The first decade of the 21st century has seen a dramatic reversal of fortune in the relative prestige of different political and economic models. Ten years ago, on the eve of the puncturing of the dotcom bubble, the US held the high ground. Its democracy was widely emulated, if not always loved; its technology was sweeping the world; and lightly regulated "Anglo-Saxon" capitalism was seen as the wave of the future. The United States managed to fritter away that moral capital in remarkably short order: the Iraq war and the close association it created between military invasion and democracy promotion tarnished the latter, while the Wall Street financial crisis laid waste to the idea that markets could be trusted to regulate themselves.

China, by contrast, is on a roll. President Hu Jintao's rare state visit to Washington this week comes at a time when many Chinese see their weathering of the financial crisis as a vindication of their own system, and the beginning of an era in which US-style liberal ideas will no longer be dominant. State-owned enterprises are back in vogue, and were the chosen mechanism through which Beijing administered its massive stimulus. The automatic admiration for all things American that many Chinese once felt has given way to a much more nuanced and critical view of US weaknesses - verging, for some, on contempt. It is thus not surprising that polls suggest far more Chinese think their country is going in the right direction than their American counterparts.

But what is the Chinese model? Many observers casually put it in an "authoritarian capitalist" box, along with Russia, Iran and Singapore. But China's model is sui generis; its ­specific mode of governance is difficult to describe, much less emulate, which is why it is not up for export.

The most important strength of the Chinese political system is its ability to make large, complex decisions quickly, and to make them relatively well, at least in economic policy. This is most evident in the area of infrastructure, where China has put into place airports, dams, high-speed rail, water and electricity systems to feed its growing industrial base. Contrast this with India, where every new investment is subject to blockage by trade unions, lobby groups, peasant associations and courts. India is a law-governed democracy, in which ordinary people can object to government plans; China's rulers can move more than a million people out of the Three Gorges Dam flood plain with little recourse on their part.

Nonetheless, the quality of Chinese government is higher than in Russia, Iran, or the other authoritarian regimes with which it is often lumped - precisely because Chinese rulers feel some degree of accountability towards their population. That accountability is not, of course, procedural; the authority of the Chinese Communist party is limited neither by a rule of law nor by democratic elections. But while its leaders limit public criticism, they do try to stay on top of popular discontents, and shift policy in response. They are most attentive to the urban middle class and powerful business interests that generate employment, but they respond to outrage over egregious cases of corruption or incompetence among lower-level party cadres too.

Indeed, the Chinese government often overreacts to what it believes to be public opinion precisely because, as one diplomat resident in Beijing remarked, there are no institutionalised ways of gauging it, such as elections or free media. Instead of calibrating a sensible working relationship with Japan, for example, China escalated a conflict over the detention of a fishing boat captain last year - seemingly in anticipation of popular anti-Japanese sentiment.

Americans have long hoped China might undergo a democratic transition as it got wealthier, and before it became powerful enough to become a strategic and political threat. This seems unlikely, however. The government knows how to cater to the interests of Chinese elites and the emerging middle classes, and builds on their fear of populism. This is why there is little support for genuine multi-party democracy. The elites worry about the example of democracy in Thailand - where the election of a populist premier led to violent conflict between his supporters and the establishment - as a warning of what could happen to them.

Ironically for a country that still claims to be communist, China has grown far more unequal of late. Many peasants and workers share little in the country's growth, while others are ruthlessly exploited. Corruption is pervasive, which exacerbates existing inequalities. At a local level there are countless instances in which government colludes with developers to take land away from hapless peasants. This has contributed to a pent-up anger that explodes in many thousands of acts of social protest, often violent, each year.

The Communist party seems to think it can deal with the problem of inequality through improved responsiveness on the part of its own hier­archy to popular pressures. China's great historical achievement during the past two millennia has been to create high-quality centralised government, which it does much better than most of its authoritarian peers. Today, it is shifting social spending to the neglected interior, to boost consumption and to stave off a social explosion. I doubt whether its approach will work: any top-down system of accountability faces unsolvable problems of monitoring and responding to what is happening on the ground. Effective accountability can only come about through a bottom-up process, or what we know as democracy. This is not, in my view, likely to emerge soon. However, down the road, in the face of a major economic downturn, or leaders who are less competent or more corrupt, the system's fragile legitimacy could be openly challenged. Democracy's strengths are often most evident in times of adversity.

However, if the democratic, market-oriented model is to prevail, Americans need to own up to their own mistakes and misconceptions. Washington's foreign policy during the past decade was too militarised and unilateral, succeeding only in generating a self-defeating anti-Americanism. In economic policy, Reaganism long outlived its initial successes, producing only budget deficits, thoughtless tax-cutting and inadequate financial regulation.

These problems are to some extent being acknowledged and addressed. But there is a deeper problem with the American model that is nowhere close to being solved. China adapts quickly, making difficult decisions and implementing them effectively. Americans pride themselves on constitutional checks and balances, based on a political culture that distrusts centralised government. This system has ensured individual liberty and a vibrant private sector, but it has now become polarised and ideologically rigid. At present it shows little appetite for dealing with the long-term fiscal challenges the US faces. Democracy in America may have an inherent legitimacy that the Chinese system lacks, but it will not be much of a model to anyone if the government is divided against itself and cannot govern. During the 1989 Tiananmen protests, student demonstrators erected a model of the Statue of Liberty to symbolise their aspirations. Whether anyone in China would do the same at some future date will depend on how Americans address their problems in the present.

The writer is a fellow at the Freeman Spogli Institute for International Studies at Stanford University. His latest book, The Origins of Political Order, will be published in the spring.

"I would like to invite my colleagues, students, friends, and supporters to celebrate what we have worked together to achieve over the last decade and I ask you all to join me in continuing this record of achievement in the decade to come."

Gi-Wook Shin
Stanford KSP Director
 

Gi-Wook Shin came from the University of California, Los Angeles to Stanford University in 2001 to establish a program in Korean studies. "Naturally, I had mixed feelings—of excitement and hope, but also of anxiety and uncertainty," says Shin. "Looking back, I made the right decision." The Stanford Korean Studies Program (KSP), today a thriving and vibrant program at the Walter H. Shorenstein Asia-Pacific Research Center (Shorenstein APARC), recently held a series of major events to celebrate its tenth anniversary in February 2011.

Stanford KSP is unique among other Korean studies programs in its interdisciplinary, social science-based research focus on contemporary Korea. The U.S.-Korea relationship, particularly policy issues, is strongly emphasized in the program's research and publishing activities. Stanford KSP is instrumental in the success of Shorenstein APARC's two initiatives—the Korea-U.S. West Coast Strategic Forum and the New Beginnings policy study group—aimed at improving policy-making decisions in the two countries.

The program is grateful for the strong and generous support it has received from individuals, corporations, and foundations since the very beginning. In 1999, an endowment was established for the professorship that Shin holds, the Tong Yang, Korea Foundation, and Korea Stanford Alumni Chair of Korean Studies, which was followed closely by funding for two more Korea chairs. In 2004, Dr. Jeong H. and Cynthia Kim provided funding to establish a professorship named after former U.S. Secretary of Defense William J. Perry. Dr. Kim is President of Bell Labs at Alcatel-Lucent and a member of the Freeman Spogli Institute for International Studies Advisory Board. A search is currently underway to fill this important position. The Korea Foundation then donated funds in 2005 to establish a third professorship, which is currently held by Yumi Moon of the Department of History.

Stanford KSP has successfully established two annual professional fellowship programs, the Pantech Fellowship for Mid-Career Professionals and the Koret Fellowship, something unparalleled by other Korean studies programs. The program's faculty, fellows, and visiting scholars—most of whom teach courses and speak at public events—greatly contribute to the intellectual vigor of the Stanford community. Paul Y. Chang, PhD '08, an assistant professor at Yonsei University's Underwood International College, says, "The program provided the ideal context to engage with passionate scholars and develop my research program."

Stanford KSP's visitors find themselves, in turn, rewarded by the experience of being at Shorenstein APARC. Former Korean Minister of Unification Jongseok Lee, a visiting scholar from 2008 to 2009, says, "While enjoying every bit of life at Stanford . . . I worked hard in the office from early morning to late evening, as if I were a graduate student preparing his final dissertation . . . It was a truly meaningful and memorable year." Stanford KSP maintains strong ties with its former students, fellows, visiting scholars, and other affiliates, in part through the Stanford Shorenstein APARC Forum in Korea, an organization that has grown since 2003 to boast a roster of over 100 members.

In addition to the interaction with Stanford KSP's faculty and visitors, Stanford students benefit greatly from numerous social science and language courses, internship and overseas seminar opportunities, and the ever-growing Korean-language library collection supported by the program. Social science courses cover such topics as the Korean economy, the politics of the Korean Peninsula, modern Korean history, and many others. Through the Stanford Language Center, students may take a rigorous, comprehensive offering of beginning- through advanced-level Korean-language courses. An internship program co-sponsored with the Center for East Asian Studies provides students with the valuable opportunity to live and work in Korea each summer. Since its establishment in 2005, Stanford's Korean-language library collection has expanded to include a total of 41,300 print volumes and 13 electronic databases.

On an annual basis, Stanford KSP offers innovative and impactful programs addressing current, policy-relevant issues and events, as well as historical factors with contemporary relevance, that are shaping the future of the Korean Peninsula and the U.S.-Korea relationship. Conferences and workshops bring together leading Korea scholars with policymakers and other subject experts, including business leaders and international journalists, for productive and meaningful dialogue, research, and publishing activities. Stanford KSP's popular, long-time seminar series and special events afford members of the Stanford community and the general public the opportunity to listen to and engage with distinguished political figures and prominent scholars.

Stanford KSP celebrated its tenth anniversary on February 23 with a special public seminar examining the state and prospects of science, technology, and economics in Korea and Northeast Asia. The next day, it held its annual Koret Conference, a major event bringing together prominent Korea experts to discuss the future of North Korea. The anniversary activities concluded that evening with a dinner and reception to honor the generosity of Stanford KSP's long-time donors.

Proud of the program's accomplishments to date and optimistic about the future, Shin says, "I would like to invite my colleagues, students, friends, and supporters to celebrate what we have worked together to achieve over the last decade and I ask you all to join me in continuing this record of achievement in the decade to come."

Secretary of Defense Robert M. Gates’ January 6 announcement of major budget and program changes at the Pentagon was a watershed: it canceled several multi-billion dollar weapons programs, redirected $100 billion from old programs to new ones, and laid the groundwork for reducing the active-duty size of America’s ground forces after a draw-down in Afghanistan. But in light of the rumors that Gates will step down sometime this year, his remarks soon after the announcement also helped to consolidate one particular aspect of his reformist legacy: managing our nation’s vast military weapons budget.

Gates has navigated the Byzantine relationships that weave throughout the government and the private sector, including his own office, the military services, the Congress, and the defense industry. Over the last four years, he has personally assumed control of  the Pentagon’s resource allocation process. His legacy will be an instructive playbook for several reasons.

First, accountability for the development and production of major programs stops with the Secretary; delegation does not means abdication. Gates has earned similar plaudits elsewhere: he took personal responsibility for the earliest and most public crisis of his first year, the unacceptable conditions at Walter Reed. As steward of the nation’s defense budget, he has been equally unflagging. When he lost faith in the Joint Strike Fighter’s program management, he dismissed the officer in charge and replaced him with a hard-charging 3-star general to signal the seriousness of attention with which weapons costs and performance must be treated. This, in stark contrast to business-as-usual at the Pentagon, where civilian subordinates negotiate with the military services, with the Secretary investing personal resources in only a handful of the most publicly-contentious programs.

Second, timing matters, and Gates uses timing for a crucial purpose: to promote transparency and a public dialogue about his decisions. He puts distance between his Pentagon announcements and the annual roll-out of the President’s budget request.  Although his changes will be reflected in the President’s budget, these pre-announcements allow him and the military to initiate a conversation about military spending early, and before the President’s name is affixed to it. His adroit sensitivity to timing does the nation a real service, allowing us to focus on and debate how we equip our armed forces independent of the vast competing priorities on the political agenda. 

These two lessons have led to a critical third: the importance of a constructive and open relationship with Congress. Congress has not and will not go along with every Gates proposal. But Gates realized early on that working with Congress on the often vexing troubles associated with our nation’s military-industrial complex carries far more advantages than drawbacks. His ability to generate consensus on controversial program decisions, such as halting production of the F-22 and canceling the development of the Expeditionary Fighting Vehicle, were against-the-odds triumphs over pork-barrel politics. 

Every Secretary of Defense faces a similar budgetary conundrum as Secretary Gates currently does—the need to control defense spending while maintaining a first-rate and adaptable force—but the record of cutting unnecessary programs is mixed at best. Though Dick Cheney won praise for canceling the Navy’s egregiously over-cost A-12 stealth aircraft, his attempt to terminate the Marine Corps’s V-22 Osprey stalled in Congress. Even the A-12 kill was a pyrrhic victory, as his decision sparked such intense litigation that the legal dispute over the aircraft’s cancelation persists to this day, 20 years later. Indeed, the Supreme Court heard one aspect of the case this week. 

Donald Rumsfeld took full advantage of rising defense budgets to direct investments in the critical areas of space, missile defense, ISR, but transformation in theory became addition in practice. The defense budget needn’t have been cut as the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan raged, but the Pentagon was too slow to adapt to actual war-fighting needs. Rumsfeld successfully canceled the Army’s overweight artillery system known as Crusader, but his relationship with Congress, even Republicans, was often strained, and his personal oversight of hundreds of billions of dollars in over-cost and under-performing weapons was episodic at best. 

All the technology and weapons programs in the world will not win a war: only an expertly trained military with top leadership can do that. But Secretary Gates will leave a legacy of vigilance over our nation’s weapons of war. His successor would do well to emulate it.

Today's world abounds in international courts, laws, and tribunals, yet war is becoming more brutal, more transnational, with mounting civilian casualties. Helen Stacy, FSI senior fellow and Stanford scholar in international and comparative law, notes that "civilians, often women and children, who played no role in the conflict – these are the people who suffer first, last, and in the middle." Stacy recently moderated a panel on Civilians in War Zones, that included Richard Goldstone, former justice of the Constitutional Court of South Africa, history Professor James Campbell, and Peter Berkowitz, senior fellow at the Hoover Institution, as part of this year's Ethics and War series.

On January 18, the Honorable Bob Rae, Liberal Member of Parliament for Toronto Centre and the foreign affairs critic for the Liberal Party of Canada was the featured speaker at a special CDDRL seminar. Rae addressed the Stanford community on the topic of his latest book Exporting Democracy, published in November 2010 by McClelland & Stewart. CDDRL Deputy Director, Kathryn Stoner, welcomed Rae to Stanford and Ben Rowswell, Visiting Scholar and Canadian "diplomat in residence," introduced the distinguished Rae stressing the timeliness of this topic.

This occasion marked the debut of Rae's book to a US audience and drew a sizable crowd interested in learning more about the MP's views on the role of Western powers in statebuilding and democracy promotion efforts abroad. Based on his personal experience engaging in diplomatic missions in Iraq, Afghanistan, Sri Lanka, and across the Middle East, Rae was confronted with the limits of power and democratic ideals in foreign lands.

 His discussion focused on the theoretical and practical analysis of the role of democracy in statebuilding that is the foundation of his argument in Exporting Democracy. Drawing  on the writing of 18th century philosophers, Thomas Paine and Edmund Burke, Rae examined the tensions between natural law and justice versus customs and tradition that continue to dominate the debate in modern day statecraft.

 Rae's experience observing democracy promotion abroad allowed him to recognize the importance of upholding democratic values, while also respecting the idea that democracy cannot be viewed as the "gold standard" for all. "From a Western perspective the debate suffers from the notion that the idea of democracy has emerged as perfectly natural and an automatic assumption of our daily lives. In reality it has generally been accompanied by periods of great conflict and can take hundreds of years to bear fruit as evidenced by the American and Canadian experience."

Rae emphasized that the best way Western countries can promote democracy is by helping other countries develop their own solutions to their own problems. 

Rae's sensitivity to the consequences of Western interventions, his belief in the principles of human rights, and his testimony to the importance of humility and pragmatism in our efforts of statebuilding abroad, offered the Stanford community a new perspective on the effectiveness of the global democracy movement.