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Russian sanction dodging Chinese apps in Taiwan

PARIS — A few months after the Lisbon earthquake of November 1755, which destroyed almost all of the Portuguese capital, Voltaire published a long poem meditating on the metaphysical consequences of the disaster.
“Lisbon is ruined, and they dance in Paris,” he writes. Today, Turkey is devastated, and there are protests in Paris. An event of this magnitude, whose seismic wave was felt around the world, deserves more than just the grim daily count of victims — now above 45,000.
Yes, the fate of the Anatolia region, the cradle of our Indo-European languages is also ours.
Voltaire describes a wretched scene similar to what flashes across our social media feeds today: “These women, these children, piled on top of each other under these broken slabs of marble, a hundred thousand unfortunate souls devoured by the earth, who, bloody, torn, and still palpitating, buried under their roofs, end their pitiful days in the horror of torments without help.”
Nearly three centuries later, concrete has replaced the marble, but humanity seems just as helpless in the face of tectonic forces. We navigate Earth like we’re on a makeshift raft, always under the threat of a tidal wave.
Voltaire addresses this sense of powerlessness to the optimists and believers in divine necessity, to all those who justify the ordering of the world by the wisdom of a creating God. “You cry out that all is well, in a mournful voice: the universe contradicts you, and your own heart, a hundred times over, refutes the error.”
Against the pitfalls of post-rationalization, Voltaire advises us to give free rein to our legitimate distress. We should not be ashamed to find human existence sometimes painful, unfair, absurd.
Nowadays, the myth of perpetual progress has replaced that of the omniscience of the Absolute. In the role of optimists, techno-bliss has replaced theo-bliss. They tell us that everything will be fine, that they are about to save the world. They claim to eliminate death or tame nature, as in the Babelian project of Neom, that glass city 500 meters high and 170 kilometers long in the Saudi desert.
To correct their own excesses, they imagine even worse fantasies of geo-engineering with unpredictable consequences. Until an earthquake, a comet, or the mass extinction of living species reminds them of what we are: “A feeble compound of nerves and bones” who should learn to live with the cosmos rather than seek to master it.
The current catastrophe offers us a second, more political lesson. In the early days, the state disappeared. So what happened? Did the survivors kill each other, as in American disaster movies? Quite the opposite. We read countless testimonies of heroic efforts and extraordinary devotion.
Turkish novelist Elif Shafak recently explained that, faced with the failure of the authorities, civil society organized itself, and rescue teams are pouring in from all over the world. Shafak recalls Rebecca Solnit’s book, A Paradise Built in Hell, which shows how, in the midst of chaos, closeknit communities form that transcend the individualism of modern societies. Human beings then rediscover their social animal nature.
The Anatolia earthquake commands a double respect for nature: the nature around us, stronger than our concrete constructions, and the human nature within us that contains far more love than our nation-state constructions. As Voltaire recommended after Lisbon, it is time to listen to “the voice of nature.”
What do you remember from the news this week?
1. During his anti-West diatribe of his state of nation address, Russian President Vladimir Putin announced Russia’s withdrawal from what treaty?
2. China rolled out a monthly cash subsidy for low-income residents, worth: $5.80 / $58 / $580
3. Why were Venice’s iconic gondolas out of service this week?
4. A visitor accidentally kicked a $42,000-sculpture off of its podium at a contemporary art fair in Miami. Who was the artist?
(Answers on page 26)
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A Year Of Putin Lies: How Russian War Propaganda Has Backfired From Day One | Worldcrunch
By Anna AkageRussia, U.S. And China All Know: Ukraine’s Fate Will Define The World Of Tomorrow | France Inter
By Pierre HaskiInside The Battle For Bakhmut, A Singular Prize In Ukraine’s New War Of Attrition | La Stampa
By Francesca MannocchiHow Russia Is Still Dodging Sanctions — With Help From Companies Everywhere | Vazhnyye Istorii
By Maria ZholobovaFirst Signs The China-Africa Love Affair Is Growing Cold | Die Welt
By Christian Putsch and Christina zur Nedden18
Cilia Flores de Maduro, How Venezuela’s First Lady Wields A Corrupt “Flower Shop” Of Power | El Espectador
By Mauricio RubioPop And Propaganda — How Taiwan’s Teens Are Lured By Chinese Social Media | The Initium
By Bosong Xu23
Staff:
Star Trek And The Journey From Science Fiction To Pseudoscience | Questão de Ciência
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From the first fake news reports that Zelensky had fled to Putin’s latest speech Tuesday that blamed the war on the West, Russia’s attempts to manipulate opinion have wound up leaving Moscow itself as the prime victim of its own lies.
By Anna AkageOne year of war can also be counted in 365 days of lies, disinformation and fake news.
With its invasion of Ukraine, Vladimir Putin’s Russia turned up the volume and rhythm on a propaganda machine that has been deployed the past decade across a range of channels to manipulate public opinion, at home and abroad.
It has continued to the present, with Putin delivering a major speech Tuesday in which he repeated many of the falsehoods that have justified a war that has not gone as planned — all the while vowing to continue to fight.
Yet, this would-be secret weapon of disinformation has repeatedly backfired, ultimately contributing in a crucial way to the Kremlin’s overall failures in the war. And as we now mark the one-year anniversary of the invasion, the story of the broken propaganda machine is coming full circle.
Let’s go back to the beginning, to the first Big Lie that Moscow told after the Feb. 24 invasion was launched. By the following morning, multiple Russian Internet publications close to the Kremlin were reporting that Ukrainian
President Volodymyr Zelensky had disappeared, most likely escaped to London, where he allegedly held real estate property.
According to the reports, much of the top echelon of Ukrainian leadership had likewise fled Kyiv, leaving the poor, abandoned Ukrainians to scatter into basements to hide from the advancing and inevitable takeover of the invincible Russian army.
That evening of Feb. 25, Zelensky recorded a video in front of the main government building of Kyiv, surrounded by members of his government, naming each and saying that each was “here.”
It arguably remains the single defining moment of the war, not only for its display of Ukrainian resolve and the launch of Zelensky as a remarkable wartime leader — but also because it so quickly and calmly discredited the false narrative of Russia’s invasion.
Three audiences
Russian propaganda, directed personally by Vladimir Putin, continued to focus on Zelensky in those early days, presenting him not only as a fugitive, but also a neo-Nazi, a U.S. minion and any other number of lies.
Still, both for Ukraine and the international community, Zelensky became an unlikely and bonafide war hero. He managed to unite Ukraine and the world to gain support and arms that had seemed impossible at the beginning of the war.
From the start, the Russian disinformation machine has been working on three main fronts at once: trying to frighten and demoralize the Ukrainian audience, convince the international audience of Russia’s military and energy strengths, and solidifying
support among the Russian masses.
On the third front, at home, we know that the groundwork was being laid well before the invasion of Ukraine, with the Kremlin bombarding the Russian public with constant accusations about the authorities in Kyiv — everything from imposing bans on the Russian language to directing Ukrainian scientists to develop “combat mosquitoes” that carry biological weapons and only bite Russian residents.
After the war began, an antiUkrainian and anti-American Twitter account posted a photo of a chocolate bar, which featured on its wrapper a portrait of a boy wearing a Russian army helmet with a black mourning ribbon and the words: "Death to Aleshka."
"Ukrainians wish death on a child for being proud of his country," one pro-Russian account claimed. Russian Telegram channels and propaganda media spread the news, which appeared on dozens of Russian-language channels and on the social network site Vkontakte.
More sweeping fake news stories were also planted about Ukraine producing chemical weapons and plotting with Washington to welcome NATO bases on its territory. Indeed, the narrative often places the Americans at the center, pulling the strings in Kyiv in what is portrayed as the continuation of the longstanding U.S. aggression against Mother Russia.
The domestic audience again appeared the main target of Tuesday’s “state of the nation” speech, where Putin again blamed the West for the war and wanting to destroy Russia. "They intend to transform a local conflict into a phase of global confrontation. This is exactly how we understand it all and we will react accordingly, because in this case we are talking about the existence of our country."
While Putin may continue to hold sway over much of the Russian public, he’s had less success abroad, as the West has largely remained united and even more friendly players like China have
hesitated to throw their support behind Moscow.
Russia’s subtle and not-so-subtle reminders about its nuclear weapons prompted immediate pushback from Beijing, while claims about Europe's total dependence on Moscow’s gas and oil supplies have turned out not to have the absolute bind over the global economy. A bluff, like a lie, leaves one weaker when reality is revealed.
Ultimately, the teeth of the Russian bear have broken on the bones of the Kremlin itself. Russian lies have been so widespread and persistent that they were bound to infect the choices Moscow would make, convinced of the weakness
of Ukraine, the cowardice of the West, the invincibility of its own army, the strength of the Kremlin elite. Indeed, Putin himself has become the primary victim of Russian propaganda, tricked into a war that he never could win.
The Russian intelligence establishment told him that Ukrainians would surrender, the army would disperse, and village locals would come out with flowers to greet the Russian soldiers; the world would turn a blind eye to the takeover of the country as it did in 2014 with the annexation of Crimea; the generals lied to him about the strength and readiness of the Russian army and the military hardware.
One year into a war that was supposed to last three days, Putin
has no choice but to continue to blame the West for a war that he, objectively, started. "I want to repeat: it was they who unleashed the war," Putin said Tuesday. "And we continue to use force to stop it."
Repeating a lie doesn’t make it true — and in this case, at least, it makes the liar look weak.
One year since Russia’s invasion, the global stakes of the war in Ukraine have come more fully into focus. It’s a battle over fundamental questions of sovereignty and democracy, but also the very meaning of power.
PARIS — When we talk about the state of the world during the time of war in Ukraine, the word that comes up most often is “fragmented.” This is of course a euphemism, as we have seen in the deep divisions on display this past week.
As if they had consulted each other, Vladimir Putin and Joe Biden have doubled down on their rivalry: Putin, by brutally attacking the West, the root of all evil – and Biden, by showing his total commitment to Ukraine in the face of Russian aggression.
But the world is not as bipolar as it was during the Cold War. China has burst onto the scene this anniversary week, with the visit of head Chinese diplomat Wang Yi to Munich and Moscow. On Wednesday, standing beside Putin, he spoke of a “rock solid” relationship between the two countries, without crossing the line into support of the Russian war.
Alongside this ballet of the three giants, Europe is relatively invisible, and the rest of the world, an irritated witness. What does this tell us? The outcome of the war will define the world of tomorrow, which helps explain the scale of the conflict.
Putin launched his army into Ukraine hoping to recreate a “sphere of influence.” The failed invasion has become a test of the balance of power between a Russia with imperial dreams, and a West reinvigorated by the challenge to its borders.
If Putin wins in Ukraine, the whole region is threatened – starting with small ex-Soviet Moldova, which has felt increasingly uneasy of late.
Conflicts that have been “frozen” for years in Moldova, Georgia and other precarious situations in the Caucasus and Central Asia would also be affected.
For the U.S., this has become a fullscale test of the nation’s credibility after the debacle in Kabul in August 2021 – and in the middle, the growing confrontation with China. As one European diplomat confided, the Americans support Ukraine, but really have China on their minds.
For the past year, the West has been holding out hope for any sign of distancing between China and Russia, as if waiting for the Messiah. It hasn’t happened yet — meanwhile, Chinese propaganda echoes Russian messaging non-stop.
The world would be different if China had not engaged in this conflict, or even, in a worst-case scenario, opened a second front in Taiwan. U.S. Secretary of State Anthony Blinken has accused China of preparing to deliver arms to Russia, which Beijing has denied. China now
says it will present a peace plan, which has been met with immense skepticism.
The reality of this world is that we have two powers who want to challenge Western dominance. What this war has revealed is that much of the world shares this goal, and the feeling that the West has been abusing its powerful position.
Accepting “might makes right” as the rule in geopolitics would force us to regress to the world of the past, when empires were formed through conquest. This is why Ukraine has become a symbol that cannot fall.
Translated by Emma AlbrightBakhmut in eastern Ukraine has been the site of some of the fiercest and bloodiest battles since Russia’s invasion. As the human toll mounts, Ukraine must decide between symbolism and strategy in a fight against waves of untrained Russian civilian troops.
“Don’t ask me anything about how to fight,” says Viktor, 52, lieutenant of the 66th Mechanized Brigade of the Kyiv Army, by way of introduction. “The war against civilians cannot be explained.”
Viktor is standing in front of the tank that brought him back alive, after his latest rotation in Bakhmut, the strategically important city in
eastern Ukraine that has been at the center of intense fighting. By “civilians” he is actually referring to the enemy troops, who he says are largely untrained conscripts that Russia has thrown into the battle.
Deployed in the Donetsk region since the start of the war, the Ukrainian soldiers of the 66th Brigade lost their commander, Oleh Dehtiarov, in battle last summer. Taking an active part in Ukraine’s counteroffensive in September, during which it regained
large parts of occupied territory, was thus driven by both national duty and personal remembrance.
We are speaking at an undisclosed military base, near the city of Lyman in eastern Ukraine, which was occupied by the Russians for months before they helped liberate it. Today the unit assists infantry in the battles of Avdiivka and Bakhmut.
Viktor calls it “the bird hunt”: if the Russians try to break through the
positions, the artillery units receive a command, and the vehicles advance, striking the enemy army.
Even if Viktor says the socalled “war against civilians” cannot be explained, it may be that he’s remembering the first commandment of those who fight: to force oneself not to be afraid, and when fear appears through the cracks, do your best to hide it.
On the camps of the military base, the snow falls along with the temperatures. Some soldiers chop wood, others move cots for the reservists who are coming to take the place of those who did not make it. Someone takes care of the vehicles’ maintenance, others cook.
Everything is always done in pairs or groups, as if they do not want to be alone, because together it is easier not to think about what was left behind, about those who left the base in uniform, alive, and returned inside the black plastic of a body bag.
The worst thing about the old war, he says, is the fear of dying underground, while you’re hiding in your trenched-in tank that is half offensive weapon, and half living den. When the first shot comes, you realize they’ve seen you, they’ve found you, they’re aiming at you, and if there’s not enough time to move the vehicles and run away, you die like that, while hiding in a trench dug in the mud and snow.
After months of unsuccessful attacks, Russian forces began to encircle Bakhmut a month ago. The Wagner Group led an advance toward the highway entering the city from the northeast.
For weeks now, the war there has
been an attrition of men, vehicles and civilian population but also a war of information and lies. Attacks continue. The Russians say they have taken control of the settlements southwest of the city, and the spokesman for the Ukrainian Armed Forces for the Eastern Front denies the taking of Krasna Hora, four kilometers from Bakhmut.
Yevgeny Prighozin, the founder and financier of the Wagner Group that has been pushing toward Bakhmut, had taken capture of the town as a certainty.
In the face of Ukrainian resistance, Prighozin has been forced to deny achievements taken for granted and say that things are not going at all as planned: recently declaring that “Bakhmut will not fall tomorrow, and we will not celebrate in the near future.” It means that the Ukrainian resistance is more tenacious than expected.
Viktor doesn’t call the enemy “soldiers.” He describes Russian troops “people thrown into the bloodbath like cattle,” a few professional soldiers, mostly civilians forced to fight, and then — case in point — “Wagner’s orcs.”
Prighozin desperately wants to proclaim victory here. He visits front lines in uniform, slings weapons, visits soldiers in trenches and military bases, hugs the wounded and rewards fighters. It is always Prigozhin who quickly finds replacements when too many recruits are lost in battle.
That is, recruits to be sent to fight, no matter whether they are used to life in the trenches, trained, or educated in the rules of war or not. Prigozhin is crediting himself with winning the main battles and criticizing those in the Defense Ministry who got the calculations wrong.
As Dara Messicot, a political researcher specializing in defense issues in Russia for the Rand Corporation, points out, “Prigozhin has severely criticized Russian generals, and suggested that the Defense Ministry’s senior leadership is out of touch. He is basically putting himself in the position of someone who wants to become the most important figure leading this war.”
The war there has been an attrition of men, vehicles and civilian population, but also a war of information.
On one side are the Russians who need a victory, and who are also playing a crucial game on this battle over the leadership of the armed forces. On the other side are the Ukrainians who have lost hundreds of soldiers a day in Bakhmut in the bloodiest stages of the battle and are trying to wear down Russian forces at the price of house-tohouse advances.
Assaults that come at great human cost but serve Kyiv’s purpose of not giving in and stalling until new weapons arrive from the allies. The dilemma, just as it was months ago in Severonestk, is how long it is possible to hold out at this human cost or how much more worthwhile it is to save fighters’ lives. Losing it, commanders say, would not be a serious defeat militarily at this
point, but it would be a heavy blow to the morale of Kyiv’s troops and risk reinvigorating the Russian push after months of defeats.
At Severodonetsk, the Ukrainians decided to retreat and safeguard lives; today, however, Bakhmut, the fortress, though attacked from all sides, does not fall.
Russian troops are dying by the thousands on the Eastern Front, and the numbers will be difficult to clarify. The British Defense Ministry has stressed the “limited operational value” of taking Bakhmut.
Even should the city fall, its capture would not be decisive for any further Russian push into the Donbass. The battle is thus now more symbolic than strategic.
Translated by GinevraLosing the city would be a heavy blow to the morale of Kyiv’s troops.
FalcianiVolodymyr Zelensky Visiting Frontline Soldiers in Bakhmut.— Source: Ukraine Presidency/ZUMA
A healthy dose of cynicism and short cuts allows parts for weapons and other technology to still make their way into Russia. Independent Russian-language media Vazhnyye Istorii traces the way both Moscow and much of the rest of the world circumvent export bans.
By Maria ZholobovaWhen Western countries imposed sanctions on Russia after the invasion of Ukraine, exporting Western technologies to Russia was effectively banned — at least, on paper.
But through a web of third parties, Russia is still finding ways to dodge the sanctions and import crucial components for weapons and other technology.
In the United States, personal sanctions prohibit American citizens and companies from doing business
with specific Russian people and businesses. Other sanctions prevent them from doing business with entire industries. Secondary sanctions may be imposed on nonUS companies caught violating US prohibitions.
A special permit is required for any export of high-tech products to Russia. These are only issued in exceptional circumstances, if ever. The largest manufacturers of microelectronics — Analog Devices, Texas Instruments and others — have all ceased commercial activities in Russia.
Still, products made by these
companies are increasingly being found in the remains of Russian drones and missiles.
Components continue to enter Russia through a chain of intermediary firms in different countries. For example, an American company can buy them from a manufacturer, then sell them to a Chinese company, which can in turn sell them to a Russian intermediary who is not formally connected with the defense complex — who will then transfer the goods to the arms manufacturer.
In Russian independent media site Vazhnye Istorii (“Important
stories”), defense expert Eric Woods at the James Martin Center for Nonproliferation Studies explores how these schemes work.
It is important to distinguish between sanctions and export controls. People often think they are one and the same, and in terms of their functions this is true, but sanctions and export controls use different mechanisms to control goods. There are many overlapping rules, and these rules are written in such a way that even Americans themselves can’t understand them.
If I am a U.S. citizen who wants to export something to Russia, I need to check if the goods are under export control. All goods subject to export control are dual-use goods (i.e. they can be used for civilian and military purposes), but not all dualuse goods are under export control. Here is the first confusion.
Consumer electronics are not subject to export controls. But it all depends on the context and who the end user will be. If my grandmother ordered electronics, it would be legal, but if the buyer was a Russian military enterprise, it wouldn’t be.
We have many sanctions, but there is not enough understanding of how they work. The laws are so complex that it is difficult for customs officers at the airport or port to understand them all.
Smugglers take advantage of this. It is by no means difficult to circumvent sanctions.
If the military or intelligence agencies want to get components that are under export control, they usually get them through intermediaries. It is often a difficult and laborious process, and it makes goods more expensive, but if customers have the
time, energy and resources, they’ll do it.
American companies can easily say, “We don’t ship to Russia, we don’t ship to Iran, we don’t ship to North Korea.” And it’s true, they don’t. But their clients can, and often do.
The manufacturer wants to make money, not spend millions of dollars vetting every customer or business that walks in. When someone comes in and says, “Here’s a million dollars, I need a product,” you don’t ask questions.
One American company, for example, sold computer equipment directly to a Russian company that makes launchers for the S-400 anti-aircraft missile system. The company’s compliance department told their bosses: “We can’t do that; this is a rocket factory in Moscow.” But they ignored the warning because the order was a big one.
weapons.
It is difficult to verify everything when there are so many intermediaries involved. But companies should and need to ask questions.
The scheme of using third countries to access goods under export control has been operating since the Soviet era. There are documents and studies from the 1970s and 1980s that the Soviet Union received a great deal of computer equipment and electronics from the United States.
Back in the days of Stalin, an international coordinating committee for export control was created, which was supposed to ensure that dual-use technologies did not get into the USSR. However, third countries such as Finland traded with both sides, undermining the goals of the committee.
Until last February 24, there were many cases when prohibited goods were imported, for example, through Finland or Estonia. Today, of course, they don’t cross the border — Estonia and Finland are now desperately trying to make their borders with Russia more secure. But instead, we see attempts in places like Taiwan and Hong Kong to do similar thirdparty deals with Russia.
The Washington Post reported another example in October last year of an American company making hypersonic missiles for the Pentagon. They sold the technology to one company in the U.S., that company to another, and now that technology is being used in Chinese
Many studies show that the Russian defense complex has been in total disorder since 2014. Sanctions work. There’s no doubt about it. The cases of circumvention of sanctions that we become aware of are the success stories of smugglers.
Of course, there are businesspeople who use sanctions as an opportunity and supply millions of dollars worth of military components to Russia. But are these supplies sufficient?
Of course, there are businesspeople who use sanctions as an opportunity.
The United States would need the help of China, Malaysia, Indonesia and all countries that produce sanctioned components to combat sanctions violators. But it’s almost impossible. Why would China want to help America fight Russia?
It would cost a vast amount of money to move the production of microchips to more loyal countries. It is more economically profitable to produce components in Malaysia, Indonesia, and other countries than on home turf. Only the most modern components are made in the U.S.
Secondary sanctions should be of concern to smaller countries doing business with Russia. If I were a Taiwanese company, I would be worried. Americans have a lot of money and they are willing to spend it in Taiwan. From an economic standpoint, it would be terrible to lose the American market. Mainland Chinese companies might be worried too, but it depends on who they consider their main customer.
Missiles hit civilians when you use inaccurate weapons in populated areas. Missiles, especially those designed and built during the Cold War, are not as accurate as the military claims them to be, even though they have been upgraded under Putin. This may be due to inattention, lack of information about the target, for example, when using old Soviet maps, or due to political pressure to launch. We have seen this multiple times already during the war.
The Americans have a so-called combat damage assessment — when the military checks whether they hit what they wanted. Whether this occurs to the same extent in Russia remains to be seen, but if these reports are falsified, like others are, in order to tell authorities
what they want to hear, this is very bad. In this sense, the human factor plays a greater role than electronics.
But even so, if Russia were to lose Western tech, they would be left with 1970s era weapons.
Even in the time of the USSR, Russian microchips lagged far behind American tech and often copied the developments of the U.S. instead of creating their own chips. I can’t see Putin, especially now, being able to change that.
Even when the West began to impose sanctions back in 2014, it seems that Russian arms manufacturers did not replace foreign components in their weapons. Whilst a huge amount of money was allocated to the defense complex to solve this problem, the money simply disappeared.
As for the replacement of Western components with Chinese ones: many US chips are part of complex supply chains involving companies that have offices in China. They are already Chinese to some extent. Whether the Russian defense
complex will be able to switch to solely Chinese-designed electronics is unclear.
Russia’s capabilities for the production of microelectronics are decades behind even a country like Malaysia. The equipment needed to set up your own production is big, heavy, hard to hide and hard to smuggle in. Maybe Russia will be able to buy used equipment. Or maybe the Chinese semiconductor market will move forward. Whatever the case, Putin has had two decades to build the semiconductor industry — and his attempts were about as successful as his war.
China has invested billions in multiple African countries in order to expand its influence. But both sides have been quietly scaling back the relationship, as Africans resent one-sided deals and China fears defaults on debt.
By Christian Putsch and Christina zur NeddenJOHANNESBURG — In December, Kenya’s new president, William Ruto, broke a taboo that pertains to pretty much every Chinese loan agreement with African governments: the secrecy clause.
Ruto’s predecessor Uhuru Kenyatta had refused to publish contracts for billion-dollar projects, citing clauses to that effect. But that caused so much public anger that Ruto made disclosure a campaign promise.
The ominous details relate to the construction of an entirely overpriced rail line from Nairobi to the coastal city of Mombasa worth $3.6 billion. The case explains why Beijing is so keen to keep such contracts confidential.
There was no legitimate construction tender, and the deal also stipulates that almost all “goods, technologies and services” will be sourced from China. Duty-free, mind you. The local economy was thus only allowed to play a minor role in the largest infrastructure project in Kenya’s history. Any arbitration proceedings may only take place in China, so protests by domestic companies
would probably be futile anyway.
The incident shows that China’s relations with Africa are by no means as rosy as both sides have been keen to portray them. Yes, China remains the continent’s most important trading partner, still accounting for the most foreign direct investment there by far — despite the recently announced U.S.-Africa investment offensive.
In late February, Beijing will reaffirm its presence through a joint military exercise with Russia off the coast of South Africa, which had previously
rejected a joint military exercise with the United States.
But it is not only in Kenya that resentment against the rotten deals has been growing for some time.
As recently as 2016, Chinese loan commitments had peaked at nearly $30 billion. In 2019, however, according to the China Africa Research Initiative at the Johns Hopkins School of Advanced International Studies, they had fallen to less than $10 billion, and in the first pandemic year, the value even collapsed to $2 billion. At the same time, direct investment has stagnated since 2018.
What lies behind this withdrawal?
Some are problems in China that were exacerbated even further by Beijing’s zero-COVID policy: slowdown in economic growth, a real estate bubble and a demographic crisis due to the birth rate declining for the first time in decades.
Under the New Silk Road infrastructure program, China has granted loans totaling more than $1 trillion to nearly 150 developing and emerging economies, making it the world’s largest creditor. But nearly 60% of China’s foreign loans are currently held by countries in financial distress, compared with just 5% in 2010. China has also slowed its lending because it fears it will not get its money back.
Many countries in Africa had expected more help from Beijing in dealing with their current debt crisis. For example, Ethiopia was reportedly forgiven only a few million dollars of its debt during a visit by Foreign Minister Qin Gang in January — merely a symbolic gesture. Several infrastructure projects on the continent are on hold; Ethiopia’s Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed, like Ruto in Kenya, blames the previous administration for the
unsustainable loan agreements with China.
Only in December did Djibouti announce that it could no longer repay its debt to Beijing. This is noteworthy for another reason, since China established its first military base in Africa there in 2017, just a few kilometers from a U.S. military base. That makes the terms of a debt default relevant to Washington as well.
Truth be told, trade relations between Beijing and other regions are also a cause for concern. Several emerging and developing countries in Asia are heavily indebted to China. Sri Lanka is an example, where an artificial port city was built off the coast with Chinese money, which was supposed to become a flourishing business center.
country, via a 99-year lease.
Such scenarios help explain why there are always rumors that individual African countries could face similar problems. In 2018, for example, the Zambian government denied that the airport in Lusaka built by China could be handed over as collateral for unpaid debts.
Turkey stepping in
As early as April 2020, then Tanzanian President John Magufuli (who died in 2021) described a $10 billion Chinese port project signed by his predecessor as an undertaking that could only be accepted by a “drunkard.” There has also been open criticism of Chinese construction from Ghana and Congo.
Uganda, meanwhile, is relying on Turkey as a partner in the construction of a railroad line that was started by China. Rwanda had also already switched from China to Turkey in the construction of a convention center a few years ago.
“China generally cannot provide the same level of investment as in the past,” says Jakkie Cilliers, of the South African think tank Institute for Security Studies. “It no longer runs current account surpluses, economic growth has slowed. There is also growing concern about the ability of African governments to service their debts.”
But the plan did not work out, and is practically a ghost town. An international airport in the town of Mattala is considered the “world’s emptiest airport.” Both projects, financed by China with high-interest loans, drove up Sri Lanka’s foreign debt: 20% is due to China.
And after Sri Lanka failed to service its debt, China took over the Hambantota port, the largest in the
But Cilliers believes that the recently announced U.S. investment offensive in Africa, in particular, will ensure that the continent becomes once again a higher priority for China.
Translated by Irene CaselliChina cannot provide the same level of investment as in the past.
Venezuela’s first lady, Cilia Flores, is one of the country’s chief power brokers and a consummate wheeler-dealer who, with the help of relatives, runs a voracious enterprise dubbed the Flower Shop.
By Mauricio RubioOne of the clearest signs of tyranny in Venezuela has to be the pervasive nepotism and behind-the-scenes power enjoyed by President Nicolás Maduro’s wife, Cilia Flores de Maduro.
In Venezuela, it’s said that Flores works in the shadows but is somehow “always in the right
place,” with one commentator observing that she is constantly “surrounded by an extensive web of collaborators” — including relatives, with whom she has forged a clique often dubbed the floristería, or the “Flower Shop,” which is thought to control every facet of Venezuelan politics.
She is certainly Venezuela’s most powerful woman.
From modest origins, Flores is 68 years old and a lawyer by training.
She began her ascent as defense attorney for the then lieutenantcolonel Hugo Chávez, who was jailed after his failed attempt at a coup d’état in 1992. She offered him her services and obtained his release, which won her his unstinting support for the rest of his life.
Flores met her husband, who is 10 years younger, when he was a bodyguard to Chávez. They soon became inseparable, but only formalized their relationship in 2013, the year Maduro became president.
Nine years before her marriage to Maduro, Flores became the first woman to head the National Assembly, which fueled her growing influence over the ruling socialist party PSUV — not to mention her flourishing nepotism.
In 2007, she rigged an examination process to fill 90 parliamentary offices with her own people. The beneficiaries included individuals who hadn’t even sat for the exams, others who had their grades inflated as well as people barred by the Ombudsman’s office from holding public positions.
The lucky individuals included 40 relatives and friends of Flores. The exams jury also included a cousin and a daughter-in-law of Flores: the former approved the hiring of at least six relatives, and the latter approved the hiring of her husband, mother and four more relatives.
Flores was naturally accused of nepotism, which she calmly dismissed as political attacks.
She said she was proud to have her family serve in the assembly, “most of whose members are revolutionary men and women.”
After anti-corruption NGO Transparencia Venezuela denounced the favoritism, and following media reports, Flores called journalists covering the story “pen mercenaries” and had them thrown out of parliament — which she has rarely bothered to attend. Over several legislative terms she has become one of the country’s leading parliamentarians in terms of rates of absenteeism.
Perhaps the scandal most harmful to her concerned two of her nephews, charged with smuggling
cocaine into the U.S. Arrested in late 2015, Efraín Campos Flores and Francisco Flores de Freitas were convicted and jailed in the U.S. Their aunt maintains that they have been kidnapped.
And yet, a recording has one of them admit to “making money for many years,” while another recording has the same nephew admit to earning $5 million for an operation.
Management and Services in parliament, when Maduro was speaker. Maduro took him along when he became foreign minister in 2006, and then, when he became vice president in 2012, put him in charge of the vice-president’s office.
When his ‘uncle’ became president, Malpica took over important financial positions: first as deputy-treasurer, then director-general of Bandes (the Economic and Social Development Bank of Venezuela) and lastly as Treasurer of the Nation. There, he handled the national budget, and other financial and credit funds that were never audited, with little information provided about them. His cousins’ trafficking fiasco somewhat ruined his assiduity in keeping a low profile.
Over just a few days in 2015, Malpica, as one of the directors at PDVSA, registered a dozen or so family firms with limited startup capital and vague corporate objectives, all in his and his parents’ names.
The suspect is also recorded complaining to a U.S. Drug Enforcement Administration official that the Flores “clan” wasn’t as efficient as the media claimed. Apparently, he had asked his cousin, Erick Malpica Flores, who is a senior financial officer at the state oil firm PDVSA, to approve payments to particular firms to which the PDVSA owed money. That would have earned him a commission, but his cousin refused.
Despite not always helping out, Malpica Flores is the first lady’s favorite nephew.
Malpica, 40, is trained in marketing. He began his political career in 2005 as director-general of Administrative
One of the reasons for the move may have been to be able to open multiple bank accounts and take advantage of loopholes in exchange rate controls.
The range of activities, brazenness and deft versatility of the MaduroFlores “flower shop” makes the indiscretions of the cheekiest of first ladies elsewhere and from the past seem like child’s play.
When his ‘uncle’ became president, Malpica took over important financial positions.
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Translated by Alidad Vassigh
As more young people in Taiwan use Chinese social media, drawn to the fun and glitzy elements of life on mainland China, they need to learn to distinguish real life from propaganda.
By Bosong XuTAIPEI — Su is a high school student from Northern Taiwan, who spends hours every day watching short videos from Douyin, the Chineseexclusive version of TikTok.
A recent trend on the platform is short sketches based on similar scripts, and he said he is addicted to watching these videos. “I had to set up a mainland China Apple ID to download Douyin, the videos there are funnier and trendier (than
TikTok).”
Su is hardly the only Douyin fan in Taiwan. According to the DIGITAL Taiwan survey released by digital platform analytics firm We are social and KEPIOS in early 2022, there are approximately 4.16 million active Douyin users in Taiwan, with an average growth rate of 3.5% per quarter. Of these, the proportion of young users is 38%.
Taiwan’s READr 2021 survey of social media usage among high school students found that while
Facebook and Instagram are still the most popular social media platforms, Chinese apps such as Douyin are quickly catching up.
For teens, the content recommendation mechanism of Douyin-TikTok provides a constant stream of fresh content. Su said the fact that different content pops up on the Douyin’s homepage leaves him never bored, and he often shares videos with friends, following them or having them follow him on Douyin.
The inextricable ties of Chinese social software, such as TikTok, to Chinese officials have always been questionable. Reuters, citing China’s Enterprise Credit Information Publicity System, points out that the main investor in China’s ByteDance, of which TikTok is a part, is coowned by three state institutions, one of which is directly founded by China’s Ministry of Finance.
Moreover, FBI Director Christopher Wray said in November 2022 at a House Homeland Security Committee hearing on “worldwide threats” that TikTok was controlled by the Chinese government and that the app’s algorithms determined what content users would see next.
While the international community still harbors doubts about Chinese social software, the global population using TikTok has exceeded one billion. In the face of this “China fever”, the Taiwan Ministry of Digital Development, which was established in August 2022, announced that it would ban the downloading and use of Chinese social software on public sector devices, citing concerns about endangering national communication and information security.
Yun, currently a third-year student at Taiwan University, is a heavy TikTok user, spending around 16 hours a week on it, saying is a way to absorb the latest trending news. What he sees on TikTok is not Chinese pop culture, but trends in Europe and the U.S.. He also watches knowledgebased content, such as legal content and Excel tutorials, and has recently discovered that the BBC is on TikTok, pushing out news and information.
He said he was taught to reject
Chinese culture because of his family’s anti-China stance. As his mother would tell him “don’t use things from China”, he would not use TikTok in front of her.
Xiaohongshu, described as “China’s answer to Instagram”, was founded in 2013. It has a strong presence on teenagers’ mobile phones for its clever user experience: as the user receives “personalized” short videos and posts, they could be learning the latest makeup trends, or see recommendations of restaurants and styles from influencers.
The content is mostly related to beauty and online celebrities. Taiwan’s Xiaohongshu users are mostly female, with women accounting for 66% of overall users according to a survey of Taiwanese Android users conducted by Opview’s Community Word of Mouth database.
The use of Xiaohongshu by Taiwanese teens is closely linked to the rise of Chinese film and pop culture. Singing competitions, group talent shows and TV dramas are all high-profile, high-cost productions that attract many Taiwanese singers to participate or act as mentors, as well as audiences of all ages. Seeing the influence of these programmes, Xiaohongshu has been a frequent
title sponsor and has used this to gain more exposure.
Although many people initially downloaded Xiaohongshu to follow Chinese celebrities, popular culture, or for fashion and beauty tips, its content expands further. From amazing makeup tutorials, short videos featuring idol stars, comparisons of household appliances, to notes on study materials, Xiaohongshu offers a wide range of topics.
Cai, a high school sophomore in Taipei, started using Xiaohongshu in 2018. After watching a Chinese talent show that featured ads from Xiaohongshu, she downloaded the app as the contestants would also post on it. She was soon attracted to the homepage recommendations with different pages such as “food”, “handmade”, and “reading”. The location-based browsing could also help to find nearby places to eat. Cai says she prefers Xiaohongshu because its categorization is intuitive and allows her to find the content she wants to see more efficiently.
The current popularity of Chinese social media among Taiwanese
The use of Xiaohongshu by Taiwanese teens is closely linked to the rise of Chinese film and pop culture.
teenagers has not only worried some adults. Some students from the National Chengchi University have also written an article expressing their concern about the use of Chinese social media by their peers, arguing that this reflects the reduced political sensitivity of this generation, ignoring China’s subtle influence on their lifestyle habits and identity.
The Initium interviewed several Taiwanese teenagers, and the influence from Chinese social media seemed evident in their lives. One girl said that when she reads about the university life of the protagonists in Chinese novels, she can’t help but think: “Wouldn’t it be cool if I could go to their university one day?”
Many are also attracted to the idea of going into the entertainment industry in China, while some TikTok videos on China’s tourist sites also inspired many to want to travel to China.
Even so, these teenagers identified themselves as “Taiwanese” without hesitation, saying Taiwan was the only country they identified with, despite their interests in the popular culture from mainland China. Being born and raised in Taiwan seemed to be the crucial reason as to why they identified as Taiwanese.
But facing the skepticism against China’s social platforms, these teenagers have their own ideas. First, they make a clear distinction between the virtual world and the real world. Even though he is addicted to Douyin videos that are “made in China and about China”,
Su says they are only a pastime for him, and they do not harm his Taiwanese identity. Meanwhile, Cai disagrees that using Chinese social media and mainland Chinese slang is equal to being Chinese. “We also use Line, Instagram and Twitter, and that does not mean we are Korean or American!”
Apart from Douyin, Taiwanese TV channels and foreign media are also sources of information for these teenagers. Some might not follow the news as much, but they are somewhat aware of current events from talking to their families at mealtimes. Even though there is inevitably a lot of pro-Beijing content on Chinese social media, it is clear from what the teenagers say that they are wary of what they are being exposed to.
As Su said, when videos of Chinese military drills and praise for “the great motherland” appear on his Douyin, he realizes that they might be China’s propaganda campaigns.
They are aware that they might need to “show loyalty” to the official political position.
Even though it is through the internet that Taiwanese teenagers are able to get close to Chinese pop culture, it is also through the internet that their perception of the Chinese government’s authoritarianism and lack of freedom is ingrained, and they can notice the huge gap between Chinese internet users and Taiwanese people’s perceptions of current affairs at certain times.
For those who wish to go into the entertainment industry in China, they are also aware that they might need to “show loyalty” to the official political position as some Taiwanese artists now. When they notice censorship and a crackdown of information, they are angry and also confused: “Why aren’t the Chinese angry about this?”
One girl told The Initium she thought her Chinese peers online are “lacking their own thoughts and values, and would just stand by to see things they appreciate disappear (when they are censored).”
These teenagers, ranging in age from high school to university students, have one thing in common when it comes to China: “the government and the people do not mix”. They may like Chinese food, attractions, stars, or novels and comics, but whether they learn about the Chinese government’s actions through the news, or learn about the difference between Chinese and Taiwanese feelings about news events on social media, the teenagers are developing their own opinions about China and their world view from their lives both online and offline.
As for the government in Taipei, they are aware of the influence of Chinese media on Taiwanese youth, but not too worried. Professor Luo, an expert at communications and media, says that it is the real-life experience that makes a difference when Taiwanese teens face information and propaganda from China.
“They grow up breathing the air of freedom in Taiwan, and are becoming citizens with voting rights. As long as we have the values of freedom and human rights, TikTok videos won’t drag them away.” But Luo also acknowledged the risks of privacy issues when using those apps.
“Taiwan must also have its own cultural products in order to compete (with China).” He explained that if Taiwan is facing a cultural unification war, the only way to stand a chance of winning is to face up to it, actively export its own culture, and cooperate with the regulation of information security.
Translated by Dan Wu
Fans of Star Trek live in a Golden Age where old and new series are readily available. As one hardcore Trekkie points out, the franchise is a reminder of the similarities and differences between pseudoscience and science fiction.
By Carlos Orsi-Essay-
For my Trekkie part, I’m still a fan of the old ones: I still remember the disappointment when a Brazilian TV channel stopped airing the original series, and then there was a wait (sometimes years) until someone else decided to show it.
Living deep in São Paulo, Brazil in the 1990s, it was also torturous for me when “Star Trek: Deep Space Nine” premiered on a station whose signal was very bad in my city.
I don’t remember when I saw the original cast for the first time, but I remember that when Star Trek made the transition to the cinema in 1979, in Robert Wise’s film, the protagonists James Kirk (William Shatner), Spock (Leonard Nimoy), Leonard McCoy (DeForest Kelley), Montgomery Scott (James Doohan) and the Starship Enterprise were already old acquaintances.
And I was only eight years old. Nowadays, given the scarcity of time and attention that are the hallmarks of the contemporary world, I limit myself to following spinoffs Picard and Strange New Worlds and reviewing films made for
cinema,
So, when a cinema close to my house decided to show the 40th anniversary of The Wrath of Khan (originally released in 1982), I rushed to secure a ticket. And there in the middle of the film, I had a small epiphany: the Star Trek Universe is pseudoscientific!
This realization does not necessarily represent a problem: contrary to what many imagine, science fiction exists to make you think and have fun, not to prepare for a national test).
Yet in a franchise that has always
made a lot of effort to maintain an aura of scientific bona fides (Isaac Asimov was a consultant on the first film, and the book The Physics of Star Trek has a preface by Stephen Hawking!), the finding was a bit of a shock.
And what made me jump out of the chair?
The description of Project Genesis, the “McGuffin” (being that the “treasure” or “object of desire”) around which the films The Wrath of Khan and The Search for Spock revolve. I’d certainly heard and read the same description dozens of times, watching the movie or the adaptations of the script for literature and comics, but it was only now, in 2022, that the implications, shall we say, clicked.
The project is defined, on the screen of the cinema, by the character Dr. Carol Markus (portrayed by actress Bibi Besch) as: “A process by which molecular structure is rearranged at the subatomic level, in life-giving matter of equal mass.”
This talk implies some kind of fundamental distinction, at the subatomic level, between “ordinary” matter and “life-giving” matter. That is vitalism – the doctrine where there is some essential difference between any molecule and a molecule that is part of the body of a living being – a pseudo-scientific belief.
To be fair, both, the film’s original screenplay and the novelization by the great science fiction writer Vonda McIntyre, heroically try to escape this implication. In the script (available online), we read that Genesis is:
“A process by which the molecular structure of any type of matter can be restructured – transformed –into anything else of equal mass.”
McIntyre’s book, on the other hand, spends three pages describing the process and scrupulously avoids suggesting any kind of essential difference between living and inert matter. However, the canon is defined by what appears on the screen. So, we are trapped in a vitalistic (fictional) Universe.
This is not, of course, the only point where Star Trek’s reality diverges from ours, incorporating, as established facts, concepts that, in our Universe, are pseudo-scientific.
After my mild shock with The Wrath of Khan, I was also reminded that Star Trek’s reality is dualistic — that is, there is a fundamental distinction between body and mind. Personality is not a product of the brain, but something that can exist outside it: this is how Vulcans manage to transfer and preserve their “katras”, defined, in the film The Search for Spock, as “the true essence, everything that it is not of the body”.
And, of course, the franchise has always zealously embraced the theme of astronaut gods. They appear explicitly in the original series’ second season episode “Who Mourns for Adonais?”, in the animated
series episode “How Sharper Than a Serpent’s Tooth” and permeate all seasons of all products in the franchise, marked by the recurring appearance of forces omnipotent or transcendental aliens who end up being confused with (or compared to) deities.
There is even a sly quote, attributed to science fiction writer Harlan Ellison, saying that the creator of Star Trek, Gene Roddenberry, actually “had only one idea in his life”: “The Enterprise meets God, and is God crazy or is God a child”.
This particular theme has become so deeply integrated into the series’ canon that it has become the authoritative explanation for why most intelligent alien species encountered on the Enterprise’s travels look like earthlings wearing makeup: humanoid DNA was seeded across the galaxy billions of years ago by a mysterious alien species.
This astonishing fact is presented in an episode of the sixth season of the series The Next Generation, “The Chase”, and in scientific terms, it is one of the greatest instances of silliness ever seen in the series.
Are
Basically, it assumes a kind of biological essentialism tied to the DNA molecule and a kind of directed evolution that has more in common with biblical creationism than with science and evolution.
In general, the Star Trek writers seem to have been concerned (at least a little) with giving some veneer of scientific respectability to their fictional use of physics (folding space, black holes, wormholes, time travel, etc.), but left fantasy runs wild when the subject is biology and evolution.
Again, there’s nothing essentially wrong with that: science fiction is not scientific diffusion. But I know some evolutionary biologists who got frustrated – felt a bit betrayed –after watching “The Chase”.
This episode in particular is not limited to playing or extrapolating on top of scientific concepts (in this case, evolution and genetic inheritance), but throws everything out the window and reinforces misconceptions that are very present in common sense, such as
that intelligent life is the “goal” of evolution.
Of course, none of this is exclusive of Star Trek. The relationship between science fiction and pseudoscience is old and complex. So old and complex, in fact, that there’s even a great book on the subject, Pseudoscience and Science Fiction by Andrew May, published by academic publisher Springer.
Science fiction as we know it today, in literature, comics and cinema, still draws heavily from the traditions and vocabularies established in magazines published in the first half of the last century in the United States. Editors who helped shape the genre, such as Ray Palmer (of “Amazing Stories”) and John W. Campbell (“Astounding Science Fiction”), were also enthusiastic promoters of pseudoscience (ufology in Palmer’s case, dianetics in Campbell’s).
Both forms dialogue with the public
perception of science – what non-experts think science is. The difference is that science fiction presents itself as fiction, while pseudoscience is dishonest, an imposter. But, in this dialogue, they also end up talking to each other a lot and exchanging themes and ideas.
Much pseudoscience only seems convincing because it is made up of ingredients that science fiction has “normalized” in the public consciousness.
None of this, of course, reduces the charm of fiction (as fiction) or makes me like Star Trek any less. By the way, I’m waiting for a free night to rewatch the fifth film in the cinematic series – the one where Captain Kirk meets God.
• Debate explodes around the rewriting of Roald Dahl books: Critics are accusing the British publisher and estate of Roald Dahl’s classic children’s books of censorship after it updated works such as the BFG, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and Matilda to make them more acceptable to modern readers. Some passages relating to weight, mental health, gender and race that were considered offensive and stigmatizing have been changed, sparking a debate in the literature world and beyond, with personalities such as Booker prize-winning author Salman Rushdie criticizing the choice.
• Famed manga artist Matsumoto Leiji dies at 85: Japanese manga and anime creator Leiji Matsumoto, whose real name was Akira Matsumoto, has died aged 85. In a statement, Studio Leijisha said he died of acute heart failure on Feb. 13. Matsumoto was known for his epic science fiction sagas, including Space Pirate Captain Harlock, Galaxy Express 999, Queen Emeraldas and Space Battleship Yamato. His work often included anti-war themes and emotional storylines.
• Dubai’s Museum of the Future welcomes one million visitors in its first year: The Museum of the Future has welcomed one million visitors from 163 countries since opening one year ago. It has a series of experiences created by designers, artists and filmmakers that combine elements of traditional exhibitions and immersive theater to present visitors with a future they can explore and interact with. Since its opening, the museum has won 10 international awards and was listed by National Geographic as one of the 14 most beautiful museums in the world.
• McCartney & Stones collab: Paul McCartney is set to feature on a new song by the Rolling Stones. While a Variety report from earlier this week stated that both McCartney and Ringo Starr would play on the new Stones record slated for release later this year, a representative for the Stones clarified that McCartney plays bass on one new song, and that Starr has not been collaborating with the band.
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• Nigerians will head to the polls on Saturday to elect a new president to replace outgoing President Muhammadu Buhari.
• After months of stalling, Hungary’s Parliament will start discussions on whether Budapest will support Sweden and Finland’s application to NATO on March 1, with a final vote on the issue expected in the following week. The Nordic countries need support from all 30 members of the Alliance for their application to be approved and only Hungary and Turkey’s signatures are still missing.
• Twitter CEO Elon Musk has said the social media platform’s algorithm will be made open source next week.