Yanwen’s blog

Yesterday, I read a fascinating memoir by a staff member from the Chinese Liaison Office in the U.S., established in 1973. The article, titled "The Bits and Pieces of the Work around the Establishing of the Liaison Office in the U.S." (驻美联络处, Zhù Měi Liánluò Chù, the Liaison Office in the U.S.), recounts the early days of this important diplomatic mission.

The author was part of the first group to arrive in Washington, D.C., on May 28, 1973, alongside Director Huang Zhen, as they set up the Liaison Office.

Several aspects of the memoir stood out as worth exploring further. First, it's important to recall that President Nixon's historic visit to China took place on February 21, 1972. Just a year later, Liaison Offices were established in both the U.S. and China. Premier Zhou Enlai is credited with coining the term "Liaison Office" as a diplomatic workaround. This allowed American and Chinese personnel to work in each other’s capitals and engage diplomatically without the formal recognition that embassies would require. 

The creation of these offices marked a significant step in gradually restoring U.S.-China relations. They became key channels for high-level communication and cooperation, laying the important groundwork for full diplomatic relations, which were eventually formalized in 1979 under President Jimmy Carter. By then, the Liaison Offices in Washington, D.C., and Beijing were upgraded to full embassies.

In her memoir, the author recalled a pivotal moment before Huang Zhen officially took his post as head of the Liaison Office. Chairman Mao personally received Huang and emphasized that the Liaison Office would be "even more important than an embassy." Typically, an embassy has a single ambassador with full authority, but at the Liaison Office, both the director and deputy director held ambassadorial rank, underscoring the high priority the Chinese government placed on this office.

While the establishment of the Liaison Office is central to the memoir, it’s the smaller details that add depth. One such detail is the author’s account of her sudden reassignment. At the time, she was working on Norwegian diplomatic affairs, preparing for the visit of the Norwegian Prime Minister to China. Unexpectedly, shortly after returning to Beijing from Guangzhou on May 18, she was informed she would leave for Washington just 10 days later, on May 28, to help establish the Liaison Office, giving her no time for any personal arrangements.

Reading her memoir reminded me of similar accounts from American staff who served in China during this period --Life in the US Liaison Office in Peking. Many brought their families with them, and photos show children playing and adapting to life in Beijing. It made me wonder—what about the author's family? Did her children join her on this momentous journey to Washington, just as American diplomats' families were part of the experience in Beijing?

The establishment of the Liaison Office in 1973 marked a turning point in U.S.-China relations, symbolizing cautious progress toward mutual understanding and door-opening. Memoirs like this offer a glimpse into the personal sacrifices and rapid changes that accompanied these diplomatic efforts. As we reflect on these initial door-opening moments, let us remember the sacrifices and detailed work of the people who helped build bridges between the two countries.

I recently read that Apple plans to open an extensive research lab in Shenzhen, China. In conversations with my relatives, they highlighted China’s strong standing in the IT sector. What’s interesting is that, despite geopolitical pressures leading Apple to shift iPhone production to India, the Chinese market remains critical for Apple’s global strategy.

This new research lab appears to be a calculated move to secure Apple's place in China, the world's largest smartphone market, while facing increasing competition from domestic players like Huawei. While Apple is diversifying its production, China’s high-value consumer base still offers immense opportunities.

As of 2023, India’s population overtook China’s, reaching 1.43 billion compared to China’s 1.41 billion. Despite this, iPhone’s market share in India was just 4.11% as of June 2024, much lower than its 14% share in China. 

This contrast stems from several factors, including India’s lower GDP per capita, which is projected to be $2,730 in 2024, compared to China’s estimated $13,140. The Indian market is more price-sensitive, with the majority of consumers opting for budget and mid-range smartphones, whereas iPhones are positioned as premium devices. Chinese consumers, by comparison, have shown a greater appetite for high-end products, contributing to Apple's larger share.

Apple’s Shenzhen research lab aims to leverage local talent, data, and consumer behavior to remain competitive in China. Unlike India, where no domestic brand directly challenges Apple, it faces significant competition in China from Huawei, which is making a strong comeback. This R&D hub could play a vital role in helping Apple tailor its products to local preferences and accelerate innovation in response to market demands.

A well-known Chinese saying from Sun Tzu’s The Art of War—知己知彼，百战不殆 (zhī jǐ zhī bǐ, bǎi zhàn bù dài)—which means "Know yourself and know your enemy, and you will never be defeated in a hundred battles," aptly describes Apple’s strategy. By understanding the market, competition, and its own strengths, Apple is positioned to thrive amid fierce competition.

As the tech landscape continues to evolve, Apple’s ability to innovate and respond to local market dynamics will be crucial for its ongoing success. Establishing a research lab in Shenzhen reflects Apple’s effort to balance global strategies with local insights, ensuring its relevance in one of the world’s most competitive markets.

There are many topics I’d like to write about—books, history, current events, and my own life stories, both past and present, as well as news from China.

Recently, I came across an inspiring story about the Kubuqi Desert (库布齐沙漠) (Kù bù qí shā mò). Located in the southern part of Inner Mongolia, it is the 7th largest desert in China, covering approximately 18,600 square kilometers (7,200 square miles), about the same size as the U.S. state of New Jersey. Notably, it is the closest large desert to Beijing, situated about 800 kilometers away. The Kubuqi Desert has a long history, stretching back over 3,000 years to the Western Zhou Dynasty.

What makes this story extraordinary is that the Kubuqi Desert has become a global model for desert reclamation and ecological restoration. Through large-scale desertification control efforts, one-third of this once barren land has been transformed into plant-covered areas, even showing promise for agriculture.

In 1988, the Elion Resources Group spearheaded this ambitious project, combining government policy, corporate involvement, and community engagement. Over the past three decades, this collaboration has achieved what many would consider a miracle. Using a mix of afforestation, water management, sand-fixing technologies, and research on drought-resistant plants, along with strong community participation, the yellow has gradually turned green. 

Today, one-third of the arid wasteland is now thriving oasis, home to sand willow forests, grasslands, and even a thin layer of soil, indicating that the land may one day support farming. 

Also important, the desert reclamation has drastically reduced the frequency of sandstorms, once averaging 50 sandstorms a year, now just one annually.

Over 100,000 local people have been lifted out of poverty through innovative initiatives such as tree planting, licorice farming, and solar energy projects, proving that ecological restoration can go hand in hand with economic development. Also the sand sedimentation is drastically reduced in the Yellow River because of this. 

In 2017, Time magazine highlighted the significance of this project in an article titled China’s Greening of the Vast Kubuqi Desert is a Model for Land Restoration Projects Everywhere—a true testament to the power of human innovation and collaboration in the face of environmental challenges.

The Kubuqi Desert’s transformation is an example of what is possible when innovation, determination, and collaboration come together. This once barren expanse now serves as a symbol of hope—for both China and the world—proving that humanity has the capacity to heal the planet, one desert at a time, reclaiming both land and the future.

As the days grow shorter and the weather turns colder, the Ukraine-Russia war enters its third winter, with both sides enduring heavy casualties. Amid rising global uncertainty—driven by the upcoming U.S. election and escalating tensions in the Middle East—the West is recalibrating its objectives. The prospect of total victory seems distant, and the pressure on Ukraine to reach a settlement continues to grow.

The proposed deal reportedly allows Russia to retain control over four Russian-speaking territories, while Ukraine would be granted NATO membership in exchange.

This news stirs many reflections. First, while the war is fought between Ukraine and Russia, one must question how much control Ukraine truly has over its own fate. Its future seems to lie in the hands of outside powers, which is both tragic and disheartening.

Second, the notion that Ukraine's NATO membership will ensure lasting peace seems dangerously naïve. The belief that U.S. and Western allies can guarantee Ukraine’s security overlooks a harsh reality: Ukraine remains a small neighbor to Russia, caught in the geopolitical tug-of-war between two global powers.

Lastly, European history shows that peace is often merely a pause in the ongoing cycle of conflict. The Peace of Westphalia (1648), celebrated for ending the Thirty Years' War and the Eighty Years' War, was meant to usher in a new era of stability. Yet just forty years later, Europe found itself in the Nine Years' War (1688-1697), followed by the War of Spanish Succession (1701-1714), the War of Austrian Succession (1740), the Seven Years' War (1756-1763), the Napoleonic Wars (1803-1815), the Franco-Prussian War (1870-1871), World War I, World War II, and beyond. From Korea to Vietnam, the NATO bombing of Yugoslavia, the Gulf War, Iraq, Afghanistan—war has remained a constant, with peace treaties serving only as brief intermissions.

A Chinese saying goes, 东山再起 (dōng shān zài qǐ), which literally means "to rise again from Mount Dongshan." Figuratively, it speaks to the idea of making a comeback after defeat or setback. 

As Europe's history has shown, peace is often fleeting, a pause before the next chapter of war. NATO membership may strengthen Ukraine’s position, but it will not erase its proximity to Russia or its vulnerability as a pawn between great powers. The future may well hold another resurgence of tensions, much like the countless wars that have scarred and plagued Europe for thousands of years.

As the Chinese saying goes, to rise again after a setback, will Ukraine, emboldened by NATO’s backing, initiate its own resurgence of conflict with Russia? Only time will tell if this so-called peace is truly the end or merely the beginning of another cycle.

Less than a month before Election Day, November 5, someone remarked that "the die is cast and fate is sealed"—unless a 黑天鹅事件 (hēi tiān’é shìjiàn) or Black Swan Event, occurs. A Black Swan Event refers to an unpredictable, high-impact event that defies normal expectations. 

The mention of elections and a Black Swan Event brings to mind the Iran hostage crisis (November 4, 1979 – January 20, 1981) and the 1980 presidential debate between Ronald Reagan and Jimmy Carter. I was in college at the time, and I still vividly recall both events, particularly the disappointment and a sense of injustice I felt when Carter lost the election.

Following the 1979 Iranian Revolution, President Jimmy Carter stood by the ousted Shah of Iran, granting him entry into the U.S. for medical treatment. This decision inflamed anti-American sentiment in Iran and culminated in the hostage crisis.

While the crisis itself may not qualify as a Black Swan Event, the timing of the hostages' release certainly does. Their release, which coincided precisely with Reagan's inauguration, 1/20/1981, seemed almost too well-orchestrated. Even from the other side of the Pacific, in Beijing, I couldn't help but suspect that there was some behind-the-scenes deal between Iran and Reagan's campaign to ensure the hostages were freed at just the right moment.

Additionally, the hostage crisis had a major negative impact on Carter’s presidency and re-election bid, and the immediate resolution under Reagan’s administration appeared to highlight a dramatic contrast between the two leaders.

The whole event felt as though the lives of those hostages had been leveraged for political gain, which is unsettling.

Later, I came across the "October Surprise" theory, which suggests that Reagan’s team, possibly led by campaign manager William Casey (who later became CIA director), secretly negotiated with Iranian officials to delay the release of the hostages in order to defeat Carter’s re-election bid. Although no definitive evidence of such a deal has ever surfaced, the suspicion lingers, especially involving the work of CIA.

The Iran hostage crisis, whether by coincidence or clandestine dealings, had a profound impact on the outcome of the 1980 election. It remains a potent reminder of how unpredictable events can reshape the political landscape. The idea that lives could be strategically leveraged for electoral victory is disturbing, and while as with most of secret dealings the truth behind the "October Surprise" may never fully emerge, the lingering suspicion will persist, serving as a reminder of the murky intersections between power and human lives. 

It leaves us pondering how much of history is shaped by the hidden currents beneath them. The hostage crisis wasn’t just a geopolitical issue; it was a test of morality, trust, and the unpredictable forces that often define our world today.