Small gain from big Chinese adventure
Originally published by The Australian,28 June 2010
By Rowan Callick
Kevin Rudd’s failure to engage China during his tenure spotlights his weaknesses
ONE of the most curious elements in the downfall of Kevin Rudd is what went wrong with Lu Kewen’s Big Chinese Adventure. It is a saga that ran parallel to the broader domestic failures that caused his demise. It is also one in which his weaknesses became apparent earlier, perhaps because it is an area of such special significance to him.
It requires the most careful probing because its lessons for Australia’s economic and strategic future are so telling.
When he became prime minister, a sense of mild exultation coursed through the community of people engaged in the relationship between Australia and China.
This was not only because he speaks Chinese, but also because of his understanding of China — not always the same thing. This appeared to provide Australia with a clear opportunity for differentiation from the rest of the West, and thus potentially better economic terms and a sound strategic relationship, or dialogue.
Yet when Rudd fell last week, the Chinese media covered the event more fully than the media of any other country. State news agency Xinhua’s early, detailed story was headlined in the English version: “Reasons for failure of previous Australian PM Rudd.”
There was widespread relief, in the Australian business community and Chinese official circles.
Rudd’s approach to China had become unpredictable, especially exacerbating for a state that revolves around planning and preventing surprises.
Australian business people involved with China felt left out in the cold. And he had failed to bring the broader Australian population along with him on the road towards better understanding how we might relate to China.
The Lu Kewen fervour reached its greatest intensity three months after he became prime minister, with Fujian Education Press’s publication of his biography by Robert Macklin translated into Chinese. The book’s subtitle is: “The Australian Premier Who Speaks Chinese.”
Rudd had appeared to set the stage for a strong Chinese relationship with his masterful move to engage President Hu Jintao in Chinese at the Sydney APEC summit as the 2007 election approached, indicating how he could effortlessly help Australia step up a gear in relating to our great new economic partner.
Oddly, despite the warm applause from Australian voters for this political coup, Rudd has since stepped away from public engagement over China, about which he knows so much, as if he still fears a public backlash.
On his first visit to China as prime minister, in April 2008, he delivered in Chinese a speech at Beijing University in which he offered to be a zhengyou, a true friend, to China in its global journey. Such a friend, he said, “offers unflinching advice and counsels restraint”. In this context, he spoke of Tibet, that “it is necessary to recognise there are significant human rights problems” there.
This kind of friendship, he said, “I know is treasured in China’s political tradition”.
The truth of that was soon tested. When Rudd met China’s leaders as head of government for the first time, he discovered they did not appear to treasure his “unflinching advice” and instead he received a dressing-down over Tibet from President Hu.
Extraordinarily, he was not to deliver another substantial speech on China for another two years.
During this time, the relationship suffered a roller-coaster ride, with troubling events threatening at times to derail it such as the Stern Hu case, the Rebiya Kadeer film and visit, the failure of Chinalco’s move on Rio Tinto, and the removal of Joel Fitzgibbon from Defence over his sponsorship by a Chinese family friend.
These were not issues of the government’s making, but the negative impact was compounded in part by a perception of a failure of government leadership in responding to them. The weight of the resources trade at the heart of the relationship has ensured that stability has been restored.
Then came Copenhagen where, it appears, Rudd somehow expected China’s representatives led by Premier Wen Jiabao to overturn their whole political culture, and cut a deal with foreign leaders that would necessarily include greater imposts on Chinese industry.
This could never have happened. Wen took to the climate change conference a pledge to cut the intensity of carbon emissions — that was no bargaining position, it was China’s plan.
When Rudd chose to re-enter the China discourse, by delivering the George Morrison address at the Australian National University this April, he spoke more like an academic, as he weighed the virtues of the New Sinology.
He failed to seize the opportunity, as a prime minister might be expected to do, to spell out how Australian should proceed on contested issues such as investment and security.
Chinese officials and academics began to reflect favourably on the relationship under John Howard, by no means a China expert but a leader with whom they felt comfortable. When he fell, China was fascinated by the process. Theirs is a nation run by backroom committee men rather than by charismatic individuals, and the Communist Party has its own factions, the taizidang or princelings, and the tuanpai or Youth League followers.
Rudd’s rude remark about procreation and rats over China’s failure to cut a deal in Copenhagen may have been the spur to heir apparent Xi Jinping’s wry reference a week ago in Canberra to the “valuable assistance” Australia provides China in animal husbandry.
With ambassador to China Geoff Raby well into his fourth year, there has naturally been some talk in the past few days of his being replaced by Rudd. But unless Julia Gillard made an offer in the heat of the moment on Thursday, reflection on the narrative of Lu Kewen’s Big Chinese Adventure would seem to rule that out.