Is China becoming a sanctioning state?

The latest issue of The Washington Quarterly is just lousy with China essays -- it's like there's a theme or something.  Andrew Scobell and Andrew Nathan tackle China's (apparently overstretched) military, and Guoyou Song and Wen Jin Yuan review China's response to the burgeoning Trans-Pacific Partnership.

James Reilly has an essay on China's use of unilateral economic sanctions that really caught my eye, however.  The overwhelming bulk of economic sanctions that have been threatened and used during the past century have been from the United States.  From a scholarly perspective this is somewhat disturbing, as general theories about economic statecraft become tough to distinguish from theories of U.S. foreign policy.  If another great power starts being profligate with its economic statecraft, there's the promise of a lot of new data. 

China has deplored the use of economic sanctions in the past, but as Reilly notes, "Over the past few years, Chinese experts have begun to clear some of the legal, moral, ideological, and practical hurdles to Beijing’s use of unilateral sanctions."

So... how effective are they?  Well, at best, it's a mixed bag.  Here's Reilly's key paragraph: 

Ultimately, China uses sanctions for the same reasons other countries do: they are a relatively low-cost, low-risk way to signal dissatisfaction, increase the costs to those who take undesired actions, and satisfy domestic demands to respond to those actions. Sanctions can assuage domestic criticism while not undermining broader economic and diplomatic interests. For all these reasons, China has increasingly resorted to unilateral sanctions in recent years on issues like Taiwan, Tibet, human rights, and maritime disputes.

If you read the article, it's pretty clear that any concessions made by other countries have  been pretty modest --more modest than Reilly seems willing to admit (compare Reilly's take on the 2010 Nobel Prize sanctions with, for example, Erik Voeten's). 

But there are three caveats to this observation.  First, if China views the sanctions as mostly symbolic and for domestic consumption, then it wouldn't be surprising that they're ineffective.  Symbolic sanctions aren't supposed to work, they're supposed to be for show.  Second, Reilly notes that China likes threatening sanctions more than using them, and sanctions threats are more likely to work as a form of pre-emptive coercion and deterrence than actually compelling the actor in this particular case. 

Third, as with its economic statecraft more generally, China is just beginning to understand this foreign policy tool.  Indeed, as Reilly observes, the problem with issuing empty threats is that "the credibility of Beijing’s bluffs risk eroding over time."  It will be veeeery interesting to see how China's approach to economic statecraft evolves over time. 


Daniel W. Drezner

Argo -- the Foreign Policy review

Last night your humble blogger went to see Argo, which Ben Affleck directs and stars in. Here's a trailer: 

Now, those readers who care about things like "cinematography" or "editing" will love this film, but let's face it, if you're reading this blog, it means you're really interested in foreign policy and international relations. And let's face it again -- with a few noteworthy exceptions, the film industry has not done world politics proud. So, from that perspective, how does Argo hold up? 

With some mild spoilers below, I'm happy to report that the film is pleasantly savvy in the ways of the wonk, and even the ways in which it's not savvy can be productive. 

First, the film nails both the stakes and the awful policy choices faced by Americans during the hostage crisis. The prologue -- a clever and brief history of U.S. involvement in Iran prior to the 1979 Iranian revolution -- concisely explains exactly why that country might have been juuuuuust a wee bit angry at the U.S. government in 1979. The film starts on Nov. 4, the day the embassy was seized. The entire opening sequence is well done, but the thing it captures perfectly is the stone-cold realization by the embassy staff that once the compound is breached, there's no escape and no cavalry riding to the rescue. At one point, the head of the security staff explains patiently that their job is simply to buy time for the rest of the embassy personnel to burn/shred all the classified documents. The character also states -- correctly -- that if anyone kills any Iranian, there will be a bloodbath. 

Once the hostages are seized -- and six manage to surreptitiously flee to the Canadian ambassador's compound -- Argo is straightforward on both the bureaucratic politics of trying to spirit them out and the bad odds that any exfiltration plan will have in getting them out of Tehran. At one point CIA exfiltration expert Tony Mendez (played by Afflek) and his superior pitch their plan to the Secretary of State. In that scene, they state the obvious, which is rarely stated in films of this kind: there are no good options, and their plan of having the six be part of a film crew scouting a sci-fi movie location in Tehran is simply the "best bad idea" that they have. Welcome to foreign policymaking -- trying to figure out the best bad idea around. Argo doubles down on this sentiment in a quiet but effective scene at Dulles airport, when Mendez and his superior discuss who in his family should be notified if things go south. 

Now, as it turns out, in real life, Mendez was driven to Dulles by his wife. This is just one of many Hollywoodizations that occur, particularly in the second half of the film. Affleck and screenwriter Chris Terrio take some liberties with what went down in Tehran and Washington as Mendez tries to spirit out the six Americans. 

Oddly enough, this is unintentionally constructive for anyone interested in becoming a true foreign policy wonk. Here's a fun test: 

1)  Go see Argo;

2)  Try to figure out which parts of the narrative's second half are fiction and which are fact;

3)  Go read the Wired story by Joshuah Bearman that partially inspired the movie and the Slate explainer by David Haglund. If you didn't detect at least one of the Really Big Whoppers in the second half of the film, well, then you should probably find a career other than becoming a foreign policy wonk. Because there is some serious fictionalizing going on. If you're buying it as fact, then you either lack the instincts or the strategic chops necessary to operate in the world of statecraft.