Friday, July 30, 2021

How Biden Can Bolster India’s Democracy

 

  • ALYSSA AYRES is Dean of the Elliott School of International Affairs at George Washington University and an Adjunct Senior Fellow at the Council on Foreign Relations.

As a guest at the G-7 summit in the United Kingdom in June, Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi addressed a special session on “open societies,” where he highlighted his country’s “civilizational commitment to democracy, freedom of thought, and liberty.” Modi’s remarks were laudable, as was India’s support for a G-7 joint statement reaffirming a “shared belief in open societies, democratic values and multilateralism.” Yet only months before, the democracy watchdog Freedom House had downgraded India from “free” to “partly free,” citing a “multiyear pattern” of “rising violence and discriminatory policies affecting the Muslim population and . . . a crackdown on expressions of dissent” under the Modi government.

The health of India’s democracy is a matter of much greater concern for U.S. President Joe Biden than it was for his predecessor. As Biden has sought to restore U.S. leadership on the global stage, he has emphasized liberal values in a world riven between democratic and authoritarian systems. The authoritarian challenge posed by Russia and China is growing, and so, too, is India’s importance as a potential democratic counterweight in the Indo-Pacific.

But shoring up U.S. support for India’s democracy will be easier said than done. The Biden administration will need to put values back into the U.S.-Indian relationship without severing the strategic ties that have flourished over the past two decades. India has historically rejected foreign criticism of its domestic affairs, so Washington will not be able to use familiar diplomatic templates, such as a formal bilateral human rights dialogue, to reinforce democratic values, as it does with many other nations. Instead, it should pursue a reciprocal discussion with India, acknowledging that the United States has work of its own to do and underscoring the need for both nations to live up to their democratic values. It should also emphasize that further deterioration of India’s democracy could dampen domestic support in the United States for deeper bilateral relations. The Indian government may reject this approach as well, but Washington has a better chance of succeeding this way than by lecturing from on high.

The Biden administration should also expand democratic engagement with India beyond the national level, cultivating ties between U.S. and Indian elected officials across the political spectrum at the state and local levels. It should also raise concerns about freedom of expression in its cyber-discussions with Modi’s government and revive U.S.-Indian collaboration to raise resources for the UN Democracy Fund. More than anything, though, Washington will need to be open in its dealings with New Delhi and accept that when it comes to democracy and rights issues, there are historical limitations on India’s willingness to engage.

NATURAL ALLIES

Although it is not a formal treaty ally of the United States, India has become an increasingly important strategic partner over the last two decades. U.S. President Barack Obama’s administration designated India a “Major Defense Partner” in 2016, and U.S. President Donald Trump continued to deepen security ties during his administration. As a counterweight to China, India’s appeal is obvious: it is now the sixth-largest economy in the world, and it has one of the largest militaries by personnel. It is also a staunch defender of the principles of a free and open Indo-Pacific, in particular freedom of navigation and international rule of law.

India’s scale, its free and fair elections, and its long-standing commitment to the freedoms and protections enshrined in its liberal constitution have long made it an important part of the global democratic order, even if it sometimes falls short of its values. The Quadrilateral consultation, an informal gathering of democracies comprising Australia, India, Japan, and the United States, emerged in part because of the appeal of a partnership forged on the basis of shared democratic values and in part because of shared concerns about increasing Chinese aggression in the Indo-Pacific. If the major fault line of the twenty-first century is between authoritarianism and democracy, as Biden asserts, then forging common cause among like-minded democracies promises clear national security benefits.

But in recent years, the U.S.-Indian relationship has veered away from values. In particular, since Modi was reelected in 2019, his government has alarmed human rights advocates and democracy watchdogs by restricting freedom of expression and eroding protections for Indian Muslims. The Modi government abruptly repealed Kashmir’s traditional autonomy; rammed through a constitutional amendment that appeared to introduce a religious test for fast-track naturalization of persecuted religious minorities from Afghanistan, Bangladesh, and Pakistan; and cracked down on popular protests, including by disrupting access to the Internet.

During the Trump administration, the U.S. State Department dutifully raised concerns about some of these developments, but Trump himself set a tone of indifference, preferring to focus on deepening military relations. In perhaps the nadir of his administration’s dealings with New Delhi, a religious riot broke out during Trump’s February 2020 visit to India and resulted in the deaths of more than 50 people, most of them Muslim. Trump not only failed to express sorrow for the loss of life but called the Indian prime minister “incredible” on religious freedom.

India still enjoys broad bipartisan support in the United States—a 2020 Chicago Council survey showed similarly positive views among Democrats and Republicans of U.S. ties with India—but that support is built on the notion that the world’s oldest democracy and its largest democracy have an inherent affinity, a connection of “natural allies,” to quote former Indian Prime Minister Atal Bihari Vajpayee. However, mounting concern over the Modi government’s rights record could dampen those high levels of support. India has already attracted sharp U.S. criticism for its policies in Kashmir and its new citizenship law. And these events have surfaced partisan differences: a 2019 resolution in the U.S. House of Representatives to urge the Indian government to protect rights and religious freedoms garnered more than 60 cosponsors, almost entirely Democrats. Another outcome of India’s drift away from democracy could be a partisan split in U.S. support for the bilateral relationship—something that could eventually imperil it.

A TWO-WAY DIALOGUE

The Biden administration is seeking to put values back into the U.S.-Indian relationship. In his first call with Modi, the president underscored his “desire to defend democratic institutions and norms around the world” and called shared democratic values “the bedrock for the U.S.-India relationship.” Later, in testimony before the House Foreign Affairs Subcommittee on Asia and the Pacific, Dean Thompson, a senior State Department official, said the United States had “significant concerns” about Indian actions that were “inconsistent with India’s democratic values.”

Engaging India on these issues while maintaining defense ties will require a delicate dance. New Delhi is not typically receptive to external criticism on domestic matters, seeing it as an encroachment on Indian sovereignty. A nonaligned power during the Cold War, India remains committed to the principle of noninterference and has charted a foreign policy of “strategic autonomy” from all powers. Washington should therefore not expect to add an official human rights dialogue of the kind it holds with many countries to the bilateral agenda or any formal diplomatic consultations on religious freedom or freedom of expression.

Still, there are things the Biden administration can do to open up a deeper conversation with India on democratic values. First, it can initiate private conversations at the highest levels of government about sensitive rights issues. The Biden administration should live by its own motto of the “power of our example” and begin with the United States’ own history of racial discrimination and other challenges to its democracy. Doing so would disarm Indian accusations of hypocrisy and signal the United States’ willingness to shine a light on itself. Acknowledging what is already obvious to the world—that the United States does not always live up to its ideals and that criticism of its failures often catalyzes reform—could clear the way for more productive discussions with India about its own democratic shortcomings.

Second, the United States should broaden its engagement not only with India’s national government but with its numerous political parties and state and local officials. India has a large and diverse political landscape, spanning a wide range of political opinions. The two countries took a good first step in 2019 by announcing a parliamentary exchange, which is designed to strengthen ties between members of the U.S. House Congressional Caucus on India and Indian Americans and Indian members of Parliament. This forum should be strengthened and expanded and should include discussion about democratic values. Members of Congress, although largely supportive of a strong U.S.-Indian relationship, also share the concerns of their constituents, some of whom worry about the health of India’s democracy.

The Biden administration could also expand this concept of parliamentary exchange to include U.S. state and local officials and their Indian counterparts, deepening the dialogue and adding to the diversity of political perspectives from both countries. U.S. officials regularly enjoy these types of interactions with their counterparts from Australia, France, Germany, Japan, and the United Kingdom. There is no reason they shouldn’t do the same with Indian officials as well.

Third, Washington should expand its dialogues with New Delhi on cyber-issues to incorporate freedom of expression. India’s large and growing Internet user base makes it a vital market for many American companies, and the Indian government wants greater access to data generated in India. Although freedom of expression is enshrined in the Indian constitution, not all speech is protected. There are exceptions for national security and public order, and colonial-era criminal statutes on sedition are still sometimes used to target dissent. The rapid adoption of social media has turned the Internet, like print and broadcast media before it, into an arena of profound disagreement over acceptable speech and expression. U.S. platforms, including Twitter and Facebook, increasingly find themselves embroiled in questions of law and policy on freedom of expression, so Washington would do well to raise this issue with New Delhi.

Finally, the Biden administration should take advantage of shared concerns about rising Chinese influence to identify opportunities, however narrow, to improve cooperation with Modi’s government in support of democracy around the world. The United States and India have not always worked well together on this front, in part because India views the idea of democracy promotion warily, seeing it as an excuse for interference and potentially even regime change. In keeping with its views on national sovereignty, India does not generally support resolutions condemning individual countries for their rights records in bodies such as the UN Human Rights Council. Only rarely has it voted with the United States on the UN Security Council or in the General Assembly. But Chinese inroads into South Asia may eventually force New Delhi to reconsider its views on democracy promotion, creating a possible opening for Biden.

One area where India has staked out support for democracy globally is as a co-founder and major contributor to the UN Democracy Fund, a grant-making body created to support democracy and civil society around the world. India was once the second-largest donor to the fund after the United States, and both countries championed it in its early days. But New Delhi’s contributions have declined notably since Modi assumed office in 2014. Given India’s status as a co-founder of the fund, and the positive history of U.S.-Indian cooperation to enhance its work, the Biden administration should encourage Modi’s government to renew its contributions to and engagement with this unobjectionable UN-endorsed body.

Critics of the Indian government’s rights record might dismiss these suggestions as empty talk. But more bilateral talk about democracy is precisely what India and the United States need. Each country derives much of its soft power from its status as a leading democracy. An honest reciprocal discussion that puts democratic values squarely on the agenda would be to the benefit of both. U.S. and Indian officials often talk of belonging to the world’s oldest and largest democracies. With democracy under strain around the world, it is time to go beyond platitudes and inject more values into the U.S.-Indian relationship.

Becoming Strong - The New Chinese Foreign Policy

 

  • YAN XUETONG is a Distinguished Professor and Dean of the Institute of International Relations at Tsinghua University.

In March, China’s top diplomat, Yang Jiechi, made headlines when he told U.S. officials at a summit in Alaska that they did “not have the qualification . . . to speak to China from a position of strength.” Even after years of heightened tensions between Beijing and Washington, the remark seemed unusually harsh, especially coming from a seasoned diplomat. The setting, too, was noteworthy: Yang was speaking at the first high-level diplomatic meeting between China and the United States since U.S. President Joe Biden entered the White House. It seemed like an unmistakable warning to the new administration.

At home, Yang’s comment circulated widely on social media, resonating with the belief of many Chinese that their country has found its voice on the global stage. International media read the statement as reflective of a post-pandemic China: ambitious and outspoken in its claim to global leadership.

Yang’s statement did, indeed, reflect a paradigm shift underway in Beijing: China believes that its rise to great-power status entitles it to a new role in world affairs—one that cannot be reconciled with unquestioned U.S. dominance. Beijing’s initial hopes that a Biden administration would ease tensions with China have been dashed. Instead, it views Biden’s attempts at isolating China diplomatically as a serious threat and is working on multiple fronts to make the country less vulnerable to U.S. aggression and pressure.

Beijing’s newfound confidence does not mean it will challenge Washington in every single domain. China rejects U.S. leadership on some issues, but as a developing country, it will limit competition to areas in which it feels it has an advantage, such as the fight against COVID-19, poverty reduction, trade, international infrastructure and development, digital payment systems, and 5G technologies, among others. Across the board, however, a post-pandemic China will make its voice heard with greater determination than before and will push back forcefully against any attempts to contain it.

CHINA’S DUAL IDENTITY

To be the world’s “largest developing country” (a popular moniker in Beijing) once meant that China’s capabilities surpassed those of its immediate peers. Nowadays, it means the country’s power is second only to that of the United States. Consider the sharp contrast between Chinese success and American failure in the fight against COVID-19: China suffered the least among all major powers during the pandemic and is the only major economy to have grown over the past year. By the end of 2020, its GDP had reached 71 percent of U.S. GDP, up from 66 percent in 2019, and Chinese policymakers are confident that they will close the remaining gap in the coming decade. In their eyes, China has gone through the stages of standing up and getting rich and is now advancing to the stage of becoming strong. The U.S.-led unipolar order is fading away, its demise hastened by China’s rise and the United States’ relative decline. In its place will come a multipolar order, with U.S.-Chinese relations at its core.

Until recently, Beijing viewed this once-in-a-century shift with unalloyed optimism, predicting a “bright future for Chinese national rejuvenation.” The turmoil of the Trump years—especially Washington’s decision in 2017 to label China a “strategic competitor”—caused Chinese officials to dial down their enthusiasm. China’s most recent five-year plan strikes a more sober tone, listing opportunities in the realm of technology and development and warning of the instability fueled by “unilateralism, protectionism, and hegemonism.” Yet the bottom line, in Beijing’s eyes, remains the same: China has become a global power that can meet the rest of the world on an equal footing.

China’s global reach still has its limits. Despite being a major power, China also thinks of itself as a developing country—and rightly so, considering that its GDP per capita remains far behind those of advanced economies. (The International Monetary Fund puts China’s 2020 GDP per capita at only $10,484, compared with $40,146 for Japan, $45,733 for Germany, and $63,416 for the United States.) The “developing country” label is also meant to signal Beijing’s geopolitical alignment: even if China catches up with the West economically, the thinking goes, its loyalties will still lie firmly with the developing world—it will, as Chinese President Xi Jinping put it in a 2018 speech, “forever belong to the family of developing countries.”

This dual identity will color all aspects of China’s post-pandemic foreign policy. As a developing country, China still lacks the resources required of a true world leader, with globe-spanning responsibilities, especially in the military realm. As a great power, however, it will not follow the United States’ lead, and on some issues, competition with Washington will be inevitable.

Take the issue of ideological rivalry. On the one hand, China is anxious not to frame relations with the West as a new Cold War: leaders in Beijing believe that Soviet-style ideological expansionism could trigger a backlash that might hinder their country’s continued growth, and they do not expect their ideology to become as popular as Western liberalism is today—hence their insistence that China is a developing country “with Chinese characteristics,” a phrase meant to imply that its political system and governance model cannot merely be exported to other countries.

On the other hand, China will try to shape an ideological environment favorable to its rise, pushing back against the notion that Western political values have universal appeal and validity. The United States defines democracy and freedom in terms of electoral politics and individual expression, for example, whereas China defines them in terms of social security and economic development. Washington will have to accept these divergences of opinion rather than try to impose its own views on others.

The same conviction will animate China’s post-pandemic diplomatic strategy. Contrary to the common perception, Beijing does not reject multilateral rules and institutions out of hand. It will not, however, accept rules that the United States makes without consultation with China. Instead, Beijing’s objective is for international norms to rest on a truly inclusive multilateralism. Such is the idea behind the China-based multilateral forums that Beijing has been building with a host of states and regions, such as its cooperation forums with African, Arab, Latin American, Pacific island, and Southeast Asian states. From other major powers, meanwhile, Beijing expects treatment based on equality and mutual respect, as illustrated by its assertive retaliatory sanctions strategy. When the Trump administration imposed sanctions on 14 high-ranking Chinese officials over the disqualification of some Hong Kong lawmakers, China took revenge with sanctions on 28 American officials, including then Secretary of State Mike Pompeo. Likewise, Beijing quickly retaliated against British and EU sanctions over the Xinjiang issue. On both of these matters, the Chinese government considers any sanctions or criticism of its policies as interference in its internal affairs.

China’s economic policies are shifting, too, impelled both by the pandemic, which revealed the vulnerability of global supply chains, and by U.S. attempts at economic decoupling. In fact, the Chinese government believes that protectionism, a slowing world economy, and shrinking global markets will outlast the pandemic. Under a new “dual circulation” strategy, which was unveiled at a high-profile Chinese Communist Party meeting in May 2020, Beijing therefore aims to lessen its dependence on foreign markets. The goal is to shore up China’s massive internal market and to build robust domestic chains of supply, distribution, and consumption, thus reducing the country’s vulnerability to outside economic pressure, especially from the United States. Science and technology will be at the center of this effort, laying the groundwork for future development. The resulting domestic boom, it is hoped, will in turn improve economic relations with other states and aid the recovery of the world economy.

Beijing will also seek to reduce its exposure to U.S. financial sanctions, including by promoting the use of the renminbi in foreign trade and investment. Last year, it started trials of a digital currency in a handful of large cities, an innovation that could one day allow China and its business partners to conduct international transactions outside SWIFT, the financial messaging system, which is under de facto U.S. control and a major source of American geopolitical leverage. China will, of course, not turn inward altogether: the Belt and Road Initiative, Beijing’s massive global infrastructure campaign, will continue, although progress has been slow during the pandemic. Since the “dual circulation” strategy enshrines the domestic market, and not global linkages, as Beijing’s primary political focus, the BRI’s projects will henceforth be based more on market demand than on political considerations. China will also continue to seek technological cooperation with other countries, provided they can resist U.S. pressure to decouple from China on this front.

China’s military strategy, by contrast, will remain largely unchanged in the post-pandemic world. Beijing seeks to turn the People’s Liberation Army into a world-class fighting force ready for war at any moment, emphasizing quality over quantity, cyber-capabilities over conventional prowess, and artificial-intelligence-based weapons systems over individual combat skills. Yet the PLA’s mission will remain one of deterrence, not expansion. China’s 2021 military budget, albeit larger than that of other major powers, is less than a third of what the United States spends on defense. On top of this budget disparity, China’s military lacks experience: the PLA has not been involved in a shooting clash since 1989 and has not fought a real war since 1979. As a result, Beijing remains wary of direct military confrontations and will continue to reject military alliances, which could drag it into an unnecessary war. For the same reason, China has been careful not to let territorial conflicts in the South China Sea and on the Sino-Indian border escalate into live-fire clashes.

A HEALTHY COMPETITION

Biden’s election initially raised hopes among Chinese officials and media that Washington’s China policies were due for a fundamental rethink. That optimism quickly faded. Instead of a radical break, Biden’s policies to date are in many ways a continuation of his predecessor’s confrontational approach. As a result, U.S.-Chinese relations are unlikely to grow any less tense or competitive than they have been in recent years.

The Biden administration’s forays into exclusive multilateralism—that is, its attempts to form issue-based coalitions in opposition to China on technology and human rights—are bound to be a particular source of tension in the years ahead. Beijing views this as the most serious external threat to its political security and the biggest obstacle to its national rejuvenation. U.S.-led anti-China technology coalitions are an obstacle on China’s path to technological superiority, and similar ideological coalitions will encourage secessionists in Hong Kong, Taiwan, Tibet, and Xinjiang. Both involve core interests on which China will not make concessions.

To counter U.S. attempts at forming such coalitions, Beijing has already begun shoring up its bilateral strategic partnerships. Within weeks of the public clash between American and Chinese representatives at the Alaska summit earlier this year, Beijing embarked on an extensive diplomatic campaign, dispatching its defense minister to the Balkans and its foreign minister to the Middle East, where the latter official signed a 25-year strategic cooperation agreement with Iran and pledged $400 billion in Chinese investment in the country. At home, China received foreign ministers from Indonesia, Malaysia, the Philippines, Singapore, and South Korea and signed a joint statement with Russia that, in a departure from tradition, omitted the usual assurances that Chinese-Russian cooperation does not target any third party. (In the years ahead, Moscow is likely to be an important partner of Beijing’s in pushing back against the politicization of human rights issues and in promoting alternative models of democracy and nonideological multilateralism.) Xi also sent the North Korean leader Kim Jong Un a message stating his willingness to further consolidate Beijing’s relations with Pyongyang.

Beijing still hopes it can confine tensions with Washington to the economic realm and avoid an escalation to military clashes. Yet the risk of a conflict over Taiwan, especially, is growing. Beijing’s most recent five-year plan reiterates its commitment to pursuing peace and prosperity across the Taiwan Strait, a policy that has long prevented a potential U.S.-Chinese war over the island. Although China has not given up the principle of peaceful unification to date, it may abandon it if Taiwan announces de jure independence. The more other countries support Taiwan’s secessionist policies, the more the PLA will carry out military exercises to deter Taiwan. In the meantime, Beijing hopes to reach a tacit understanding with Washington that maintaining peace in the Taiwan Strait is a shared interest.

This is not to suggest that cooperation with Washington is out of the question. Beijing has expressed its willingness to play an active role in reforming global governance regimes, in aiding the global economy’s post-pandemic recovery, and in tackling transnational challenges in concert with Washington. Xie Zhenhua, China’s climate envoy, has already met with his U.S. counterpart, John Kerry. Chinese Foreign Minister Wang Yi has signaled that China does not oppose the Biden administration’s efforts to relaunch the 2015 Iran nuclear deal, and U.S. and Chinese diplomats have discussed plans for each side to recognize the other’s COVID-19 vaccinations for the purposes of overseas travel. Meanwhile, China is open to trade negotiations based on the so-called Phase One agreement signed by the Trump administration in 2020, and even some U.S. officials, such as Tom Vilsack, the agriculture secretary, have noted that China has so far made good on the promises made in that agreement.

Even if competition carries the day, it would be best thought of as a race, not a boxing match: each side is doing its best to get ahead, but neither has any intention of destroying or permanently changing the other. In 2019, prior to becoming high-level national security officials in the Biden administration, Kurt Campbell (the National Security Council’s top Asia official) and Jake Sullivan (now the national security adviser) argued as much in these pages. “The basic mistake of engagement,” they wrote, “was to assume that it could bring about fundamental changes to China’s political system, economy, and foreign policy.” A more realistic goal, they continued, was to seek “a steady state of clear-eyed coexistence on terms favorable to U.S. interests and values.” That view is not too far removed from Wang’s hope that both sides should engage in “healthy competition” based on “improving oneself and illuminating the other side, rather than mutual attacks and a zero-sum game.” If neither Beijing nor Washington intends to subjugate the other, their rivalry will be fierce—but milder than the existential great-power struggles of the twentieth century.

NEW BATTLEGROUNDS

How will such competition play out in practice? It will, for one, unfold on novel battlegrounds, chief among them cyberspace. As the digital sphere takes over more and more of people’s lives, cybersecurity will become more important than territorial security. Already, the digital economy is growing rapidly as a share of major powers’ GDPs, making it an essential source of national wealth. The race for leadership on 5G and 6G telecommunications networks will increasingly shape the contest, and for the time being, China seems to be in the lead. By February 2021, Chinese companies, including the technology giant Huawei, accounted for 38 percent of approved 5G patents, compared with around 17 percent for U.S. companies. (In other areas, however, American digital platforms remain ahead of their Chinese counterparts, and U.S. digital platforms account for some 68 percent of the global digital economy in terms of market capitalization, compared with just 22 percent for Chinese companies.)

Meanwhile, international cooperation will increasingly take the form of issue-specific coalitions instead of truly international (or even regional) institutions. At times, Beijing and Washington might belong to some of the same clubs: for example, when it comes to the nonproliferation of cyberweapons and certain kinds of artificial intelligence tools. In the long run, the digital superpowers could even have a shared interest in introducing and enforcing some international tax regulations to protect their own companies from being overtaxed by other countries. For the most part, however, China and the United States will build rival teams, with other countries deciding which to join on a case-by-case basis, depending on which arrangement best serves their national interests. Most governments will welcome this trend, having already adopted hedging strategies to avoid picking sides between the two powers.

Of course, a club-based international system will bring complications of its own: a country that joins some coalitions led by Washington and others led by Beijing will be a less trustworthy partner for both powers. It could also become common for members of the same coalition to punish one another for actions required by their membership in other clubs. For instance, both Australia and China are members of the Regional Comprehensive Economic Partnership, a trade agreement among a dozen states in the Asia-Pacific, yet disputes over human rights recently led Australia to cancel its BRI deal with China, which responded by suspending an economic dialogue between the two countries. Likewise, eastern European states have often told Chinese diplomats that their membership in the EU forces them to side against China on political matters. The same countries, however, cooperate with China on infrastructure investment and technology, at the risk of violating EU regulations, citing their participation in the Cooperation Between China and Central and Eastern European Countries, a diplomatic forum in the region initiated by China.

Such conflicts are likely to heighten political instability and accelerate the trend toward deglobalization in the decade ahead, but they are preferable to a world split into rigid geopolitical blocs. As long as individual states remain members of clubs on both sides of the divide, it will not be in their interest to throw in their lot with one side only. This bipolar configuration will cause some tension, but on the whole, it will be far less dangerous than all-out, Cold War–style competition.

China’s post-pandemic foreign policy is just beginning to take shape. Beijing has always adjusted its policies to shifting domestic and foreign circumstances, following Deng Xiaoping’s approach of “crossing the river by feeling the stones.” The coming era will be no different: achievements and failures will inform China’s path and choices. The backdrop to these adjustments, however, will be a radically altered global landscape, in which unilateral decisions by Washington and the various alliances and issue-specific coalitions it leads will no longer be as viable as they once were. As many states prepare for a return to life after the pandemic, they should come to terms with this new reality.

China’s Sputnik Moment? How Washington Boosted Beijing’s Quest for Tech Dominance

 

  • DAN WANG is a Shanghai-based Technology Analyst at Gavekal Dragonomics.

In 2016, AlphaGo, a computer program developed by machine learning experts in London, beat the world’s top players of the classical Chinese board game Go. It was a revolutionary breakthrough in artificial intelligence: AlphaGo had demonstrated an unprecedented capacity for intuition and pattern recognition. That a Western program had been the first to achieve this AI feat prompted some commentators to declare that China had experienced a “Sputnik moment,” an event that would trigger widespread unease in the country about its perceived technological lag. Indeed, China has had a Sputnik moment in recent years—but it wasn’t prompted by AlphaGo’s victory. Rather, since 2018, tightening U.S. trade restrictions have threatened the viability of some of China’s biggest firms, fueling anxiety in Beijing and forcing Chinese companies to reinvent the U.S. technologies they can no longer access.

The Chinese government has long had twin ambitions for industrial policy: to be more economically self-sufficient and to achieve technological greatness. For the most part, it has relied on government ministries and state-owned enterprises to pursue these goals, and for the most part, it has come up short. In semiconductor production, for example, China has barely crossed the starting line. Rather, China’s private entrepreneurial firms have driven the bulk of the country’s technological success, even though their interests have not always aligned with the state’s goal of strengthening domestic technology. Beijing has, for example, recently begun cracking down on certain consumer Internet companies and online education firms, in part to redirect the country's efforts towards other strategic technologies such as computer chips. This has meant that China’s most impressive technological achievements—building state-of-the-art capabilities in renewable energy, consumer Internet services, electronics, and industrial equipment—have as often been driven in spite of state interference as they have because of it.

Then came U.S. President Donald Trump. By sanctioning entrepreneurial Chinese companies, he forced them to stop relying on U.S. technologies such as semiconductors. Now, most of them are trying to source domestic alternatives or design the necessary technologies themselves. In other words, Trump’s gambit accomplished what the Chinese government never could: aligning private companies’ incentives with the state’s goal of economic self-sufficiency.

A MIXED BAG

The Chinese state has intervened in the economy since the early days of the People’s Republic. In addition to its famous five-year plans, the first of which was implemented in 1953, the government developed several discrete plans explicitly focused on advancing its technological capability. For decades, industrial policy mostly consisted of empty statements. The 1990s, in particular, saw the government issuing a series of industrial policies that functioned as aspirational goals rather than binding targets and, unsurprisingly, achieved little.

As the economist Barry Naughton has noted, the turning point came with the implementation of the government’s “medium- and long-term plan for science and technology” in 2006. In stark contrast to its lackluster execution of previous industrial policies, Beijing devoted substantial financial and administrative resources to the plan. The State Council, China’s highest administrative authority, outlined the development of 16 “megaprojects,” each under the mandate of a designated ministry, and directed $5 billion to $6 billion to these efforts every year—something that had not occurred under any previous policy. Although a few of these megaprojects did make small inroads, the program as a whole spent large sums without appreciably improving the country’s technological capabilities.

As it happened, however, the medium- and long-term plan turned out to be a warm-up exercise for China’s evolving industrial policy. In 2010, the State Council unveiled another initiative, which designated emerging technologies, such as electric vehicles and next-generation computing, as the drivers of economic growth. By then, the global financial crisis had shaken Beijing’s purse loose, and the government began lavishing resources on favored projects. In addition to direct financial support, the Chinese government has helped domestic technology companies through other means—by using government buying power, for example, to increase demand for solar panels.

But the centerpiece of the Chinese state’s industrial planning apparatus is the “Made in China 2025” plan. Announced in 2015, the plan highlights ten high-tech industry segments in which Chinese firms should make breakthroughs, and it sets self-sufficiency targets in striking detail. One advisory document, for example, specifies that Chinese semiconductor production ought to reach between 49.10 and 75.13 percent of the domestic market size in 2030, that domestic industry should master extreme ultraviolet lithography by 2025, and that the country should be producing multicore central processing units for computer servers by 2030. Such specific targets bring to mind the days of China’s planned economy, when the state micromanaged all industrial output.

Made in China 2025 triggered a fierce backlash among many industrialized countries, which were wary of China’s efforts to dominate advanced technology. Having failed to anticipate this reaction, Chinese leaders subsequently tried to dismiss Made in China 2025 as an aspirational planning exercise developed by overly confident academics. But by then, the state had already released a stream of plans focused on advancing select technologies—such as semiconductors and artificial intelligence—as well as enormous proposals for direct subsidies, cheaper access to capital, and investments from public-private funds. Beijing had already showed that it was keen not only to catch up on the technologies of the past but also to dominate the industries of the future—and that it was willing to spend vast sums to get there.

What has China really accomplished with these plans? If the country’s recent industrial policy programs had reached fruition, the country would be a technological giant today—but it is not. Chinese tech firms have mastered the production of certain goods, including renewable power technologies, electric vehicles, high-speed rail supplies, heavy machinery, and automotive parts. China is at the fore of 5G network deployment, boosted by Huawei’s strength in mobile networking equipment.

But on bigger-ticket items that are explicit government targets, such as semiconductors and aviation technologies, China’s industrial policy has failed. Long-term programs devoted to semiconductor development have yielded a few modest successes but have mostly resulted in floundering companies that are nowhere near the cutting edge. The Commercial Aircraft Corporation of China (COMAC), China’s answer to Airbus and Boeing, is years behind schedule in its development of a new fleet of planes. China has worked for decades to develop a car brand that can rank among the world’s top automakers—but its car companies have had difficulty producing anything that consumers in developed countries actually want to buy.

Even the success stories require caveats. When Chinese companies master a product, they often end up turning it into a commodity, tanking profits across the board—including for themselves. Chinese companies may dominate the solar panel industry, but the market is so fiercely competitive that few companies make much profit. China may be at the fore of high-speed rail, too, but it has accomplished this by requiring foreign companies to turn over sensitive technologies to potential competitors, embittering many foreign partners. And many of China’s leading companies are still critically dependent on U.S. technologies.

In other words, Chinese central planning has not defied economic gravity and proved that the government knows better than the market. There is a meaningful difference in China between companies that are formally designated as part of the state system and those with entrepreneurial founders: state-owned enterprises, such as COMAC, China Telecom, and China Petroleum and Chemical Corporation, or Sinopec, are not the country’s most globally competitive firms. Successful Chinese firms, such as ByteDance (the company behind TikTok) and DJI (a top consumer drone manufacturer), have grown around the state sector rather than out of it. State-owned companies are insulated from real market competition and treat their private counterparts with jealousy, sometimes wielding state power to squeeze them out of existence. More often than not, reliance on government spending results in lazy firms surviving on subsidies rather than private firms capitalizing on state assistance.

It is true that Chinese industrial policies have had some success. China today is a huge market featuring a growing number of dynamic firms. A large manufacturing base trains many workers to produce sophisticated technologies. China’s enormous size has facilitated competitive state procurement infrastructure, which has hastened some strong technological advancements, as it has, for example, in solar power. But these policies have not propelled China to the lead in foundational technologies such as semiconductors—and the government has had little to do with the direct achievements of China’s largest technology firms. The private Internet giants ByteDance, Alibaba, and Tencent are the only companies that can look upon their Silicon Valley counterparts as peers. In hardware, the entrepreneurial firms DJI, Huawei, and Lenovo are the only Chinese companies developing cutting-edge consumer products.

TOO FAR?

The limitations of Chinese central planning did not stop Made in China 2025 from setting off alarm bells in Washington. In the final week of Barack Obama’s presidency, the White House released a plan to defend U.S. primacy on semiconductors. By the time Trump took office, there was a broad bipartisan appetite to confront predatory Chinese business practices.

Many of the Trump administration’s early actions to that effect made sense. China requires domestic firms to invest in overseas businesses to acquire the technologies they lack at home, a policy that has stoked fears that China could end up owning large chunks of the U.S. technology sector. After the state-owned Tsinghua Unigroup, a semiconductor company, made a brazen bid in 2015 to acquire Micron Technology, the last American memory-chip maker, the Trump administration responded in 2018 by stiffening the process by which it reviews foreign investment in domestic companies. Congress and the White House granted the Committee on Foreign Investment in the United States new authority to block foreign investments in sensitive technology companies. The Department of Justice also channeled more resources into prosecuting the theft of trade secrets. And the Office of the United States Trade Representative detailed China’s unfair economic practices and created the legal basis for tariffs on certain Chinese products outlined in Made in China 2025.

Had the Trump administration stopped there, the response would have constituted an appropriate plan to protect U.S. firms from predatory Chinese practices. But it went much further, putting in place an extensive export-control regime that weaponized U.S. dominance of technologies such as semiconductors to cripple Chinese firms. Because these sanctions deprived Chinese companies of access to American-made components, they threatened the viability of Chinese firms even in their domestic market.

When the Trump administration banned the sale of critical U.S.-made parts to the Chinese telecommunications company ZTE, for example, its operations collapsed as a result. It did the same to Fujian Jinhua, then China’s leading memory-chip maker, which subsequently failed, too. The bloodletting reached its peak in the final days of Trump’s presidency. The U.S. Department of Commerce had by then added the Chinese firms DJI, Hikvision (a video security company), Huawei, and Semiconductor Manufacturing International Corporation (SMIC) to its list of entities that, for national security or foreign policy reasons, have restricted access to U.S. technology. The White House also issued executive orders intended to ban TikTok and WeChat in the United States, but the language was so broad that it might have prevented any American person or firm from interacting with each of their parent companies. 

The White House reserved its most intense firepower for Huawei. The Commerce Department wrote a highly complex rule for Huawei alone, asserting extraterritoriality on all items sold to the company that are based on U.S. technologies, even if they were produced by foreign firms overseas. This restriction has prevented Huawei from working not just with U.S. companies but also with many of its Chinese, Taiwanese, and European vendors, leaving it in a precarious position. Today, the company is unable to procure new components and has been forced to rely on its dwindling stockpiles to sustain operations. Huawei’s smartphone sales are collapsing, and in response, the company has pivoted to far less lucrative low-tech endeavors, such as automotive parts and fish farming technologies.

AN UNLIKELY UNION

Beijing watched with anger as the Trump administration successively labeled its companies national security threats and imposed severe restrictions on them. China’s foreign ministry repeatedly pledged to take “all necessary countermeasures,” while the nationalist news outlet The Global Times promised retaliation against Apple, Boeing, Cisco, and Qualcomm.

But Beijing’s actions have not matched its fierce rhetoric. Far from doing unto Apple what the U.S. government has done unto Huawei, the Chinese government has, for the most part, continued to roll out the red carpet for foreign firms. Tesla, for example, was granted an unprecedented license to establish a wholly owned auto production plant in Shanghai. It is clear why Beijing wants to maintain good relations with U.S. firms: they are major employers in China, continue to provide critical technology, and act as a moderating force against the hawkishness of the U.S. government.

At the same time, Beijing is pushing hard for technological self-sufficiency. Top officials including President Xi Jinping have discussed the importance of improving “indigenous innovation” and gaining control over “chokepoint technologies.” The 2020 Central Economic Work Conference, an annual meeting that sets the national agenda for the Chinese economy, identified advancements in science and technology as the top two economic priorities of 2021—neither of which had ever been discussed independently in this forum before, let alone taken the top spots. Greater state funding will almost certainly follow—far more than the $5 billion to $6 billion spent on Made in China 2025. And for the first time, China’s drive for technological self-sufficiency is being matched by private-sector efforts, thanks to U.S. trade restrictions.

China’s entrepreneurial companies have sometimes benefited from the state’s largess and protection, but they have also worked to keep the state at arm’s length. In order to be truly competitive globally, firms such as Huawei and Alibaba have decided that they need to use the best components on the market, many of which are American made. China’s leading tech companies rely on U.S. technologies to sell some of the best smartphones, computers, and Internet services in the world. A Huawei phone, for example, has a Chinese-designed processor but otherwise uses American hardware in quantities comparable to the iPhone. If Huawei had followed the government’s directives to buy domestic, it would not have become the behemoth it is today, nor would it be suffering so deeply from U.S. trade restrictions.

Leading entrepreneurial firms can no longer ignore the state’s commands to source products domestically, however. Enhanced U.S. export-control measures have made that decision for them and united China’s government and its leading firms in a shared goal: to pursue technological and industrial self-sufficiency so that no Chinese firm is at the mercy of U.S. trade policies. By imposing restrictions on American products, the U.S. government has inadvertently done more than any party directive to incentivize private investment in China’s domestic technology ecosystem.

Washington is right to target Chinese firms that are obvious military actors or complicit in human rights abuses. But the sweeping nature of the Trump administration’s sanctions did not suggest a careful selection process. Rather, they gave the impression that the United States would punish any Chinese company that achieved success. Chinese firms are no longer sure if they can depend on U.S. products—or if they will be added to another opaque government blacklist and face potential collapse. U.S. export controls have already encouraged other foreign firms to exploit anxieties around U.S. sanctions by marketing themselves as more reliable vendors. And they have created a perverse incentive for some American firms to move production overseas in order to maintain access to China’s enormous market.

U.S. sanctions against Chinese technology companies have deeply offended many in China, especially given their perceived arbitrary criteria and severe effects. Many engineers at top companies such as ByteDance, DJI, and Huawei have studied and worked in the United States and were bewildered by claims that their work constituted a threat to U.S. national security. Chinese officials scratched their heads when the Pentagon declared that the Chinese electronics firm Xiaomi had ties to the military; some joked that Xiaomi was in American crosshairs because the company’s founder, Lei Jun, contained the character for “soldier” in his name. Now that Huawei’s phones are difficult to find in stock, every consumer in China knows that U.S. restrictions have started to bite. It is not unusual, these days, to see people on the Beijing subway watching video explanations of the semiconductor supply chain.

THIS TIME IS DIFFERENT

China’s true Sputnik moment has been its realization that it cannot count on the United States to supply its technology—and that it must cultivate domestic alternatives. Washington bristled at Beijing’s ambitions for semiconductor self-sufficiency and then proceeded to punish Chinese companies naive enough to depend on American technologies. U.S. companies are now facing uncomfortable questions on whether they can be counted on to be reliable suppliers. For all the complaints about Xi’s efforts to drive “offensive decoupling,” it is the United States, not China, that is forcing Chinese firms to abandon American products—and now these companies are pursuing domestic self-sufficiency with a vengeance.

The combined efforts of China’s state drive and its innovative industry will accelerate the country’s technological advancement. In the 1960s, integrated circuits were developed when the National Aeronautics and Space Administration was willing to pay any price for technology that could send astronauts to the moon and bring them safely back. Today, the U.S. government is putting Huawei in NASA’s position: a cash-rich organization willing to pay for critical components on the basis of performance rather than cost. Smaller Chinese companies that previously never stood a chance of selling to Huawei are now sought after as vendors, and they receive infusions of cash and technical expertise that will accelerate their growth. Private and state-owned chip manufacturers are ramping up their operations. Once siloed industries now collaborate in the service of tech innovation: the Chinese Academy of Sciences, for example, has begun coordinating regular sessions that bring together math professors and private companies. China is now undertaking a whole-of-society effort to improve domestic technology, specifically around what Chinese leaders think will drive not only economic growth but also geopolitical power.

Is all of this enough to make Chinese industrial policy work this time around? It is likely that in a decade, China will have made greater technological advancements under the U.S. export-control regime than it would have had the United States not forced China’s leading companies to buy from weak domestic firms. Had the United States implemented necessary but measured reforms—strengthening the Committee on Foreign Investment in the United States and prosecuting intellectual property theft—and stopped there, Made in China 2025 would have likely played out in the usual way, with inefficient state-owned enterprises and government ministries taking the lead rather than innovative tech firms.

But this time is different. True, China has big technological hurdles to overcome, including weak basic research, ambiguous intellectual property protections, and excessive bureaucratic meddling. Yet the United States cannot assume that China’s leading firms will stay down forever: companies are rushing to fill the demand that U.S. firms can no longer supply. Chinese firms have to reinvent only certain wheels, with many simply working to recreate technologies that already exist. And no U.S. restriction can change the fact that China is an enormous market loaded with entrepreneurial talent and technical expertise.

The ripple effects of Chinese technological success will be felt beyond China. For one thing, they will shape American politics. A Beijing less dependent on U.S. products will feel less apprehensive about retaliating against American firms, giving it license to respond to perceived affronts. For another thing, technological dominance will shift the Chinese leadership’s calculations on Taiwan. Beijing knows that any armed invasion of the island would prompt U.S. sanctions that could inflict great pain on the Chinese economy. Greater self-reliance would deflate the threat of those sanctions and remove a deterrent against military action.

The economic consequences of Chinese technological dominance on the United States would be no less significant. For the most part, U.S. technology firms have stayed a few steps ahead of their Chinese competition. But they might fall back as their sales dip and as Beijing launches a more powerful drive to replace them. If China comes to dominate semiconductor production in the way it has dominated solar panels, then the United States will have lost its last crown jewel in manufacturing as the products become commoditized and profits disappear.

At this point, no effort on behalf of the U.S. government can deter China’s state from its end goal of industrial self-sufficiency. But Washington can still change the calculations of private Chinese tech companies. Many of these businesses would rather not have to reinvent their tools and find new suppliers and would likely stick with U.S. technologies if given the chance. The United States should therefore roll back its most punitive restrictions on the Chinese technology sector, lest it force some of the most innovative companies in the world to work within their domestic tech ecosystem. At stake is the future global center of technological innovation: Washington should know better than to fuel its greatest competitor.

Thursday, July 29, 2021

BM Güvenlik Konseyi, Kıbrıs ve Kapalı Maraş

 

BM Güvenlik Konseyi, Kıbrıs ve Kapalı Maraş

Em. Büyükelçi Tugay Uluçevik

28 Temmuz 2021


KKTC’deki kapalı Maraş, Kıbrıs uyuşmazlığının geneli içinde, ama sanki ayrı bir konuymuş gibi, 1977 Ağustos ayından bu yana Güvenlik Konseyi’nin takibinde olagelmiştir.

BM zemininde Maraş konusu, Kıbrıs konusunun esasının yaratabildiği boyut ve ölçüde tepkiye sebep olabilmektedir.

Maraş (Varosha) sorun olarak BMGK’de gündeme gelmesi ve Türkiye’yi meşgul etmesi Barış Harekâtımız çerçevesinde yapılmış bir uygulama ve orada yaratılmış olan “status quo” sonucudur.

KKTC’nin Magosa ilçesinin bir parçası olan Maraş’ın kordon altına alınması; daha sonraları buranın BM yönetiminde eski sahiplerinin yerleşimine açılması konusunun, Ada’da taraflar arasında karşılıklı güvenin yaratılması amacına yönelik tedbirler çerçevesine dahil edilmesi, Rum tarafında bu yerin kendilerine iade edileceği ümidini ve beklentisini yaratmıştır.

Magosa ve Maraş Stratejik Konumda

Kıbrıs uyuşmazlığını “iki kesimli” federal kapsamlı çözüme ulaştırmayı amaçlayan müzakere döneminde Rum tarafının toprak konusunda masaya koyduğu haritalarda, iki kesimli değil, KKTC topraklarında 3 ayrı mevkii (Magosa’da kapalı Maraş’ı içine alan bir mevki; Yeni İskele’nin bir bölümü -Trikomo- ve Karpaz  yarımadasının kuzeydoğu bölgesi) GKRY topraklarına dahil eden düzenleme öngörülmüştür. Yani Rumlar, iki kesimli bir çözüm çerçevesinde KKTC topraklarını daimî olarak kontrol altında tutabilecek gözleme noktaları elde etme peşinde olmuşlardır.

Bugün de KKTC Hükûmeti’nin kapalı Maraş’ı KKTC egemenliği altında yerleşime açma hamlesine karşı Rum tarafının gösterdiği aşırı tepkinin ana sebebi budur. Uluslararası  aktörlerin de Rumlardan yana  ortaya koydukları tepki büyük ölçüde aynı sebepten kaynaklanmaktadır. Hâkim düşünce stratejik Magosa Limanı’nın  kontrol altında tutulmasıdır.

Maraş Konusunun BMGK’nin Gündemine Girişi

Maraş konusu BM Güvenlik Konseyi’nin gündemine 1977 Temmuz ayında girdi. Ankara’da görevden istifa etmiş olan Başbakan Bülent Ecevit Barış Harekâtı’nın 3. yıldönümünde “Maraş’taki turistik tesislerin işletmeye açılmaması yüzünden, dünyada, bu bölgenin ödün için saklandığı izleniminin uyandığını; Maraş’taki tesislerin açılması için çalışmalar yapıldığını, ilk aşamada bir otelcilik okulu kurulması çalışmalarının başladığını” söyledi. Aynı mealde bir demeci törenler için Lefkoşe’de bulunan Dışişleri Bakanı Turan Güneş de verdi.

BMGK’nin Münhasıran Maraş Hakkındaki İlk Toplantısı

Rumlar BMGK’ne başvurdular. Toplantı istediler. Konsey 31 Ağustos – 15 Eylül arasında toplantı yaptı. Münhasıran Maraş konusunun ele alındığı toplantılarda KTFD ve Türkiye “Maraş’ın yerleşime açılması düşüncesinin olmadığını” beyan ettiler.

BMGK 414 sayılı Kararı kabul etti. Bu kararında BMGK, başlıca, yeni Magosa bölgesinde (Maraş) bir yerleşime açma sürecinin bulunmadığını not etti. İlgili taraflardan, Kıbrıs’ın herhangi bir yerinde âdil ve barışçı çözüm ihtimaline ters etki yapabilecek tek taraflı girişimlerden kaçınmalarını istedi.

Maraş’a Atıf Yapan Diğer BMGK Kararları

Daha sonraki yıllarda, Maraş konusuna BMGK’nin Kıbrıs uyuşmazlığının özüne ilişkin başlıca 3 ayrı kararında ( Mayıs 1984, 550; Kasım 1982, 789 ve  Temmuz 2019, 2483 yer verildi.

550 sayılı Kararda, “Maraş’ın herhangi bir bölümüne oranın sakinlerinden başkalarının yerleştirilmesi teşebbüslerinin kabul edilemez olduğu” vurgulandı. Ayrıca Maraş’ın BM idaresine devredilmesi istendi.

789 saylı Kararda, 550 sayılı Karar’ın uygulanması maksadıyla “Magosa’daki BM Barış Gücü’nün kontrolü altındaki alanın Maraş’ı da içine alacak şekilde genişletilmesi” öngörüldü.

2483 sayılı Kararda, Maraş’ın önceki Karalarla belirlenmiş olan Maraş’ın statüsünün korunması gerektiği hatırlatıldı.

BMGK’nin Münhasıran Maraş Hakkındaki 2. ve 3. Toplantıları

Yukarıda işaret edildiği üzere, BMGK’nin Rumların talebi üzerine münhasıran Maraş konusunda yapılan toplantısının ilki 1977 yılında olmuştu. Özellikle Maraş konusundaki gelişmelerle ilgili olarak son 44 yıl içinde cereyan etmiş olan BMGK toplantılarının ikincisi Ekim 2020’de, üçüncüsü de birkaç gün önce 22 Temmuz 2021 günü cereyan etti.

Bu iki toplantıda Konsey, konu hakkındaki düşüncesini, tutumunu ve taleplerini Karar (resolution) şeklinde değil, Konsey Başkanı’nın “Açıklaması” şeklinde yaptı.

İkinci Toplantı ve Başkanlık Açıklaması

Ekim 2020 Başkanlık Açıklaması’nda Maraş’ın 550 ve 789 saylı kararlarla belirlenen statüsü teyit edildi. Maraş’ta bu kararlara ters düşen herhangi bir eylem yapılmaması talep edildi. Maraş’ın kıyı şeridinin açılacağına dair 6 Ekim 2020 günü Ankara’da yapılan duyuru hakkında “derin endişe” (deep concern) dile getirildi. Bu hareket tarzından vazgeçilmesi istendi.

Ayrıca, Kıbrıs uyuşmazlığının kapsamlı çözüm şekline de değinilerek, BMGK Kararlarında belirtilmiş olan çerçevede iki toplumlu, iki kesimli federal çözüm yönünde tarafların diyalog halinde bulunması öngörüldü.

Son Gelişmeler

47. yıldönümü münasebetiyle CB Tatar ve CB Erdoğan tarafından Maraş konusunda Lefkoşe’de verilen kararlılık mesajlarına, BMGS’den ve Çin hariç (Çin BM’de sürekli olarak GKRY’ni destekler), BMGK’nin Daimî üyelerinden ayrı ayrı tepki açıklamaları geldi.

BMGS’nin Açıklaması

BMGS adına yapılan açıklamada, “BMGS, 20 Temmuz'da Kıbrıslı Türkler ve Türkiye tarafından çitle çevrili Maraş kentinin yeniden açılmasına dair açıklamalardan derin endişe duymaktadır. BMGS, tüm tarafları, gerilimi tahrik eden ve tarafların Kıbrıs sorununun kalıcı çözümüne yönelik ortak zemin arama çabalarını tehlikeye atabilecek mahiyetteki tek taraflı eylemlerden kaçınmaya defalarca davet etmiş bulunmaktadır” denildi.

ABD’nin Açıklaması

ABD Dışişleri Bakanı Blinken bizzat açıklama yaptı. BMGK’nin Kıbrıs konusundaki Kararlarında sadece bir kere (550 sayılı Karar. Ancak Maraş için değil, genel çerçevede bir ifadedir) geçen “condemn” (kınama, mahkûm etme) sözcüğünü kullandı. Diplomasi uygulamalarının en ağır deyimlerinden olan “condemn”, hakkında kullanıldığı olay, tutum, davranış ve muhatap alınan Devlet ile ilgili olarak “sert tepki, yaptırım, ceza” iması taşır.

Blinken, açıklamasında, ayrıca Kıbrıs uyuşmazlığının çözüm şekli hakkında  GKRY’nin açıkladığı görüşlere uygun ifadeler kullandı. Ada’nın Kıbrıslılar tarafından  iki kesimli, iki toplumlu bir federasyon olarak yeniden birleştirilerek kapsamlı çözüme ulaşılması çağrısı yaptı.

Rusya’nın Açıklaması

Rusya Dışişleri Sözcüsü hem Maraş hem uyuşmazlığın esası hakkında GKRY’nin tutumuna destek veren ifadeler kullandı.

Garantör İngiltere’nin Dışişleri Bakanı Raab “Maraş’ın kısmî açılmasına” dair CB Erdoğan’ın açıklamasından “İngiltere’nin derin endişe (deeply concerned) duyduğunu” dile getirdi. Yapılan açıklamaların “Kıbrıs çözüm süreci” için risk oluşturduğunu iddia etti. Durumu “BMGK üyeleri ile istişare ettiklerini” ekledi.

Fransa’nın Açıklaması

Fransa Dışişleri Bakanlığı’nın açıklamasında da Maraş’ın açılmasına dair “tahrik oluşturan beyanları ve başlatılan hareketi Fransa’nın derin esefle karşıladığı” ifade edildi. Bu tutum "Kıbrıs sorununun adil ve kalıcı çözümü yönünde müzakerelerin acilen yeniden başlatılması için gerekli olan güvenin yeniden tesis edilmesine zarar veriyor” denildi.

BMGK’nin Münhasıran Maraş Konusundaki 3. Toplantısı

Yapılan bu açıklamalarla, esasen BMGK’nin konu hakkında benimseyeceği görüşün  ve takınacağı tutumun çerçevesi ve unsurları belirlenmiş oldu.

BMGK 23 Temmuz sabahı Temmuz ayı Başkanı Fransa’nın Başkanlığında sadece bir dakika süren bir toplantı yaptı. Konsey’e İngiltere tarafından sunulan ve üyeler arasındaki istişarelerle üzerinde görüş birliğine (konsensüs) varılmış olan metin, BMGK “Başkanı’nın Açıklaması” olarak benimsendi.

BMGK Başkanlık Açıklaması

Başkanlık Açıklamasında “BMGK, 20 Temmuz'da Türk ve Kıbrıslı Türk liderlerin Kıbrıs'ta çitle çevrili Maraş bölgesinin bir bölümünün yeniden açılmasına ilişkin açıklamasını kınamaktadır (condemn). Bu eylem plânının ve Ekim 2020'den beri Maraş'ta atılan tüm adımların geri alınması çağrısında bulunmaktadır” denildi.

BMGK Başkanlık Açıklamasında, devamla, “Konsey, Maraş'ın Birleşmiş Milletler yönetimine devredilmesi ve Birleşmiş Milletler Kıbrıs Barış Gücü'nün (UNFICYP) hareket özgürlüğüne saygı gösterilmesi de dahil olmak üzere, BMGK kararlarına tam saygı gösterilmesinin ve bunların uygulanmasının önemini vurgulamaya devam etmektedir” ifadelerine yer verildi.

Başkanlık Açıklamasında, ayrıca, BMGK’nin Kıbrıs uyuşmazlığının çözüm şekline ilişkin olarak bilinen pozisyonunu “Konsey, ilgili Kararlarında belirtildiği gibi, Kıbrıs halkının istekleri doğrultusunda, siyasi eşitlik esasına göre iki toplumlu, iki kesimli (bizonal) bir federasyona dayalı olarak kalıcı, kapsamlı ve adil bir çözüme olan bağlılığını bir kez daha teyit etmektedir” şeklinde vurguladı.

Görüleceği üzere, BMGK hem Kıbrıs uyuşmazlığının çözüm şekli, hem Maraş konusunda açıkça GKRY’nin yanında yer almış bulunmaktadır.

BMGK Üyeleri Gerçekleri Hatırlamak İstemiyor

Konsey bu tutumu takınırken, bugün taraflardan kabul etmelerini istediği çözüm şeklini on yıllar boyunca Kıbrıs Türk tarafının ve Türkiye’nin desteklediği; içinde, Referandum aşamasına kadar gelmiş ve iki ayrı halk tarafından oylanmış ve Türk tarafı kabul ederken Rum tarafının büyük çoğunlukla reddettiği  ANNAN Plânı süreci de dahil olmak, birçok çözüm sürecini Rumların baltaladığı; esasen Kıbrıs sorununu yaratan tarafın da Yunanistan ve Kıbrıslı Rumlar olduğu  tarihî olgularını ve gerçeklerini hatırlamaktan  tarih önünde âciz kalmaktadır. Bu akıl almaz tutumun bizatihî Kıbrıs uyuşmazlığının, mahiyetinin, gerçeklerinin ve boyutlarının çok ötesinde, doğrudan Türkiye’yi hedef alan saiklerle, niyetlerle ve sebeplerle takınılmakta olduğunu, maalesef düşünmekten kendimi alamıyorum.

BMGK’nin Şimdiki Üyeleri

BMGK halen bilinen 5 Daimî üyenin ( ABD, İngiltere, Fransa, Rusya ve Çin) yanında, Estonya, Hindistan, İrlanda, Kenya, Meksika, Nijer, Norveç, Saint Vincent ve Grenadine, Tunus ve Vietnam.

Dışişleri Bakanlığımızın gereğini yapmakta olduğuna inanmakla beraber, BMGK’nin Kıbrıs konusunda Türkiye’ye karşı sergilemekte olduğu bu haksız tutumlar hakkındaki duygu ve düşüncelerimizin Konsey üyesi devletlere, özellikle, 10 geçici üye  devletlere gereken şekil ve ölçüde açıklıkla ifade edilmesinin gerekli olduğunu düşündüğümü ifade etmek istiyorum.

Çok Taraflı Forumlar İkili İlişkilerin Aynası

Bununla beraber, bir devletin uluslararası çok taraflı forumlardaki konumunun, elde ettiği sonuçların, esas itibariyle dış ilişkilerinin ikili plândaki tablosunun bir yansıması olduğu gerçeğini de dikkate almamız gerekmektedir.

Halen BMGK üyesi olan Tunus ve Nijer, aynı zamanda İslâm İşbirliği Teşkilâtı üyesidirler.

Tunus Kıbrıs uyuşmazlığının çeşitli aşamalarında, özellikle BM Genel Kurul oylamalarında Türkiye aleyhinde açıkça tutum almış bir Devlet değildir. Oylamalarda genellikle çekinser kalmıştır.

Kıbrıs konusunun Güvenlik Konseyi’nde ele alındığı bu günlerde Tunus’un içişlerinde meydana gelen gelişmeler karşısında Türkiye’de yapıldığını izlediğim açıklamalar dikkatimi çekmiştir.

BMGK Kararı ve Başkanlık Açıklaması Aynı Ağırlıkta

Ülkemizde çeşitli çevrelerde, BMGK’nin kararı ile başkanlık açıklaması arasında hiyerarşi bakımından, siyasî ve hukukî sonuç ve etki itibariyle fark bulunduğu kanaatinin varlığını seziyorum. Kararın, başkanlık açıklamasına nazaran ağırlık taşıdığı kanaatinin  hâkim olduğunu sanıyorum.

Konu hakkında şu açıklamayı yapabilirim:

BMGK’nin gündemindeki bir konu hakkındaki görüşlerini, taleplerini, pozisyonunu, iradesini açıklamak için kullandığı araçlar şunlardır: 

Karar (resolution), Başkan’ın Açıklaması (Statement by the President), Başkan’ın Notu (Note by the President), Başkan’ın Mektubu, Tezkeresi (Letter from the President), Basın Açıklaması (Press Statement).

BM uygulaması bakımından BMGK Kararı (resolution) ile BMGK Başkanı’nın Açıklaması arasında siyasî, hukukî sonuçları, bağlayıcılıkları, uygulanma mecburiyetleri bakımından  fark yoktur. Her ikisi de BMGK’nin iradesini bildiren  BM’nin resmî belgesidir. BMGK’nin resmi aleni toplantısında kabul edilirler. 5 resmî dilde yayınlanırlar. BM’nin yıllık belge külliyatında yer alırlar. Karar (resolution) BM Yasası’nda ve BMGK’nin İç Tüzüğü’nde öngörülen kurallara göre resmî toplantıda oylama veya üyeler arasında mevcutsa oydaşma (konsensüs) ile kabul edilir. Başkanlık Açıklaması BMGK üyeleri arasında yapılan istişare toplantısında oydaşma (konsensüs) ile ortaya çıkar ve resmî toplantıda oylama yapılmadan kabul edilir. İki belgenin  taşıdığı rumuzlar farklıdır.

BMGK UNFICYP Konusunda Yeniden Toplanıyor

BMGK 29 Temmuz Perşembe günü yeniden Kıbrıs konusunda, bu defa Kıbrıs’taki BM Barış Gücü’nün (UNFICYP) görev süresinin uzatılması konusunda toplanacaktır. BMGK bu konudaki iradesini 57 yıldan bu yana Karar (resolution) ile kabul etmiştir.

UNFICYP’in görev süresinin uzatılmasına ilişkin olarak yapılan BMGK toplantısında, görev süresine ilişkin kararının yanında, uyuşmazlığın özü ve BMGS’nin  “iyi niyet görevi” (good offices mission)  hakkında da  hükümler yer almaktadır. Önümüzdeki toplantıda kabul edilecek Kararın KKTC’ni ve Türkiye’yi “egemen eşitlik, iki devletli çözüm” hedefinden ve Maraş’ın açılmasına ilişkin adımlardan vazgeçirmek maksadıyla sert ifadeli zorlayıcı hükümler taşıması beklenir.

KKTC’nin ve Türkiye’nin Kararlılığı Sınanıyor

Önümüzdeki toplantı, KKTC’nin ve Türkiye’nin açıkladığı çözüm pozisyonundaki ve Maraş hakkındaki kararlılığı bakımından, kanaatimce bir sınama mahiyetindedir.

Çünkü, UNFICYP BMGK’nin GKRY’ni, Kıbrıs’ın, Kıbrıs Türk halkını da temsil eden meşru Hükûmeti sayan ve UNFICYP’i bu sözde “Hükûmet’in” rızasına bağlayan 4 Mart 1964 tarihli ve 186 sayılı kararı uyarınca kurulmuş ve görev yapagelmiştir. Bu Kararı Türk tarafının reddetmekte olduğu bilinmektedir. Bu Kararın “egemen eşitlik, iki devletli çözüm” hedefimizle taban tabana zıt olduğu ortadadır.

Sonuç

BMGS’nin son Kıbrıs raporunda yer alan GKRY’nin bildiriminde şu ifade bir şerh olarak yer almaktadır:

(Bildirimde) “toplumlara yapılan referanslar BM’nin bir üyesi olarak Kıbrıs Cumhuriyeti'ne halel getirmez; UNFICYP’e yapılan atıflar Kıbrıs Cumhuriyeti’nin Kuvvet için  ev sahibi ülke statüsüne halel getirmez.”

Bu şerhi, son gelişmeler ışığında, sırtlarını BMGK’nın Daimî üyelerine dayayarak Türk tarafına bir böbürlenme ve hattâ bir meydan okuma olarak değerlendiriyorum.

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