China, the Pluralist Nation

In a September 2014 op-ed for the New York Times, Thomas L. Friedman registered his approval of pluralism (a sentiment sparked by the referendum on Scottish independence), writing, “God bless America… [O]ut of many we’ve made one nation, with all the benefits that come from mixing cultures and all the strengths that come from being able to act together.”

To this, let me add: God bless China. Or, as it were, praise the Dragon Flag. Certainly, e pluribus unum describes the Middle Kingdom as aptly as it does the Land of Opportunity, if not more so. Unlike the U.S., China is a country of motley tongues, and perhaps more than the U.S., a nation of prismatic customs. Unfortunately this, coupled with imperialistic problem-solving, has produced large-scale and widespread ethnic conflict – indeed, a veritable laundry list of ethnic separatist movements. In Inner Mongolia, ethnic Mongolians have the proposed Republic of South Mongol. In Tibet Autonomous Region, ethnic Tibetans have the proposed state of Tibet. In Xinjiang, ethnic Uyghurs have the proposed state of East Turkestan. And, while not ethnically motivated, one would be remiss not to mention the Hongkonger Front, and their proposed Republic of Hong Kong, or the Republic of Taiwan, whose full independence is supported by the Pan-Green Coalition. Yet there China is, despite it all, a nation with as much patriotic fervor as any.

On the one hand, mainland ethnic separatist movements seem as likely to succeed as the ethnic Ainu movement in Hokkaido, Japan, which seeks a Republic of Ainu. In other words, I wouldn’t hold my breath. Take Tibet, for instance. The Tibetan Plateau, together with the Himalaya-Hindu Kush mountain range, is known as the Third Pole because it is home to the largest reserve of fresh water outside of the polar regions. Over 20 percent of the planet’s population depends on the Third Pole for drinking water. Meanwhile, China is over a quarter desert. Despite what some may think, Beijing’s hold on the Tibetan region has little or nothing to do with religious preoccupations and far more to do with basic survival and regional influence. (The Tibetan Plateau also constitutes the headwaters for Southeast Asia.) Viewed in this light, the likelihood that Beijing will liberate Tibet, and then be forced to submit to it for its water needs, seems about as likely as Washington granting Texas a republic.

On the other hand, something has to give. Reflecting on the Ferguson unrest, Friedman argues that this “reminds us that we’re still a work in progress in the pluralism department. But work on it we do.” And so does China. For example, in 1984 the Ministry of Education enacted an affirmative action policy, creating a 9.2 percent increase in tertiary education enrollment among non-Han Chinese over the next nine years. Also, this year’s Spring Festival gala, the most-watched television program in China, was hosted by Negmat Rahman, an ethnic Uyghur. However, China lacks what Friedman calls a “pluralistic ethic.” According to a report by the Partnership for a New American Economy, which Friedman references by way of The Economist, “40 percent of Fortune 500 firms were founded by immigrants or their children.” Yet Chinese society is still culturally isolationist, and we are maybe half a century from hearing the corollary to “Chinese American,” i.e. “American Chinese.”

Citing the Pluralism Project at Harvard, which defines pluralism as an “energetic engagement with diversity,” Friedman contrasts pluralistic societies like Syria and Iraq with societies of pluralism like America. In the former, society is “kept stable by a strongman.” In the latter, he writes, the guiding principle has always been the motto of Lebanon’s cigar-loving leader Saeb Salam, who ended the 1958 conflict, declaring, “la ghalib, la maghlub” (no winner, no loser). Or as Friedman puts it, “everyone’s interests have to be balanced.”

Yet it is Salam’s other famous utterance, “Lubnan Wahid la Lubnanan” (Lebanon is one, not Lebanons), that is perhaps closer to what Beijing has in mind. Its relationship with Hong Kong is defined by the “one country, two systems” principle. Its relationship with Taiwan is founded on the one-China policy. Its response to separatism is invariably: “yige Zhongguo” (one China).

But as Friedman emphasizes, innovation is a collaborative phenomenon, thus China may want to consider finding a suitable grounding point and making “energetic engagement” with this very powerful battery. In Xinjiang, for example, much of the unrest can be traced to economic factors, yet local government jobs continue to go to ethnic Han rather than Uyghur. Moreover, every time there’s a violent outbreak, the government’s justice is swift and sure (though not always so just). Margaret Thatcher signed the Hillsborough Anglo-Irish Agreement with the I.R.A. in 1985, and peace followed. By contrast, Beijing’s method is a stopgap measure. When the government cracks down, terrorist survivors, now battle-hardened, break into smaller, more difficult to target, and more politically radical, groups.

Trying to hold China together by sheer force is somewhat like a giant trying to stop an earthquake by pressing against the earth. A better method would be the mortise-and-tenon joinery of Buddhist temples, which allow individual parts to slide freely during a quake without altering the overall shape of the building. In a more recent op-ed, Friedman wrote that Chinese President Xi Jinping is trying to restrict certain freedoms “just enough to prevent dissent but not enough to choke off innovation.” Whether this will work remains to be seen.

Meanwhile in Japan, Ariana Miyamoto, the daughter of a Japanese mother and an African-American father, won the Miss Universe title this year, sparking a discussion about what it means to be Japanese. China is even more diverse. It’s time China had the same conversation, and fully embraced the beauty of “Many Chinas.”