines. The problem for Japan is that Beijing does not recognise that line. Instead, it argues that China's exclusive economic zone extends much closer towards Japan's shoreline. By that interpretation, the gas is unquestionably Chinese.
Until recently that was that. But a diplomatic breakthrough now appears to be within reach. China may even be ready to recognise that the median line has some validity.
Only a few years ago, when Junichiro Koizumi, the former Japanese prime minister, was in the habit of visiting Tokyo's Yasukuni shrine - to China, a hated symbol of Japanese militarism - leaders of the two countries were barely on speaking terms. But with Mr Koizumi gone, Beijing has held out an olive branch. Tokyo has grasped it.
Even Shinzo Abe, Mr Koizumi's patriotic successor, stayed away from Yasukuni. That gesture triggered a series of high-level exchanges, including his own ice-melting trip to Beijing in October 2006. Things have become even warmer under Yasuo Fukuda, a Japanese prime minister with stronger pro-Beijing credentials.
If all that goodwill is converted into an agreement on gas-sharing, it would lay to rest an issue that has lurked menacingly for decades. Unlike in Europe, where France and Germany were able to reach a postwar political settlement, formal reconciliation between Asia's two most important powers never led to true friendship. The cold war saw to that. As a client state of the US, Japan was never able to pursue the practical accommodation with China that many of its leaders wanted. Now, by co-operating on something tangible, political reconciliation can be wrapped in an ostensibly economic project.
One should not exaggerate. It will be decades, if ever, before Asia embraces a common currency. But other quasi-economic projects could follow, including transfer of Japanese environmental technology. If both sides choose to keep history in the bottle - and that is a big if - there is, indeed, much mutual gain to be had. Having decent relations with Japan bolsters China's image as a peacefully rising power. For Japan, China is an eager market for Japanese steel, precision machinery and, increasingly, consumer goods. Even the dumpling debacle can be put in a positive light. For one thing, it shows Japanese people that their interests and those of Chinese people are intertwined. Some 17 per cent of Japanese food imports come from China.
More important, the poisoning has unleashed an impressive round of gyoza diplomacy. Chinese authorities investigated the case with commendable speed. Statements by politicians on both sides have been restrained. The Japanese have allowed Chinese investigators into Japan, while Japanese inspectors have given the suspect Chinese factory a once-over. Japan is even admitting the possibility that pesticides might have been deliberately injected, a crime that could have taken place just as easily in Japan as in China.
Whatever the truth, both governments have shown that popular hysteria need not poison relations. In the same way, a dispute over gas fields could be turned into a force for reconciliation rather than division.
........................................
FT Syndication Service
CALLING someone "my little dumpling" is not a term of endearment in Japan, at least not these days. Ever since 10 people fell ill, one seriously, after eating frozen gyoza made in China, the Japanese media have been struck down with poison dumpling fever.
The gyoza were imported by Japan Tobacco, a semi-state-owned cigarette maker that, in seeking to diversify into foods, improbably hit on a product even more dangerous than its normal offering. But suspect-in-chief is China. The discovery of a highly toxic pesticide in some of the gyoza packaging reinforces prejudices about the state of Chinese hygiene and organisation. "At a popular level, this somehow confirms suspicions about a malfunctioning of Chinese society," says Akihiko Tanaka, a China expert at Tokyo University.
Japan is fertile ground for anti-China sentiment. In a recent Pew Research Center poll, 67 per cent of Japanese had an unfavourable impression of China, in contrast to the 1970s and 1980s when China was often among Japan's favourite nations. As historian Kenneth Pyle notes, this generation sees China not as wartime victim but as economic and strategic rival.
It is not surprising that Japanese popular sentiment should have soured. Particularly after the Tiananmen Square massacre of 1989, China's schools went out of their way to highlight Japanese wartime atrocities, creating a generation of Chinese even more antagonistic towards "Japanese devils" than their elders. When Chinese crowds booed Japan's football team a couple of years ago, many Japanese decided it was time to boo back.
With poisoned gyoza adding fat to the fire, this hardly seems the moment for an optimistic assessment of Sino-Japanese relations. Yet Beijing and Tokyo have made huge strides in repairing their broken relationship over the past 15 months. They stand on the threshold of what could be their most important breakthrough in years. By all accounts, the two are close to striking a deal on sharing gas reserves in the East China Sea. Any agreement, which could be sealed in time for an April visit to Tokyo by Hu Jintao, China's president, would have political ramifications far beyond the economic ones.
That is because the argument is more about territory than gas, confirmed quantities of which are fairly modest. Many of the fields lie on the median line between the two countries' coastlines. The problem for Japan is that Beijing does not recognise that line. Instead, it argues that China's exclusive economic zone extends much closer towards Japan's shoreline. By that interpretation, the gas is unquestionably Chinese.
Until recently that was that. But a diplomatic breakthrough now appears to be within reach. China may even be ready to recognise that the median line has some validity.
Only a few years ago, when Junichiro Koizumi, the former Japanese prime minister, was in the habit of visiting Tokyo's Yasukuni shrine - to China, a hated symbol of Japanese militarism - leaders of the two countries were barely on speaking terms. But with Mr Koizumi gone, Beijing has held out an olive branch. Tokyo has grasped it.
Even Shinzo Abe, Mr Koizumi's patriotic successor, stayed away from Yasukuni. That gesture triggered a series of high-level exchanges, including his own ice-melting trip to Beijing in October 2006. Things have become even warmer under Yasuo Fukuda, a Japanese prime minister with stronger pro-Beijing credentials.
If all that goodwill is converted into an agreement on gas-sharing, it would lay to rest an issue that has lurked menacingly for decades. Unlike in Europe, where France and Germany were able to reach a postwar political settlement, formal reconciliation between Asia's two most important powers never led to true friendship. The cold war saw to that. As a client state of the US, Japan was never able to pursue the practical accommodation with China that many of its leaders wanted. Now, by co-operating on something tangible, political reconciliation can be wrapped in an ostensibly economic project.
One should not exaggerate. It will be decades, if ever, before Asia embraces a common currency. But other quasi-economic projects could follow, including transfer of Japanese environmental technology. If both sides choose to keep history in the bottle - and that is a big if - there is, indeed, much mutual gain to be had. Having decent relations with Japan bolsters China's image as a peacefully rising power. For Japan, China is an eager market for Japanese steel, precision machinery and, increasingly, consumer goods. Even the dumpling debacle can be put in a positive light. For one thing, it shows Japanese people that their interests and those of Chinese people are intertwined. Some 17 per cent of Japanese food imports come from China.
More important, the poisoning has unleashed an impressive round of gyoza diplomacy. Chinese authorities investigated the case with commendable speed. Statements by politicians on both sides have been restrained. The Japanese have allowed Chinese investigators into Japan, while Japanese inspectors have given the suspect Chinese factory a once-over. Japan is even admitting the possibility that pesticides might have been deliberately injected, a crime that could have taken place just as easily in Japan as in China.
Whatever the truth, both governments have shown that popular hysteria need not poison relations. In the same way, a dispute over gas fields could be turned into a force for reconciliation rather than division.
........................................
FT Syndication Service