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Showing posts with label Huawei. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Huawei. Show all posts

Friday, 18 December 2020

UK and China: how the love affair faded

Patrick Wintour in The Guardian

In 2003, the Cabinet Office decided to allow the Chinese state-backed Huawei telecommunications network to start supplying BT for the first time. Nobody bothered to put a note on the security implications into the red box of the then business secretary, Patrica Hewitt. A minor discussion, solely on the competition implications, did take place.

The then head of MI6, Sir Richard Dearlove, used to daily cooperation with BT to secure wire taps, was shocked and concerned when he heard of the plan, but was told: “It is nothing to do with you. These are issues we can control.”

The path was set fair for the open trading relationship with China which reached its zenith with George Osborne and David Cameron in 2015. “No economy in the world is as open to Chinese investment as the UK,” Osborne boasted on a five-day visit to China in September of that year. In a speech to the Shanghai stock exchange, he vowed London would act as China’s bridge to European financial markets. “Whatever the headlines … we shouldn’t be running away from China,” he said. “Through the ups and downs, let’s stick together.”

David Cameron and George Osborne visit the Forbidden City in Beijing in 2015. Photograph: Andrew Parsons/Press Association


Osborne knew he was taking a risky bet and Britain, against vehement US objections, joined the Asian Infrastructure Investment Bank.

UK trade with China is worth approximately £7bn, making it Britain’s’s fourth-largest trading partner, the sixth-largest export market and the third-largest import market. By comparison, in 1999 China was the UK’s 26th largest export market and 15th largest source of imports.

But Britain is now veering away from China, despite Osborne’s pledge. It has moved from being China’s greatest advocate in Europe, a wide open door for Chinese investment, into one of its sternest critics. Overall, it represents as swift and complete a reversal in foreign policy as the UK’s shift from treating Russia as an ally in 1945 to cold war foe in 1946.

Yet how this course correction happened, the extent to which it was internally driven, or imposed on the UK by the Trump administration, and whether its limits has been finally set remains largely unresolved.


People walking past the Huawei logo during the Consumer Electronics Expo in Beijing. Photograph: Fred Dufour/AFP/Getty Images

In the last fortnight alone two major government bills have been published, one aimed primarily at screening out Chinese investment from 17 UK strategic industries, and another cutting Huawei out of the UK telecommunications network entirely from 2027. This reverses the decision taken, in defiance of the US, at the start of the year to give Huawei limited access.

A third bill, in front of the Lords, has been amended in an attempt to prevent any UK trade deals with China if its human rights record is found wanting.

The government’s integrated foreign and security policy review, due in the new year, will contain a British tilt to the Indo-Pacific, shorthand for greater political and military support for the forces of democracy in the South China Sea.

On the Tory benches, the intellectual commanding heights are now dominated by China critics, so much so, it is argued, that Sino-scepticism is the New Euro-scepticism. There is probably no more active group of parliamentarians than the Tory China Research Group, only set up in January. The group, established by Tom Tugendhat, the foreign affairs select committee chairman, and Neil O’Brien, now head of the Conservative policy board, were instrumental in March in mounting the rebellion of 40 MPs who pushed to have Huawei excluded.

Across the Tory thinktanks that matter – Policy Exchange, the Legatum Institute, Henry Jackson Society, – hostility to the Chinese Communist party is unanimous.

China footage reveals hundreds of blindfolded and shackled prisoners. Photograph: youtube

Labour, committed to human rights, takes a similar view. It is a British human rights barrister, Rodney Dixon, who is leading the claim that China can be taken to the international criminal court over its treatment of Uighur Muslims. Hong Kong Watch is one of the most active pressure groups defending the steady stream of jailed activists. The UK has become a safe harbour for the exiles, and nearly 60,000 British National (Overseas) passports were handed out to Hong Kongers in September alone.

By contrast the business lobbies, especially finance capital that previously worked assiduously to secure deals with China, have fallen silent, or found themselves struggling for a hearing. British board members on Huawei such as Lord John Browne have resigned. Other former advocates for Huawei such as Alexander Downer, the former Australian high commissioner to London, have long converted, urging the UK to engage with the geopolitical threat posed by China, and “not just see the country as a place to sell Land Rovers and Jaguars”.

Huawei’s own warnings about the potential cost to the UK economy of delaying 5G are ignored.

It can be argued, as Keynes did, that when the facts change, it is advisable to change your mind. The destruction of Hong Kong’s freedoms, China’s secretive mishandling of the coronavirus outbreak, its wolf warrior diplomacy, the revelations about treatment of the Uighur people, the wholesale theft of intellectual property, and the bullying of one of the UK’s natural partners, Australia, has ended illusions about China. In July, the former head of M16 Sir John Sawers wrote that the last six months have “revealed more about China under President Xi Jinping than the previous six years”.

Rory Stewart, the former Foreign Office minister, says: “China has broken a lot of our beliefs about how we thought about things for 200 years. For 200 years there seemed to be a connection between economic growth and liberal democracy. Many, many people thought 20 years ago it was almost inevitable China would move in a liberal, democratic way. Today we are in a much more gloomy place.”

China’s entry into the WTO in December 2001 proved not to be the prelude to the country opening up, but instead a high-water mark.

But these views are now being wrapped into an ideological perception of China as an imperialist power intent on dominating the west technologically, politically and militarily, a view enshrined in a 70-page US state department policy paper entitled Elements of the China Challenge published this month. The paper argues the west utterly misconstrued China as a fledgling economic super power with no imperial ambitions, when in reality “it is determined fundamentally to revise the world order, placing the People’s Republic of China at the centre and serving Beijing’s authoritarian goals and hegemonic ambitions”.
Riot police detain a man as they clear protesters taking part in a rally against the national security law in Hong Kong in July. Photograph: Dale de la Rey/AFP/Getty Images

In a lecture given to Policy Exchange, Matthew Pottinger, Donald Trump’s chief adviser on China, drew a sinister portrait. “The party’s overseas propaganda has two consistent themes: ‘We own the future, so make your adjustments now.’ And: ‘We’re just like you, so try not to worry.’ Together, these assertions form the elaborate con at the heart of all Leninist movements.”

It is this kind of thinking deep in the Trump administration that led to the remorseless commercial and political pressure on the UK this summer to change its mind over Huawei.

There are distinctions between the America and British process of disillusionment, according to Sophie Gaston at the British Foreign Policy Group. The US came at the China issue via trade and the loss of manufacturing jobs while the UK came at it primarily through the lens of human rights and national security. But the two views have now blended into a melange of concern about human rights, the race for quantum supremacy and protection of the national infrastructure ranging from power stations to university freedom.

For Martin Jacques, the former British editor of Marxism Today and enthusiastic chronicler of China’s rise, the UK has been gripped by a form of paranoia – reds under the bed replaced by reds under the hard drive. “What’s happening is a very serious regression in the mentality in the UK toward China. It reminds me very much of the cold war. In fact, the thinking is cold war thinking: China is just the evil enemy that has to be rejected. The rightwing reduces China to the communist regime, the communist threat, and the whole Chinese history is lost in the process. So they have no understanding whatsoever of China really. They’ve just got this extraordinary backward view of China, which is just, frankly, plain ignorant. But it’s making the running.”

Another surprising figure despairing at the trend is Vince Cable. The Liberal Democrat was business secretary in the Osborne era and bemoans “the unholy alliance” of Trumpists, neocons, British Conservatives and Labour opposition who, he says, are blowing apart the government’s post-Brexit strategy to invest in China.

But Dearlove kicks back, arguing there is something sinister about China’s methods. He cites three Chinese maxims. “Kill with a borrowed sword – that is, get what you can. Loot a burning house – bear that in mind in terms of taking advantage of the current pandemic. The third one is hide a knife behind a smile.”
Xi Jinping waits to greet Theresa May in Beijing in 2018. Photograph: Bloomberg/Getty Images

China, he says, assembled an influence network in the UK. It “recruited a whole group of leading British business and political figures into that group who were designated cheerleaders for a burgeoning relationship with China. Huawei was an important part of that. The composition – the British membership of the Huawei board – was a very impressive lineup of people who were there to persuade us to drop our guard.”

Quite how far the UK, mired in recession, will go in specific policy terms to distance itself from China, and how China reacts, is in question. The China Research Group in its recent manifesto stops short of Trumpian decoupling of the west from China’s economy, but backs measures including sanctions on UK finance houses operating in Hong Kong that extend the reach of the Communist party, a ban on Chinese state-owned enterprises investing in UK critical infrastructure and a ban on UK firms exporting goods and services that are used to abuse human rights. Tariffs are mentioned only as a last resort.

Some of this is enough to make Lord Grimstone, the former head of Standard Chartered and now a trade minister, blanch. The new China-Britain Business Council chair, and head of public affairs at HSBC, Sir Sherard Cowper-Coles, has also been leading a discreet fightback, pointing out that after Brexit, Britain needs to insert itself into the Asian-Pacific growth area. China, after all, is the economy taking the world out of recession.

So far, the British elite have managed to keep the Liu Xiaoming, the Chinese ambassador, onside. Despite smarting from the Huawei 5G ban, he has not descended into the name-calling disfiguring Chinese relations with Australia. He has not, for instance, like his colleague in Canberra, sent a 14-point checklist of mistakes that the UK must correct.

Instead, he spoke last month to the third China-UK Economic Forum about the continued chances for synergy with UK business. Ahead of the forum, a survey showed continued Chinese enthusiasm to invest in the UK, despite a fall-back in investment due to coronavirus.

The Foreign Office is clearly nervous of being cast in a vanguard role, while Japan and Germany, for instance, allow Huawei into its 5G networks. The UK has not yet sanctioned anyone over Hong Kong, only provided safe haven. The Trump administration by contrast has sanctioned 14 Chinese officials specifically over Hong Kong, including the chief executive, Carrie Lamb.

Britain will also be cautious because it does not want to be left beached on the high tide of Trumpian anti-Chinese rhetoric only to find that tide went out with Joe Biden’s election. Biden is, at a minimum, likely to take a less aggressive unilateral sanctions-based approach to trade, and it is not yet clear if his planned alliance of democratic nations will be explicitly anti-Chinese.

If the Biden administration is interested in re-stabilising the US-China relationship, the UK is likely to want to be in the slipstream of this process, probably using the climate change agenda as the way back in.

After all, the advocates of pragmatic British engagement have not gone away, just gone quiet.

Lord Powell, a former chairman of the China-Britain Business Council and private secretary to Margaret Thatcher, put it succinctly in a lecture last year. He explained: “I have to admit when visiting China, as a I frequently do, I never get the sense that parliamentary democracy is anything like the highest priority for most people. At least at this stage in the country’s development, their priority is material progress, even if it comes at the price of freedom.”

He added: “I know pragmatism is a dirty word in any discussion of ethical values but when the other guy – in this case China – indisputably has the stronger hand, it is prudent not to provoke unwinnable fights.”

Wednesday, 16 December 2020

Does the WTO help a poor nation become rich? Economic History in Small Doses 4

 Girish Menon*


Today, when we look at the world that we live in, we find that Huawei (a Chinese technology company) is being subjected to a systematic campaign of defamation and discrimination among the US led group of developed countries. And the WTO watches on helplessly. Yet, in its “WhatWe Stand For” page the WTO (The World Trade Organisation) states it’s first principle as:

Non-discrimination

A country should not discriminate between its trading partners and it should not discriminate between its own and foreign products, services or nationals.

The question this article attempts to explore is whether the WTO’s purpose is compatible with the desire of developing countries to join the ranks of the developed world.

 Let’s start with India and it’s Hindustan Motors (HM) company. Today HM’s cars are as ubiquitous as the dodo. Till the early 1990s it was so popular that it even enabled G D Birla to get a seat in heaven**. Ever since the Narasimha Rao government was forced to open up the Indian economy, after the economic crisis of the late1980s, HM has entered the books of Indian corporate history. The Indian government failed to protect HM because of the non-discrimination clause of the WTO and today there is no Indian car manufacturer visible on the horizon while her roads are choked with foreign brands.

The globalisation rhetoric dictates that countries stick to what they are already good at (theory of comparative advantage). Stated bluntly, this means that poor countries are supposed to continue with their current engagement in low-productivity activities. But their engagement in those activities is exactly what makes them poor. If they wish to leave poverty behind they have do the more difficult things that bring them higher incomes. And the WTO’s non-discrimination principle stops them from improving their earning capabilities.

 Today Toyota is the leading global brand in car manufacturing. It took Toyota more than 30 years of protection and subsidies to become competitive at the lower end of the car market. It was a good 60 years before it became one of the leading car makers in the world. It took nearly 100 years from the days of Henry VII for Britain to catch up with the Low Countries in woollen manufacturing. It took the US 130 years to develop its economy enough to feel confident about doing away with tariffs. Without such long time horizons, Japan might still be mainly exporting silk, Britain wool and the US cotton.

Unfortunately, poor countries are not allowed to adopt such time frames for developing their industries. The non-discrimination clause of the WTO demands that poor countries compete immediately with more advanced foreign producers, leading to the demise of their domestic firms before they can acquire new capabilities.

Like any other investment, investment in capability building is fraught with risk and does not guarantee success. Some countries make it and some don’t. And even the most successful countries will bungle things in certain areas.

However, economic development without investment in enhancing productive capabilities is a near impossibility.

 

* Adapted and simplified by the author from Ha Joon Chang's Bad Samaritans - The Guilty Secrets of Rich Nations & The Threat to Global Prosperity

 

** When GD Birla died his secretary tried to get him a seat in Vaikuntha. The Dwarapalaka (gatekeeper) asked the secretary to state the reason why GD should be let into heaven.

The secretary: ‘GD is one of the biggest industrialists in India’.

Dwarapalaka: ‘Usually that involves doing acts which are not acceptable here. This is Vaikuntha; not some unquestioning tax haven for moneybags! Please let me know what he has done in the name of God’

The secretary: ‘GD has established many Birla temples all over India

Dwarapalaka: ‘Birla is worshipped in these temples. Not good enough!’

The secretary: ‘GD is the owner of Hindustan Motors’

Dwarapalaka: ‘I am confused. How is that a case for entering heaven?’

The secretary: ‘Because whenever someone gets into an Ambassador car he says “Oh God” and whenever someone reaches her destination she says “Thank God”.

Dwarapalaka: That has definitely advanced the cause of God. Please ask him to come in’

This anecdote was first narrated by the late Sharu Rangnekar. It has been modified by the author.

Wednesday, 8 May 2019

Why doesn’t Britain have a Huawei of its own?

Aditya Chakrabortty in The Guardian

Chances are that you have learned rather a lot about Huawei. That the Chinese giant is one of the world’s most controversial companies. That security experts, those people we pay to be paranoid on our behalf, warn its telecoms kit could be used by Beijing to spy on us. That Theresa May was begged by cabinet colleagues to keep the firm well away from our 5G network – yet ignored them. And that one or more senior ministers were so eager to prove their concern for national security that they leaked details of their meeting, thus breaching national security.

So you can already guess what will happen when Donald Trump’s secretary of state, Mike Pompeo, meets May and her foreign secretary, Jeremy Hunt, on Wednesday. Once the pleasantries about Harry and Meghan’s baby are over, top of America’s agenda will be to warn No 10 of the threat Huawei poses to British privacy – and to restate that Washington may retaliate by freezing London out of its intelligence network.

Maybe you recall whistleblower Edward Snowden and his revelations, published in this paper, about how US surveillance services are themselves harvesting millions of people’s phone calls and internet usage. Or possibly you are too busy gasping at the haplessness with which a Conservative-run government has allowed itself to be dragged into an escalating trade war between Washington and Beijing. Many are the questions raised by this affair, but among the largest is one I have not seen asked. Namely, where is Britain’s Huawei? How does one of the world’s most advanced economies end up without any major telecoms equipment maker of its own, and having to buy the vital stuff from a company that enjoys, according to the FBI, strong links with both the Chinese Communist party and the People’s Liberation Army?
Well, the answer is that the UK did have one. It was one of the largest and most famous industrial companies in the world. And it was finally killed off within the lifetime of every person reading this article, just over a decade ago. It was called the General Electric Company, or GEC, and the story of how it came to die explains and illuminates much of the mess the country is in today.

At its height, in the early 80s, GEC was not a company at all. It was an empire comprising around 180 different firms and employing about 250,000 people. It built everything from x-ray machines to ships, and it was huge in telecoms and defence electronics. At the helm was Arnold Weinstock, who took the reins in 1963 and spent the next three decades building it into a colossus, securing his place as postwar Britain’s most renowned industrialist.

The son of Jewish Polish immigrants, Weinstock never quite slotted into his role in the British establishment. He was known to be fanatical about cost-cutting, terrible at managing people, and only really lit up by breeding racehorses and visiting Milan’s La Scala opera house. Journalists visiting his Mayfair headquarters found the carpet threadbare and the paint peeling off the walls. A correspondent for the Economist more used to convivial three-bottle lunches with captains of industry came away complaining that GEC’s guests “have never been known to receive so much as a glass of water”.

That Economist profile was headlined Lord of Dullest Virtue, which sums up how both boss and business were seen: steadily profitable yet cautious and utterly unfashionable in the Britain of the 80s, which fancied a turbocharge. Weinstock went unloved by Margaret Thatcher, who preferred the corporate-raiding asset-stripper James Hanson (or Lord Moneybags, as he was dubbed). The post-Big Bang City bankers glanced at GEC’s vast spread of unglamorous businesses, out of step in an era of specialisation, and its shy boss better suited to a Rhineland boardroom – and buried both in plump-vowelled disdain.

Perhaps the pinstriped jeering got to Weinstock. Even as he protested “we’re not a company to render excitement”, he too began indulging in the 1980s business culture of “if it moves, buy it”. Between 1988 and 1998, academics found that GEC did no fewer than 79 “major restructuring events”: buying or selling units, or setting up joint ventures. But it was after Weinstock stepped down in 1996 that all hell broke loose. His replacement was an accountant, George Simpson, who had made his name, as the Guardian sniffed, “selling Rover to the Germans”. The new finance director, John Mayo, came from the merchant-banking world detested by Weinstock. Together the two men looked at the giant cash pile salted away by their predecessor – and set about spending it, and then some.

They sold the old businesses and bought shiny new ones; they flogged off dowdy and snapped up exciting. In just one financial year, 1999-2000, they bought no fewer than 15 companies, from America to Australia. Suddenly, GEC – or Marconi, as the rump was rebranded – was beloved by the bankers, who marvelled at the commissions coming their way, and the reporters, who had headlines to write.

Then came the dotcom bust, and the new purchases went south. A company that had been trading at £12.50 a share was now worth only four pence a pop. In the mid-2000s, Marconi’s most vital client, BT, passed it over for a contract that went instead to … Huawei. Weinstock didn’t live to see the death of his beloved firm but among his last reported remarks was: “I’d like to string [Simpson and Mayo] up from a high tree and let them swing there for a long time.”

This is not a story about genius versus idiocy, let alone good against evil. Weinstock was not quite as dull as made out, nor did he avoid all errors. But it is one of the most important episodes in recent British history – because it highlights the clash between two business cultures. On the one hand is Weinstock, building an institution over decades; on the other is the frenetic wheeler-dealing of Simpson and Mayo, mesmerised by quarterly figures and handing shareholders a fast buck. The road GEC took is the one also taken by ICI and other household names. It is also the one opted for by Britain as a whole, whose political class decided it cared neither who owned our industrial giants or venerable banks or Fleet Street newspapers, nor what they did with them. That is why our capitalism is today dominated by unsavoury, get-rich-quick merchants in the Philip Green mould.

Firms such as GEC and ICI used to invest heavily in research and development, notes Sheffield University’s pro-vice-chancellor for innovation, Richard Jones. Now the UK has been overtaken in R&D by all major western competitors. Even China, a vastly poorer economy in terms of GDP per capita, is more research-intensive than the UK.

Now Britons laud businessmen such as James Dyson who make most of their stuff in Asia. As a result, we rely on the rest of the world to come here and buy our assets. And even on something as relatively simple as telecoms equipment, we can’t help but be pulled into other countries’ strategic battles.