The USA and the Chen Case
The People's Republic of China is what it is: a communist regime that opened itself to the market and, thanks to this, became the second largest economy in the world, while maintaining intact a dictatorship instituted in 1949 by the victorious revolution, under the dual control of the sole party and the armed forces. Nothing new, however, in the unrelenting persecution which, as in the former Soviet Union, targets those who dare to dissent from the totalitarian regime, seeking the right to free expression and constitutional reform that would create the conditions for democratizing the country.
The beginning of a Beijing Spring depends above all on the permanent international pressure for the safety of pro-democracy activists, with the cessation of arbitrary imprisonment and violence to which they and their families are subjected. In theory, the U.S., in the name of values inseparable from its own origin and which its leaders never cease to proclaim, should be the first to support a multilateral movement in defense of human rights in China, a movement that does not waver in the face of dependency on the free economies of the new world economic colossus.
But theory and practice are different. The Obama government is pushing forward a bold strategy of containment of Chinese military power in Asia and Oceania; although in its thousands of years of history, the Middle Kingdom has not habitually embarked on wars of conquest, preferring to assert its influence in other ways. In any case, Washington's political rhetoric on China contrasts with its discrete profile, to say the least, given the iron fist with which the regime smites its opponents. Secretary of State Hillary Clinton, champion of humanitarian causes in other parts of the globe, has already said that "we must be pragmatic and agile" in dealing with the question of human rights in China.
Agility in support of pragmatism is what can be deduced from the badly-explained American conduct in the case of the lawyer Chen Guangcheng. In 2006, for his campaign against the government's policy of forced abortions, the blind activist was condemned to four years of detention for "blocking traffic." Twelve days later, with the help of courageous sympathizers, he managed to escape the house arrest under which he had been illegally detained for 19 months in a provincial village - while the regime's agents turned his family's life into a living hell. Last Thursday [April 26th], he arrived in Beijing, where he sought the American embassy. Apparently, he wanted help avoiding persecution in his own country.
On Wednesday [May 2nd], accompanied by diplomats, he was taken to a hospital (he had been injured in his flight) for treatment - an indication that his petition would be heeded. In reality, according to what he told the foreign press, by telephone, he grudgingly abandoned his shelter after being informed that his wife would be beaten to death if he stayed at the embassy. “To a certain extent,” he said, the Americans encouraged him to leave. It makes sense. Six hours later, Secretary of State Clinton arrived in Beijing for a round of bilateral conversations over subjects that she confirmed would be "more important," such as the Chinese policies on foreign exchange and commerce and the nuclear activities of Iran and North Korea. The day before, the Chinese chancellor demanded that the U.S. apologize for sheltering the activist.
The situation was further complicated for the Americans after Chen said that, in the end, he wanted to emigrate because “guaranteeing citizens’ rights in China is empty talk.” With this he weakened Washington's argument that they removed protection because he would be able to live in security in his country. It became clear that the U.S. wanted to be free of Chen as soon as possible. Hillary has already said that the economic and strategic agenda with China cannot be held hostage to the human rights question. So the game is played. It is proof that the American defense of these rights is selective: it depends on its interests in the countries where they're violated.
The beginning of a Beijing Spring depends above all on the permanent international pressure for the safety of pro-democracy activists, with the cessation of arbitrary imprisonment and violence to which they and their families are subjected. In theory, the U.S., in the name of values inseparable from its own origin and which its leaders never cease to proclaim, should be the first to support a multilateral movement in defense of human rights in China, a movement that does not waver in the face of dependency on the free economies of the new world economic colossus.
But theory and practice are different. The Obama government is pushing forward a bold strategy of containment of Chinese military power in Asia and Oceania; although in its thousands of years of history, the Middle Kingdom has not habitually embarked on wars of conquest, preferring to assert its influence in other ways. In any case, Washington's political rhetoric on China contrasts with its discrete profile, to say the least, given the iron fist with which the regime smites its opponents. Secretary of State Hillary Clinton, champion of humanitarian causes in other parts of the globe, has already said that "we must be pragmatic and agile" in dealing with the question of human rights in China.
Agility in support of pragmatism is what can be deduced from the badly-explained American conduct in the case of the lawyer Chen Guangcheng. In 2006, for his campaign against the government's policy of forced abortions, the blind activist was condemned to four years of detention for "blocking traffic." Twelve days later, with the help of courageous sympathizers, he managed to escape the house arrest under which he had been illegally detained for 19 months in a provincial village - while the regime's agents turned his family's life into a living hell. Last Thursday [April 26th], he arrived in Beijing, where he sought the American embassy. Apparently, he wanted help avoiding persecution in his own country.
On Wednesday [May 2nd], accompanied by diplomats, he was taken to a hospital (he had been injured in his flight) for treatment - an indication that his petition would be heeded. In reality, according to what he told the foreign press, by telephone, he grudgingly abandoned his shelter after being informed that his wife would be beaten to death if he stayed at the embassy. “To a certain extent,” he said, the Americans encouraged him to leave. It makes sense. Six hours later, Secretary of State Clinton arrived in Beijing for a round of bilateral conversations over subjects that she confirmed would be "more important," such as the Chinese policies on foreign exchange and commerce and the nuclear activities of Iran and North Korea. The day before, the Chinese chancellor demanded that the U.S. apologize for sheltering the activist.
The situation was further complicated for the Americans after Chen said that, in the end, he wanted to emigrate because “guaranteeing citizens’ rights in China is empty talk.” With this he weakened Washington's argument that they removed protection because he would be able to live in security in his country. It became clear that the U.S. wanted to be free of Chen as soon as possible. Hillary has already said that the economic and strategic agenda with China cannot be held hostage to the human rights question. So the game is played. It is proof that the American defense of these rights is selective: it depends on its interests in the countries where they're violated.