Showing posts with label europe. Show all posts
Showing posts with label europe. Show all posts

Wednesday, April 30, 2025

You Get What You Need

Bay of Kotor, Montenegro


As we rounded the boot of Italy, I cleared my plate of mostly Mediterranean-style grilled vegetables — eggplant, bell pepper, zucchini, tomato, all with visible sear marks but barely seasoned — and went back for another. I wasn’t sure if I was still hungry, but I heaped this fresh plate, still warm from the dishwasher, with more vegetables, cheeses, focaccia, cured meats. They made a real effort to offer some food representative of the region we were sailing through.

And to be honest, I could have eaten more.

They weren’t empty calories. Most of the food on our cruise was acceptable, if you ignored the “soft tortillas” that had been sitting under a heat lamp for so long they’d baked into a hard mass, the sugar-free iced tea that tasted like dirt or the watered-down coffee with nowhere near enough caffeine. You can get real coffee on a cruise ship, but you have to pay for it.

And yet, even with attempts at healthy choices, I just kept feeling hungry. I ate and ate, and wanted to eat some more. I could have just about anything I wanted, but none of it quite filled me up.

Talking about a Mediterranean cruise might seem like an odd choice for a Taiwan-focused blog, but I do think it’s relevant. Lao Ren Cha is intentionally named to represent a very slow brewing process, a take-your-time opening of the tea leaves: I’ve lived in this country for almost two decades, I am mostly self-taught in Mandarin (not perfectly, but well enough), I’ve visited every inhabited outlying island and spent time in every county on the Taiwan mainland, but I can’t say I fully and deeply understand Taiwan. There’s always more to learn.

My husband and I travel this way as well, or try to. My dream vacation is to find a tiny slice of a place and explore it as deeply as time will allow. I want at least two full days in any given city, even the “boring” ones. In fact, that’s usually not enough. Two weeks just for eastern Java? About the same for Georgia? Two months in Turkey? All wholly insufficient.

So why take a cruise stopping in five countries over ten days — Italy, Malta, Greece, Montenegro and Croatia? Would that not be far too little time in any one place?

We did it because it was the best way to organize a family trip with my in-laws, who prefer cruises, and my brother and sister-in-law, who don’t mind them. The in-laws have traveled our way (over land, spending more time in each place) more than once to spend time with us. It’s our turn to try their way. I was happy to do it. I still am. It might also be our last trip before WWIII or the resource wars break out. 


The port calls were indeed too quick, though. In and out, Sicily in a day. Pompeii in half a day. Crowds pouring in, making destinations more unpleasant than they needed to be. I got the feeling most of the places we visited were a lot more pleasant after we left. Yes, we -- I'm not better than the other visitors.

I can’t say the tea leaves opened for any one destination.

I haven’t disliked taking a cruise, though. It’s easy to hop on a high soapbox or higher horse and say cruises are always terrible, or aren’t really traveling, or look like miserable trips for miserable people. It’s easy to be a travel bougie and think that makes you better than the average tourist, but it doesn’t.

Dubrovnik, Croatia


It took a lot of convincing to get me to go, though. I worried about all sorts of things: where does the poop go? How could the food possibly be good? Isn’t a cruise ship basically a massive environmental disaster? Do they treat the crew well? 

The answers to these questions are complicated (except for the poop -- it's treated and dumped as 'gray water' in the open sea, away from conservation areas).

Environmentally, the fuel needed is questionable at best. It's a lot, but having seen the resources poured into and polliution pouring out of land-based tourist facilities, especially big resorts, cruise ships seem like they actually might be more efficient. No one who travels is entirely innocent, as airplanes are one of the worst polluters as well. If you travel, you pollute. But, there is a case to be made that cruises pollute more than other forms of travel.

Very little food is wasted: we see a lot of the same ingredients in different dishes. There are almost no single-use plastics. If passengers could be convinced to give up bottled water (also a problem in general, and not just with tourists), there would be none. Everything else is paper, wood or recyclable aluminum. 

And the waste? It's not good.

Labor conditions for everyone but officers would generally be considered unacceptable in the West -- more about that later.

Knowing this, we still decided to do the trip. Spending time with family does matter, and with two older travelers who have done things our way on previous trips, it was a trade-off we were willing to make.

What about other people, though?


Chania, Crete


One friend who has money to burn says she prefers them because you’re almost completely disconnected from the world if you don’t buy the overpriced wi-fi package. If she’s on a regular trip, she can’t quite shed her workaholic nature. “But if people are trying to reach me but I’m somewhere between Barbados and Curaçao with no service, there’s not much they can do, and I won’t feel compelled to get any work done,” she once told me.

I agree with this wholeheartedly. We chose not to buy the wi-fi either, thinking a digital detox would do us good. It has: we’re sleeping better, reading more and feeling more relaxed. I don’t even miss being on social media regularly.

It’s also easy to see exactly who cruises are for when, to put it bluntly, you look at who takes them. Our cruise was mostly older people, some families, and many disabled travelers. That is, people who’d spent their fittest years working and saved travel for retirement: anyone can arrange a trip on their own if they really want to, but it gets harder to lug backpacks or suitcases around as one gets older. For disabled travelers, it’s a lot easier to book a trip where you understand the accessibility in advance and won’t be surprised with a set of stairs you can’t climb, a long walk you can’t endure, or a set of meal options you can’t eat.

For others, it’s a way to keep kids happy and entertained — say whatever you want about how you’d parent differently, you don’t actually know what personality or needs your kid is going to have, or how difficult some kids can be until you try to travel with them. Another friend of mine did the full Mediterranean rigmarole because he and his wife wanted to see everything, they had plenty of money but not a lot of time, and their pre-teen son wasn’t interested in much of it. Cruise ships have options for situations like that.



Yet another friend who occasionally does cruises geared at families where one member has autism. It’s one way to travel while ensuring a predictable environment that may minimize, say, the chance of a meltdown.

Then there are the travelers who want a floating hotel room with excellent service that moves around, so they can visit lots of places. That, to be honest, is one of the most appealing draws of a cruise. You can unpack and stay unpacked. Also, to be blunt: the cocktails are very good and they don’t skimp. 



Mt. Aetna, Sicily

And yes, there are the ones who have no special circumstances but want to say they’ve traveled but also desire it to be as safe and sanitized as possible: food they know they’ll eat, entirely predictable bus trips, services they know they’ll have access to. I know many ‘intrepid traveler’ types (the ones who call themselves “travelers, not tourists” without an ounce of self-reflection) who would dismiss this final group as unworthy of the beauty of travel, but honestly, that’s unkind. You really never know who a person is inside, or why they’ve chosen the safe option, or what experience might open them up to some new possibility. A lot of these ‘I am the very best kind of traveler’ folks might try to practice the non-judgmentalism they preach.


Still, I felt a bit out of place on what is essentially a massive floating Disney World where every staff member is helpful and friendly, and constantly asks if you’re having a good time. I always felt like I had to say it was great — magical, amazing, wonderful — even when it wasn’t. 


Pompeii was a hot mess: herded through a “cameo factory” that was more of a glorified souvenir shop with a bathroom you could use, then racing through the ruins, seeing this and that, half a fresco maybe, the infamous phallus on the sidewalk pointing to a brothel. With thirty or so people in your group surrounding you, a little radio in your ear so you could hear the guide, sunglasses and a sun hat, every one of my senses was being assaulted and I didn’t really see anything. 

In 2018, I took a train from Rome with my sister. We wandered around Pompeii at our own pace and used Google to figure out what things were. We found entire rooms with the paint intact, and talked about what we were seeing or just interesting things in life. When we felt we’d feasted enough on what Pompeii had to offer, we caught the train back to Napoli for pizza, and then on to Rome.

That 2018 Pompeii visit was better, and it's not close. 

Others on our our said Sorrento was “wonderful” — were streets of souvenir shops all they wanted? Should I judge them for that? I felt I could have really liked the town if I’d gotten an Airbnb outside the “historical” (tourist) district and spent a week, not 90 minutes. 

The tour guide for this trip was a nice guy named Sal who clearly had a nasty cold and wanted nothing more than to be at home drinking restorative hot beverages while watching crappy TV and waiting for the meds to kick in.

“But I have to work, you know,” he said as I handed him a BronkAid.

I’m not sure how I feel about propping up that kind of economy.



                    

Valletta, Malta

Things improved on Mt. Aetna: it’s harder to get to, so a tour made sense, and the crater was truly impressive. What the excursions call “time on your own”, however, usually turned out to be 1-2 hours in a town, not enough to both eat and walk around (lunch is not usually provided, so you really must eat, and often the only eateries you have time to walk to are tourist traps with awful food). In Sorrento we gulped down an overpriced meal and then tried to walk around, only to find street after street of souvenir shops.


In Catania we decided to forgo the whole tourist trap nonsense. We had an hour, and there was no reasonable way to have fun in any city with that little time. I had data on land, so I hopped online and found a highly-rated restaurant where we lunched in a sun-drenched courtyard filled with just the right amount of Sicilian chaos. We had salty olives and horse steaks (yes, horse). I had home-made rigatoni so massive it flopped over, covered in a savory pistachio cream sauce and guanciale. Six euros for a half liter of white wine, and the most delicious little chocolate thing I’ve ever shoved in my face hole.

The salty olives mattered: nothing on the ship is sufficiently salted. I felt like the sultan in that old Arab fable about three daughters, where the third showed her love by bringing her father salt. He thought it was a worthless gift until he tried living without it — he was so miserable, his food so tasteless, that he proclaimed he’d give his kingdom for a few flakes of it.

My kingdom, for some salty fucking olives in the Mediterranean, of all places.

We left stuffed, but had to run back to meet our tour group. That one meal was the only thing we had time for in urban Sicily, and we had to leave before doppio espresso or grappa had even been a possibility. The Sicilian family running the place seemed confused about why we cut out so quickly; they didn’t seem to get a lot of cruise ship daytrippers.

I didn’t get a lot of Sicily, but that meal will stay with me, on my hips and in my mind. On the ship I can get anything I want, but actually spending time on land in a place, I may get what I need.

Once we stopped doing lots of excursions, my experience became dramatically more interesting. Malta and Crete were outstanding, because we were just a family walking around and having fun. That togetherness, not endless group tours, is what I wanted and needed from this trip. The Montenegro bus trip was only somewhat chaotic, and I ended up loving Kotor itself.

One of my favorite things to do in Europe is find a pretty cafe in a quiet lane and watch the world go by over a Campari spritz (an Aperol spritz is fine, but Campari is better). Nobody needs this exactly, but it’s my favorite kind of travel. I can have as many spritzes of any liqueur that I’d like on the ship. I don’t dislike being on the ship. But a Campari spritz at one of the bars isn’t quite the same as sipping it in a travertine-bricked, vine-covered cafe in some corner of Rome. It’s the same drink, but somehow less filling.

The other thing the ship has is a massive staff. They’re from around the world, but mostly the “Global South”, if you like that term. I don’t, but can’t put my finger on why. It reads as condescending. The large proportion seem to be from the Philippines. They all work very hard to keep every guest happy — if you even hint that you want something, the nearest worker will drop everything to help.

This creates a very comfortable experience which makes me a little uncomfortable. These are probably considered very good jobs, and people need jobs. The idealist in me cries out that nobody should have to work as support staff — servants, basically — to keep a gaggle of white, mostly American, travelers happy and sated. The realist in me wonders what exactly would happen if those jobs didn’t exist. It’s easy to say “socialism would fix it!!” but that’s insanely non-specific and none of the praxis for it has worked so far. 


Because a cruise ship is pure distilled capitalism, upsells and “events” mostly designed to entice you to spend money are common. It’s just as infuriating as the low-caffeine coffee.


As for my fellow ship-mates, they are mostly quite friendly. But as we’re being herded out to excursions, I feel like we’re all doughy cattle (yes, myself included) mooing and grunting off to truncated experiences. Some of them talk loudly about how “President Trump is stopping those illegal immigrants from coming over and getting free health care!” I want these people to see more of the world, but they seem happy with just one day. Not even a day: an hour here, an hour there. I doubt they’re learning much.

After Sicily, I soaked in one of the indoor hot tubs for awhile. A woman joined me; I learned quickly that she was Peruvian and spoke only Spanish. I marginally speak something that passes for half-remembered high school Spanish, which I picked up because my French teacher saw potential in my autodidactic language learning. We still chatted for about half an hour, don’t ask me how. This was her first cruise, and she was loving it — she explained that she was a bit shy to try to communicate across language barriers (I am not), but tours were usually available in Spanish, and it allowed her to visit lots of non-Spanish speaking countries.

Doing insane charades (don’t ask how I explain problems like a yeast infection) to negotiate meaning with people with whom I share not even a word doesn’t scare me, but who am I to judge those for whom that’s a real barrier to travel?


On our voyage I also kept running into a small group of well-tailored Filipina lesbians. The maitre’d at the dining room always greeted them with a compliment. After this, I noticed that my shipmates included not just older and disabled travelers, for whom the accessibility options on a cruise are a godsend, but a fairly large cohort of LGBT+ passengers from around the world. I imagine it must soothe some to know that they always have welcoming accommodation as they see the world.

We saw my husband's parents in their most relaxed state, which for them doesn’t include carting luggage to a series of hotels rooms, and it was wonderful. For various reasons, this may be our last family trip for awhile, and I valued it.

I'm also getting a bit of what I want: I started this trip by working remotely from my sister's apartment in London. I got to drink Campari spritzes in various Rome neighborhoods, and again in many other ports. We bookended the cruise with a few days in Rome and a few in Ljubljana, giving us time to see more of both cities. 

My intention is not to lay down a polemic about cruises. It’s not my preferred mode of travel, but I may take one again. There are true upsides: you do see a lot of different places. If you truly want to explore any one of them in-depth, it might plant a seed to encourage you to come back on your own. They go to places I doubt I’d ever make it to on my own, from the Shetland and Orkney islands to the tip of South America. That trip gives you just one day in Ushuaia, but that’s one more day than I’d be likely to get otherwise.

After Sicily, the port calls improved. We wandered around Valletta, Malta, eating rabbit stew for lunch and sending the in-laws back to the ship when they were ready to take a rest. I had my Campari spritz in an outdoor European cafe and followed them. We did much the same in Crete. The scenic drive in Montenegro was a bit of a mess, but everyone enjoyed the prosciutto, cheese and wine. As we approach Croatia, I’m a little sad that it’s coming to an end.

People often ask why I’ve stayed in Taiwan so long. What am I even doing there? I don’t know. All I can say is that it doesn’t always give me what I want, but that slow process of understanding and partially (never entirely) integrating into the local language and culture, and contributing to the best of my ability so that I’m a net positive as a presence there, is the sort of slow-brewed tea that gives me some ineffable thing I need.


On the second to last day of our trip, I was having trouble falling asleep and wanted some hot tea and fresh air. I threw on a sweatshirt and headed up to the buffet, where there was no food at such a late hour, but tea and coffee were always available. I took my mug of herbal tea, perhaps a brewed a little quickly but still satisfying and walked around the exterior upper decks of the ship. People were still hanging out in the closed bars, or watching Jurassic World on the Lido Deck. Different music played in each, some areas lit up, others darkened. A basketball game going on somewhere I couldn’t see. It was a little surreal.

Somewhere in my ramblings, I came across a dark side deck full of stargazers. A crew member had distributed headphones with an audio guide about the constellations. I arrived late and didn’t take one, but standing in a throng of silent shipmates, heads turned to the sky like churchgoers in a late-night Adriatic fever dream, I saw that there is indeed more to do on a cruise ship than eat mediocre food and get herded onto tour buses. I could also sit in the middle of a wine-dark sea and look at the heavens.

I sensed a new dimension of what it means not to judge. This doesn’t extend to the guy who wouldn’t stop lying about “illegals” getting free healthcare, but to everyone else, I get it. And I hope that one guy finds a better emotional support villain to blame for his unhappiness. 


I don’t care about Jurassic World, but you do. That’s great. I think we don’t spend nearly enough time in each destination, but you think the excursions are too long. You want a bus to take you everywhere, or maybe you need that for accessibility reasons. It’s not my first choice, but okay! It doesn’t quite fill me up — I’ve left each destination feeling like I could have spent a week or more there — but it’s also more than empty calories.

It’s easy to extend ‘to each their own’ to people whose choices we can on some level understand. It’s a lot harder when nothing about your preferences align with theirs, or you’ve forgotten that people have constellations of reasons why they don’t want to or simply can’t travel the way people like me might prefer. It's extremely easy when you don't hold yourself accountable for the ways you pollute and tolerate poor working conditions, or worse, think you've solved the problem of ethical consumption in your own life. I promise, you haven't. 


I didn’t always get what I wanted on the Majestic Princess, but even though it’s the exact opposite of slow-growing roots in a new country over decades, I got something I needed there too.



Sunday, September 19, 2021

The EU semiconductor plan: a case study in ignorance about Asia

Years ago, I came across an anecdote on a popular forum for foreigners in Taiwan, about how someone's family members in their home countries would ask the oddest things about life here -- think "do you have peanuts in Taiwan? If you don't have any peanuts there, we can send you some!" My own dearly departed grandmother once asked why I livd there at all, because "it's not a democracy!" This was in late 2006 -- she'd apparently not heard the news that Taiwan had democratized a decade previously.

These little stories illustrating Western ignorance about Asia don't mean much individually. After all, they're just anecdotes. I make no assumptions about any larger trends they might illustrate. But such anecdotes pop up often enough that perhaps it's worth exploring. I'd like to do that with a short case study -- truly, just something I came across and want to talk about.

Today, I woke up to this: 

 


There's a lot to be said here, especially about the hinky economics of this tweet. That's not exactly breaking news, however, so I'll leave it until the end. First, take a look at some of the replies:









(You can read all these under the original link -- I didn't feel like embedding it all, as too much code makes Blogger weird. This is because Blogger is garbage). 

It's just astounding though: there are one or two replies, including my own, which point out that Taiwan, not China, is the semiconductor dominator. 

But for the most part, people who are against "globalization" and "dependence on other countries" seem to think this dependence is entirely in China, because Ms. von der Leyen said "Asia" and apparently Asia is only China, and maybe Japan. And maybe South Korea if you like K-pop. This assumption also conveniently forgets that the biggest competitors for dominance in that industry are the USA, South Korea and Japan...not China. 

Another writer might take this opportunity to say that fearmongering about China is misplaced, and the result is unfair Sinophobia like this. Obviously, I am against Asian hate and would never advocate for discrimination against Chinese people. That shouldn't even need to be said. But highlighting the threat from the Chinese government? That's pretty much right on target. The CCP is actually evil, they are indeed a real threat to the world, and yes, they do genocide. Any country dependent on a highly necessary export from China, or something like tuition from Chinese students should indeed be worried -- and looking for ways to reduce such dependencies.

This, however, is mostly the result of ignorance. Asia is far away, and China is of course massive and does produce a huge amount of the world's products. So, people will assume when someone like van der Leyen says "Asia", they mean "China". And since China is "bad" (which its government truly is), international economic cooperation is therefore "bad" and that lends credence to the belief that globalization is always "bad". 

This sort of ignorance also means that Taiwan gets ignored. Would these replies, and others who would agree with them, be so angry about international trade if they knew that the largest producers of the best semiconductors were Asian democracies? Why would someone even need to write about "smashing the free world" if you are in fact trading with the free world, and your trade with that free world helps keep much of Asia free?

The liberal democracies of Asia do need international links if they're to withstand the direct threat from China. Taiwan is at the front line of this, as China threatens literal invasion, but South Korea and Japan are well aware of the threat, too, even if it's more figurative for them: China isn't looking to take over those countries directly, they want the modern version of economic tribute from vassal states. 

If you want to support the values of human rights and self-determination, and countries which at least attempt to implement these ideals make the best of the cutting-edge technology that you need, wouldn't the wiser course be to support them?

Is it not simply smarter to buy from countries whose governments are friendly to you, which embody values you also embody, as a way of supporting those countries? 

In fact, it actually helps China to try and undercut its neighbors in Asia. You make subpar chips (sorry Europe, but mostly you do) so you lose a tech advantage. These neighbor countries -- again, friendly democratic states which share your values and stand against China's increasingly aggressive attempts at Asian and global hegemony -- lose your business, which hurts them, and their ability to help you stand against the Communist Party of China. 

How is this in any way a smart strategy?

Engaging in trade with countries like Taiwan, South Korea and Japan is economically more efficient. Militarily, the possibility that you might have to engage with China is reduced because you're supporting all these friendly countries which help contain it. You get the best chips, Xi Jinping gets mad, democratic Asia has a better chance at continued economic prosperity. 

Why the everloving hell would you want to undercut this?

And how can we educate Europeans who assume all of this is about fighting China for dominance, when China does not dominate in semiconductors? How can it be made clearer that Europe's trading partners in Asia, in this particular industry, are not the bad guys? How can awareness of Taiwan be raised -- not only regarding the admirable way it's managed to blast the competition despite being a smaller country, ignored politically by much of the world, but also for its fight for recognition, and the ways in which this fight actually align with Europe's values and interests?

I don't know, but that entire reply section sure was disheartening. Please wake up, drink a nice cup of coffee, and read a damn book.

So, now let's talk janky economics.

Is this the best use of European resources -- to try to build up a 'home industry' in a sector where they lag so far behind? Do they stand any chance of catching up to, let alone surpassing, Asia's semiconductor dominance in a way that makes any economic sense at all? Or would this be a huge resource dump with very little result except perhaps some subpar, behind-the-times chips? Because honestly, when it comes to this sort of tech, countries like Taiwan are 2022 and I'm sorry but Europe is twenty-twenty who?

(That was a bad joke, but forgive me, for I am old.)

And sure, some people would scream that I'm a filthy neoliberal for even saying that. I don't really care, because I don't consider it a libertarian position so much as one that just makes sense. I'm not against building up domestic industry in any given country per se, but this is not exactly like saying "we import all our zippers from China and we should make zippers here so China can't cut off our zipper supply, also they do genocide". One can also make an argument that making zippers domestically isn't efficient, but I'd rather tolerate some inefficiency than support a genocide, so okay.

But these chips we're talking about -- look, I've actually spent time around the people who run these businesses, and I am literally not allowed to say much about that (and won't), so all I'll say is these chips ain't zippers. You need the absolute best on the market to be competitive, and the definition of "the best" is always changing. The chances of Europe actually producing cutting-edge chips fast enough to make all that money worth it is...honestly, I hate to be mean, but it's like Turkmenistan announcing they're going to spend their whole GDP on becoming the industry leader in augmented reality. 

Perhaps that's a bit unfair -- this isn't exactly breaking news, and Europe isn't Turkmenistan. But the overall point remains. From the Financial Times back in July:
 

The question facing the EU as it prepares to embark on this undertaking, however, is whether it ends up squandering large amounts of public money chasing geopolitical ambitions that may not be supported by industrial and market logic. While Europe has world-beating strengths in corners of the semiconductor supply chain, it lags far behind Asia in particular when it comes to making the highest-end chips.

Changing that picture, executives warn, will take years of effort and vast quantities of public money — at a time when governments in Asia and the US are also pouring tens of billions of dollars of subsidies into the sector.


One could argue that the fear here is that China will take over Taiwan, but it still makes more sense to simply support Taiwan, rather than make it easier for China by insisting on building your own mediocre crap, when Taiwan is capable of producing the best of the best. You could help support Taiwan by buying the best from them and recognizing all of the good that comes from doing so. 

Then your constituents, or reply guys, or whomever, might not have such preposterous ideas about how this is all a big fight with China, when it simply isn't.

Thursday, October 25, 2018

Swedish citizen Gui Minhai has been held by China for three years and Sweden has been super weird about it

Untitled
Gui Minhai, Martin Schibbye, Johan Persson, Peter Dahlin


Taipei-based Swedish journalist Jojje Olsson held a talk last week on the case of Gui Minhai. Gui is a Swedish citizen abducted from Thailand by the Chinese government who, beyond some limited contact with family and Swedish diplomats, has been held basically incommunicado. In fact, the talk itself coincided with the date when Gui had been officially held for exactly three years. 

The most informative part of Olsson's talk was his description of what Sweden is doing (or not doing) to get him back. While they are highly involved in closed-door, quiet talks with Chinese officials, it seems odd that these talks are indeed so "quiet": not only has the government not been in regular contact with Gui's daughter, but the case seems to be far more low-profile than it ought to.

This weird silence can be understood in comparison to the government's reaction to two other Swedish journalists who were similarly kidnapped and held for over a year in a foreign country on trumped-up charges. Johan Persson and Martin Schibbye spent over 400 days in an Ethiopian jail for essentially doing their jobs. Similarly, Gui had broken no laws in Hong Kong, where his books (which were semi-biographical tabloid fodder about Chinese leaders) were published, and was in Bangkok when he was taken. Like Persson and Schibbye, he is a Swedish citizen.

This is even more eyebrow-raising, as other European countries (most notably Germany, according to Olsson, but including much of the continent) have not only more publicly called for Gui's release, but have tried to work together to collectively take public action. And yet, Sweden stays on the path of "quiet diplomacy", even though it doesn't appear to be working. Bad publicity scares China. A few polite Swedish diplomats? Yeah I don't think so. 

But in Persson and Schibbye's case, there was an uproar in Sweden and the government much more transparently and openly feuded with Ethiopia over their detainment. What's more, Swedish officials were regularly in contact with Persson and Schibbye's family members.

Why are they raising much less of a fuss in dealing with China over Gui Minhai? Why are they not in regular contact with Angela Gui (his daughter)? When Gui was snatched a second time from a Chinese train under the noses of Swedish diplomats who were taking him to Beijing for medical care, why did the reaction seem so muted?

In the international media as well, while the case has been reported by major outlets such as the BBC and the Guardian, the average person (including the average Swedish person, I'd gather) doesn't even know that this is happening. To even your typical well-traveled educated European, the idea that China would abduct foreign nationals in foreign countries might even seem farfetched. But that's exactly what they've done.

The suggested answer is that China is a powerful country, both politically and economically. Ethiopia means little to Sweden; there are fewer risks with starting an openly critical campaign to get abducted citizens back.

I suggest an even more obvious answer. Here is a photo of Swedish citizens with Swedish names, Johan Persson and Martin Schibbye:



Wikimedia Commons

And here is a photo of Swedish citizen with a Chinese name, Gui Minhai:
Screen Shot 2018-10-22 at 12.27.48 PM
A screen grab of a screen grab - not many photos are available


Hmmmmmmmmmmmmm. Do you think it could be...?

Yeah, I do.

The rest of Europe, as noted above, seems to understand the gravity of the situation. I have to wonder why the Swedish government doesn't.

Certainly, China wants the world to think that Gui is Chinese and this is a Chinese matter. Gui is not Chinese; he may have been born in Ningbo, but China doesn't recognize dual nationality. The day Gui became Swedish is the day he stopped being Chinese. Regardless, Chinese state thugs forced Gui to say publicly that he wanted to renounce Swedish citizenship and he "slammed the country" on television. (It is certain that this was a forced statement; there is no possibility that this is truly how Gui feels about the matter).

It is well-known that China thinks of basically every person of Chinese ancestral heritage as Chinese; their actual nationality doesn't seem to matter to the CCP. They do this by threatening Chinese students abroad, taking over Chinese-language media aimed at the diaspora and threatening loved ones who may still be in China, among other tactics.

It's also not a stretch to see that they think they can get away with holding Gui in part because he, well, looks Asian. They are betting on the rest of the world seeing this as a "Chinese" issue, not an international one, and that the world cares less about these things. Basically, China is deeply racist about such matters (thinking everyone with Chinese ancestry is Chinese and therefore subject to CCP control  no matter how many generations ago their family left is racist), but they're also betting that we are racist too: that we will care less because Gui is Asian.

Why do I say this? Well, compare China's treatment of Gui to their treatment of another Swede involved in China: Peter Dahlin. Gui published books - legally - that threatened the CCP's reputation. Dahlin is an activist who threatens the CCP by working with human rights lawyers in China.

Dahlin was released after a few weeks. Gui has been held for three years. Dahlin was taken in China, over actions he undertook in China; Gui was taken in Thailand over actions he undertook in Hong Kong.

I'll repeat myself: Peter Dahlin is white and has a European name. Gui Minhai looks Chinese and has a Chinese name.

China didn't want a disappeared European on their hands, so they let Dahlin go. They are betting on you not thinking Gui is European.

Don't believe me? They abducted another foreign citizen too: Lee Ming-che. Lee is Taiwanese, not Chinese. But his name is Lee Ming-che and he looks Asian. Lee was abducted in China, over actions that he took in Taiwan where he broke no laws.

Like Gui, the Chinese government wants you to think Lee is Chinese and that this is therefore a Chinese matter and none of your business. It is no such thing. They want you to fall back on old mental blocks - for you not to care as much about people with Asian faces.

Still don't believe me? Despite Swedish officials being fairly quiet about pressing for Gui's release, China has started a massive diplomatic row over a family of play-acting Chinese tourists and China's ambassador to Sweden is something of a grandstanding jerk: all of this (even according to Olsson) seems to be related to China's attempts to pressure Sweden to just forget Gui Minhai exists, and to shift the spotlight of the Sweden-China disagreement from a Swede abducted by China to a family of shrieking stooges.

Again: China wants you to forget about Gui Minhai, and Lee Ming-che too. They want you to see these foreign prisoners of the Chinese state as "Chinese", so you won't worry your pretty little head about them. The Swedish government, for some reason, seems to be playing along just enough to keep Gui out of the news. The result is that most people seem to be forgetting about him, if they knew he existed at all.

You, however, should do no such thing.