Podcasts about Sichuan

Fluent Fiction - Mandarin Chinese: Rekindling Friendship in Chengdu's Tea House Atmosphere Find the full episode transcript, vocabulary words, and more:fluentfiction.com/zh/episode/2026-06-09-07-38-19-zh Story Transcript:Zh: 在成都的一个舒适的下午，李伟走进了一家古色古香的茶馆。En: On a comfortable afternoon in Chengdu, Li Wei walked into an antique-style tea house.Zh: 这个茶馆弥漫着茉莉花茶和乌龙茶的浓郁香味，让人感到温暖和放松。En: The tea house was filled with the rich aromas of jasmine tea and oolong tea, making people feel warm and relaxed.Zh: 墙壁上挂满了四川风景的传统画作，舒缓的音乐在耳边轻轻流淌。En: The walls were adorned with traditional paintings of Sichuan landscapes, and soothing music flowed gently in the background.Zh: 这是李伟回国后第一次走进这家茶馆。En: This was Li Wei's first time visiting this tea house since returning home.Zh: 他刚从国外返回成都，这座城市对他而言既熟悉又陌生。En: He had just returned to Chengdu from abroad, and the city felt both familiar and strange to him.Zh: 他犹豫地环顾四周，心中有些忐忑。En: He hesitantly looked around, feeling a bit uneasy inside.Zh: 他知道这是陈开的茶馆，一个老朋友，他和小梅曾经最喜欢来这里喝茶聊天。En: He knew that this was Chen's tea house, an old friend, and a place he used to frequent with Xiaomei for tea and chats.Zh: 李伟深吸一口气，走到柜台前。En: Taking a deep breath, Li Wei approached the counter.Zh: “你好，陈。”他的声音中带着一丝紧张。En: "Hello, Chen." There was a hint of nervousness in his voice.Zh: 陈抬头，立刻认出了他。En: Chen looked up and immediately recognized him.Zh: “李伟！好久不见！”陈的声音带着惊喜和热情。En: "Li Wei! Long time no see!" Chen's voice was filled with surprise and enthusiasm.Zh: “快坐，我去泡一壶好茶给你。”En: "Come, sit down, I'll brew you a good pot of tea."Zh: 他们找了个角落坐下，李伟环顾四周，回忆起儿时与朋友们坐在这里的时光。En: They found a corner to sit in, and Li Wei glanced around, recalling the times he spent with friends here as a child.Zh: 不久，小梅也推门而入。En: Soon, Xiaomei also walked in through the door.Zh: 她的笑容还是那么明亮，“李伟！欢迎回家！”En: Her smile was just as bright as ever, "Li Wei! Welcome home!"Zh: 几个人坐在一起，初时有些拘谨。En: The group sat together, feeling a bit reserved at first.Zh: 李伟担心太多事情已经改变，他们可能再也无法像从前那般亲密。En: Li Wei worried that too much had changed and that they might never be as close as they once were.Zh: 但随着一杯杯温热的茶水，谈话渐渐畅快。En: But as they sipped cup after cup of warm tea, their conversation gradually became more relaxed.Zh: 小梅笑着提起他们小时候端午节一起包粽子的趣事，En: Xiaomei laughed as she brought up the fun they had making zongzi together during the Dragon Boat Festival when they were younger.Zh: “你还记得吗？李伟你总是把粽叶弄破，糯米全漏出来。”En: "Do you remember? Li Wei, you always tore the zongzi leaves, and all the sticky rice would spill out."Zh: 李伟也忍不住笑了，这些珍贵的回忆让他感到温暖。En: Li Wei couldn't help but laugh, these precious memories made him feel warm inside.Zh: 笑声充满了整个茶馆，仿佛把时间倒回到了过去，那份纯粹的友谊依然存在。En: Laughter filled the entire tea house, as if time had turned back to the past, and the pure friendship still existed.Zh: “我们今年一起去看龙舟赛吧！”小梅提议。En: "Let's go watch the dragon boat race together this year!" Xiaomei suggested.Zh: 李伟点头，他感觉自己终于找到了归属感，“好啊，一定。”En: Li Wei nodded, feeling he finally found a sense of belonging, "Sure, definitely."Zh: 故事结束时，他们愉快地离开茶馆，李伟内心的忐忑被久违的温暖所取代。En: As the story ends, they happily left the tea house, with Li Wei's initial unease replaced by a long-lost warmth.Zh: 他明白，无论世界怎么变化，真正的友谊始终跨越时间和距离，永远温暖如初。En: He understood that no matter how the world changes, true friendship always transcends time and distance, remaining as warm as ever. Vocabulary Words:comfortable: 舒适的antiques: 古色古香的aromas: 香味adorned: 挂满hesitantly: 犹豫地frequent: 最喜欢quintessential: 传统approached: 走到hint: 一丝nervousness: 紧张recognized: 认出enthusiasm: 热情glanced: 环顾recalling: 回忆起reserved: 拘谨uneasy: 忐忑transcends: 跨越soothing: 舒缓的decorate: 装饰hesitate: 犹豫initial: 初时reminisced: 怀旧precious: 珍贵的embrace: 拥抱transience: 短暂splendor: 辉煌hospitality: 款待immemorial: 古老的nostalgic: 怀旧的intimacy: 亲密

Bem-vindo à Rádio Minghui. As transmissões incluem assuntos relativos à perseguição ao Falun Gong na China, entendimentos e experiências dos praticantes adquiridas no curso de seus cultivos, interesses e música composta e executada pelos praticantes do Dafa. O livro “Nosso Mestre” é uma coletânea de artigos escritos por alunos do Falun Dafa. Esta série reúne suas experiências pessoais com a prática e suas interações com o fundador do Dafa, o Sr. Li Hongzhi, quando a prática foi ensinada ao público pela primeira vez. Os artigos foram originalmente publicados no site Minghui. Episódio 11: “O Mestre realizou atos milagrosos ao ensinar o Fa na cidade de Zhengzhou na província de Henan”, escrito um praticante do Dafa na província de Sichuan.

As millions of Chinese students feverishly prepare for the national college entrance examination, or gaokao, this weekend, parents across the country are turning to products symbolizing good fortune, fueling a surge in sales of flowers, pastries, clothing and other related merchandise.本周末全国数百万考生全力备战高考之际，各地家长纷纷选购寓意吉祥的好物，带动鲜花、糕点、服饰等相关商品销量暴涨。While the students are focusing on last-minute revisions, their parents are busy preparing "good luck" items as a way of offering encouragement and emotional support.考生抓紧考前最后时间查漏补缺，家长们则忙着置办各类祈福好物，以此为孩子鼓劲、送上心理慰藉。Among the most popular purchases are qipao, the traditional Chinese dress, which sounds similar to the phrase qikai desheng, meaning "to win from the outset". Florists are reporting strong demand for sunflowers, the Chinese name of which is associated with the idiom yiju duokui, or "winning first place in one stroke".旗袍是热门选购单品，因谐音“旗开得胜”备受青睐；向日葵同样订单火爆，其名称暗含“一举夺魁”的美好寓意，花店销量一路走高。"Success in the exam ultimately depends on the student's abilities. As parents, we simply want to offer our children our best wishes and some extra encouragement," said Zhang, a parent of a high school senior.高三考生家长张先生表示：“考试成败终究靠孩子自身实力，作为父母，我们只是想送上美好期许，多给孩子一份鼓励。”According to the owner of a qipao shop in Chengdu, the capital of Sichuan province, sales have risen sharply in recent weeks. Many mothers wear the outfit while accompanying their children to the examination centers. Customers are buying qipao specifically for the gaokao season, the owner told Fengmian News, a Sichuan-based media outlet. "Some even placed orders more than a month in advance."据四川本地媒体封面新闻报道，成都一位旗袍店店主介绍，近几周门店销量大幅攀升。不少妈妈会身着旗袍送考，大批顾客专门为高考选购旗袍，部分消费者甚至提前一个多月预订。Online retailers have also reported a surge in demand. One qipao store said that sales increased fivefold over the past week, with modernized versions of the traditional dress proving particularly popular.线上商家同样迎来订单热潮，一家旗袍网店称上周销量翻至原先五倍，改良新式旗袍最受消费者追捧。Also much sought after are sunflowers, which have become the season's top-selling floral product. Flower shops in several cities reported receiving orders for sunflower bouquets from parents and entire graduating classes alike.向日葵成为当季爆款鲜花，多地花店接到不少家长和毕业班集体预订的向日葵花束订单。Not to be left behind, pastry makers are also cashing in on the trend. Dingsheng gao, a traditional rice cake, the name of which literally means "certain victory", has become a seasonal bestseller. Bakery chains and retailers such as Beijing Daoxiangcun and Freshippo Bakery have launched special exam-themed gift boxes to cater to the huge demand.糕点商家也顺势抢抓商机，寓意“定胜”的传统定胜糕热销。北京稻香村、盒马烘焙等连锁糕点品牌纷纷推出高考限定礼盒，满足市场需求。Meanwhile, zongzi-shaped plush pendants inspired by the Dragon Boat Festival, which carry a pun associated with academic success, have become popular gifts for students.端午元素的粽子造型毛绒挂饰凭借谐音升学的美好彩头，成为热门考生礼品。Many handmade zongzi key chains featuring messages such as "admitted to a top university" have sold thousands of units on e-commerce platforms.印有“金榜题名”等字样的手工粽子钥匙扣，在各大电商平台销量破千。According to e-commerce platform JD, sales of stationery carrying phrases such as "pass every exam" have tripled compared with April, while searches for exam-related stationery products have increased nearly sevenfold.京东平台数据显示，印有“逢考必过”等祝福语的文具销量较4月增长两倍，高考相关文具搜索量暴涨近六倍。Industry observers said that the popularity of such products reflects parents' desire to support their children during a stressful period in their lives, rather than a belief in superstitions.业内分析人士表示，祈福商品热销并非源于迷信，而是家长在备考关键期想要陪伴、助力孩子的情感体现。However, they also cautioned parents not to create additional pressure for students through elaborate pre-exam preparations.但专家提醒家长，不必过度置办各类祈福用品，避免无形中给考生增添心理负担。Ultimately, the gaokao is an examination, an observer said, adding that what really matters is helping students stay calm and confident.业内人士称，高考只是一场考试，帮孩子稳住心态、保持自信才是重中之重。Sometimes, the observer said, the best support comes after the exam — a meal together, a trip, or simply letting children know they are loved regardless of the outcome.专家表示，最好的陪伴往往在考后：一顿团圆饭、一次短途出游，或是告诉孩子，无论成绩如何，家人的爱始终不变。plush /plʌʃ/毛绒的pendant /ˈpendənt/挂饰，吊坠pun /pʌn/谐音梗，双关语triple /ˈtrɪpl/（使）增至三倍sevenfold /ˈsevənfəʊld/七倍地superstition /ˌsuːpəˈstɪʃn/迷信

Humanoid robots performing martial arts, robotic dogs demonstrating their agility and robots dancing to foreign folk music have become some of the more unusual scenes on foreign leaders' trips to China this year.今年，外国领导人访华途中出现了一些不同寻常的场景：人形机器人打太极、机器狗灵活跳跃、机器人随外国民族音乐翩翩起舞。Behind the eye-catching moments is a broader trend: China's vast market and technological strength are drawing visiting leaders beyond formal talks in Beijing.这些引人注目的时刻背后，是一个更大的趋势：中国广阔的市场和技术实力正吸引着来访的领导人走出北京的外交会场。The latest is Thongloun Sisoulith, general secretary of the Lao People's Revolutionary Party Central Committee and Lao president, who is currently making a five-day state visit to China.最新一位是正在对中国进行为期五天国事访问的老挝人民革命党中央总书记、国家主席通伦·西苏里。During a trip to DEEP Robotics in Hangzhou, the capital of Zhejiang province, shortly after his arrival in China on Tuesday, Thongloun operated a robotic dog and praised it as "very good" and "very flexible".通伦6月2日抵华后不久便前往浙江省会杭州，参观了杭州云深处科技有限公司。他亲自操作了一只机器狗，称赞其“很好”、“非常灵活”。He also visited the headquarters of Chinese tech company Alibaba Group, where he learned how e-commerce platforms help Lao products reach consumers across the Chinese market.他还参观了中国科技公司阿里巴巴集团总部，了解了电商平台如何帮助老挝产品触达中国市场各地的消费者。Thongloun is not alone. Earlier this year, Serbian President Aleksandar Vucic, Pakistani Prime Minister Shehbaz Sharif and German Chancellor Friedrich Merz also included Zhejiang in their China itineraries.通伦并非个例。今年早些时候，塞尔维亚总统亚历山大·武契奇、巴基斯坦总理夏巴兹·谢里夫和德国总理弗里德里希·默茨也都在访华行程中安排了浙江。The province, long seen as an important window on China's reform and opening-up, is also one of the first places where the country's digital economy took root and flourished.浙江长期被视为中国改革开放的重要窗口，也是我国数字经济最早生根发芽并蓬勃发展的地区之一。Observers said the visits are more than lighthearted moments or technology showcases on packed diplomatic itineraries. Against the backdrop of global industrial transformation, the trips reflect a conscious choice by countries to embrace China's innovation drive and connect with its strengths in the digital economy, they said.观察人士指出，这些访问不仅仅是紧张外交行程中的轻松时刻或技术展示。在全球产业转型的背景下，这些行程反映出各国主动对接中国创新驱动发展战略、借力中国数字经济优势的明确选择。Zhejiang has become one of the most visible stops in this process because it allows visiting leaders to see, in one place, how digital platforms, artificial intelligence, robotics and advanced manufacturing are being applied in real industries.浙江之所以成为这一过程中最受瞩目的站点之一，是因为它能令来访的领导人实地看到，数字平台、人工智能、机器人及先进制造等技术如何在实际产业中落地应用。Jian Junbo, a researcher with the Institute of International Studies at Fudan University in Shanghai, said the visits reflect foreign leaders' recognition of China's high-tech development, as well as their countries' desire to work with China and benefit from the momentum of its technological progress.复旦大学国际问题研究院研究员简军波表示，这些访问反映出外国领导人对中国高新技术发展的认可，也体现了他们与中国开展合作、借助中国技术进步势头获益的愿望。"They hope to carry out deeper and broader cooperation with China in areas such as sci-tech innovation, education and the application of technological achievements," Jian said.“他们希望与中方在科技创新、教育以及科技成果应用等领域开展更深层次、更广范围的合作，”简军波说。"The main purpose, and also their expectation, is to help drive the growth and development of their own domestic economies," Jian added.“其主要目的和预期，是希望能借此推动自身国内经济的增长与发展，”简军波补充道。Li Xiaopeng, a professor at Hangzhou City University, said: "Effective home-ground diplomacy is not just about meetings, group photos and signing ceremonies. It also requires letting guests see things for themselves — to see a country's development, its capabilities and where its future is heading."浙大城市学院教授李晓鹏表示：“有效的主场外交不仅是会谈、合影和签约，还需要让客人亲眼看一看——看看这个国家的发展、能力以及未来的走向。”Taking Hangzhou as an example, Li said the city has become a highly concentrated example of Chinese modernization. In 2025, Hangzhou's GDP exceeded 2.3 trillion yuan ($340 billion), while the added value of its core digital economy industries reached 678 billion yuan, official data shows.以杭州为例，李晓鹏表示，这座城市已成为中国式现代化的高度浓缩样本。官方数据显示，2025年杭州GDP突破2.3万亿元人民币（合3400亿美元），数字经济核心产业增加值达6780亿元。Behind the figures is an ecosystem that includes platform companies, robotics enterprises, AI startups and advanced manufacturers, forming a broader industrial chain that allows visiting leaders to see more than individual companies, Li said.李晓鹏说，这些数字背后是一个涵盖平台企业、机器人企业、人工智能初创公司及先进制造商的生态系统，形成了更长的产业链，使来访领导人看到的远不止单个企业。Zhejiang is not the only place where such out-of-capital trips have taken place.浙江并非外国领导人离京参访的唯一目的地。Foreign leaders visiting China have also traveled to places such as Shanghai, an international financial center; Xiong'an New Area in Hebei province; and Fujian, Shaanxi and Sichuan provinces — places that showcase Chinese modernization, coordinated regional development, poverty reduction and connectivity.访华的外国领导人还到访了上海这座国际金融中心、河北雄安新区，以及福建、陕西和四川等省份——这些地方展示着中国式现代化、区域协调发展、脱贫攻坚及互联互通建设成就。Jian, the researcher, said that in-person visits by foreign leaders play an irreplaceable role in helping them better understand the reasons behind China's economic success and its future development trends.复旦大学国际问题研究院研究员简军波表示，外国领导人亲身实地参访，在帮助他们更好地理解中国经济成功的原因及未来发展走向方面，发挥着不可替代的作用。"Such visits help them see China more objectively, dispel the interference of certain Western narratives, and put aside prejudice and stereotypes about China," he said.“这些实地参访有助于他们更客观地看待中国，排除某些西方叙事的干扰，摒弃对中国的偏见和刻板印象，”他说。While the Lao top leader was visiting Zhejiang, Yvette Cooper, the United Kingdom's foreign secretary, traveled to Shenzhen, the technology hub in South China's Guangdong province, on Wednesday for a trip focused on science and technology, after meetings in the Chinese capital.就在老挝最高领导人访问浙江期间，英国外交大臣伊薇特·库珀结束了在北京的会谈后，于6月3日前往华南科技重镇广东深圳，进行以科技为重点的参访。If Beijing is where diplomacy is conducted, Shenzhen is where China's industrial innovation takes shape on the ground, experts said.专家表示，如果说北京是开展外交活动的地方，那么深圳就是中国产业创新落地生根的地方。"Shenzhen now stands in the global spotlight, as it will host an important international meeting this year," said Cui Hongjian, a professor at Beijing Foreign Studies University's Academy of Regional and Global Governance.北京外国语大学区域与全球治理高等研究院教授崔洪建表示：“深圳目前备受国际关注，因为今年它将主办一场重要的国际会议。”The city is set to host the Asia-Pacific Economic Cooperation Economic Leaders' Meeting in November.今年11月，深圳将主办亚太经合组织（APEC）经济领导人会议。Cui said that Cooper's visit to the city and to technology companies shows that Britain's diplomacy toward China has a clear and targeted agenda — to make economic diplomacy a main thread of its China policy.崔洪建指出，库珀访问深圳及科技企业，表明英国对华外交有明确而具体的议程——让经济外交成为其对华政策的主线。draw /drɔː/吸引itinerary /aɪˈtɪnərəri/行程sci-tech innovation /ˈsaɪ tek ˌɪnəˈveɪʃən/科技创新Chinese modernization /tʃaɪˈniːz ˌmɒdənaɪˈzeɪʃən/中国式现代化international financial center /ˌɪntəˈnæʃənəl faɪˈnænʃəl ˈsentə/国际金融中心coordinated regional development /kəʊˈɔːdɪneɪtɪd ˈriːdʒənəl dɪˈveləpmənt/区域协调发展poverty reduction /ˈpɒvəti rɪˈdʌkʃən/脱贫攻坚dispel /dɪˈspel/消除narrative /ˈnærətɪv/叙事economic diplomacy /ˌiːkəˈnɒmɪk dɪˈpləʊməsi/经济外交main thread /meɪn θred/主线

The summit in Beijing produced a "constructive strategic stability" framework and a warming of tone between the two presidents. But heads of state can announce a multi-year horizon; somebody else has to operationalize it. Does the United States have the people — the linguists, the regional experts, the long-haul institution-builders — to do that work?This week, I chatted with two Texans answering that question from very different directions. David Firestein is the inaugural president and CEO of the George H.W. Bush Foundation for U.S.-China Relations in Houston. A career State Department officer who served four administrations and spent five years in Beijing, he's one of the few Americans concurrently affiliated with both a Republican and a Democratic presidential legacy institution. Eddie Conger is a retired Marine major and the founder and superintendent of International Leadership of Texas (IL Texas) — a public charter network of 26 campuses serving 26,000 K-12 students and now the largest K-12 Chinese language program in the country. In January, IL Texas became the first-ever K-12 recipient of the Bush China Foundation's George H.W. Bush Award for Educational Excellence in U.S.-China Relations, joining past honorees including Jimmy Carter and Henry Kissinger.The conversation tackles what David calls the Texas paradox: the same state that just forced its cities to dissolve their sister-city ties with China, that pioneered the closure of Confucius Institutes, and that has restricted Chinese land purchases is also where the country's deepest K-12 Mandarin pipeline is taking root — and where the most institutionally Texan China foundation has chosen to plant its flag. David and Eddie talk through engagement honestly (no straw-man Jeffersonian-democracy fantasies), the erroneous strategic assumptions undergirding U.S. China policy, what real national-language capacity would look like operationally, what they each saw in the Trump–Xi summit, and what 5,000 IL Texas graduates are already doing in the world.05:40 — Eddie's path: Marine infantryman to fifth-grade math teacher to the country's largest K-12 Mandarin program09:12 — David on when the Nixon-through-Obama engagement consensus broke (fall 2017) and how the lexicon shifted13:30 — Engagement honestly defined: what its architects actually believed vs. the Jeffersonian-democracy straw man18:30 — The Texas paradox: HB 128, sister cities, Confucius Institutes — and the country's biggest Mandarin program in the same state31:26 — Texas business, Tim Dunn, faith, and the gap between political rhetoric and where Texans actually are41:54 — The Defense Department safety/security story: when one Chinese word ate an entire bilateral agreement46:16 — David's six (or seven) erroneous strategic assumptions: China doesn't want to be us, and it has benefited more than anyone from the current order52:28 — What real national-language capacity would actually look like: NSLI, WALARA, and why the pipeline still runs through one Marine major in Texas01:06:07 — Reading the Beijing summit: the warmth, the "constructive strategic stability" framing, and whether Trump's Taiwan call could blow it all up01:17:10 — Where 5,000 IL Texas graduates are now — White House interns, service academies, doctors, entrepreneurs, and one high-schooler who pulled a stranger out of the surfPaying it ForwardEddie: Carlos Carrasco; Emily, who is heading to Taiwan this fall on a one-year high-school program; and another student bound for the University of Texas at Austin who will be sent to South Korea for a semester as a freshman — a rarity at UT. And he closes with Miles, a high-school senior and Marine scholarship recipient who, just weeks ago at a national competition in Florida, heard someone screaming for help in the ocean, called for a boogie board, and swam out to save a drowning swimmer while a crowd of adults stood on the beach. "Others before self," as Eddie puts it — the IL Texas mission statement made flesh.David:Frank Zhou, who just graduated from Harvard and chaired the Harvard College China Forum; Selina Gong, a recent graduate of the Harvard Kennedy School involved in its annual China conference; and Dean Dai, a recent graduate of Columbia's SIPA who has been deeply involved in many of the most significant student-run China conferences in the country — and who, as it turns out, was one of the organizers of the University of Chicago U.S.-China Economy and Business Summit where Kaiser spoke earlier this month.Recommendations:Eddie: John Pomfret, The Beautiful Country and the Middle Kingdom: America and China, 1776 to the Present (Henry Holt, 2016)David: Stephen Roach, Accidental Conflict: America, China, and the Clash of False Narratives (Yale, 2022)Kaiser: David Grann, The Wager: A Tale of Shipwreck, Mutiny and Murder (Doubleday, 2023)Also mentioned: Stephen R. Platt, The Raider: The Untold Story of a Renegade Marine and the Birth of U.S. Special Forces in World War II (Knopf, 2024) See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

We're joined by Jia (you may know them as @JiaAnimalSelfies), a Pittsburgh creator with roots in Chengdu, Sichuan, and a deep love for the kind of food that doesn't apologize for being specific. Jia shares their family's path from China to Pittsburgh, including stories shaped by the Cultural Revolution, immigration, and the restaurant work that helped make education possible. We talk about what “secret menu” really means, why it exists, and how to explore it without treating culture like a dare. For anyone chasing authentic Sichuan cuisine in Pittsburgh, Jia defines what mala actually is, how to prep your stomach before hot pot, and how sesame oil and soy milk fit into the tradition. Jia drops a smart Squirrel Hill hack for finding QR-code promos and ordering off-menu through delivery apps, plus local recommendations including dry hot pot at Little Corner Grill House and late-night options when the shift ends after midnight. If you like Pittsburgh food podcasts, Asian American stories, and real tips you can use tonight, hit play and come hungry. Subscribe to The Pittsburgh Dish, share this with a friend who always orders the same thing, and leave a review so more people can find the show.Support the show

La Chine annonce la découverte d'un immense champ de gaz de schiste ultraprofond dans le bassin du Sichuan. Pékin évoque plus de 235 milliards de mètres cubes de réserves prouvées, une avancée présentée comme stratégique pour renforcer la sécurité énergétique du pays. Mais derrière cette annonce spectaculaire, de nombreuses inconnues demeurent sur le calendrier réel d'exploitation et l'impact concret de cette découverte. De notre correspondante à Pékin, Le nouveau champ gazier découvert par Sinopec se situe dans le bassin du Sichuan, à plus de 4 500 mètres de profondeur. Les autorités chinoises parlent d'un champ de gaz de schiste « ultra-profond », avec plus de 235 milliards de mètres cubes de réserves prouvées. Ce gisement représente environ la moitié de la consommation annuelle de gaz de la Chine. Pékin met en avant une avancée technologique importante : le schiste exploité ici remonte au Cambrien, une formation vieille de plus de 500 millions d'années, présentée comme l'une des plus anciennes formations de schiste exploitées à grande échelle au monde. Mais à ce stade, aucun calendrier précis de commercialisation n'a encore été annoncé, et la découverte d'un gisement ne signifie pas automatiquement une exploitation rapide. À lire aussiGazoduc «Force de Sibérie 2 »: des progrès mais toujours pas d'accord entre la Russie et la Chine Une exploitation complexe et coûteuse L'exploitation de ce type de gaz reste particulièrement difficile. À ces profondeurs, les forages doivent résister à des températures et des pressions très élevées, tandis que les caractéristiques géologiques du réservoir restent difficiles à maîtriser. Le gaz de schiste chinois est aussi plus compliqué à exploiter que celui des États-Unis, souvent situé plus profondément et dans des zones géologiques plus complexes. Résultat : les coûts de production sont élevés et la rentabilité dépend largement des prix mondiaux du gaz. Même avec des réserves importantes sur le papier, plusieurs années pourraient donc être nécessaires avant une production industrielle à grande échelle. À lire aussiLa tension sur le marché du gaz dope la vente de charbon Un enjeu stratégique pour Pékin Cette annonce intervient alors que la Chine cherche à renforcer sa sécurité énergétique. Le pays reste le premier importateur mondial de gaz naturel et dépend encore fortement des importations de gaz naturel liquéfié et des gazoducs venant notamment de Russie et d'Asie centrale. Dans un contexte de tensions géopolitiques et de rivalités commerciales croissantes, Pékin cherche depuis plusieurs années à sécuriser davantage ses approvisionnements énergétiques. À ce stade, difficile donc d'évaluer l'impact réel de cette découverte sur le marché mondial. Mais la Chine cherche aussi à envoyer un signal politique et technologique : celui d'un pays capable de développer des technologies d'extraction toujours plus complexes pour consolider son autonomie stratégique sur le long terme. À écouter dans C'est pas du ventLa ruée vers les énergies fossiles continue...

Eric Olander on how the Global South is reading the Beijing summitsThis week I'm joined again by Eric Olander, founder of the China Global South Project, which runs the most indispensable English-language operation going for understanding China's engagement with Africa, Latin America, Southeast Asia, and the Middle East.I came in with a plan: map, region by region, how the capitals of the Global South were reading the back-to-back Trump and Putin visits to Beijing — relief at a steadier U.S.-China modus vivendi, or foreboding at a G2 condominium squeezing shut their room to maneuver. Eric dismantled the premise within ten minutes. The honest answer, he warned me, is that most of the Global South simply isn't watching the way we are — and the disappointment turned out to be the most interesting thing in the room. What looked like the absence of a story was the story. I'd built my questions around one assumption about what mattered; Eric had built his answers around another, and I cop to being schooled.Once you set the summit framing aside, what Eric's contributors are actually seeing comes into focus: Japan racing to recenter an Asia-Pacific security architecture, a region quietly de-risking from an unreliable United States, fresh cracks in the BRICS, Justin Yifu Lin's “three moves” for Chinese manufacturing, Latin America's “find out” phase, and a Gulf where the Chinese setback so many in Washington insist must exist simply isn't there. We get into all of it — and close on the summit as a remarkable piece of theater, the first since 1945 at which no one quite knew who the most powerful person in the room was.04:27 — The dominant mood: pro forma coverage, exhaustion, and bigger problems at home08:15 — Breaking news: the paused $14B Taiwan arms package and the canceled Colby trip11:15 — The dog that caught the truck: China and the costs of a receding U.S. umbrella13:00 — "Constructive strategic stability" — new equilibrium or just choreography?28:23 — The snub: Beijing sends only an ambassador to the BRICS meeting in New Delhi37:56 — Africa: tariff-free access, the trade imbalance, and Kenya's "collapsed" exports44:34 — Justin Yifu Lin's "three moves": move up-market, localize, move south51:00 — Latin America's "find out" phase in Panama, and very low China literacy57:35 — The Gulf after the war on Iran: who really won?Paying it Forward:Boston University's Global Development Policy (GDP) Research CenterRecommendationsEric: A “rabbit hole” of books on Xi Jinping, currently Party of One by Chun Han Wong (after Kevin Rudd's On Xi Jinping).Kaiser: Angine de Poitrine, a “microtonal math rock” duo from Quebec — think Frank Zappa meets King Crimson — possibly the thing to breathe new life into progressive rock.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

This week on Sinica, I speak with Andrew Seth Meyer, professor of history at CUNY Brooklyn College and the author of a remarkable new book from Oxford University Press, To Rule All Under Heaven: A History of Classical China from Confucius to the First Emperor. Sixteen years in the making, it's the first proper one-volume narrative history of the Warring States in English aimed at a general reader — a gap in the field that Andy has now decisively filled. We talk about why this period — the roughly 260 years between Confucius's death and Qin's unification in 221 BCE — really is the deepest layer of Chinese political history that still genuinely matters, and we try together to find the line between responsible historical reasoning about modern China and the kind of lazy essentialism that reaches for Han Feizi every time Xi Jinping makes a speech. Along the way we get into the displacement of the hereditary aristocracy by the shi, the Lüshi Chunqiu as a piece of political genius, why the standard caricature of “Legalist” Qin is wrong, and what it means that the Chinese state is still, in some real sense, running on operating software written in the 4th century BCE.8:14 – The 16-year gestation, why no general-reader Warring States book existed in English, and what made Andy think he could be the one to write it11:06 – The romanization headaches: Wei vs. Wey, King Zhao of Qin vs. King Zhao of Yan, and the special agonies of writing about early China for an English audience14:31 – Why he organized the book by state rather than strictly chronologically — and what that structure lets him do18:14 – The relevance question: how to take the deep continuity of Chinese political life seriously without falling into the orientalist “eternal China” trap25:52 – Why the Warring States is properly called a revolution: the destruction of Zhou-era hereditary aristocracy and the rise of the shi33:15 – Fukuyama's claim that Qin built the world's first genuinely modern state — is “modern” the right word?36:30 – Qin's 38 commanderies, why the radical version lasted only 15 years, and the Han retreat: aristocracy or regional autonomy?39:46 – Reading the Hundred Schools as embedded political actors rather than tidy textbook categories — and the Jixia Academy as ancient Brookings44:06 – The Lüshi Chunqiu as a brilliant piece of political propaganda, and what its tripartite cosmological structure was actually arguing52:31 – Why the cartoon-legalist version of the Qin is wrong: the 70 erudites, the Taishan stelae, and what the book-burning episode really was57:05 – The axial age question: pattern-matching or something real?1:00:40 – What the Warring States actually has to teach us about China in 2026: zhong guo as aspiration, not description1:05:08 – How the Warring States is taught in China and Taiwan today, and what archaeology is doing to the field1:08:36 – Constant self-reinvention as the real Chinese legacy, and why no plausible future China fully repudiates the CCPPaying it forward:Avital Rom (postdoc at Cambridge, early Chinese cultural history, editor of a forthcoming volume on disability and impairment in early China)Liang Cai (Notre Dame, new book on Han-era jurisprudence and legal traditions)Recommendations:Andy: Hadestown on Broadway — and Anaïs Mitchell's original concept albumKaiser: To Say Nothing of the Dog: or, How We Found the Bishop's Bird Stump at Last by Connie Willis (audiobook especially recommended)See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Fluent Fiction - Mandarin Chinese: Spicy Romance: A Hot Pot Date with Unexpected Twists Find the full episode transcript, vocabulary words, and more:fluentfiction.com/zh/episode/2026-05-20-07-38-19-zh Story Transcript:Zh: 在北京一个繁忙的火锅店里，热气腾腾，香味四溢。En: In a busy Beijing hot pot restaurant, steam billowed, and the aroma filled the air.Zh: 梅和健坐在一张小桌子旁，桌面上的锅里沸腾着他们点的火锅。En: Mei and Jian sat at a small table, with the hot pot they ordered boiling on the tabletop.Zh: 春天的气息正从窗外的枝头上慢慢爬进来，让人心生愉悦。En: The scent of spring was slowly creeping in from the branches outside the window, bringing joy to their hearts.Zh: 这是梅和健的第一次约会。En: This was Mei and Jian's first date.Zh: 梅是个美食博主，她希望这次约会能既有趣又难忘，也是一篇好博客的题材。En: Mei is a food blogger, and she hoped this date would be interesting and memorable, also serving as a topic for a good blog post.Zh: 她轻轻移动着手机，试图捕捉美丽的食物照片。En: She gently moved her phone, trying to capture beautiful photos of the food.Zh: 健则爱吃火锅，尤其是香辣火锅，但他对一种关键食材——花椒过敏，却一直没告诉梅。En: Jian, on the other hand, loved hot pot, especially spicy hot pot, but he was allergic to one key ingredient—huajiao (Sichuan pepper), which he hadn't mentioned to Mei.Zh: 店里人声鼎沸，谈笑风生。En: The restaurant was buzzing with conversation and laughter.Zh: 一位来自国外的游客李在热闹声中，兴奋地东张西望。En: A tourist from abroad, Li, excitedly looked around in the lively atmosphere.Zh: 不久后，她的目光落在了梅和健身上。En: Soon, her eyes landed on Mei and Jian.Zh: 她认为他们是当地的名人。En: She thought they were local celebrities.Zh: “真幸运！En: "How lucky!"Zh: ”李凑近他们，迫不及待地打招呼，“请问，我可以和你们合影吗？En: Li approached them eagerly and greeted them, "May I take a photo with you?"Zh: ”梅笑着看了一眼健，不知道该如何回应。En: Mei glanced at Jian with a smile, unsure how to respond.Zh: 这时，火锅的香气越发浓烈，健皱了皱眉。En: At that moment, the aroma of the hot pot became stronger, and Jian frowned.Zh: 梅注意到他说话比平常少了一些。En: Mei noticed he was speaking less than usual.Zh: “当然可以，”梅尽量保持礼貌。En: "Of course," Mei tried to remain polite.Zh: 她拍了几张合照，希望能尽快恢复和健的约会。En: She took a few photos, hoping to quickly resume the date with Jian.Zh: 李高兴地跟他们分享她来北京的经历，梅试着不耽误自己的工作。En: Li happily shared her experiences in Beijing with them, while Mei tried not to get distracted from her work.Zh: 然而，健的表情开始有些异样。En: However, Jian's expression started to change.Zh: 他在锅里翻找着其他食材，但不小心吃到了花椒。En: As he searched through the pot for other ingredients, he accidentally ate huajiao.Zh: 他开始出现轻微的过敏反应，脸有些红。En: He began to have a mild allergic reaction, his face turning slightly red.Zh: 梅注意到了，立即放下手机，关切地问：“你还好吗？En: Mei noticed and immediately put down her phone, asking with concern, "Are you okay?"Zh: ”梅迅速做出了决定。En: Mei quickly made a decision.Zh: 她对李说：“抱歉，我们得稍微休息一下。En: She said to Li, "Sorry, we need to take a short break."Zh: ”然后，她专心地照顾健，帮助他缓解不适。En: Then, she focused on taking care of Jian, helping him alleviate his discomfort.Zh: 混乱过后，梅灵光一现，将发生的一切写进了她的新博文，用一种幽默的方式，把这段意外的经历记录下来。En: After the chaos, Mei had an idea and wrote about everything that happened in her new blog post, recording this unexpected experience with humor.Zh: 健看着梅，在忙乱中依旧从容的样子，感到她的幽默和适应能力让人着迷。En: Jian watched Mei, captivated by her humor and adaptability even amidst the commotion.Zh: 他们的第一次约会虽然有些出其不意，但也因此显得特别且真实。En: Although their first date was a bit unexpected, it also made it special and genuine.Zh: 梅在这次经验中学会了更灵活地应对变化，这让她与健之间的关系更加亲近。En: Through this experience, Mei learned to handle changes more flexibly, bringing her and Jian closer together.Zh: 在春天温暖的空气中，他们相视一笑，约定下次再聚，或许依然是在火锅店。En: In the warm spring air, they exchanged smiles, promising to meet again, perhaps once more at the hot pot restaurant. Vocabulary Words:billow: 腾腾aroma: 香味creeping: 爬进buzzing: 人声鼎沸celebrities: 名人eagerly: 迫不及待allergic: 过敏ingredient: 食材expression: 表情reaction: 反应alleviate: 缓解discomfort: 不适humor: 幽默adaptability: 适应能力flexibly: 灵活地genuine: 真实capture: 捕捉venue: 场地commotion: 混乱focus: 集中attention: 注意力unexpected: 出其不意scent: 气息photography: 摄影tenderly: 轻轻resume: 恢复tourist: 游客chaos: 混乱consume: 食用opt: 选择

Marriage: Mass weddings held across regions to promote simple ceremonies多地举办集体婚礼倡导婚事简办Couples across China are rushing to tie the knot on Wednesday and Thursday — May 20 and May 21 — two dates that sound like "I love you" when said aloud in Mandarin, with marriage registration slots fully booked weeks in advance in several major cities.全国多地情侣争相在5月20日和5月21日登记结婚——这两个日期的中文谐音均为“我爱你”。多个大城市的婚姻登记预约名额早在数周前就已约满。In Chinese, "520" is pronounced similarly to the Mandarin equivalent of "I love you", making May 20 a sought-after day for registering marriages. The following day, May 21 — or "521" — carries a similar meaning, offering a popular and much-needed alternative.在中文里，“520”的发音与“我爱你”相近，因此5月20日成为情侣登记结婚的热门日子。紧随其后的5月21日（“521”）同样寓意美好，为那些错过首日的新人提供了一个同样受欢迎且急需的备选。All slots in the 15 marriage registration offices in Guangzhou, Guangdong province, were fully booked for May 20 by the first week of this month, as they were in Shen­zhen. In Nanjing, Jiangsu province, more than 1,400 couples had reserved May 20 as their chosen date by late April, with scenic registration sites such as the Confucius Temple already at capacity. Some locations were fully booked for May 21 as well.截至5月第一周，广东省广州市15个婚姻登记处5月20日的预约名额已全部约满，深圳的情况同样如此。在江苏省南京市，截至4月底已有超过1400对新人预约了5月20日登记，夫子庙等风景优美的登记点早已满额。部分登记点5月21日的名额也已约满。Wuxi, another city in Jiangsu, has no online slots left for May 20, though local authorities said that couples could still register as walk-ins.江苏省无锡市的5月20日线上预约名额也已告罄。不过当地民政部门表示，新人仍可现场直接办理登记。For one Beijing-based couple, securing a May 20 slot required a midnight digital scramble. Guo Xiangyu, 30, a doctoral student from Xi'an in Shaanxi province, and Yan Xin, 34, an internet worker from Baoji, also in Shaanxi, booked their appointment two weeks in advance. The couple and both sets of parents logged into the system at midnight across PCs and mobile devices, and Yan managed to secure a slot. "We expected it to be crowded, so we feel very lucky," she said.对北京的一对新人而言，抢到5月20日的登记名额需要一场午夜“数字鏖战”。30岁的郭翔宇（音译）是陕西西安人，目前是一名博士生；34岁的闫昕（音译）来自陕西宝鸡，从事互联网工作。两人提前两周就预约了登记。当天午夜，他们和双方父母分头用电脑和手机登录系统，最终闫昕成功抢到了名额。“我们早知道会很火爆，所以感觉特别幸运，”闫昕说。In preparation, the couple had completed free premarital medical checks at a Beijing hospital, taken registration photos at a commercial studio and hired a photographer to document their special day near the civil affairs bureau.为迎接这一天，两人事先在北京一家医院完成了免费婚检，在商业摄影机构拍好了登记照，还专门聘请了一位摄影师，计划在民政局附近记录下这个特殊的日子。The pair met via social media, bonding over photography and skiing, and dated for two-and-a-half years before deciding to marry. They chose May 20 partly because its homophone "520" is a declaration of love in Chinese and is often seen as a Valentine's Day equivalent. "We want to celebrate our anniversary and 520 together," Yan said.两人通过社交媒体相识，因摄影和滑雪结缘，恋爱两年半后决定携手步入婚姻。他们选择5月20日登记，部分原因在于“520”谐音“我爱你”，被视为中国的情人节。“我们想把结婚纪念日和520一起庆祝，”闫昕说。Both originally from Shaanxi but living in Beijing for work and study, the couple benefited from a revised marriage regulation introduced in May 2025. The rule ended a decades-old restriction that required people to register their marriage in a place where either spouse's household registration was recorded. Now, couples can marry anywhere in the country without presenting their household registration booklet. "It saved us time and travel costs, and made us feel more connected to Beijing," Guo said.两人籍贯均为陕西，但因工作和学习长期生活在北京。2025年5月出台的婚姻登记新规让他们受益良多。这项政策打破了延续数十年的限制——过去，新人必须在其中一方的户籍所在地才能办理结婚登记。如今，情侣可以在全国任意城市登记结婚，且无需出示户口本。“新规为我们节省了时间和路费，也让我们对北京更有归属感，”郭翔宇说。Thursday or May 21 is the choice of many this year as it coincides with xiao man, or Grain Buds, a traditional Chinese solar term. Song Jian, an engineer from Sichuan province, chose this date over May 20. "The solar term carries a beautiful saying — a modest half-full state is better than perfection," he said. "That fits our relationship well. You don't have to pursue perfection in life; being content with what you have is enough."今年，5月21日也成为许多新人的首选，因为这一天恰逢中国传统二十四节气中的“小满”。来自四川的工程师宋健（音译）便放弃了5月20日，选择了这一天。“小满这个节气有一句美好的说法——‘人生小满胜万全'，”他说，“这正好契合我们的感情。人生不必事事追求完美，知足常乐就够了。”Multiple provincial-level regions have also organized mass wedding ceremonies on and around the two dates to promote simple ceremonies.多个省份还在5月20日及前后组织了集体婚礼，倡导婚事简办的新风尚。In Hainan province, collective weddings will be held on Wednesday at coastal venues, including Coconut Dream Corridor in Sanya and the Wenchang Spacecraft Launch Site. Zhejiang province hosted a ceremony on Saturday featuring 520 couples, with a main venue in Hangzhou linked to dozens of sub-venues across the province. Guangdong organized military-civilian collective weddings in Guangzhou on Monday, Zhaoqing on Sunday, Foshan on Friday and Zhongshan on Saturday, involving more than 1,000 couples.海南省于5月20日在三亚椰梦长廊、文昌航天发射场等海滨场地举办了集体婚礼。浙江省于上周末举行了一场集体婚礼，共有520对新人参与，主会场设在杭州，与省内数十个分会场联动。广东省则分别在广州、肇庆、佛山、中山举办了军地共建集体婚礼，参与新人超过1000对。"This collective wedding is a celebration that's both sweet and green, without the complicated preparations," one groom, Zhong Zhiyuan, who was part of the Guangzhou weddings, was quoted by the local media as saying.据当地媒体报道，参与广州集体婚礼的一位新郎钟志远（音译）说：“这场集体婚礼既甜蜜又‘环保'，省去了繁杂的筹备。”But not everyone is keen on getting married on popular dates. Yang Xinran, a marketing professional from the Chinese mainland who now works in the Hong Kong Special Administrative Region, registered her marriage in Beijing last September and deliberately avoided peak days. "As working people, we have to prioritize our schedules," she said.不过，并非所有人都热衷在热门日子结婚。来自内地、现于香港特别行政区从事市场营销工作的杨欣然，去年9月在北京登记结婚时就特意避开了高峰期。“我们都是有工作的人，得优先考虑自己的时间安排，”她说。Yang and her husband picked several possible dates based on their work calendars, then let their parents make the final call. "Even booking a restaurant for an anniversary is hard enough on popular dates — no need to add to the trouble," she said.杨欣然（音译）和丈夫根据各自的工作日程，先圈定几个可能的日期，最后让父母拍板决定。“热门日子光是预约餐厅庆祝纪念日就已经够难了，没必要再给自己添麻烦，”她说。In the past year, authorities processed more than 682,000 interprovincial marriages, official data showed. China saw a significant surge in marriage registrations in 2025, with 6.763 million couples registering, a 10.76 percent year-on-year increase.官方数据显示，过去一年，全国共办理跨省婚姻登记超过68.2万对。2025年，全国结婚登记数量显著回升，共有676.3万对新人登记结婚，同比增长10.76%。slot /slɒt/名额，时段sought-after /ˈsɔːt ɑːftə/热门的，抢手premarital medical checks /priːˈmærɪtəl ˈmedɪkəl tʃeks/婚前医学检查，婚检civil affairs bureau /ˈsɪvəl əˈfeəz ˈbjʊərəʊ/民政局keen on /kiːn ɒn/热衷，喜爱prioritize /praɪˈɒrɪtaɪz/优先考虑

This week on Sinica, I chat with Ali Wyne, Senior Research and Advocacy Adviser for U.S.-China at the International Crisis Group, just hours after President Trump's plane left Chinese airspace at the end of a three-day state visit to Beijing. We dig into the new framework Xi Jinping put on the table — what Beijing is calling 中美建设性战略稳定关系, a "constructive China-U.S. relationship of strategic stability" — and ask whether it's a genuine doctrine of mutual restraint or a rhetorical tripwire that future American moves can be characterized as having violated. Ali and I work through Foreign Minister Wang Yi's morning-after media briefing, including his striking claim that the U.S. side now "does not accept" Taiwan independence — a notable shift from the standard American formulation. We talk about what Trump actually said on Taiwan in his Air Force One press gaggle, the gap between Trump's account of Xi's private remarks on Iran and what Beijing is willing to say publicly, and whether AI can serve as a durable basis for cooperation coming out of the summit. We also turn to the American domestic side: the bind Democrats find themselves in trying to critique Trump's China engagement without out-hawking him, the generational data showing a striking gap in American attitudes toward China that transcends partisan division, and the question of when that shift in mass opinion actually starts to bite on policy.Full podcast page with timestamps and links forthcoming! Just wanted to get this out quickly.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

This week I'm sharing the fourth and final installment from the day-long conference convened by the Institute for America, China, and the Future of Global Affairs (ACF) at Johns Hopkins SAIS on April 3rd in Washington — “The China Debate We're Not Having: Politics, Technology, and the Road Ahead.” The first three episodes featured Jessica Chen Weiss's opening remarks and the panels on what China wants, what the United States wants, and tech rivalry and competing visions of the future. This final installment is a fireside conversation between Henry Farrell and Alondra Nelson, followed by Jessica's closing remarks.Once again, my deep thanks to Jessica Chen Weiss, ACF's inaugural faculty director, for organizing this terrific conference and for so generously letting me share this audio with Sinica listeners.Henry Farrell, the Stavros Niarchos Foundation Agora Institute Professor of International Affairs at SAIS, sits down with Alondra Nelson — Harold F. Linder Professor of Social Science at the Institute for Advanced Study and former Director of the White House Office of Science and Technology Policy — for what turns out to be the day's most generative reframing of the AI race. Henry begins by asking how it is that ideas once confined to 1980s science fiction — the singularity, AGI, brains-in-vats — have come to anchor mainstream American AI policy discourse. Alondra traces the genealogy back to the “Californian ideology” and the long history of outré thinking in Silicon Valley, but her real point is that something has shifted: U.S. negative sentiment around AI has been climbing and plateauing high since 2022, even as adoption has spread — the opposite of the usual technology-acceptance curve, and the opposite of what's happening in China, Nigeria, or Brazil.From there the conversation opens up into what I found to be its richest vein: the contrast between a Cartesian, disembodied American conception of AI — “we're working on the brains,” as Sam Altman put it when OpenAI shut down its robotics team in 2022 — and a more embodied approach that integrates the cognitive and the physical, which is part of what's powered China's advances in advanced manufacturing and robotics. Alondra is sharp on the costs of the brain-in-a-vat framing: it treats AI as a state of exception in which existing laws and institutions somehow don't apply, and it lets us float aspirational claims (”AI will cure cancer”) that elide all the clunky institutional stewardship actually required to get from aspiration to outcome.She also offers an incisive reading of the Trump administration's AI policy — which, she argues, is misleadingly described as “deregulatory.” Between export controls, the golden share in Intel, immigration restrictions on STEM talent, and the administration's tight stewardship of who wins and who loses in the AI ecosystem, this is industrial policy by another name — and a narrowing of democratic input over decisions of enormous infrastructural consequence.The conversation closes with Henry asking what a small-d democratic successor administration ought to do, and Alondra's answer is bracingly practical: get rid of the state of exception, take the material supply chain of AI seriously (data centers, electricity, critical minerals, communities), let state-level policy generate evidence about what works, and aim for high-watermark aspirations — North Stars, in the spirit of the AI Bill of Rights — rather than pretending the technology itself will deliver our values.Jessica then offers her closing remarks, thanking the panelists, previewing the ACF Insights Series, and putting out the call for new junior fellows at the Institute.Participants:Alondra Nelson, Harold F. Linder Professor of Social Science, Institute for Advanced Study; former Director, White House Office of Science and Technology PolicyHenry Farrell, Stavros Niarchos Foundation Agora Institute Professor of International Affairs, Johns Hopkins SAISClosing remarks: Jessica Chen Weiss, David M. Lampton Professor of China Studies and Inaugural Faculty Director, ACFSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Les records de température enregistrés actuellement en Asie ne relèvent plus seulement de l'urgence climatique. Ils révèlent l'émergence d'un nouveau risque économique mondial: celui d'une crise provoquée par la chaleur. Entre flambée des prix de l'énergie, tensions sur l'agriculture et ralentissement industriel, le continent asiatique fait face à un double choc, climatique et pétrolier, dont les conséquences pourraient rapidement dépasser ses frontières. Ces derniers jours, les records de température se multiplient en Asie. À première vue, cela pourrait sembler relever exclusivement de l'actualité climatique et environnementale. Pourtant, ce qui se joue aujourd'hui sur le continent asiatique dépasse largement cette seule dimension. L'Asie est en train de devenir le laboratoire d'un nouveau type de crise économique : une crise provoquée par la chaleur. Pourquoi l'Asie est-elle particulièrement vulnérable ? D'abord parce que le continent est fortement exposé aux épisodes climatiques extrêmes. Ensuite parce qu'il concentre des densités de population parmi les plus élevées du monde, des systèmes agricoles encore très dépendants des cycles naturels et des infrastructures souvent fragiles face aux événements météorologiques. Mais surtout, l'Asie demeure le moteur industriel de la planète. Une large partie de la production mondiale y est concentrée. Cela signifie qu'à chaque ralentissement asiatique, c'est l'ensemble de l'économie mondiale qui finit, d'une manière ou d'une autre, par en ressentir les effets. Or aujourd'hui, la région affronte un double choc. Le premier est énergétique. Avec les tensions au Moyen-Orient, le prix du pétrole repart à la hausse, renchérissant les coûts de production et de transport dans des économies très dépendantes des importations d'hydrocarbures. Le second est climatique. Les vagues de chaleur extrême viennent désormais aggraver cette pression déjà existante. Un double choc aux conséquences très concrètes, pour les populations comme pour les économies nationales. À lire aussiPourquoi les prix de l'électricité deviennent négatifs en Europe En Inde, la chaleur fait exploser la demande d'électricité et menace l'agriculture L'exemple de l'Inde illustre parfaitement cette nouvelle réalité économique. Ces dernières semaines, certaines régions du pays ont enregistré des températures dépassant les 47 degrés. Résultat immédiat, la consommation électrique a explosé. Face à ces chaleurs extrêmes, climatiseurs et ventilateurs tournent à plein régime, faisant grimper la demande à des niveaux records. Pour répondre à cette pression, les centrales thermiques alimentées au pétrole ou au gaz doivent elles aussi fonctionner à plein régime, ce qui accroît encore la dépendance énergétique du pays et renchérit la facture. Mais le problème ne s'arrête pas là. La chaleur menace directement l'agriculture. L'Inde dépend de la mousson pour nourrir plus d'un milliard d'habitants. Or avec des températures extrêmes, un temps plus sec et le retour probable du phénomène El Niño, les risques de baisse des récoltes augmentent fortement. Et lorsque les récoltes chutent, ce sont les prix alimentaires qui montent. Autrement dit, la chaleur devient inflationniste. Cette dynamique est déjà visible ailleurs en Asie. Aux Philippines, l'inflation dépasse 7 %. Au Pakistan, elle est déjà à deux chiffres. Dans ces économies, si les récoltes locales souffrent de la sécheresse tandis que les importations deviennent plus coûteuses à cause du pétrole, la double peine est immédiate : hausse des prix, pression sur le pouvoir d'achat et risque de ralentissement économique. Quand la chaleur menace aussi l'industrie mondiale On pourrait penser que des températures élevées favorisent naturellement les énergies renouvelables, notamment le solaire. C'est vrai en partie. Mais cette lecture reste incomplète. Une part importante de l'électricité asiatique repose encore sur l'hydroélectricité. En Inde, au Vietnam ou dans plusieurs provinces chinoises, les barrages jouent un rôle clé dans l'approvisionnement énergétique. Le problème est simple. Lorsqu'il fait plus chaud et qu'il pleut moins, les barrages produisent moins d'électricité. Ce phénomène n'a rien de théorique. Il s'est déjà produit en 2022 dans le Sichuan, en Chine. Une sécheresse historique avait alors réduit la production hydroélectrique, perturbant le fonctionnement d'usines travaillant notamment pour Apple ou Toyota. Ce précédent est révélateur. Le climat peut désormais interrompre la production industrielle mondiale. Ce qui semble d'abord être un problème local devient très vite un sujet international. Car l'Asie reste l'usine du monde. Si les usines ralentissent, les chaînes d'approvisionnement se tendent. Les pièces arrivent plus tard en Europe ou aux États-Unis, les coûts logistiques augmentent et, au bout de la chaîne, les prix montent. Certains économistes ont déjà donné un nom à ce phénomène : l'inflation par la chaleur, ou « heatflation ». Car le thermomètre ne mesure plus seulement la météo. Il mesure désormais aussi la santé de nos économies. Et visiblement, elles commencent à avoir très chaud. À lire aussiLa Corée du Sud revoit son système d'alerte météo face à la multiplication des canicules

BUFFALO, NY — May 15, 2026 — A new #review was #published in Volume 18 of Aging-US on May 4, 2026, titled “Cellular senescence: from pathogenic mechanisms to precision anti-aging interventions.” The study was led by first author Jian Deng and corresponding author Dong Yang from the Department of Targeting Therapy and Immunology, Cancer Center, West China Hospital, Sichuan University, Chengdu, Sichuan, China. In this comprehensive review, the authors examine how cellular senescence contributes to aging and age-related disease across multiple organ systems, while also highlighting the emerging complexity and functional diversity of senescent cell populations. Traditionally, senescent cells have been viewed primarily as harmful byproducts of aging, characterized by irreversible cell-cycle arrest and chronic inflammatory signaling. However, growing evidence suggests that some senescent cells also play beneficial physiological roles in tissue repair, embryonic development, and maintenance of tissue homeostasis. The review outlines how senescence develops in major tissues including the liver, lungs, kidneys, heart, adipose tissue, brain, and skin. Across these organs, aging-related cellular dysfunction is driven by a combination of oxidative stress, mitochondrial dysfunction, DNA damage, chronic inflammation, metabolic stress, telomere shortening, and environmental insults such as ultraviolet radiation and pollution. The authors describe how senescent cells accumulate in highly specialized cell populations—including hepatocytes, endothelial cells, fibroblasts, macrophages, astrocytes, and epithelial cells—where they can disrupt normal tissue architecture and promote chronic disease progression. Importantly, the article emphasizes that senescent cells are highly heterogeneous and should not be treated as a uniform population. Depending on the tissue context and biological environment, senescent cells may exert either protective or harmful effects. For example, certain senescent cells may help limit fibrosis or support wound healing, whereas others drive chronic inflammation, metabolic dysfunction, tissue degeneration, and cancer progression. This growing recognition of functional heterogeneity has prompted a major shift in anti-aging research away from indiscriminate elimination of senescent cells toward more selective and precision-based therapeutic strategies. “Based on these insights, this review summarizes the induction mechanisms of cellular senescence and the subsequent evolution of their functional phenotypes across diverse tissues.” Full press release - https://www.aging-us.com/news-room/precision-anti-aging-strategies-aim-to-target-harmful-senescent-cells-while-preserving-beneficial-ones Paper DOI - https://doi.org/10.18632/aging.206375 Corresponding author - Dong Yang – yangdong@wchscu.cn Abstract video - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HkJRwF8mp4A Keywords - cellular senescence, aging mechanisms, functional heterogeneity, precision anti-aging To learn more about the journal, please visit www.Aging-US.com​​ and connect with us on social media at: Bluesky - bsky.app/profile/aging-us.bsky.social ResearchGate - www.researchgate.net/journal/Aging-1945-4589 X - twitter.com/AgingJrnl Facebook - www.facebook.com/AgingUS/ Instagram - www.instagram.com/agingjrnl/ LinkedIn - www.linkedin.com/company/aging/ Reddit - www.reddit.com/user/AgingUS/ Pinterest - www.pinterest.com/AgingUS/ YouTube - www.youtube.com/@Aging-US Spotify - open.spotify.com/show/1X4HQQgegjReaf6Mozn6Mc MEDIA@IMPACTJOURNALS.COM

This week on Sinica, in a special episode recorded as a live joint webcast with NYRB/Poets and Equator Magazine, I sit down with Eleanor Goodman — poet, scholar, research associate at Harvard's Fairbank Center, and one of the most accomplished translators working between Chinese and English — to talk about the extraordinary Sichuan-born poet Zheng Xiaoqiong (郑小琼).Born in 1980 in a mountain village, trained as a nurse, Zheng joined the great tide of internal migration in her early 20s, ending up on the assembly line of a hardware factory in Dongguan in the Pearl River Delta. She picked up a pen after a workplace injury — part of her finger taken off by a lathe — and what came out across poems, essays, and reportage has made her one of the most singular voices in contemporary Chinese literature. Her trajectory from the assembly line to the editorial desk of an official literary magazine is, as far as I know, essentially without parallel.Eleanor has been translating Zheng since around 2013, and the partnership they've built has given Anglophone readers access to a body of work that defies easy categorization — at once intimate and historical, ethnographic and lyric, tender and unsparing. We talk about how they met, about Zheng's resistance to the "migrant worker poet" label, about the bodily feminism that runs through her verse, about her unmoralizing portraits of sex workers, about lost youth and the way the body keeps the ledger of factory time. Eleanor reads Zheng's poem "Woman Worker: Youth Pinned to a Workstation" (女工: 被固定在卡桌上的青春) in both Chinese and her English translation — and it is, every time, devastating.Huge thanks to Abigail Dunn at NYRB Poets and Ratik Asokan at Equator for organizing this conversation and for inviting me to host it, to Eleanor for her generosity and her brilliance, and most of all to Zheng Xiaoqiong, whose voice — even when she cannot be with us in person — comes through with absolute clarity.Eleanor's translation of Zheng Xiaoqiong's In the Roar of the Machine is available from NYRB Poets. The Equator selections, drawn from Zheng's long-form prose, are available at Equator Magazine.05:07 — How Eleanor and Zheng met in 2013, and why a book had to happen08:14 — Navigating the awkward proposition of China for the Western left10:50 — Zheng's trajectory: from a Sichuan village to the assembly line to the editor's desk16:29 — Resisting the "migrant worker poet" (打工诗人) label20:47 — Conventions of the genre: exhaustion, iron, lost identity, the screw in the machine24:58 — Who gets translated into English, and why28:34 — The translator's ethics: how do you render a factory poem honestly?32:42 — Eleanor reads "Woman Worker, Youth Pinned to a Workstation" (女工被固定在卡桌上的青春) in Chinese and English37:14 — Zheng's bodily feminism: irregular periods, a different way of caring40:37 — Lost youth and the passage of time44:36 — Sex work and women's labor: portraits without moralizing49:59 — Whose work actually counts in Chinese urban discourse?52:45 — Why Zheng Xiaoqiong wasn't able to join us, and how censorship really works54:44 — Rose Courtyard and what's next: classical allusions, ancestral homes, embroidering grandmothers57:39 — Audience Q&A: American worker poets, the WeChat communities of migrant writers, and Zheng's standing in Chinese lettersSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Last time we spoke about the battle of West Suiyuan. The Ma Clique, Muslim warlords controlling Northwest China, led by Ma Hongkui and Ma Hongbin, rebuffed Japanese overtures to ally, citing historical grievances like the 1900 invasion. Driven by patriotism, they aligned with the Nationalists, reorganizing forces into the 17th Army Group. In 1938, Ma Hongbin commanded West Suiyuan defenses, building fortifications in harsh desert and mountain terrain, blending cavalry tactics with modern training despite equipment shortages. In January 1940, Japanese and puppet troops advanced from Baotou, occupying Wuyuan and Linhe. Chinese forces, including Fu Zuoyi's 35th Army and Ma's 81st Army, employed guerrilla and mobile warfare. A major counterattack in March recaptured Wuyuan, killing Lt. Gen. Mizukawa and thousands, forcing Japanese retreat. Through ambushes and night raids, the Chinese recovered territories, securing Soviet aid routes and the Shaanxi-Gansu-Ningxia region. Over 2,000 Ningxia soldiers perished, their sacrifices underscoring peripheral fronts' role in national resistance.   #200 The battle of Yaoyi Welcome to the Fall and Rise of China Podcast, I am your dutiful host Craig Watson. But, before we start I want to also remind you this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Perhaps you want to learn more about the history of Asia? Kings and Generals have an assortment of episodes on history of asia and much more  so go give them a look over on Youtube. So please subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry for some more history related content, over on my channel, the Pacific War Channel where I cover the history of China and Japan from the 19th century until the end of the Pacific War. After capturing Wuhan, the Japanese army had already stretched itself dangerously thin. Most regular and Class A reserve divisions were committed to the front, yet they failed to annihilate the main Chinese force. Despite losing its core industrial and resource regions, the Nationalist government in Chongqing refused Japan's peace terms. Japan now found itself trapped in the very protracted war it had desperately sought to avoid. The logical Japanese response was to halt major advances, consolidate control over occupied areas, and conduct limited offensives to pressure Chiang Kai-shek into negotiations—essentially repeating the post-Nanjing strategy of late 1937. But the situation had deteriorated sharply: occupied territory had at least doubled, Japanese garrisons were inadequate, and strategic reserves were nearly exhausted. What might have been prudent a year earlier had become plainly unwise by late 1938.   To stabilize the front, Japan reorganized its China Expeditionary Army at the end of 1938. Large numbers of newly raised independent mixed brigades and lower-quality Class B reserve divisions were sent to relieve veteran regular and Class A divisions. The relieved units were either demobilized back to Japan or shifted north to reinforce the Kwantung Army against the Soviet threat.   By early 1940 Japan maintained roughly 24 divisions, 21 independent mixed brigades, and 2 cavalry brigades in China proper (excluding Manchuria), totaling nearly 800,000 ground troops. The enormous scale and expense strained the home economy severely. Even so, the vast occupied zones could not be effectively controlled: divisions often held only a single mobile battalion while dispersing the rest into scattered platoon- and squad-sized outposts. Guerrilla activity by both Nationalist and Communist forces not only persisted but intensified, occasionally clashing with each other in "friction" incidents.   Beyond mere occupation, Japan sought to wear down Chinese strength. With most elite Central Army units held in reserve in the southwest or around Wuhan, Japanese local offensives targeted the Fifth and Ninth War Zones, aiming to methodically destroy Chiang's best troops. Thus, while other Japanese armies focused on garrison relief and brigade substitution, the 11th Army—still holding Wuhan with seven divisions and three brigades—remained the main offensive instrument. In 1939 it captured Nanchang, then mounted major operations against the Fifth War Zone (Suizao Campaign) and Ninth War Zone (First Battle of Changsha). Except for the seizure of Nanchang, however, these offensives inflicted only limited and temporary damage on Chinese forces.   Japan's domestic economy was in even worse shape. In early 1937, it had approved a massive 2.4 billion yen naval and army rebuilding program aimed at countering the United States and Russia, but implementation had barely started when the Sino-Japanese War erupted. The conflict generated enormous war costs while military expansion continued unabated, rapidly draining the Bank of Japan's gold reserves. By the end of 1938, those reserves (valued at just 1.35 billion yen) had shrunk by more than two-thirds. To fund the Battle of Wuhan that year, Japan postponed key elements of the rebuilding plan. After Wuhan fell, the Army revised its wartime reorganization: the original target of forty divisions grew to fifty-five by early 1938, then to sixty-five divisions plus 164 Army Air Force squadrons by 1942. The funding required to equip and stockpile for this expansion escalated steadily; the 1939 expansion budget alone demanded 1.8 billion yen, pushing Japanese finances to the breaking point.   Japan repeatedly sought a way out of China, but its peace terms remained far beyond what Chongqing would accept, leaving negotiations stalled. Efforts to install puppet regimes in North and Central China—culminating in the Wang Jingwei government in 1940—aimed to "use Chinese to control Chinese" and undermine Nationalist influence, yet produced disappointing results.   The 11th Army's 1939 campaigns yielded only mediocre outcomes, hampered by chronic troop shortages. Even its divisions were tied down in occupation duties; mounting a serious offensive required pulling garrison forces, leaving no reserves to hold the line unless new units arrived. Sustained large-scale operations to seriously weaken Chinese strength demanded a major troop increase—otherwise, Japan was limited to shallow, localized attacks. Lt. Gen. Yasuji Okamura, commanding the 11th Army, recognized this clearly. In a December 1939 report, he argued that diplomacy and small offensives were futile and urged a large-scale operation backed by substantial reinforcements. His superiors, however, were preoccupied with funding the broader military buildup and could offer no extra men. The post-Wuhan "defensiveization" of operations was largely a cost-saving measure to support that expansion. Japanese ground strength in China, which peaked near 850,000 after Wuhan, had already dropped by about 50,000. Full-strength regular or Class A divisions numbered roughly 22,000 men (four regiments), while newer garrison divisions had only about 15,000 (three regiments), and independent mixed brigades just 6,000. Okamura's proposal was sensible but politically impossible; high command was even contemplating slashing China troop levels to 400,000.   The Chinese Winter Offensive of December 1939, together with counterattacks at Nanning and Kunlun Pass, inflicted serious losses and exposed the limited damage done to Chinese forces in 1939 operations. The recapture of Wuyuan in March 1940 signaled the start of a new phase. Shortly afterward, intensified Chinese guerrilla raids deep into Japanese rear areas prompted large Japanese "mop-up" operations in southern Shanxi, central Hubei, southern Jiangxi, and northern Hunan. In the Wuhan sector, repeated blows from the Winter Offensive heightened fears of Chinese forces in the Dahong and Tongbai Mountains, which threatened control over the vital Jianghan Plains rice-producing region. In mid-April 1940, the Japanese abandoned outposts at Macheng (eastern Hubei), Fengxin, and Jing'an (northern Jiangxi), withdrew elements of the 6th Division (northern Hunan), 40th Division (northern Jiangxi), and the 3rd, 13th, and 39th Divisions (Hubei), and concentrated them around Zhongxiang, Suixian, and Xinyang for a maximum-effort push.   These setbacks finally forced Tokyo to abandon deep troop reductions in China and approve reinforcements of two regular divisions for a major 1940 offensive. The revised end-1940 target became 740,000 troops in China. In spring 1940, the 11th Army—backed fully by Imperial General Headquarters and the China Expeditionary Army—began detailed preparations for a large-scale assault on China's Fifth War Zone.   On February 25, 1940, the 11th Army issued its "Guiding Strategy for the Campaign." The operational goal was to defeat the main force of China's Fifth War Zone along both banks of the Han River before the rainy season, inflict further heavy losses on Chiang Kai-shek's army through decisive victory, and thereby advance Japan's overall political and strategic position vis-à-vis China. The guiding principle called for the quickest possible preparations, with the offensive to begin around early May: first destroy Chinese forces on the left (east) bank south of the Baihe River, then completely annihilate the core units on the right (west) bank near Yichang. On April 7, under the new commander Lt. Gen. Sonobe Kazuo (who replaced Okamura Yasuji), the 11th Army produced a more detailed plan. On April 10, Imperial General Headquarters Order No. 426 ("Continental Order") authorized the China Expeditionary Army to conduct operations in central and southern China during May–June, even beyond established boundaries, to fulfill current objectives.   Japanese planners viewed the Fifth War Zone—roughly 50 divisions encircling Wuhan—with its main strength concentrated along the Han (Xiang) River in northwestern Hubei. Striking Yichang would deliver a severe blow to the zone. As the gateway to Sichuan, only 480 km from Chongqing, Yichang held immense strategic value: an inland port, Three Gorges logistics hub, and key base for air raids on Chongqing. Capturing it would directly threaten the Nationalist wartime capital and southwestern rear, advancing political leverage. Still, long-term occupation was not pre-decided; initial plans stressed inflicting maximum damage followed by withdrawal, in line with the post-Wuhan policy of avoiding permanent overextension. China, aware that holding the Jianghan Plain's rice-producing areas enabled sustained attrition against Japan, deployed guerrilla units to harass Japanese rear areas (increasing occupier losses) while tasking the River Defense Force to hold key front-line points: Jingmen, Shashi, and Yichang.   To achieve these aims, the 11th Army committed as much as possible of its seven divisions and four brigades (88 battalions total). Core units included the 3rd Division (Maj. Gen. Yamakoshi Masataka; regiments 6, 18, 34, 68), 13th Division (Maj. Gen. Tanaka Shioichi; 58, 65, 104, 116), 39th Division (Maj. Gen. Murakami Keisaku; 231–233), elements of the 40th Division, detachments from the 33rd and 34th Divisions, and others. Reinforcements comprised the Ikeda Detachment (three battalions from 6th Division), Ishimoto Detachment (four–five from 40th), Ogawa Detachment (two from 34th), and Provisional Mixed Brigade 101. Supporting assets included the 6th Field Heavy Artillery Regiment, 7th and 13th Tank Regiments, 3rd Air Group, Navy 1st China Dispatch Fleet, and 2nd Combined Air Team. The China Expeditionary Army transferred seven battalions from the 15th and 22nd Divisions (13th Army, lower Yangtze). The main effort north of the river involved roughly 48–54 battalions, or 80,000–110,000 men, making the Zaoyi (Zaoyang–Yichang) Campaign the largest Japanese operation on the central front since Wuhan. Sonobe's staff structured the offensive in two phases. Phase One targeted the Fifth War Zone's main force around Zaoyang (east of the Han River) through converging pincer movements: right flank from Xinyang (reinforced 3rd Division), left flank from Zhongxiang (reinforced 13th Division), and central thrust by the reinforced 39th Division from Suixian. The plan exploited terrain—Dahong and Tongbai Mountains—for encirclement. After seizing Minggang (right flank) and advancing from Zhongxiang (left), the pincers would close on Zaoyang, with the center (along the Xianghua Highway from Suixian) drawing Chinese forces into the trap for envelopment. Diversionary attacks south of the Yangtze, propaganda hinting at limited scope, and planted false orders helped mask intentions. Japanese radio intelligence—intercepts and direction-finding of Chinese headquarters signals—provided critical advantages, especially in later stages.   By March 1940, Chinese intelligence had already detected the 11th Army's intent to mount a major offensive from Xinyang and Wuhan into northwestern Hubei. On April 10, Chiang Kai-shek telegraphed Li Zongren and other Fifth War Zone commanders, urging immediate preparations for a preemptive strike against any push toward Shapingba and Yichang. He emphasized proactive flanking attacks on Japanese rear areas via Wusheng Pass and threats to the Pinghan Railway, while keeping main forces east of the Han River for decisive engagement once the enemy committed.   Following Military Commission directives, the Fifth War Zone devised a plan that used part of its strength for forward advances and deep raids into Japanese rear areas to harass and divert. The bulk of forces would hold the rear, seizing chances for preemptive strikes and a decisive battle east of Zaoyang or south of Jingmen–Dangyang. Deployments included: the 33rd Army Group garrisoning the Xiang River; in the center, the 45th Corps (22nd Army Group) west of Luoyangdian–Suixian and the 84th Corps (11th Army Group) north of Suixian–south of Gaocheng; in southern Henan, the 30th Corps east of Tongbai and the 68th Corps north of Pingchangguan–Minggang; the 41st Corps in reserve near Xiangyang; the 29th Army Group (with part garrisoning north of Tongqiao Zhen–Sanyangtien) concentrated in the Dahong Mountains; and the 31st Army Group positioned between Queshan and Ye Hsien as the mobile force to strike invaders. River Defense Army commander Guo Chan controlled the 26th, 75th, and 94th Armies, the 128th Division, and the 6th and 7th Guerrilla Columns. Total Chinese strength approximated 350,000–380,000 men across roughly 50–54 divisions. To mask preparations and mislead, the Japanese conducted a late-April "mop-up" near Jiujiang, staged naval feints on Poyang and Dongting Lakes, and bombed key points in Hunan and Jiangxi, simulating an imminent Ninth War Zone operation.   With forces assembled, the Japanese offensive began May 1, 1940, from Xinyang, Suixian, and Zhongxiang. The advance split into five routes: (1) Changtaiguan–Minggang–Biyang–Tanghe; (2) Xinyang–Tongbai; (3) Suixian–Zaoyang; (4) Suixian–Wujiadien; (5) Zhongxiang–Shuangkou. Employing flanking with central breakthrough, the reinforced 3rd Division (right flank, including Ishimoto Detachment from 40th Division with tanks and engineers) spearheaded from Xinyang toward Biyang, breaching the Chinese Second Army front on day one. By May 1, elements of the 3rd and 40th Divisions captured Minggang, Lion's Bridge, and Xiaolintien; on May 5 they took Biyang and Tongbai. The Chinese 31st Army Group (northeast of Biyang) linked with the 68th and 92nd Corps to hit Japanese flanks and rear. Leaving some forces west of Tongbai to press the enemy, the main 30th Corps struck Japanese flanks. After seizing Tanghe on May 7, the Japanese pushed south toward Zaoyang. On May 8–9, the 31st Army Group retook Tanghe and Xinye, pursuing vigorously. On May 8, the Japanese left flank (13th Division) attacked from Zhongxiang, breaking through the 33rd Army front the same day.   On May 3, the Japanese 13th Division—supported by over 20 tanks, 40 aircraft, artillery, and cavalry—advanced north from Zhongxiang, capturing Changshoudian and Tianjiachi. It seized Fengyao and Changjiachi by May 6. Chinese 33rd Army Group forces used favorable terrain to intercept, while the 29th Army Group struck Japanese flanks and rear at Changjiachi and Wangjiadian, and the 41st Corps fought tenaciously to halt the advance. By May 7, Japanese spearheads reached Changjiachi on the Zaoyang–Xiangyang Highway, with elements entering Shuangkou; their rear cavalry took Xinye on May 8. Fifth War Zone commander Zhang Zizhong personally led attacks along Tianjiachi–Huanglongtang, supported by fierce 29th Army Group assaults on Japanese rear.   The Japanese 39th Division and a 6th Division brigade delayed their assault on the Chinese 11th Army Group until May 4 from Suixian. After overrunning Gaocheng and Anchu on May 5, Chinese forces withdrew to Huantan–Tang Hsien–north of Gaocheng. As the 33rd Army Group faltered, part of the 11th Army Group reinforced it; the 175th Division held at Tang Hsien while the main body fell back toward Zaoyang. During the maneuver, Japanese tanks enveloped at Tang Hsien, cutting the Zaoyang–Xiangyang Highway and forcing bitter fighting by the 174th Division. To break out, Chinese abandoned Zaoyang, using the 173rd Division for rearguard resistance while the bulk shifted west of the Tang and Bai Rivers. Japanese captured Suiyangdian and Wujiadien on May 7, Zaoyang on May 8; the 173rd Division suffered heavy losses, including the death of its commander, Gen. Zhong Yi.   On May 10, Japanese completed an encirclement east of Xiangdong along the Tang and Bai Rivers—but it collapsed as Chinese exterior forces outflanked both Japanese wings and compressed the center, trapping much of the Japanese in the Xiangdong Plains. The Chinese 2nd and 31st Army Groups plus 92nd Corps pressed south, 39th and 75th Corps east, and 33rd and 29th Army Groups north against the pocket. The 94th Corps advanced along the Han–Yichang Highway deep into Jingshan, Zaoshi, Yingcheng, and Yunmeng to sever Japanese rear communications. Meanwhile, the 7th Corps and eastern Hubei guerrillas seized Jigong Shan, Lijiachai, and Liulin station on the Beijing–Hankou Railway. The 92nd and 68th Corps retook Zaoyang, Tongbai, and Minggang, encircling four Japanese divisions in the Xiangdong Plains. By May 11, battered Japanese retreated eastward under pursuit, Chinese flanking and rear attacks leaving many dead on the field. The 31st Army Group recovered Zaoyang on May 16. Chinese reports claimed 45,000 Japanese casualties, plus capture of over 60 guns, 2,000+ horses, 70+ tanks, and 400+ trucks. The 33rd Army Group fought fiercely to intercept retreating columns, driving large Japanese remnants toward Nanguadian.   Tragically, on May 16 noon, Gen. Zhang Zizhong—personally commanding his Guard Battalion and main 74th Division—was killed in action. With pressure eased on the Japanese left, they counterattacked and retook Zaoyang on May 17. Chinese forces withdrew to Xinye on the Tangbai River's west bank and north of the Tang River, regrouping for a renewed counteroffensive.   The Military Commission anticipated a Japanese withdrawal to original lines, likely along the rain-impassable Xianghua Road. Exploiting the enemy's supply shortages, exhaustion, and retreat difficulties, it ordered Fifth War Zone units to encircle and annihilate Japanese forces near the battlefield, then pursue toward Yingcheng–Huayuan. The zone promptly launched a counteroffensive. By nightfall on May 8, Japanese pincers neared junction, having inflicted serious damage on the Chinese 84th Army but achieved little else. Nonetheless, the 11th Army ordered frontline divisions to withdraw to the Tanghe–Baihe line after reaching it, preparatory to encircling Chinese forces west of the Han River. Chongqing issued general offensive orders at 8 PM and 11 PM that night. By then, six divisions of the 31st Army Group advanced south from Nanyang in the north, five from the 33rd Army Group pressed from the south, and five from the 45th and 94th Armies pursued in the southeast—nearly completing the Japanese encirclement. Intense combat erupted.   On May 10, retreating Japanese first clashed with the advancing 33rd Army Group from the south. Seizing the moment, they ordered the 13th and 39th Divisions plus Ikeda Detachment south to smash it, with the 3rd Division covering the northern flank. Full-scale battle broke out on May 12: two Japanese divisions assaulted five Chinese divisions of the 33rd Army Group, plunging them into desperate fighting. Japanese radio intercepts—including telegrams between the Military Commission and Fifth War Zone, plus Zhang Zizhong's report to Chiang on his five divisions' movements—revealed exact positions and plans. Sonobe Kazuo concentrated the 13th and 39th Divisions to strike south along the Han's east bank against Zhang's army group, while ordering the 3rd Division (south of Xinye) back to Zaoyang to guard the rear. Direction-finding had long pinpointed the 33rd Army Group headquarters radio (call signs and bearings) about 10 km northeast of Yicheng. With air support, the Japanese encircled it. On the night of May 15, the 39th Division advanced from Fangjiaji and Nanying toward Nanguadian, completing tactical encirclement by dawn on May 16. Artillery-supported four-sided assaults followed. The defending 74th Division resisted fiercely with repeated counterattacks. Fighting raged into the afternoon, with the Special Service Battalion joining. Japanese attackers swelled to over 5,000, backed by concentrated artillery and 20+ aircraft for a final push. Zhang Zizhong, wounded multiple times, continued commanding calmly until a severe chest wound killed him heroically. The exhausted, isolated 74th Division and battalion suffered devastating losses. That day, the 13th Division also routed the main 33rd Army Group force, breaking the southern encirclement. Japanese then redeployed, concentrating around Zaoyang.   In the north, 17 divisions (including six from the 31st Army Group) attacked the isolated Japanese 3rd Division from east, south, and north, severing its supply lines. With limited ammunition and no resupply, the division faced crisis; its 29th Brigade telegram pleaded: "Enemy fighting spirit extremely high... safe return very difficult; request battalion reinforcements." Yet southern Chinese forces remained undestroyed amid chaos. Japanese choices narrowed to independent 3rd Division retreat or holding for relief. They opted to lure pursuers: ordering the division southeast toward Zaoyang to draw Chinese into pursuit. From May 16–18, the 3rd Division fought a delaying retreat; relentless Chinese pursuit inflicted limited damage due to insufficient firepower, allowing escape. By evening May 18, it reached northeast of Zaoyang and prepared offensives. The 13th and 39th Divisions, after defeating the 33rd Army Group, also advanced north to the Zaoyang line.   The 3rd Division's retreat shortened Japanese lines and hastened convergence. Unsuspecting Chinese pursued to Zaoyang. After a successful counterattack northeast of Yicheng, the 13th and 39th Divisions rejoined the 3rd Division there. On May 19 morning, three Japanese divisions attacked abreast, forcing decisive battle along the Tang River. Chinese divisions collapsed within hours; the 75th Army took heavy losses, others significant casualties. Fifth War Zone ordered hasty retreat. Japanese pursued vigorously. By May 21, the 3rd Division reached Dengxian, 13th east of Laohekou, 39th Fancheng. Early that day, the 39th Division—crossing the Baihe—met fierce west-bank fire, losing Regiment Commander Kanzaki Tetsujiro and over 300 men. That evening, the 11th Army halted pursuit, ending east-bank (Xiang River) fighting. The 20+ day operation east of the Han inflicted heavy Japanese losses, far exceeding the planned duration, leaving troops exhausted. After halting, units withdrew to Zaoyang vicinity for rest and reorganization rather than immediate return to base positions. Commanders debated proceeding to Yichang west of the Han: abandoning the plan would signal Phase One failure, eroding authority and imperial trust. Most argued troop fatigue and casualties should not deter continuation. Over 1,000 tons of supplies rushed forward via six motor companies. Following east-bank termination, Japanese consolidated for the next phase targeting Yichang. Reinforcements arrived: the 4th Division from Manchuria and 18th Independent Brigade from Wuning. The 4th Division assumed Shayang–Zhongxiang positions east of the Xiang River.   The Japanese bombarded the west bank of the Han River for ninety minutes before forcing a crossing at Wangji north of Yicheng. That midnight, the 3rd Division also crossed southeast of Xiangyang. Both met little resistance and completed crossings before dawn. The 11th Army left the 40th Division at Dahongshan for rear-area mopping-up and assigned the Xiaochuan and Cangqiao Detachments to guard mobile supply depots. On May 31 night, the 3rd and 39th Divisions crossed the Xiang River at Yicheng and Oujiamiao. After seizing Xiangyang on June 1 night, the main force split into columns crossing westward. By June 3, Japanese captured Nanzhang and Yicheng. The Chinese 41st Corps fiercely counterattacked, retaking part of Xiangyang while its main body battled around Nanzhang; the 77th Corps also struck hard. On June 4, Chinese recovered Nanzhang, forcing Japanese retreat southward. Meanwhile, the 13th Division and elements of the 6th Division forced a crossing on the Han–Yichang Highway near Jiukou and Shayang to link with southern columns for a joint push. The Chinese River Defense Force shifted its main strength to key positions, using terrain to block southward advances. The 2nd and 31st Army Groups pursued south separately. Chinese abandoned Shayang on June 5; Japanese took Jingmen, Shilipu, and Shihujiao on June 6. The 77th Corps and river defense units resisted stubbornly from Jingmen to Jiangling. After retaking Yicheng, the 2nd Army Group continued pursuit. Japanese concentrated around Jingmen–Shilipu as Jiangling fell.   On June 9 morning, Japanese launched joint air-ground assaults from Dongshi to Dangyang and Yuanan. By afternoon, penetrating the Chinese right flank forced a night withdrawal to Gulaobei–Shuanlianshi–Dangyang along the Zu River to Yuanan. June 10 saw Japanese capture Gulaobei and Dangyang, pushing Chinese to Yichang outskirts. After days of heavy fighting and prohibitive losses, Chinese abandoned Yichang on their own initiative. The 2nd and 31st Army Groups then reached Dangyang north of Jingmen. On June 16, they mounted a general offensive. By June 17, Chinese briefly retook Yichang; the 2nd Army Group linked with the 77th Corps against Dangyang, while the 31st Army Group severed Dangyang–Jingmen communications and assaulted Jingmen violently. South of the Yangtze, the 5th and 32nd Divisions crossed to hit Shayang and Shilipu. By June 18, Japanese main force held stubbornly from Dangyang to the Xiang River with superior equipment. Chinese, fighting on exterior lines, formed an encirclement from Jiangling–Yichang–Dangyang–Zhongxiang–Suixian–north of Xinyang while maintaining surveillance. Thus, the Zaoyi (Zaoyang–Yichang) Campaign ended. No prior decision existed on holding Yichang long-term. Per post-Wuhan Imperial General Headquarters policy, even extended operations aimed only to inflict severe blows and erode Chinese resistance, not expand occupation. On capture day, the 11th Army declared objectives achieved, ordering reorganization, destruction of Yichang military facilities, and dumping irremovable captured supplies into the Yangtze preparatory to withdrawal. At 10 PM June 15, formal orders withdrew to the Han's east bank: 3rd and 39th Divisions first to Dangyang–Jingmen to cover, then the 13th Division. The 13th began retreating from Yichang at midnight June 16, reaching Tumenya (10 km east) by 7 AM June 17. Chinese counterattacked along the route; the 18th Army pursued and retook Yichang morning of June 17. Japanese held Yichang only four days.   Intense debate erupted between frontline commanders and Imperial General Headquarters over retaining Yichang. With Nazi Germany's Western Europe offensive underway—Paris fell June 12, the day Yichang was taken—global upheaval intensified Japanese urgency to resolve China swiftly and free resources for wider competition. Many in high command and China Expeditionary Army argued long-term occupation would threaten Chongqing more directly, aid political maneuvers, and hasten settlement, offering immense strategic value. This swayed the Emperor, who inquired at the June 15 Imperial Conference about securing it. Backed by imperial support, high command ordered temporary retention (one month) on June 16. By transmission through Expeditionary Army and 11th Army channels, the rearguard 13th Division had withdrawn 52 km. With 3rd Division cooperation, it reversed, broke Chinese resistance, and retook Yichang afternoon June 17. On July 1, to offset expanded 11th Army responsibilities, General Headquarters transferred the 4th Division from Kwantung Army (Jiamusi, Heilongjiang) to 11th Army control. July 13 orders confirmed long-term Yichang retention, redefining Wuhan-region operations to Anqing–Xinyang–Yichang–Yueyang–Nanchang. The 11th Army assigned: 13th Division to Yichang, 4th Division to Anlu, 18th Independent Mixed Brigade east/west of Dangyang; remaining units returned to original defenses.   Post-recapture, Chinese continued counterattacks on Yichang and rear lines until ordered to halt: "To adapt to international changes, preserve National Army combat strength, and facilitate reorganization, Fifth War Zone cease attacks on Yichang immediately." A stalemate followed along lines encircling Yichang, Dangyang, Jiangling, Jingmen, Zhongxiang, Suixian, and Xinyang. To shield Chongqing and Sichuan, Nationalists re-established the Sixth War Zone (briefly created post-First Changsha, abolished April 1940), appointing Chen Cheng commander-in-chief with 33rd and 29th Army Groups, River Defense Army, and 18th Army covering western Hubei, western Hunan, eastern Sichuan. The Zaoyi campaign thus concluded. Japanese combat power again proved markedly superior. Official Japanese records (11th Army/China Expeditionary Army) reported 2,700 killed, ~7,800 wounded (total ~10,500; some phases ~1,403 killed/4,639 wounded). Chinese admitted heavy losses: 36,983 killed, 50,509 wounded, 23,000 missing (total >110,000 in some accounts). Wartime Nationalist claims inflated Japanese casualties to 45,000 killed/wounded with major captures (60+ guns, 70+ tanks, 400+ trucks), likely propagandistic; Japanese sources show far lower equipment losses. With 56 battalions deployed, Japanese suffered 12–15% combat casualties; Chinese (54 divisions, ~380,000 men) incurred 25–30% or higher—underscoring firepower/equipment disparity. Japan achieved tactical success by securing Yichang long-term (as a Chongqing bombing base) but failed to annihilate the main Chinese force or compel peace. Chinese resistance thwarted full encirclement and imposed attrition, albeit at crippling cost to the Fifth War Zone—severely weakened and never fully recovering until war's end. Japanese aims were realized to a significant, though not decisive, degree.   The Fifth War Zone's operational plan was fundamentally sound. Chinese intelligence detected Japanese intentions early, accurately predicted the attack axis, and deployed accordingly. The plan included preemptive strikes at Wusheng Pass and the Guangshui section of the Pinghan Railway to harass Japanese rear areas, threaten Wuhan, gather reconnaissance, and disrupt enemy preparations. Though well conceived, these actions never materialized. In the first phase (Xiangdong operations), Chinese forces resisted while shifting the main body to outer lines, securing mobile flanking positions. This frustrated Japanese encirclement efforts in the Xiangdong Plains. Exploiting the enemy's retreat, China launched a timely counteroffensive that encircled the Japanese 3rd Division. Despite breakout support from over 100 aircraft and 200 tanks, the poorly equipped Chinese inflicted heavy casualties during the three-day siege, blunting the division's momentum.    On the southern front, the 33rd Army Group's intercepting deployment was appropriate, but insufficient strength and compromised communications allowed the Japanese 13th and 39th Divisions to counterattack decisively, inflicting major losses and claiming the heroic death of Commander-in-Chief Zhang Zizhong—whose steadfast patriotism remains a lasting source of national pride. Overall, Chinese assessments and deployments in Phase One were largely correct. The battlefield showed China retained initiative and was not wholly dominated by Japanese plans. The core issue was overestimation of Chinese combat power amid severe shortages of heavy weapons. At least three corps suffered heavy attrition, yet Japanese captured only twenty-three mountain/field guns. Relying on manpower for brute force left Chinese units critically undergunned, enabling repeated encirclement attempts but preventing decisive destruction or severe damage to encircled enemies like the 3rd Division.   Phase Two, by contrast, was entirely passive. The initial Japanese Han River crossings were largely feints, yet the west bank received scant attention in overall planning—leaving Yichang virtually undefended as main forces deployed east of the river. Post-Phase One, Japan reinforced the 11th Army with three infantry battalions and one mountain artillery battalion from the 13th Army (lower Yangtze), plus six motor transport companies rushing massive supplies forward. Chinese intelligence missed these moves, remaining complacent in expectation of Japanese withdrawal eastward. After regrouping, Japan abruptly pivoted west with rapid advances. The Military Commission and Fifth War Zone, caught unprepared, made frantic, chaotic adjustments that failed to mount effective defense. The loss of strategically vital Yichang was inevitable, complicating the resistance both militarily and psychologically. This stemmed directly from command misjudgment of Japanese strategic and operational aims. Had plans anticipated a westward thrust and retained strong reserves—or detected the 10-day regrouping window to readjust deployments—China could have retained greater initiative, inflicted more damage, and reduced its own losses.   I would like to take this time to remind you all that this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Please go subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry after that, give my personal channel a look over at The Pacific War Channel at Youtube, it would mean a lot to me. Japan's 11th Army launched an offensive in Hubei to encircle Chinese forces in the Fifth War Zone and seize Yichang for bombing Chongqing. Chinese troops countered effectively, encircling Japanese divisions and inflicting heavy losses, though General Zhang Zizhong was killed in action. After intense fighting east of the Han River, Japanese crossed west, captured Yichang, briefly withdrew, then retook and held it long-term. 

This week I'm sharing the third installment from the day-long conference convened by the Institute for America, China, and the Future of Global Affairs (ACF) at Johns Hopkins SAIS on April 3rd in Washington — "The China Debate We're Not Having: Politics, Technology, and the Road Ahead." The first two episodes featured Jessica Chen Weiss's opening remarks and the panels on what China wants and what the United States wants. This week's panel — "Tech, Rivalry, and Competing Visions of the Future" — turns to the domain that, more than any other, has come to define how Washington thinks about the U.S.-China relationship: technology, and especially AI. Once again, my deep thanks to Jessica Chen Weiss, ACF's inaugural faculty director, for organizing this terrific conference and for so generously letting me share this audio with Sinica listeners. Moderator Kat Duffy of the Council on Foreign Relations opens by interrogating the very framing of the panel: is "rivalry" actually the right word for what's going on between the U.S. and China in tech? The panelists give a range of answers — from "yes, because both sides believe it is" to Samm Sacks's pithy rejoinder that "rivalry serves specific actors and specific interests." From there the conversation ranges across the FCC's recent move to bar most foreign-made routers, the pitfalls of framing AI competition as a sprint to AGI rather than what Jeff Ding calls a "diffusion marathon," the many internal Chinas that get flattened in DC discourse, the cybersecurity reciprocity problem (Volt Typhoon, Salt Typhoon, and what President Trump tellingly admitted about all of it), and what it would actually mean for the U.S. to compete by being its best self — what one panelist memorably calls "Americamaxxing." There's a lot of substance packed into this hour, and a lot of generative pushback against received DC wisdom. The audience Q&A at the end takes up the role of race and xenophobia in the discourse — a topic that, as one questioner pointedly notes, had been conspicuously absent from the day's earlier discussions. Panelists:— Samm Sacks, Senior Fellow, New America and Yale Law School— Jeff Ding, Assistant Professor of Political Science, George Washington University— Mieke Eoyang, Visiting Professor, Carnegie Mellon University; former Deputy Assistant Secretary of Defense for Cyber Policy— Selina Xu, Lead for China and AI Policy, Office of Eric Schmidt Moderator: Kat Duffy, Senior Fellow for Digital and Cyberspace Policy, Council on Foreign RelationsSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Tourists shift focus to local destinations as uncertainty looms for outbound trips出境游不确定性隐现，游客目光转向国内目的地Rising jet fuel costs and uncertainty over international air routes are driving a shift from outbound to domestic travel, with Chinese tourism platforms predicting that this year's Labor Day holiday is expected to see a surge in domestic tourism.航空燃油价格上涨、国际航线前景不明，正促使游客从出境游转向国内游。多家国内旅游平台预测，今年五一劳动节假期将迎来国内旅游热潮。The Labor Day public holiday in China this year is a five-day break from May 1 to 5.今年中国劳动节假期为5月1日至5日，共5天。Data from online travel agency Qunar showed that bookings for long-haul trips to domestic destinations over 800 kilometers away have increased more than 30 percent year-on-year, while hotel reservations in popular third-tier and smaller cities have doubled.在线旅游平台去哪儿的数据显示，800公里以上的国内长线游预订量同比增长超30%，而热门三四线及小城市的酒店预订量翻了一番。According to a report by the online travel platform Tuniu, bookings for domestic package tours during the Labor Day holiday increased 10 percent year-on-year, with self-drive tour bookings surging over 50 percent and free independent travel bookings rising nearly 20 percent.途牛旅游网发布的报告显示，五一假期国内跟团游预订量同比增长10%，自驾游预订量增幅超50%，自由行预订量增长近20%。As overseas travel becomes less predictable, many Chinese tourists are opting for more relaxed, immersive domestic experiences. Among emerging trends is "lie-flat travel" — low-key, quality stays in smaller cities, often in star hotels that cost a fraction of those in first-tier cities.随着出境游不确定性增多，不少中国游客开始选择更悠闲、更具沉浸感的国内体验。其中，“躺平式旅行”成为新趋势——在小城市享受低调而高品质的住宿，往往入住星级酒店，花费仅为一线城市的零头。For example, an office worker surnamed Qi from Wuhan, the capital of Hubei province, chose Jiayu, a small county in Hubei, about an hour's drive from her home. "Deciding to travel to my doorstep made me feel relaxed," she said. "I booked a very nice hotel for only a third of the price in a first-tier city, saving me 1,000 yuan ($146)."例如，来自湖北武汉的上班族齐女士选择了距家约一小时车程的湖北嘉鱼县。她说：“决定到家门口旅行让我感到格外放松。我订了一家很不错的酒店，价格只有一线城市的三分之一，一下子省了1000元（约合146美元）。”Another traveler, Lyu Qing, a Beijing resident who used to take her child abroad every holiday, opted this time for Luzhou, a lesser-known city in Sichuan province. "Flights to Europe are too expensive without stopovers in the Middle East, and routes to Southeast Asia are uncertain," she said. "So I chose a small domestic city — fewer crowds, cheaper and more reliable."另一位游客吕青家住北京，以往每个假期都会带孩子出境游玩，这次则选择了不那么知名的四川泸州。她说：“飞欧洲的机票不经停中东就太贵了，东南亚航线又充满不确定性。所以我选了个国内小城，人少、便宜，也更靠谱。”Qunar data showed that hotel bookings in destinations such as Ding'an in Hainan province surged 8.7 times year-on-year, while Luzhou in Sichuan saw a fivefold increase and Zhongshan in Guangdong province a fourfold rise. The average price of luxury hotels in popular small cities is more than 40 percent lower than in first-tier cities such as Beijing and Shanghai, with some county-level luxury hotels charging as little as 300 yuan per night during the holiday peak period.去哪儿数据显示，海南定安等目的地的酒店预订量同比增长8.7倍，四川泸州增长5倍，广东中山增长4倍。热门小城市的豪华酒店均价比北京、上海等一线城市低四成以上，部分县域豪华酒店在假期高峰每晚仅需300元。The introduction of a spring break from late April to early May in about 30 cities — including Hangzhou and Ningbo in Zhejiang province, Changsha in Hunan province and Shenyang in Liaoning province — has encouraged families to travel earlier, thereby easing congestion during the traditional peak period. Qunar said that staggered spring breaks across regions have effectively extended the holiday period to 17 days, from April 24 to May 10.此外，包括浙江杭州、宁波，湖南长沙和辽宁沈阳在内的约30个城市，在4月底至5月初设置了春假，鼓励家庭提前出行，从而缓解传统高峰期的拥堵。去哪儿表示，各地错峰安排的春假实际上已将假期时段拉长至17天，即4月24日到5月10日。Tuniu said that the travel boom in Zhejiang is expected to start early, from Tuesday, driven by the spring break. The combined spring break and Labor Day holiday has created an extended "3+5" vacation, with local bookings surging by 135 percent year-on-year for the period.途牛称，受春假带动，浙江的出行热潮预计从周二起就已启动。春假与劳动节假期叠加，形成了“3+5”的超长休假模式，当地同期预订量同比飙升135%。According to Qunar, trips during the weekends before and after the holiday have increased by 20 percent year-on-year, with average round-trip airfares about 40 percent cheaper than flying on April 30 or May 5. Meanwhile, bookings for multi-city itineraries — covering two or more destinations — have risen 118 percent year-on-year, while bookings for self-drive tours have climbed nearly 60 percent.据去哪儿统计，五一假期前后的周末出行人次同比增长20%，往返机票均价比4月30日或5月5日出行便宜约四成。同时，涵盖两个及以上目的地的多城行程预订量同比增长118%，自驾游预订量增长近六成。Lyu Ning, dean of Beijing International Studies University's School of Tourism Sciences, said the shift in demand from high-end outbound travel toward domestic long-haul trips would accelerate innovation in domestic tourism products.北京第二外国语学院旅游科学学院院长吕宁表示，从高端出境游转向国内长线游的需求变化，将加速国内旅游产品创新。"Traditional sightseeing is being replaced by immersive experiences, niche destinations, light luxury getaways and loop self-drive tours," said Lyu. "Tourists now prioritize safety, immersive experiences and value for money, and are developing a growing appreciation for China's natural and cultural assets."“传统的观光游正被沉浸式体验、小众目的地、轻奢度假和环线自驾所取代。”吕宁说，“游客如今更看重安全、沉浸式体验和性价比，对国内自然和人文资源的欣赏也在不断加深。”She called on domestic destinations to benchmark international service standards and develop small but refined leisure travel concepts. She said that local governments should tap into county-level cultural and tourism resources, such as Ding'an in Hainan and Luzhou in Sichuan, and integrate hot spring wellness, healing retreats and folk customs to fill the gap in the market for high-end domestic vacations.她呼吁国内旅游目的地对标国际服务标准，打造“小而精”的休闲度假概念。吕宁表示，地方政府应充分挖掘县域文旅资源，如海南定安、四川泸州等地，将温泉康养、疗愈度假和民俗风情结合起来，填补国内高端度假市场空白。Lyu also stressed the need for smart governance. Big data and digital platforms should be used to monitor real-time crowd densities and implement dynamic early warning systems and intelligent diversion strategies. She said that strict caps on scenic area capacity, online reservations, timed entry and route diversification are essential to prevent overcrowding and ensure travel quality.吕宁还强调了智慧治理的必要性。她指出，应利用大数据和数字平台实时监测人流密度，实施动态预警和智能分流策略。严格执行景区容量上限、线上预约、分时入园和路线多样化，对于防止过度拥挤、保障出游品质至关重要。long-haul trip /ˌlɒŋ ˈhɔːl trɪp/长途旅行package tour /ˈpækɪdʒ tʊə/跟团游immersive /ɪˈmɜːsɪv/沉浸式的stopover /ˈstɒpˌəʊvə/中途停留congestion /kənˈdʒestʃən/拥堵staggered spring breaks /ˈstæɡəd sprɪŋ breɪks/错峰春假getaway /ˈɡetəweɪ/短假tap into /tæp ˈɪntuː/挖掘

The nationwide rollout of China's departure tax refund service, which smoothly reached its one-year mark this month, has effectively stimulated inbound travel and increased consumption vitality, experts said.专家表示，中国离境退税全国性推广本月初平稳迎来实施一周年，有效刺激了入境旅游，激发了消费活力。The policy governing the service aims to further enhance the convenience of departure tax refunds for overseas visitors and optimize their shopping experience. Travelers purchasing tax-refundable items at designated stores across the country can receive a spot refund in renminbi upon signing an agreement and processing a credit card preauthorization.该政策旨在进一步提升境外旅客离境退税的便利性，优化其购物体验。在全国各地指定商店购买可退税商品的旅客，在签署协议并办理信用卡预授权后，即可现场领取人民币退税款。China's tax authorities and relevant government organs have actively encouraged eligible stores to offer this "buy and get a refund" service, with their total number currently exceeding 8,000, surging more than 100 percent since the policy was adopted in April last year.中国税务部门及相关政府机构积极鼓励符合条件的商店提供“买即退”服务。自去年4月该政策实施以来，提供该项服务的商店总数已超过8000家，增幅超过100%。As the service continues to expand, more overseas visitors are receiving spot tax refunds on a wider range of goods, further spurring consumption.随着该服务的持续扩展，越来越多的境外旅客在更广泛的商品品类上享受到了现场退税，进一步刺激了消费。According to data from the State Taxation Administration, the number of individuals processing refunds nationwide over the past year increased by 12.96 times. Both the tax-refundable sales volume and the total refund amount increased by 9.35 times over the past year, marking a rapid growth in scale.根据国家税务总局的数据，过去一年全国办理退税的人数增长了12.96倍。退税销售额和退税总额均增长了9.35倍，呈现出规模化快速增长趋势。Fan Yong, dean of the Central University of Finance and Economics' School of Public Finance and Taxation, said the promotion and implementation of the service have effectively stimulated inbound consumption vitality.中央财经大学财政税务学院院长樊勇表示，该项服务的推广落地有效激发了入境消费活力。"It stands as an important achievement in China's continuous effort to optimize its business environment, and has promoted local brands on the international stage," Fan added.他补充道：“这是我国持续优化国际化营商环境的重要成果，亦有力促进了本土品牌走向国际舞台。”To further enhance the business environment, local tax authorities have actively explored ways to upgrade the service over the past year.为持续优化营商环境，过去一年，各地税务部门积极探索服务升级路径。For instance, Beijing has introduced a citywide processing system, allowing inbound travelers to shop at any tax refund store in the Chinese capital and process their refunds at a centralized location in the city.例如，北京推出了全城通办系统，允许入境旅客在首都的任何一家退税商店购物，并在市内的集中退付点办理退税手续。Sichuan province has launched a refund system based on a QR code, enabling overseas visitors to quickly complete the process and receive instant refunds by simply uploading photos of their application forms, valid identification documents and shopping invoices.四川省推出基于二维码的退税系统，境外旅客只需上传退税申请单、有效身份证件和购物发票的照片，即可快速完成退税手续，实时收到退税款。Shenzhen in Guangdong province has expanded its diversified electronic refund system by launching a real-time transfer service to WeChat Pay HK wallets for visitors from the Hong Kong Special Administrative Region.广东省深圳市通过推出微信香港钱包实时到账服务，扩展了其多元化的电子退税体系，方便香港特别行政区旅客办理退税。It has also introduced a "digital RMB hard wallet" refund method, which involves a prepaid card that allows travelers to receive and use their refund instantly without needing a bank account or internet connection.该市还推出了“数字人民币钱包”退税方式，即一种预付卡，旅客无需银行账户或网络连接即可实时接收和使用退税款。Gary Cai, a partner at professional services firm KPMG and head of KPMG China Economic Research Institute, said that optimizing departure tax refunds and the payment environment lowers transaction costs for overseas visitors.毕马威中国合伙人、毕马威中国经济研究院院长蔡伟表示，优化离境退税和支付环境降低了境外旅客的交易成本。"This turns potential desire into real consumption," he said, adding that inbound consumption effectively supplements domestic demand and helps optimize the nation's overall trade structure.他说：“这将潜在消费意愿转化为真实消费。”他补充说，入境消费有效补充了内需，有助于优化国家的整体贸易结构。Experts also pointed to untapped consumption potential.专家还指出，目前的入境消费潜力仍处于尚待开发阶段。While China's inbound consumption in 2025 recovered to the pre-pandemic peak level, accounting for 0.7 percent of the nation's GDP, there remains a gap compared with major global tourist destinations, Cai said.蔡伟说，虽然2025年中国入境消费恢复到了疫情前的峰值水平，占GDP的0.7%，但与全球主要旅游目的地相比仍存在差距。"Our focus should shift from scale recovery to quality improvement and structural optimization," he said.“我们的重点应从规模恢复转向质量提升和结构优化，”他说。To further unleash this potential, Cai suggested implementing higher tax refund rates for premium domestic brands and green, smart products.为进一步释放这一潜力，蔡伟建议，对优质国产品牌及绿色智能产品实行更高的退税率。Authorities said they will continue to expand service scenarios and provide stronger support for consumption and high-level opening-up.有关部门表示，将持续拓展服务场景，为促进消费和高水平对外开放提供更有力支撑。

This week on Sinica: Spanish Prime Minister Pedro Sánchez wrapped up his fourth visit to China in as many years last week, and this one may be the most consequential yet. It comes at a moment when Spain has emerged, almost improbably, as the most outspoken voice in Europe challenging the direction of American foreign policy — closing its airspace to U.S. military aircraft involved in the war in Iran, denying Washington the use of the Rota and Morón bases, recognizing Palestine, and getting expelled from the U.S.-led Gaza Coordination Center for its "anti-Israel obsession." Against that backdrop, Sánchez delivered a remarkable speech at Tsinghua University — a speech I wrote about in detail on the Sinica Substack (PM Pedro Sánchez's Tsinghua Speech: A Masterclass in Diplomatic Rhetoric) — defending multilateralism, calling the EU-China trade deficit unsustainable, and naming China "a country rebuilding its greatness."To help make sense of it, I'm joined by Mario Esteban Rodríguez, full professor at the Autonomous University of Madrid, director of its Center for East Asian Studies, and senior fellow at the Elcano Royal Institute. Mario is the scholar most frequently quoted in Spanish and European media coverage of Spain-China relations, and the author most recently of China's Vertical Multilateralism and the Global South (Routledge, 2026). We discuss whether Sánchez is running an updated Merkel playbook or something qualitatively new, how much of the pivot is really about Trump, the sectoral politics of EVs and Iberian pork, the Chery plant in Barcelona, Spain's role as a gateway to Latin America, and whether Madrid is now a trailblazer for a broader European — and transatlantic — reorientation toward Beijing.06:33 — Sánchez's China strategy: pragmatism, consistency, and political capital08:35 — Domestic politics: the PSOE–PP consensus, Vox, and the regional contradiction12:40 — Merkel's playbook vs. Sánchez's: COVID, Ukraine, and the macroeconomic imbalance15:55 — The Tsinghua speech: Matteo Ricci, multipolarity, and the human rights omission28:17 — The Trump factor: Iran, Gaza, and the limits of overestimating the American effect35:48 — Trade, EV tariffs, pork, and Chinese investment in Spain (the Chery plant in Barcelona)47:04 — Agricultural constituencies and the paradox of Vox voters who benefit from China trade49:01 — Spain's influence in Brussels and the conditions for other member states to follow53:09 — Spain as gateway to Latin America, and the wider European (and Canadian) turn to BeijingPaying it Forward: The European Think-Tank Network on China (ETNC) — a network providing country-specific insights on EU member states' approaches to China, including the granular differences and nuances that non-European analysts often miss.RecommendationsMario Esteban: A trip, rather than a book — New Zealand, which he's visiting this summer with his family to mark the 25th anniversary of the release of The Fellowship of the Ring. A nod to his love of Tolkien and tabletop role-playing games (conducted, he is careful to note, in his own basement — not his parents').Kaiser Kuo: CONG — a new large-format magazine published out of Hong Kong (the title is pronounced Kong, though its ambiguous Pinyin-like spelling invites a second reading), now preparing its third issue. Beautifully produced on glossy and textured paper, with broad coverage of the art, culture, and design scene across East and Southeast Asia. Check it out online here: https://www.serakai.studio/congSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

C'est sans doute une des épices les plus utilisées en cuisine pour relever ou sublimer un plat mais que sait-on vraiment du poivre ? En France, seuls les fruits issus de l'espèce Piper nigrum, poivrier noir, ont le droit de s'appeler « poivre ». Il en existe pourtant d'autres, comme le Piper longum ou le Piper borbonense. En revanche, les baies de Timut ou de Sichuan ne font théoriquement pas partie de la famille même si elles bénéficient souvent de l'appellation. Depuis sa découverte dans le sud-ouest de l'Inde, le poivre a voyagé au fil de la mondialisation, on en produit en Asie du Sud-Est, en Afrique, en Amérique du Sud... mais malgré sa popularité, il reste donc largement méconnu. On cherche parfois à le classer par sa couleur (rouge, noir, blanc ou vert), sans que celle-ci nous indique sa provenance ou sa variété. Ce qui est sûr, c'est qu'il vaut mieux l'acheter en grains plutôt que moulu pour en garder tous les arômes. Lui qui peut être piquant, boisé, fruité, amer, brioché... Comment reconnaître un poivre de qualité ? Vers quelle variété se tourner selon le plat ? Se marie-t-il qu'avec le sel ou peut-on varier les plaisirs épicés ? Discussion autour du poivre avec nos invités, en un tour de moulin !  Avec : • Anto Cocagne, « Le Chef Anto », cheffe à domicile, autrice de Mon Afrique – Produits phares, savoir-faire, recettes (Mango éditions, 2024) et fondatrice de Baraka by le Chef Anto, table et épicerie fine qui met en valeur le meilleur des saveurs africaines, située à Paris  •  Marie-Lou Lize, co-fondatrice de Nomie, le goût des épices, formatrice sur l'usage des épices •  Nathalie Brigaud Ngoum, autrice du blog Envolées Gourmandes et du livre  Mon imprécis de cuisine et fondatrice d'Envolées Gourmandes académie, un centre de formation agréé de cuisine, de pâtisserie et boulangerie. En fin d'émission, Charlie Dupiot nous emmène sur les campus français avec Décalages culturels, une chronique produite par RFI avec le soutien de l'Université Paris-Cité. Sur une idée originale de Chae-Yeon Bournel-Bosson du Français facile avec RFI. Dans ce 6ème épisode, Natalie professeure franco-suisse à l'Université Paris-Cité parle des cadeaux qu'elle reçoit de ses étudiants. Philippe Pierre, sociologue, enseignant en management de l'interculturel, lui répond.   Programmation musicale :  ► Scar Tissue - Red Hot Chili Peppers ► Un thé ? - Aupinard. 

Daru is a Hindi term for moonshine, and it's also the name of a cocktail bar with a robust food menu that chef Suresh Sundas and beverage director Dante Datta opened in August of 2021 in the H Street neighborhood in Washington, D.C. It soon gained local and national acclaim thanks to its creative drinks, such as a Dirty Martini made with achar, a tangy type of Indian pickle, and food like paneer pesto tikka with honey and rhubarb and a blue cheese kebab with cashew and sour cherry.  They followed that success with the opening of Tapori, also on H Street, serving street food from across the Indian subcontinent.  Sundas is actually not from India, but Nepal, a country sandwiched between India and China, and he brings that heritage to bear with the use of timmur, a relative of Sichuan peppercorns that has a similar numbing effect and is popular in Nepalese cooking.  Since the restaurants are in D.C., and soft-shell crab season is upon us, Sundas is making use of the local delicacy on his current menus, and, in a recent conversation, he shared his approach to developing menu items, and he's joined by Datta, who discusses his beverage program.  To learn more about Del Montes new fruit sauces and try a sample, visit https://www.delmontefoodservice.com/products/fruit-sauces?utm_campaign=Fruit_Sauces&utm_source=MenuTalk&utm_medium=Podcast&utm_content=040726_Graphic&utm_id=pm#requestForm

C'est sans doute une des épices les plus utilisées en cuisine pour relever ou sublimer un plat mais que sait-on vraiment du poivre ? En France, seuls les fruits issus de l'espèce Piper nigrum, poivrier noir, ont le droit de s'appeler « poivre ». Il en existe pourtant d'autres, comme le Piper longum ou le Piper borbonense. En revanche, les baies de Timut ou de Sichuan ne font théoriquement pas partie de la famille même si elles bénéficient souvent de l'appellation. Depuis sa découverte dans le sud-ouest de l'Inde, le poivre a voyagé au fil de la mondialisation, on en produit en Asie du Sud-Est, en Afrique, en Amérique du Sud... mais malgré sa popularité, il reste donc largement méconnu. On cherche parfois à le classer par sa couleur (rouge, noir, blanc ou vert), sans que celle-ci nous indique sa provenance ou sa variété. Ce qui est sûr, c'est qu'il vaut mieux l'acheter en grains plutôt que moulu pour en garder tous les arômes. Lui qui peut être piquant, boisé, fruité, amer, brioché... Comment reconnaître un poivre de qualité ? Vers quelle variété se tourner selon le plat ? Se marie-t-il qu'avec le sel ou peut-on varier les plaisirs épicés ? Discussion autour du poivre avec nos invités, en un tour de moulin !  Avec : • Anto Cocagne, « Le Chef Anto », cheffe à domicile, autrice de Mon Afrique – Produits phares, savoir-faire, recettes (Mango éditions, 2024) et fondatrice de Baraka by le Chef Anto, table et épicerie fine qui met en valeur le meilleur des saveurs africaines, située à Paris  •  Marie-Lou Lize, co-fondatrice de Nomie, le goût des épices, formatrice sur l'usage des épices •  Nathalie Brigaud Ngoum, autrice du blog Envolées Gourmandes et du livre  Mon imprécis de cuisine et fondatrice d'Envolées Gourmandes académie, un centre de formation agréé de cuisine, de pâtisserie et boulangerie. En fin d'émission, Charlie Dupiot nous emmène sur les campus français avec Décalages culturels, une chronique produite par RFI avec le soutien de l'Université Paris-Cité. Sur une idée originale de Chae-Yeon Bournel-Bosson du Français facile avec RFI. Dans ce 6ème épisode, Natalie professeure franco-suisse à l'Université Paris-Cité parle des cadeaux qu'elle reçoit de ses étudiants. Philippe Pierre, sociologue, enseignant en management de l'interculturel, lui répond.   Programmation musicale :  ► Scar Tissue - Red Hot Chili Peppers ► Un thé ? - Aupinard. 

Last time we spoke about the first battle of Changsha. Japanese forces under General Okamura Yasuji, including the 6th, 13th, and 33rd Divisions, launched a multi-pronged offensive, crossing the Xin Qiang River and capturing Yingtian amid brutal fighting. Chinese defenses, commanded by Xue Yue in the Ninth War Zone, employed gradual resistance strategies, with units like the 195th Division under Qin Yizhi holding key positions such as Bijia Mountain and Fulinpu, inflicting heavy losses. Battalion Commander Luo Wenlang recaptured Dongtang in a midnight assault, grieving his fallen brother amid Mid-Autumn moonlight. Chiang Kai-shek, from Chongqing, oversaw operations while hosting a festive banquet, buoyed by international support like U.S. loans. By October, Japanese advances stalled; Okamura ordered a retreat on October 2, exposed by a downed plane yielding critical documents. Chinese forces pursued, reclaiming lines by October 8, annihilating over half the invaders per Chiang's commendation.   #198 The Battle of South Guangxi Welcome to the Fall and Rise of China Podcast, I am your dutiful host Craig Watson. But, before we start I want to also remind you this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Perhaps you want to learn more about the history of Asia? Kings and Generals have an assortment of episodes on history of asia and much more  so go give them a look over on Youtube. So please subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry for some more history related content, over on my channel, the Pacific War Channel where I cover the history of China and Japan from the 19th century until the end of the Pacific War. In January 1939, the Japanese General Headquarters, responding to naval needs, ordered the 21st Corps to seize Hainan Island. The goal was to establish a base for air operations against southwestern China and to enforce blockade measures. Supported by the Japanese Navy, the Corps deployed the Taiwan Brigade, which landed at Haikou on February 10. After initial defeats, Chinese peace preservation units withdrew to the island's interior and conducted harassment operations. Japanese troops soon occupied northern counties including Qiongshan, Wenchang, Ding'an, Qionghai, and Chengmai, followed by the port of Yulin, which positioned them for southward advances toward Guangxi.   This invasion was part of a broader strategy to disrupt Chinese supply lines and secure a foothold in southern China. Although Chinese resistance on Hainan ultimately failed to repel the invaders, it highlighted the resilience that would define regional fighting.   After the costly Battle of Wuhan, the Sino-Japanese War reached a stalemate in central China, despite ongoing large-scale conflicts and Japanese strategic bombings that caused heavy casualties without breaking the deadlock. Politically, Japan's alignment with the Axis powers and the start of World War II in Western Europe led European nations to bolster ties with China. With major coastal ports under Japanese control, the Nationalist government's main overseas supply route became the Haiphong-Kunming railway in French Indochina, which transported four times more war materials in 1938 than in 1937, including heavy equipment purchased abroad.   The Hainan occupation negatively impacted Japan's war efforts, though diplomatic pressure on Britain and France proved ineffective. Meanwhile, the Imperial Japanese Navy proposed a southward advance: invading from Nanning to Longzhou County in Guangxi by sea to establish an airfield for strategic bombing. An April 15, 1939, Navy Department assessment deemed large-scale inland army operations challenging, recommending instead that the army and navy collaborate to occupy Shantou—the largest trading port on the South China coast—before pushing into Guangxi to seize Nanning and sever China's vital Indochina supply line.   In June, the Japanese General Staff's "Military Geography" emphasized that occupying Nanning would provide convenient transportation in all directions, reaching Guangdong, Hunan, Guizhou, and Yunnan. The Nanning-Lang Son road had become a major artery for Chiang Kai-shek's regime to connect with the southwest. To cut it off directly, Nanning must be captured first. Once occupied, heavy troops near Tokyo Bay would not be needed to achieve the operation's purpose. This idea gained considerable support both politically and tactically. The Army's northward policy had been defeated by the Soviet Union in the Battle of Khalkhin Gol in September 1939. Major General Tominaga Kyoji, the newly appointed head of the First Department of the General Staff, sought to avoid further embarrassments. Supporting the proposal involved transferring the 5th Division of the Kwantung Army, originally intended for Khalkhin Gol, to the south. This prevented front-line units from misjudging higher-ups' positions and allowed implementation without affecting existing troops.   In September, the European war broke out. The Japanese General Headquarters ordered the 21st Army to capture the vicinity of Nanning, cut off the international passage between Guangxi and Vietnam, and obtain a base for air operations in southwest China. Japan aimed to completely sever China's most important supply route. According to Japanese intelligence, the French Indochina line accounted for 85% of China's foreign aid in late 1939, with 12,500 tons transported in September alone.   On September 1, 1939, Germany attacked Poland; on September 3, Britain and France declared war on Germany, igniting World War II. Japan, eager to resolve the China issue and free up troops to seize Western colonies in Asia and the Pacific, stated through Prime Minister Nobuyuki Abe on September 4: "At the outbreak of the European war, the Empire will not intervene and has decided to focus on resolving the China Incident." In Nanjing, the China Expeditionary Army Headquarters was established, with General Nishio Hisazo as Commander-in-Chief and Lieutenant General Itagaki Seishiro as Chief of Staff, overseeing the North China Area Army, the 11th Army, the 13th Army, and the 21st Army.   On September 23, the Japanese General Headquarters issued an order to prepare for a swift response to the China Incident. On October 16, "Continental Order No. 375" directed the Commander-in-Chief of the China Expeditionary Army to swiftly cut off enemy supply routes from Nanning to Longzhou with a portion of the navy. Also on October 16, "Continental Order No. 582," a central Army-Navy agreement, aimed to cut off enemy routes along the Nanning-Longzhou line and strengthen naval air operations against the Yunnan-Vietnam Railway and the Burma Road. The operation was scheduled for mid-November. On October 19, Nishio Juzo issued orders for the Guangxi operation, involving the 5th Division, Taiwan Mixed Brigade, supporting units, the 5th Fleet (renamed the 2nd Expeditionary Fleet in mid-November), and the 3rd Combined Naval Air Group. Total strength: about 30,000 men, over 70 warships, 2 aircraft carriers, and about 100 aircraft. Tominaga Kyoji announced: "This is the last battle of the China Incident."   Politically, the Guangxi Army was a key pillar of the National Government after retreating to Sichuan. Attacking Guangxi could impact the Guangxi clique's stance on continuing the war. Cutting off the Nanning-Longzhou line would affect Vietnam-China transportation security and allow actions against French Indochina amid Europe's distractions. With tactical and political alignment, the plan was approved.   In September 1939, the Chinese repelled the Japanese attack on Changsha. In October, the National Government held the Second Nanyue Military Conference in Hengshan, summarizing the First Changsha Campaign and deciding on a new offensive. On October 29, Chiang Kai-shek announced: "Our future strategic application and the mentality of officers and soldiers must be completely transformed. We must start to turn defense into offense, turn stillness into movement, and actively take offensive measures." On November 5, after the meeting, intelligence indicated Japan's intention to invade the south. U.S. and British agencies reported the Japanese fleet gathering in Tokyo Bay, signaling an imminent operation against Nanning. Chiang flew from Hengshan to Guilin to arrange defenses.   At this time, coastal defense was guarded by the 16th Army Group under Xia Wei (transferred, with Cai Tingkai taking over), a Guangxi clique force comprising the 46th and 31st Armies. Bai Chongxi, director of the Guilin Headquarters, was in Chongqing for the Sixth Plenary Session of the Fifth National Congress of the Kuomintang, while Chief of Staff Lin Wei was in Rong County mourning Xia Wei's mother. The headquarters was essentially deserted. Zhang Fakui, commander of the Fourth War Zone, and Chief of Staff Wu Shiyuan were in Shaoguan, Guangdong. The three-tiered command structure—headquarters, war zone, army group—was practically non-existent.   The Chinese forces north of the pass were commanded by Bai Chongxi's Guilin Headquarters, with Lin Wei as Chief of Staff; they included the Fourth War Zone under Zhang Fakui and the 16th Army Group under Xia Wei. They commanded: the 31st Army (Commander Wei Yunsong; 131st Division under He Weizhen; 135th Division under Su Zuxin; 188th Division under Wei Zhen); the 46th Army (Commander He Xuan; 170th Division under Li Xingshu; 175th Division under Feng Huang; New 19th Division under Huang Gu); and a portion of the 200th Division of the 5th Army (Commander Dai Anlan). Together with the 1st-4th Independent Infantry Regiments of the Guangxi Training Corps, total strength was approximately 60,000 men.   After the Japanese landing, Bai Chongxi was stationed in Qianjiang, while the 16th Army Group headquarters in Xiawei was at Heishiyan near Binyang.   In early November 1939, the Japanese 5th Fleet and the aircraft carrier Kaga escorted the 5th Division and the Taiwan Brigade to concentrate in Haikou. Japanese aircraft bombed important cities in Guangxi. At that time, the Chinese army defended the coast from Nanning to Qinzhou Bay and Fangcheng with part of the 16th Army Group of the Fourth War Zone. The 46th Army was responsible for the coastline of Fangcheng, Qinxian, Hepu, and Liankou, and the 31st Army for key points along the Xijiang River.   On November 9, Japanese troops assembled at Sanya Bay on Hainan Island. Lieutenant General Ando Rikichi, commander of the 21st Army, personally commanded from Sanya. On the 13th, the fleet set sail. On the 14th, vanguard ships feinted at Beihai with over ten ships. A battalion of the 175th Division retaliated and was ordered to destroy Beihai, but Commander Chao Wei of the 524th Regiment believed no landing was intended, avoiding complete destruction. That night, Japanese ships turned toward Qinzhou.   To safeguard the international communications link between Guangxi and Indochina, the Chinese Generalissimo's Headquarters in Guilin assigned defensive missions. The 46th Corps of the 16th Army Group was tasked with defending the coastline from Fangcheng to Qinzhou, Hepu, and Lianjiang. The 31st Corps was responsible for key positions along the Xi River. Defensive positions were prepared in advance, and communications infrastructure was sabotaged to facilitate gradual resistance, aiming to attrition Japanese forces before a decisive engagement along the Yong River.   On November 15, under air and naval fire support, the Japanese 5th Division and Taiwan Brigade executed a forced landing on the west coast of Qinzhou Bay. Following intense resistance, the Chinese New 19th Division withdrew to Pancheng and Shangsi. After capturing Qinzhou, the Japanese 5th Division advanced north along the Yong-Qin Highway, while the Taiwan Brigade moved along Xiaodong–Baiji–Bujin Road. On November 17, the Japanese army captured Qinzhou and Fangcheng. The 5th Division immediately split into three routes along the Yongqin Highway, while the Taiwan Brigade advanced north along Xiaodong-Baekje-Pujin. On the 18th, they attacked Xiaodong, the headquarters of the New 19th Division. Division Commander Huang Gu fled alone in the face of battle. His troops were routed, and the Japanese continued northward. Meanwhile, bandits from the Shiwan Mountains formed numerous plainclothes teams to lead the Japanese advance, accelerating their northward movement. By November 21, they approached the south bank of the Yu River. On December 1, they occupied Gaofeng Pass. On December 4, they occupied Kunlun Pass and then adopted a defensive posture.   On November 16, Chiang Kai-shek summoned Bai Chongxi in Chongqing, ordering him to return to Guilin immediately to command the battle, without attending the plenary session. Bai requested full command without intervention from Zhang Fakui, and that all armies obey the Headquarters directly. Chiang approved and transferred his elite Fifth Army and other units to Bai's command. Bai telegraphed Du Yuming to lead troops by train from Hengyang to southern Guilin and reinstated Xia Wei as commander of the 16th Army Group, with Cai Tingkai awaiting orders. The 16th Army Group assembled, and Deputy Commander-in-Chief Wei Yunsong arrived in Nanning on the 19th. Units rushed to block Japanese advances. Bai flew to Guilin on the 19th and Qianjiang on the 21st, establishing the command post. Thus, as Japanese arrived in Nanning, Chinese reinforcements like the 170th Division reached Yongning on the 22nd, two regiments of the 135th Division entered Nanning on the 23rd, and the 600th Regiment of the 200th Division arrived at Ertang on the afternoon of the 24th. Other armies assembled in Liuzhou and Binyang.   On November 21, Japanese troops approached the south bank of the Yu River. Wu Zongjun, commander of the 405th Regiment of the 135th Division, arbitrarily ordered his regiments to abandon positions and retreat. Wei Yunsong ordered Su Zuxin to intercept, but Wu disobeyed. No troops defended Nanning's front lines. At dawn on the 24th, the 170th Division fought fiercely in Yongning. In the morning, the Japanese 21st Regiment crossed the river. By afternoon, Nanning had fallen. Over the next two days, they swept surrounding positions. On the morning of the 25th, the 600th Regiment of the 200th Division fought alone against Japanese regiments at Ertang. Under air cover, Japanese attacked, but Chinese resisted stubbornly. Regiment Commander Shao Yizhi and Adjutant Wu Qisheng were killed. Given the situation, Division Commanders Li Xingshu and Dai Anlan retreated to Gaofeng Pass after dusk. Though they failed to stop the advance, this was the fiercest resistance since the landing, lasting two days and nights. On November 25, Japanese attacked the 175th Division near Luwu from Xiaodong and the highway. The division moved to Nalong, assembling in villages there. The 175th attacked key points along the Yongqin Highway, including Datang, Naxiao, Dongya, Nabian, Xincheng, Xiaodong, Dadong, and Bancheng.   On November 20, the 21st Army opened its headquarters in Qinzhou. On November 26, Ando Rikichi announced the formation of the Yongqin Corps under Imamura Hitoshi. Ando left for Guangzhou on the 27th. Starting on the 26th, Japanese attacked Gaofeng Pass with aircraft cover. Despite fierce resistance, Chinese lost Gaofeng Pass on December 1. On the 4th, Japanese occupied Kunlun Pass, then adjusted deployment. The two sides confronted each other along the Kunlun Pass mountainous boundary. According to statistics up to December 1, Japanese suffered 145 dead and 315 wounded; Chinese had 6,125 dead bodies and 664 prisoners (but Japanese casualties were underreported; the 41st Infantry Regiment received 727 replacements on January 19, likely matching killed and wounded sent back). Seized in Nanning: 300 tons lead, 200 tons coal, 500 bundles cotton, 321 tons cotton thread, 30 tons iron, 60 tons tin. On December 2, the Japanese 5th Cavalry Regiment and Morimoto Battalion were attacked by about 1,500 Chinese with four tanks at Batang. Japanese dispatched the 21st Brigade (Nakamura Detachment), repelling a mixed force of the 200th and 188th Divisions. Japanese occupied Kunlun Pass but left only a battalion to defend it, withdrawing the rest to Nanning.   Bai Chongxi, director of the Guilin Headquarters and deputy chief of staff, proposed a counter-offensive plan, which was approved by Chiang Kai-shek.   On November 24, when Japanese had just occupied Nanning, Bai Chongxi demanded an immediate counterattack while Japanese were unstable and weak. After failing to gain approval, Bai asked Du Yuming to submit a request. Du sent a telegram on December 1: "The enemy occupying Nanning is less than two divisions. They succeeded by exploiting our dispersed forces, but lack heavy weapons and supplies. Our army should gather superior forces and launch a counter-offensive quickly (before December 10) to defeat them and restore international transportation." Chiang decided on a counter-offensive on December 7. On the 8th, Bai conveyed the objective: "capturing Kunlun Pass and then recovering Nanning." By mid-December, assembly was complete. Chiang dispatched Chen Cheng and Li Jishen to supervise, and Zhang Fakui arrived in Qianjiang.   In the early stages, Guangxi lacked heavy armored forces for counterattacking beyond Guangxi clique troops. The fall of Kunlun Pass prompted Chongqing to deploy the reorganized Fifth Army and its armored corps for a strong attack. The Fifth Army was the main force at Kunlun Pass, with the National Revolutionary Army providing cover while launching a full-scale counterattack in Nanning.   To recapture Kunlun Pass and Nanning, Bai Chongxi dispatched approximately nine armies and twenty-seven divisions, totaling 300,000 troops: Xia Wei of the 16th Army Group, Ye Zhao of the 37th Army Group, Deng Longguang of the 35th Army Group, and Cai Tingkai of the 26th Army Group (31st, 5th, 64th, 46th, and 43rd Armies, etc.) to attack Kunlun Pass. The Japanese, with the Nakamura Brigade as main force and special forces, had strong fortifications. Xu Tingyao of the 38th Army Group, with Li Yannian of the 2nd Army, Gan Lichu of the 6th Army, Yao Chun of the 36th Army, and Fu Zhongfang of the 99th Army. The 5th Army, plus the 1st Honorary Division (Zheng Dongguo), New 22nd Division (Qiu Qingquan), and all armored, cavalry, artillery, and engineer regiments, arrived.   The Japanese forces consisted of the 5th Division (Lieutenant General Hitoshi Imamura; 9th Brigade under Major General Genichiro Ogawa; 21st Brigade under Major General Masao Nakamura; Taiwan Mixed Brigade under Major General Sadashiro Shiota), Marine Corps (over 70 warships), and Air Force (100 aircraft), totaling about 30,000. Later reinforcements: Imperial Guard Division and a brigade from the 18th Division. Total about 100,000, but only 45,000 fought. After a traitor reported over 100,000 Nationalist troops north of Kunlun Pass, Imamura dismissed it as "impossible." Higher Japanese ranks hoped to instigate rebellion by the Guangxi clique. On December 10, Imamura issued a telegram "Letter to Generals Li and Bai," expressing respect and stating the attack on Nanning was to cut off Chiang's lines, hoping for Japan-China cooperation. If insisted, the Japanese garrison would win. Finally: "The more than 4,200 brave soldiers who died in Nanning have been buried in Zhongshan Park and solemnly offered sacrifices. Please rest assured."   On December 15, Bai Chongxi took a decisive step in the escalating conflict by issuing the first counter-offensive order, setting the stage for a coordinated push against enemy positions. He organized the forces into three main route armies, with additional reserves held back for support.   The Northern Route Army, under Xu Tingyao's command, focused its efforts on Kunlun Pass. The 5th Army led the direct assault there, while the 92nd Division from the 99th Army skirted around Lingliwei to strike at Qitang, effectively flanking the pass and adding pressure from the side.   Meanwhile, the Western Route Army, led by Xia Wei, split into two columns to cover multiple fronts. The First Column, commanded by Zhou Zuhuang, targeted Gaofeng Pass in a bold advance. The Second Column, under Wei Yunsong, positioned itself at Suwei to block any reinforcements heading toward Nanning, cutting off potential enemy supply lines.   On the eastern flank, Cai Tingkai's Eastern Route Army aimed to disrupt key logistics. The 46th Army moved against Luwu and Lingshan, intent on severing the vital Yongqin Highway. At the same time, the 66th Army joined the assault on Kunlun Pass before pushing onward to Gula and Gantang. To bolster these efforts, the remaining two divisions of the 99th Army were kept in reserve, ready to reinforce wherever needed.   The very next day, on December 16, Du Yuming—now serving as army commander—gathered his officers for a critical conference within the 5th Army. There, they crafted a clever encirclement strategy dubbed "close the gate and fight the tiger," designed to trap and overwhelm the opposition. The plan's core involved the 200th Division, led by Dai Anlan, and the 1st Honorary Division under Zheng Dongguo launching the primary attack on Kunlun Pass. Flanking from the right, Qiu Qingquan's New 22nd Division would seize Wutang and Liutang, then turn to intercept any incoming reinforcements. On the left wing, Peng Bisheng commanded two regiments in a daring bypass of Gantang and Chang'an, aiming to strike at Qitang and Batang and seal off the enemy's retreat routes.   The enemy at Kunlun Pass was the Matsumoto Sozaburo Battalion of the 21st Brigade. Its 42nd and 21st Regiments were along Jiutang-Nanning. On December 16, Imamura ordered Major General Kawai Genshichi of the 9th Brigade to lead thousands in a surprise attack on Longzhou and Zhennan Pass, departing on the 17th.   At 8 p.m. on December 17, the Battle of Kunlun Pass began.   On December 18, Chinese forces began their attack and captured Kunlun Pass and Jiutang on the same day. On December 19, it captured Gaofeng Pass. On December 20, Gaofeng Pass, Jiutang, and Kunlun Pass fell into the hands of the Japanese army again. At dawn on December 18, the artillery of the 5th Army opened fire. After extension, the 200th and 1st Honorary Divisions attacked. Hundreds of Japanese planes bombed. By night, the 1st Honorary captured Fairy Mountain, Laomaoling, Wanfu Village, Luotang, and Hill 411; 200th captured Hills 653 and 600, taking Kunlun Pass. At noon on the 19th, massive Japanese air raid. Imamura dispatched the 21st Regiment under Colonel Miki Yoshinosuke, recapturing it. Positions were contested repeatedly. The New 22nd occupied Wutang and Liutang; Wutang recaptured by Japanese, but Liutang held, blocking reinforcements. When Imamura ordered Taiwan Mixed Brigade reinforcement, they were blocked at Liutang by Qiu Qingquan. Du Yuming ordered Zheng Dongguo to send Zheng Tingji's 3rd Regiment to encircle Jiutang from the right. They captured high ground west of Jiutang at night. On December 20, enemy at Kunlun Pass weakened, sending urgent reports. Imamura ordered Nakamura Masao with 42nd Regiment to reinforce, but blocked at Wutang for two days, reaching Qitang on the 22nd, blocked again. Nakamura was wounded on the 23rd morning. At 1:30 pm, Miki reported: "If the brigade cannot arrive before dusk, the front line will be difficult to secure."   Imamura ordered Colonel Lin Yixiong's 1st Regiment and Colonel Watanabe Nobuyoshi's 2nd Regiment of the Taiwan Mixed Brigade to reinforce, but blocked by 175th Division on Yongqin Road. Watanabe's regiment blocked at Luwu by 524th Regiment (Chao Wei), and after three days, couldn't pass. Watanabe was killed, remnants fled to Qin County. On the 20th, Imamura ordered the 9th Brigade's 3rd Battalion of Ito's unit back in 105 vehicles to reinforce.   The Japanese confirmed the attack and Imamura ordered Nakamura Detachment rescue. Over two weeks, encirclement and breakout battles occurred on the Nanning-Kunlun Pass highway.   On the 18th, the 170th Division launched the Battle of Gaofeng Pass, capturing a hill on the 19th but ambushed that night. On the 20th, the pass fell, retreating to Gewei. Bai inspected but no improvement; failed to capture Gaofeng Pass or block reinforcements. Ito's unit on Yonglong Road intercepted by 131st at Xichangwei. On the 22nd, Imamura sent two companies from Nanning, intercepted by 188th near Suwei. Ito's battalion besieged in Xichangwei for three days, spared because 131st avoided close combat. Under air cover, both broke through to Nanning on the 26th.   On November 21, Chiang was dissatisfied with Kunlun Pass progress, ordering: "If front-line troops and artillery fail to attack or complete tasks, they shall be punished for cowardice."   By the 23rd, two divisions of 5th Army had over 2,000 casualties; Japanese over 1,000. Six days yielded no results, with reinforcements arriving. Du changed tactics to concentrate forces, tightening encirclement.   On the 24th, Oikawa Detachment ordered back to Nanning, destroying captured materials and withdrawing from Longzhou and Zhennanguan. Bai learned some escaped, telegraphing Wei Yunsong: "If the second batch escapes, it affects the main force. The deputy commander-in-chief should be punished." Main force still escaped; local troops preserved strength, benefiting Japanese.   On the main position, Zheng Tingji spotted Japanese officers meeting and ordered fire, inflicting heavy casualties, requiring airdropped officers.   On the 25th, Second Regiment of First Division captured Luotang South Heights, annihilating over 200. From December 25, Fifth Army and 159th and 92nd Divisions occupied key high grounds. Fierce battle until December 31, capturing Kunlun Pass and Tianyin, killing Nakamura Masao, annihilating over 5,000.   Following the intense clashes at Kunlun Pass, the battle's toll on the Japanese forces became starkly evident in the weeks that followed. On January 19, just a month after the fighting peaked, the Japanese rushed in 3,389 fresh replacements to replenish their battered 5th Division. This influx was distributed unevenly: 1,848 went to the 21st Infantry Regiment and 814 to the 42nd, figures that likely corresponded directly to the number of dead and seriously wounded who had been evacuated back home—though those with minor injuries weren't factored into these counts. The ferocity of the engagement was further underscored by the capture of numerous Japanese strongholds, where Chinese forces found that every defender had been killed, leaving no survivors behind.   In many ways, this outcome represented a stunning annihilation for the Japanese, particularly the 21st Brigade, which was effectively wiped out. Key figures fell in the fray, including Brigade Commander Masao Nakamura, Acting Commander Sakata Genichi, Miki Yoshinosuke, along with various deputies and battalion commanders. The leadership losses were catastrophic: over 85% of officers above the squad leader level were killed. Japanese records themselves acknowledged more than 4,000 soldiers dead, painting a grim picture that their own war histories later described as "the darkest era for the army." On the Chinese side, the victory came at a heavy price, with over 10,000 casualties suffered, yet remarkably, the core officer corps remained largely intact, preserving command structure for future operations.   Zooming out to the broader theater in December 1939, the Japanese 5th Division and the Taiwan Mixed Brigade found themselves holding the line against an overwhelming force of more than 150,000 Nationalist troops. At the same time, the Japanese 21st Army was shifting its focus to Guangdong Province in preparation for Operation Weng Ying, while the Oikawa Detachment—primarily composed of the 11th Infantry Regiment—pushed forward to Longzhou. They captured Zhennanguan on November 21, securing valuable stocks of fuel and arms in the process. However, these stretched deployments and insufficient troop numbers left the Japanese without adequate reserves when encirclement loomed at Kunlun Pass. Ultimately, they were forced to abandon their offensive plans in Guangdong, pulling back to consolidate defenses around Nanning. Meanwhile, from their base in Chongqing, Chinese commanders had meticulously planned the recapture, turning the tide through careful strategy and sheer determination. Shocked, Japanese dispatched Vice Chief of Staff Sawada Shigeru to Guangzhou. On December 29, 21st Army sent staff to Nanning. Failed to change 21st Brigade's defeat. Imamura planned personal charge for revenge on January 1, but Ando ordered holding Nanning for reinforcements: "The 21st Army is transferring powerful force to annihilate enemy. 5th Division secure Nanning and key locations."   After capturing Kunlun Pass and annihilating two regiments of 21st Brigade, 5th Army thought to recapture Nanning. Remaining 21st Brigade and Taiwan regiments between Jiutang and Batang. At noon January 1, 1940, Oikawa's thousands arrived at Batang; Imamura ordered Oikawa replace killed Sakata. First battle on Hill 441. 1st Division held north side; Japanese south. On January 1, Japanese bombed and attacked; 1st Division reduced to hundred but held. At dawn 2nd, counterattack all day, no progress. On 3rd, Du mobilized 200th and part New 22nd; brutal fighting, heavy casualties. At nightfall, Japanese retreated to Jiutang. On 4th, Japanese abandoned Jiutang to Batang. New 22nd moved into Jiutang. 5th Army attacked Batang; by 12th, no progress. Exhausted with heavy casualties, 5th Army ordered to Silong for rest. Mission transferred to 36th Army. 5th Army withdrew.   On January 7, Chiang flew to Guilin, visiting Qianjiang on 10th to discuss plans with Bai, Chen, Zhang, Xu, Lin. Bai proposed offensive with new armies to recapture Nanning. Chiang approved. On 11th, as Bai issued orders, Chiang overturned, changing to defensive. Japanese gained time for counter-offensive.   To salvage defeat, Japanese transferred 18th Division and Konoye Brigade from Guangdong. Combined with existing, formed 22nd Corps under Seiichi Kuno, under South China Front Army commanded by Reikichi Ando, preparing counteroffensive.   On January 25, a brigade from the Japanese 18th Division and elements of the 15th Division attacked frontally along Yongbin Road, while Konoye Brigade flanked toward Guizhou via Yongyong Road, in Binyang Campaign. Konoye crossed at Tingziwei, then Yongchun County, via Gantang, Luwei, Gula, Wuling to Binyang, cutting rear. Bai Chongxi rushed 175th Division of 46th Army north to tail Konoye. After reinforcements, 21st Army launched offensive to drive and encircle south of Binyang; accumulated supplies in Nanning. On January 22, 18th and Konoye reached attack points. 38th Army Group HQ in Binyang bombed, communications cut, independent combat.   On January 28, Japanese launched offensive (Binyang Operation). On February 3, 41st Infantry of 5th Division occupied Kunlun Pass. On February 4, Ando reached captured Binyang. Nationalists lost Kunlun Pass, lines collapsed, many encircled. Battle ended with withdrawal; February 13, Japanese withdrew to Nanning, lines stalemated.   In the wake of the Binyang clashes, the 18th Division was indeed shifted to Guangzhou. Japanese records from January 28 to February 13 painted a picture of their spoils: they claimed to have captured 19 tanks, 5 light armored vehicles, 30 automobiles, 20 field or mountain guns, 13 rapid-fire guns, and 41 mortars. Additionally, they reported counting 27,041 Chinese bodies on the battlefield and taking 1,167 prisoners. The Chinese forces, for their part, regrouped with their main strength positioned east of the Yongqin Highway, while some elements maneuvered west to harass Japanese rear lines and coordinate actions from the north bank.   On February 21, 1940, Chiang arrived in Liuzhou, residing at Yangjiao Mountain. From February 22, he convened over 100 generals for a four-day Liuzhou Military Conference to review Guinan operations. Chiang demoted Bai Chongxi for poor supervision and Chen Cheng for poor guidance from first- to second-class generals. He also punished and rewarded other senior officers. The 46th Army and 175th Division were commended for discipline. On February 26, Fourth War Zone Commander Zhang Fakui announced: "No need for counterattack on Nanning currently." The entire Guinan Campaign ended.   The defeat embarrassed Chongqing; not only disrupted Guangxi-Vietnam traffic, but massive effort ended in rout. Pre-battle, Guilin Headquarters misjudged Japanese intentions; during, both Guangxi and Huangpu clique leaders showed poor performance, infuriating Chiang. Post-battle punishments were unprecedented in the war.   I would like to take this time to remind you all that this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Please go subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry after that, give my personal channel a look over at The Pacific War Channel at Youtube, it would mean a lot to me. In November 1939, Japanese forces, including the 5th Division and Taiwan Brigade, landed at Qinzhou Bay, captured Nanning, and advanced to Kunlun Pass. Chinese troops, under Bai Chongxi and reinforced by the elite 5th Army, launched fierce counteroffensives, recapturing Kunlun Pass in December with heavy casualties. 

This week I'm sharing the next installment from the terrific day-long conference convened by the Institute for America, China, and the Future of Global Affairs (ACF) at Johns Hopkins SAIS on April 3rd in Washington — "The China Debate We're Not Having: Politics, Technology, and the Road Ahead." Last week's episode featured Jessica Chen Weiss's opening remarks and the first panel, "What China Wants." This week, I've got the companion panel — "What Does the United States Want?" — which I think pairs beautifully with that first session, and which takes up a question that's arguably harder and more uncomfortable to answer. The panel is moderated by SAIS Dean James Steinberg, who served as Deputy National Security Advisor in the Clinton administration and Deputy Secretary of State under Obama — and who keeps this moving with real sharpness. He's joined by Matt Duss, Executive Vice President at the Center for International Policy, who starts things off with a bracing observation: the United States does not know what it wants. The old foreign policy consensus has shattered, he argues, and neither the Trump administration nor the Democratic establishment has produced a coherent replacement. He locates the most interesting thinking in the progressive wing of the Democratic Party, where he hopes the 2028 primary will force some of these hard questions into the open. Katherine Thompson, a Senior Fellow at the Cato Institute who previously served in the Pentagon and on Capitol Hill, brings a military-strategic lens. She makes a sharp case that the new National Defense Strategy, for all its imperfections, at least opens the door to an honest conversation about trade-offs — something Washington has been allergic to. If you're going to prioritize deterrence in the Indo-Pacific, she argues, you have to actually give things up elsewhere, and the Iran situation is making that tension impossible to ignore. Jonas Nahm, the Andrew W. Mellon Associate Professor at SAIS who served in the Biden administration, reframes economic competition with China in refreshingly concrete terms. Rather than abstract great-power framing, he identifies three specific buckets — affordability and energy, technological catch-up, and manufacturing competitiveness — where Chinese capacity could actually help solve American problems, if we had the political imagination to let it. And Leslie Vinjamuri, president and CEO of the Chicago Council on Global Affairs, brings striking new polling data showing a 40-percentage-point swing in American favorability toward China since 2024 — now at 53 percent — driven largely by Democrats but with movement among Republicans too. She situates this in the fading of pandemic-era hostility and the absence of sustained anti-China rhetoric from the current administration, and adds an invaluable perspective on how utterly confused America's allies are about what Washington actually expects of them. The conversation ranges across Taiwan and strategic ambiguity, whether allies arming up in the Indo-Pacific helps or hurts, the collapse of U.S. credibility on human rights, the future of dollar dominance, and whether the 2028 election will finally force a reckoning with these questions. It's a rich, candid discussion — and a reminder that the hardest debates in U.S.-China policy may not be about China at all. Panelists:— Matt Duss, Executive Vice President, Center for International Policy— Katherine Thompson, Senior Fellow, Cato Institute— Jonas Nahm, Andrew W. Mellon Associate Professor, Johns Hopkins SAIS— Leslie Vinjamuri, President and CEO, Chicago Council on Global Affairs Moderator: James Steinberg, Dean, Johns Hopkins School of Advanced International StudiesSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Last time we spoke about the beginning of the first battle of Changsha. From Chongqing, Chiang debated defensive strategies for Hunan, ultimately adopting Plan B after Xue Yue's pleas, focusing on successive resistance north of Changsha to thwart Japanese advances. Japanese forces, under Okamura Yasuji, launched assaults in Jiangxi and Hunan. In Jiangxi, the 106th and 101st Divisions attacked Huibu and Gao'an, where Chinese troops under Luo Zhuoying and Song Kentang fiercely resisted. Gao'an fell briefly but was recaptured by the 32nd Army and the elite 74th Army, with heavy casualties on both sides, as recounted by soldier Liu Qihuai. In Hunan, Japanese units crossed the Xin Qiang River and landed at Yingtian, facing brutal opposition. At Bijia Mountain, Qin Yizhi's 195th Division held for four days; Battalion Commander Shi Enhua's reinforced unit perished entirely, their fragmented remains mourned by locals. Along the Miluo River, Chen Pei's 37th Army fortified positions, repelling waves of Japanese attacks, including suicide squads disguised as civilians. Recruit Yang Peyao's unit endured bombardments, inflicting significant enemy losses before withdrawing at dusk.   #197 The First Battle of Changsha Welcome to the Fall and Rise of China Podcast, I am your dutiful host Craig Watson. But, before we start I want to also remind you this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Perhaps you want to learn more about the history of Asia? Kings and Generals have an assortment of episodes on history of asia and much more  so go give them a look over on Youtube. So please subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry for some more history related content, over on my channel, the Pacific War Channel where I cover the history of China and Japan from the 19th century until the end of the Pacific War. Major Luo Wenlang, battalion commander of the 3rd Battalion, 55th Regiment, 19th Division of the 28th Army, harbored a peculiar quirk: he couldn't sleep soundly without unwrapping his leg bindings, a small ritual that anchored him in the chaos of war. Since the war's eruption, such luxuries were rare, and unwrapping his bindings every night became an impossibility, leaving him to endure restless slumbers. Tonight, however, sleep eluded him entirely; he tossed and turned on his makeshift bed, his mind a whirlwind of unrest. Two days after the northern Hunan battle ignited like a powder keg, the 55th Regiment received urgent orders from Division Commander Tang Boyin to race to Wukou in Pingjiang County. Their path wound through Luo Wenlang's hometown of Fulinpu, a twist of fate that stirred conflicting emotions. Entering the village under the cover of night, the entire battalion encamped in the commander's modest family village, with battalion headquarters naturally established in his ancestral home.   Luo yearned to step across that familiar threshold but dreaded it, for his parents remained oblivious to a devastating truth. They slaughtered chickens and prepared meat, hosting the battalion staff with drinks and hospitality, after all, this was their son's unit gracing their home. Luo orchestrated door planks and straw for bedding, posted sentries, and deftly evaded his parents until they retired. Before dawn broke, he mustered the troops, ensured they were fed, and led them onward, slipping away like a shadow. By noon on the 22nd, they reached Wukou, only to receive fresh directives: rush to Yingtian to bolster the 95th Division against the enemy's audacious landings. The 3rd Battalion spearheaded the division's reinforcements, marching relentlessly through day and night, arriving at Dongtang, over 30 kilometers southeast of Yingtian—on the 23rd, hearts sinking upon learning Yingtian had already fallen into enemy clutches.   Luo Wenlang sought out the retreating 95th Division Commander Luo Qi to beg for a mission, his resolve unyielding. Luo Qi, anticipating his arrival, relayed Commander Guan Linzheng's ironclad instructions: The 19th Division's reinforcements would assume Dongtang's defenses. With the main force still en route, Luo Qi tasked Luo's battalion with relieving a segment held by a replacement regiment. He handed over a map, sketching a line with a pencil, a simple stroke that thrust Luo Wenlang and his men onto the front lines of fate. An operations staff was dispatched to guide them to the position and oversee the handover.   As the troops advanced, they encountered scattered soldiers fleeing like startled rabbits; seizing a platoon leader revealed they were indeed from the replacement regiment. Mere minutes from division HQ, the enemy was already closing in, a predator's breath hot on their necks. Luo Wenlang and Deputy Battalion Commander Wu Yacui split the battalion, launching a counterattack on Dongtang from dual routes. Fortune favored them; the Japanese held only an exhausted company, crumbling under a single, ferocious charge. They swiftly deployed two companies to the positions, reserving one as a bulwark. By dusk, the full 55th Regiment arrived, accompanied by the rest of the 19th Division's reinforcements, allowing the battered 95th Division, ravaged at Yingtian, to withdraw for desperate reorganization. The regimental commander positioned Luo's 3rd Battalion on the regiment's vulnerable left wing. In the blink of an eye, it was the 27th, aligning with the 15th of the eighth lunar month. Amid the relentless great battle, few noted the calendar, and the skies hung heavy with clouds. Luo Wenlang twisted on his straw bed, his thoughts a snarled knot of anxiety and memory.   At 11 p.m., gunfire shattered the night; a barrage of machine gun bullets riddled the battalion HQ house, raining thatch and dust upon Luo like fallout from a storm. Catastrophe had struck! Luo surged toward the positions with the bugler—his battalion signal chief—and the reserve force, ascending the hilltop in a frenzy. Halfway up, he spotted 8th Company's Lieutenant Platoon Leader Rong Fayu leading over 20 soldiers in retreat. Bellowing "Why unauthorized retreat?" while brandishing his pistol, he compelled Rong to rally and turn back. The Japanese had launched a nocturnal assault; 8th Company Commander Yi Zuitao lay slain by a fatal shot, over a dozen comrades felled in brutal close combat, the survivors scattered like leaves in the wind; the high ground now belonged to the enemy.   Upon learning of Dongtang's loss, the regimental commander personally led the regimental reserve, his face etched with urgency. Under flickering lantern light, poring over the map with Luo, Division Commander Tang Boyin telephoned, his voice a whipcrack of command: Recapture it before dawn, or both would face the merciless hand of military justice. After seizing the high ground, the enemy hesitated to press further; Luo surmised the darkness concealed paths, and their numbers were not overwhelming. Forgoing the regimental reserve, he led 7th Company's 4 squads and remnants of the routed 8th Company in a stealthy ascent. Near the position, a ravine concealed over 20 8th Company soldiers, rallied by Sergeant Squad Leader Tan Tianrong, who had lurked in wait for reinforcements, dreading exposure at dawn under the enemy's gaze.   Spotting the battalion commander personally spearheading the counterattack, Tan Tianrong's face lit with fierce joy; his men, armed with grenades, surged as the vanguard. Intimate with the terrain even in blindness, they hurled explosives into bunkers, trenches, and works. The commander orchestrated the charge; the Japanese force of 40-50 men crumbled, over half slain or maimed, the remnants fleeing northward to their village stronghold. It was past 4 a.m.; the moon pierced the clouds, bathing the earth in a silvery glow. With positions reclaimed, the night revealed its secret: tonight was Mid-Autumn. Moonlight unraveled the tangled threads of his past; Luo draped his clothes over his shoulders, sat beneath the luminous orb, and wept in solitary anguish.   Before the war, devastating news had arrived: his brother Luo Yinong had been killed in Jiangxi. Luo had three brothers; the eldest shouldered half the family's burdens, their bond unbreakable. The brother had enlisted first in the 50th Army, climbing to battalion commander through sheer valor. He and his younger brother had followed suit, inspired by that call to arms.   Wartime conscription demanded only one per family, but battling the devils was a duty for the nation and its people. His brother had risen to deputy regimental commander before his end. The 50th Army notified him first. Engulfed in battle, there had been no time to console his grieving parents or tend to the funeral; it weighed on his heart like an unyielding stone. His sister-in-law, diligent and unassuming, cared for a young boy and carried another child; the long, arduous days ahead loomed like an endless shadow. The night dew brought a biting chill, the moon an icy sentinel; Luo shivered uncontrollably, his tears mingling with the frost.   The sky hung heavy with overcast gloom, yet the moon lurked beyond the clouds, casting a faint, ethereal light that warded off utter darkness. Along the road, a unit's elongated black shadow snaked southward in hurried silence, a serpent of weary resolve pressing through the night. Qin Yizhi reined in his horse, pausing to gaze back: the queue stretched onward, silent and impeccably orderly, belying the exhaustion of a force scarred by days of ferocious combat, their spirits unbroken amid the shadows. After the Japanese seized the 195th Division's defiant outpost at Bijia Mountain, they surged across the Xin Qiang River in a merciless onslaught. The river, shallow enough to wade knee-deep, offered no true impediment; the real barrier was forged from the defenders' scorching blood, a crimson testament to their unyielding stand. The 195th Division clashed in a maelstrom of cruelty; positions were heaped with corpses time and again, the Xin Qiang's waters churning blood-red in relentless cycles of carnage. From the night of the 23rd to the dawn of the 25th, respite was a forgotten dream; Okamura Yasuji, in a gesture of grim respect, inscribed Qin's name in elegant calligraphy and hung it within his command tent, a haunting trophy of the foe's tenacity.   Following their triumphant landing at Yingtian, the Japanese entangled the Ninth War Zone's left-wing defenders in a protracted snare, their advances grinding slowly like a predator toying with prey, menacing the flanks of the frontal troops with insidious intent. On the evening of the 27th, Xue Yue issued the fateful order for the 15th Army Group to withdraw to the precarious ground between the Miluo River and Shangshan City, ushering this blood-soaked force into an all-night march toward the next defensive crucible. Late into the night, a brief halt was called. Soldiers slumped to the ground, adjusting leg wraps and gear with mechanical precision; logistics teams darted through the ranks, distributing rations like lifelines; cooks, having forged ahead, arrived with steaming pots of rice soup, infusing the air with a rare warmth. Though no clamor broke the hush, a quiet camaraderie enveloped the queue, a fleeting balm against the war's chill.   The division staff claimed a flat expanse beside a farmhouse yard for their respite. Qin settled onto a stone roller used for grinding grain, nibbling at his meager ration and sipping the hot soup that steamed in the cool air. Suddenly, moonlight pierced the clouds, cascading down in silvery streams; the familiar contours of the farmhouse stirred a flood of warmth in his heart, evoking memories of home.   Chongqing, Huangshan Villa. Every window was shrouded in double layers of thick curtains, sealing out any sliver of betraying light, as if the very walls conspired to guard secrets from the encroaching night. Tonight's ethereal protagonist rose languidly from the eastern valley, its orange-red moonlight casting an aura of drowsy reluctance, as though it had not fully shaken off the slumber of the day. The feeble glow dappled the building's roof, balcony, and the surrounding hillsides, intersections, and thickets, where armed shadows lurked, capturing every rustle in the oppressive silence. Only upon close inspection could one discern the faint specks of moonlight glinting off steel helmets. Yet, beyond those fortified walls, another realm pulsed with life, a vibrant contrast to the shadowed vigilance outside. The front hall, living room, and dining room blazed with brilliant light. Vibrant flowers, dominated by chrysanthemums in full, defiant bloom, infused the air with color and fragrance; a phonograph murmured a cheerful Guangdong melody, weaving an atmosphere thick with festive joy, a deliberate illusion amid the storm of war.   Chiang Kai-shek, clad in a flowing black silk gown, strode ahead with poised grace, escorting his guests into the dining room alongside the elegantly attired Soong May-ling, their conversation laced with laughter and warmth. At the table, Soong May-ling's smile was a beacon of diplomacy, as she artfully arranged the seating to suit hierarchies and alliances, while servers in crisp white uniforms moved with nimble precision. This was Chiang Kai-shek's intimate Mid-Autumn family banquet; beyond a handful of pivotal military and political figures, the gathering brimmed with relatives. Guests and kin alike noted Chiang's buoyant spirits tonight; his smiles were wide and genuine, his discourse light and expansive, delving into casual topics with uncharacteristic ease.   In September 1939, China's War of Resistance Against Japan had entered its grueling third year. After the initial cataclysm of turmoil and disarray, the government and military had clawed their way to stability, adapting to this unprecedented historical crucible, with operations finally aligning into a semblance of order. According to figures proclaimed by Minister of Military Affairs He Yingqin to Chinese and foreign reporters on the 13th of this month, Japanese invaders had seized 521 counties across 12 provinces, a vast swath of conquest. Yet, the Japanese imperialists had exacted this toll at a staggering cost. Just prior, on August 30, the Hirannuma Cabinet, installed a mere eight months earlier, had collapsed in mass resignation. Hirannuma Kiichiro's predecessor, Konoe Fumimaro, had similarly bowed out amid governmental failures, chiefly the unmet ambitions in the Sino-Japanese War that he had boldly promised to parliament, exacerbating domestic political and economic woes. Days ago, when Wang Pengsheng briefed Chiang on Japan's turbulent politics, he quipped: "Konoe said three months to destroy China; three months didn't work, nor three years, who knows about 30 or 300. Hirannuma had no solutions, down in eight months. Does Abe have good ideas? How long can he be prime minister?" Indeed, Abe Nobuyuki, Hirannuma's successor, would endure a mere four and a half months before resigning in ignominy. Tonight's feast showcased Chiang's favored cuisines: delicate Jiangsu-Zhejiang dishes mingled with robust Sichuan flavors. Chiang abstained from alcohol, raising his cup in mere symbolic toasts to his guests. During the meal, as if by unspoken accord, no one broached the raging domestic battles or the volatile international landscape; conversations meandered through trivialities, skirting anything heavy or discordant, a fragile bubble of normalcy.   On September 3, Britain and France had declared war on Germany, shattering the global order in a seismic shift. Foreign newspapers already bandied the term "Second World War," a phrase that evoked freshness, exhilaration, and sheer terror in equal measure. China's diplomacy surged with newfound vigor. In April, Ambassador to the US Wang Zhengting had negotiated a $20 million loan with American banks on China's behalf. In May, Stalin responded to Chiang's overtures, agreeing to exchange arms for Chinese tea, wool, raw hides, and more. A month later, the first consignment of light and heavy weapons—including artillery and heavy machine guns—arrived via clandestine routes through Xinjiang and Mongolia, bolstering the central army's frontlines. In August, Hu Shih, Wellington Koo, and Chien Tai represented the Nationalist Government at the 19th League of Nations Assembly, laying bare the Japanese imperialists' atrocities in China before the world and rallying global forces for peace to support China's defiant stand. Soon after, British and American civic groups ignited "China Week" campaigns, pressing their governments to aid the beleaguered nation. Waves of foreign volunteers streamed in from distant shores: doctors, journalists, ordnance engineers, even retired soldiers clamoring to join the fray on the frontlines.   "If we could pull America into this war..." Through Soong May-ling's subtle, persuasive influence, Chiang allowed himself to daydream of that prosperous, dynamic young powerhouse across the vast ocean. Thus, on this Mid-Autumn night, his talk turned to America, to his correspondence with President Roosevelt regarding the "tung oil loan." That saga had unfolded the previous October; T.V. Soong had jetted to America, securing a loan with China's tung oil, a commodity scarce in the US, as collateral. China had boldly requested $400 million; America countered with $25 million, a classic tale of "ask high, settle low." Yet, the funds were secured. One success paved the way for many. Soong May-ling had once confided to Chiang: "In mobilizing US aid for China's resistance, I'll make a difference." When Chiang responded with a smile, "Thank you, Madam," he could scarcely foresee how his beautiful wife's extraordinary prowess in fulfilling this solemn vow would astonish him, etching eternal glory for Chinese women worldwide and elevating Soong May-ling to the zenith of her life's achievements.   The most direct echo of the First Battle of Changsha's thunderous saga resides in the Ninth War Zone's meticulous report on the northern Hunan and southern Hubei operations, submitted to the Chongqing Military Committee and Chiang Kai-shek himself, a faded relic now entombed amid the vast ocean of Nationalist Government military and political archives in Nanjing's Second Historical Archives of China. This document, a painstaking compilation of combat dispatches from divisions, armies, and army groups, stands as a testament to valor and sacrifice. Tragically, time's relentless march and human folly have ravaged this priceless artifact, leaving only shards and whispers to conjure the heart-wrenching inferno of that bloody clash.   "October 24, Year 28. Urgent. To Chongqing. Chairman Chiang. Secret. Submitted by Commander Xue on orders." The rice paper has yellowed to a deep, somber hue, brittle and parched; a careless touch could reduce it to dust. Some pages lie fractured, their remnants affixed to white paper, forever unable to reclaim their original wholeness. Leafing through page by page unleashes a pungent miasma, a scorched, acrid, decayed blend that assaults the senses. Traces of fire and water mar the original rice paper sheets, with countless fragments glued haphazardly to white backings, their sequences lost to eternity.   "...The Xin Qiang River spanning from Lujiao to Leishi Mountain, defending a front of over 110 li..." "Enemy 13th and 33rd Divisions, parts of the Hata Detachment, naval units, and artillery, cavalry, engineers totaling..." "...Began attacking us first with artillery... fortifications completely destroyed, then infantry charged; relying on our officers and men all resolved to coexist with the homeland..." "...And launched balloons to direct artillery... our army braved the cannons... repelled them, corpses filling the river, turning the water red..." "Division casualties also reached over a thousand... failed to inflict greater strikes and annihilate... deep inner guilt, besides vigorously training troops awaiting orders to kill the enemy..." "...Attack casualties heavy, then concentrated large forces... artillery fire so dense like continuous firecrackers for hours... released poison gas, Wang Street garrison all heroically sacrificed, then breached... Zhao Gongwu kowtows, October 15"   Zhao Gongwu commanded the 2nd Division under Zhang Yaoming's 52nd Army. This unit first held the line along the Xin Qiang River, then fell back to northeast of Fengjiang Bridge to staunch the enemy tide once more; after October 6, it hammered southward-marching Japanese from the west in the Yanglin Street and Dajing Street regions. Through these crucibles, the division bled over half its strength. A fragment of an envelope clings to a sheet of white paper, its words faintly visible: "Changsha 126-3 Zhang Yaoming," "Hunan Jinjing Air Mail," "Combat Process by..." and the like. The stamp remains remarkably intact—a philatelic gem now. Measuring 1.5 cm square, it features Sun Yat-sen's portrait at its center, inscribed "Republic of China Post" below, with "5" in the upper right, "fen" to the left, and "5" in each lower corner. I sat at the long table in the spacious, brightly lit reading room, staring vacantly, my thoughts grinding to a halt. These remnants are all that endure for posterity, of that monumental battle, of the scorching blood and vanished lives of countless unnamed Chinese soldiers. With hands that once gripped a rifle, I gently caressed those pages from a bygone era; they were cold, devoid of any lingering breath.   As the full moon of the 15th of the eighth month dissolved into the golden-red blaze of sunrise, Qin Yizhi's 195th Division had already plunged into the rugged mountains and dense forests encircling Fulinpu. Per directives from 15th Army Group Commander Guan Linzheng, the 195th was to forge a new defensive bastion centered on Fulinpu, 40 to 70 kilometers from Changsha. Their mandate: stall the Japanese southward juggernaut, granting precious time for allied forces to muster and fortify around the city. Despite the grueling all-night march, morale soared undimmed. The advance chief of staff doled out positions to each regiment, and the troops dove into fortification labors with fervent zeal. The 195th Division's unyielding stand along the Xin Qiang River had already etched preliminary glory upon this unit in its baptism of fire. "Fame in one battle" echoed as a battle cry throughout the division, where collective honor intertwined with personal valor. Honor and triumph formed the bedrock for soldiers and armies alike. Yet, another fire fueled their resolve.   On September 23, amid the Japanese forcing the Xin Qiang River, Guan Linzheng's voice crackled over the phone to Qin Yizhi: "Facing you is the 6th Division." The 6th Division, a name that ignited fury in Chinese troops and civilians, forever linked to the demonic specter of Tani Hisao. Moments later, the whisper spread like wildfire through every trench: "The Japanese army that perpetrated the Nanjing Massacre is right in front." Agitation rippled through the ranks; some donned fresh uniforms and shoes from their packs, casting aside the worn; others flouted discipline to bid farewells to hometown comrades: "Today we fight to the death here; see you in the next life." "Tell my mother I died fighting the Nanjing Massacre enemies."   Some company commanders commanded their mess sergeants to expend all funds on hearty feasts. All Japanese were foes, but the 6th Division embodied a blood debt, an unforgivable vendetta; the Chinese nation does not lightly forget its tormentors. In the Xin Qiang River maelstrom, the 195th Division battled with heroic ferocity. Some soldiers, in their final breaths, murmured: "Die then; it's worth it." Others lamented slaying too few devils, gritting teeth, eyes refusing to close in eternal regret. Now under Inaba Shiro's command, the 6th Division splintered southward after breaching the Xin Qiang; roughly a thousand hounded the 195th to Fulinpu. On the morning of September 29, the Japanese blundered into the 195th's meticulously laid ambush. Qin Yizhi, pulse racing with excitement and tension, fumbled the binoculars from his guard's hand. His command sliced the air: "Begin." War history chronicles: "The 6th Division advanced south from the Miluo River along the Xinshi-Liqiao road and Xinshi-Fulinpu routes. The over a thousand reaching Fulinpu were ambushed by the Nationalist 195th Division, suffering heavy losses." As Japanese artillery and aircraft unleashed hell upon the 195th's positions, Qin orchestrated a swift southward withdrawal to the environs of Shangshan City. Again, without pause, they erected fortifications and set deadly traps.   On the morning of September 30, the pursuers from Fulinpu closed in on Shangshan, their numbers swollen to over 1,500. Qin Yizhi clenched his jaw, his demeanor icy calm, allowing the Japanese to creep into the kill zone before barking: "Hit them hard!" Combat raged from dawn to dusk, obliterating over 700 foes. Qin ascended a hill, surveying through binoculars, then erupted: "Bad! The enemy is retreating." Upon receiving Qin's telegram, Guan Linzheng scrutinized the map, momentarily stunned, then replied: "Enemy shows no retreat signs yet; proceed per original plan. Your unit to block at Shangshan City line until October 2." Xianning, Okamura Yasuji's 11th Army HQ.   Combat maps bristled with markings, staff officers darting amid ringing phones and clattering telegrams. The colossal red arrow in northern Hunan had fractured into tributaries, surging over 100 km southward from the outset; one tendril pierced to Yong'an City, a mere 30 km from Changsha. Vast swaths of northern Hunan lay conquered, yet Okamura sensed the tide turning, it was time to retreat. The Chinese employed their time-honored gradual resistance, battling while retreating with cunning grace. Some units fell back directly, others amassed on flanks—what portent did that hold? In Okamura's shrewd mind loomed an equally shrewd Xue Yue; he envisioned his adversary methodically weaving a snare.   Post-Yingtian landing, the 15th Army Group's timely evasion had unraveled his "Xiang-Gan Operation Plan" like fragile thread. If encircling and annihilating the Chinese main force proved unattainable, what purpose in pressing onward? Telegrams from 3rd Division's Fujita Susumu, 6th's Inaba Shiro, and 13th's Tanaka Seiichi piled on his desk, pleading to assault Changsha—for headlines and Imperial accolades, perhaps, but blind to their exposed supply lines vulnerable to enemy thrusts? Ground logistics teetered on collapse; the air force resorted to airdrops for isolated regiments. Venturing further south would stretch lines to breaking; a severed artery spelled doom for the vanguard. When would these commanders mature into true stewards of the Imperial Army? Okamura fretted and pitied them in equal measure.   At 4 p.m. on September 30, Okamura decreed a halt to advances at Shangshan and Yong'an. He commenced orchestrating the retreat. Changsha, Yuelu Mountain, Ninth War Zone Command Forward HQ. October 1. Xue Yue stood before the map, Guan's latest telegram clutched in hand. Qin's second missive insisted on Japanese withdrawal, corroborated by 15th Army Group scouts from Yingtian: This morning (October 1), Japanese transports unloaded artillery stowed the previous night, hauling it back to Yueyang; intercepted wires revealed a regiment aborting its southward push, standing idle. Guan assessed the mosaic and commanded counteroffensives: intercept if feasible, pursue relentlessly, deny the Japanese escape; he relayed retreat indicators to Xue. Xue paced the chamber, head bowed in contemplation. Chief of Staff Wu Yizhi, Staff Director Zhao Zili, and their cadre tracked his every step with expectant eyes, awaiting the verdict. Xue's thoughts whirled through military stratagems and beyond.   Pre-war, Xue had segmented the war zone's forces into tripartite blocs: Northern Hunan under Guan Linzheng's 15th, Yang Sen's 27th, and Shang Zhen's 20th Army Groups as "A Cluster"; Northern Jiangxi Nanchang with Yunnan Army Lu Han's 1st Army Group and the 74th Army as "B Cluster"; the Wuning, Xiushui, Hunan-Hubei-Jiangxi border guarded by Sichuan Army Wang Lingji's 30th Army Corps, Fan Songpu's Border Advance Army, and 8th Army; augmented by 3 armies' 7 divisions in general reserve. Before the storm broke, Xue pored over maps, tracing every mountain, river, road, and bridge, envisioning burial grounds for the invaders.   Now, beneath Changsha, 200,000 troops formed a tightening net. The "decisive battle in Changsha suburbs" blueprint had been wired to Chongqing. Chiang and the nation yearned for a resounding triumph as the resistance pivoted into a new epoch?! A masterful drama, honed over half a month's toil, neared its crescendo; yet that cunning fox appeared to sniff the trap's metallic tang, freezing in place. "Commander, phone from Minister Chen." "Brother Boling, good news." Chen Cheng's voice brimmed with levity, "Your formal appointment published. What? Ninth War Zone Commander! First to congratulate; document tomorrow." Shedding the "acting" prefix was inevitable; Chiang had intimated as much long ago. But for a man and general, true worth lay not in titles, but in forging indelible feats. Splendor was judged not by underlings, colleagues, or superiors, but by peers in the craft of war.   Unmoved by the promotion, Xue exhaled a profound sigh. Though the 15th's intelligence couldn't confirm a wholesale retreat, preparations for dual contingencies were imperative. Victories came hard; a splendid battle, harder still. He summoned Wu Yizhi and Zhao Zili to devise countermeasures for the enemy's potential flight. October 2, Sichuan Army Yang Sen's 27th Army Group, Yang Gancai's 134th Division special service company, under Company Commander Wan Mingyu, slogged through the profound mountains and forests on the northern Mufu Mountains' flanks. The 134th's covert mandate: infiltrate enemy rear via treacherous terrain, sabotage supply arteries in the Chongyang-Xianning sector, and deliver a dagger to the Japanese spine when opportunity struck, bolstering frontal defenses.   Past 3 p.m., a crystalline mountain stream materialized. Wan decreed a respite. Over 100 soldiers, drained from a half-day's ascent, collapsed like puppets with severed strings. Most propped their torsos with rifles in one hand, fanning hats to ward off the relentless forest mosquitoes with the other. Regaining breath, they devoured rations washed down with stream water. Some unfurled towels and ventured downstream, letting the cool flow rinse away layers of sweat. Then, a muted engine drone encroached from the heavens. Wan peered through the foliage: a low-flying plane vectored southward, its wings emblazoned with the Rising Sun.   A transport; Wan recognized the temporary Japanese airfield near Xianning. With lines overextended, airdrops sustained isolated units. Wan was prying open a can with his bayonet, the tip etching a cross on the lid before levering along the edge; paired with a rice ball, it promised a savory repast. His orderly proffered a cup of fresh stream water; 2nd Platoon Leader Hu Yaozong perched nearby on a rock, smirking, poised to pilfer from the opened tin. Wan warded off this Sichuan Pixian compatriot. The plane droned overhead then.   Both glanced skyward; the platoon quipped: "Open quick, damn, I'll repay two cans later." Commander: "Want cans? Sky has; shoot plane down, enough for two lifetimes, bloat your mother-in-law first." The can hailed from a prior supply raid. Platoon: "You want me to shoot the plane?" Commander: "Bastard! You shooting or not?" The platoon snatched the light machine gun from a tree fork, jamming the butt against his belly, one hand on the grip, aiming crudely: "Come down, you turtle son!" The other hand squeezed the trigger. Wan assumed jest, resuming his task. "Da-da-da..." Wan jolted; the half-opened can tumbled to his feet, spilling Japanese fish onto Chinese soil. Recoil floored the platoon; he hurled the gun like a branding iron, face ashen. Inspecting the trigger, he snarled: "Whose damn fault, why no safety?!" The gunner dashed over; tall and even-tempered: "Safety was on; how'd it fire without pulling?" Wan's initial panic: "Damn! Position exposed."   The company spearheaded the division's reinforced regiment to raze a recent Japanese depot, guarded by a mere company—but exposure doomed the regiment deep in hostile territory. The assault had been plotted for days; pre-departure, Yang Gancai had toasted them. Wan had sworn a blood oath: No return to Sichuan without success. Hu had jested then: "No Sichuan return means wanting Hunan girl as concubine." Banter was fine in peace, but in war's grip, this was no trifling errand. Wan unleashed a torrent of curses, rising to survey the environs. The main force lagged 15 km behind; advance or abort post-blunder? Enemy rear was a labyrinth; this isolated band teetered on a razor's edge. As if to compel a choice, the radio operator approached; Wan itched to lash out. In his fury and indecision, a miracle unfolded.   The transport's engines hacked like a consumptive invalid, then a witness spied the plane banking left, plummeting, its nose inexorably toward a colossal rock 3-4 km distant. It rebounded twice on the stone, nose and left wing crumpling; the fuselage, fragile as parchment, tumbled gently, skewing onto the slope amid splintered trees. Wan gaped, then bellowed: "Assemble!" The men snapped from reverie, charging downhill in a frenzied cascade. One hour later, 134th Deputy Commander and Reinforced Regiment Commander Liu decoded Wan's vanguard transmission via radio. Another hour passed before Liu received Yang Gancai's directive: Abort Mountain Leopard operation; return with documents expeditiously. One day hence, October 3, Okamura Yasuji's original retreat order from October 2 dawn, addressed to northern Hunan's 6th, 33rd Divisions, Nara and Uemura Detachments, plus its Chinese translation, landed on Xue Yue's desk.   Fifteen days later, at the Changsha Victory Celebration, unit accolades were proclaimed; for "shooting down enemy plane, obtaining vital enemy documents," meritorious honors went to 134th Commander Yang Gancai and Deputy Liu. Each received 1000 yuan and one 3rd Class Baoding Medal. Okamura's October 2 order original: Chinese forces retreated to Miluo and Xiushui Rivers banks assembling; to avoid disadvantage, this army should quickly withdraw to original positions, restore combat strength.   Withdrawal plan as follows: … Xue's October 3 order original:   "Northern Hunan frontal units with current posture immediately pursue facing enemy fiercely, must capture in Chongyang-Yueyang south area. ... Pursuit units may detach part to monitor and sweep enemy collection troops; main force execute overtaking pursuit... Already deep behind enemy advance units vigorously destroy enemy transport lines, cut escape routes."   From October 3, Chinese forces unleashed ferocious counteroffensives against the Japanese on three fronts: northern Hunan, southern Hubei, and the Hunan-Hubei-Jiangxi border; the invaders receded like a vanishing tide, never to reclaim their ground. The 25th and 195th Divisions hounded the 6th Division and Nara Detachment from Fulinpu back to the Miluo River, then to the Xin Qiang River. On October 8, the Japanese fled across the Xin Qiang; the 195th's 566th Brigade surged in pursuit, launching a nocturnal raid on Xitang-Jianshan. Gains were modest, but the enemy, entrenched in their den, resisted with feral tenacity. Qin commanded the brigade's withdrawal southward; northern Hunan operations concluded.   In southern Hubei, the 79th Army chased remnants of the 33rd Division from Sanyan Bridge to Pingjiang, across Nanjiang Bridge, hounding them back to their Tongcheng lair. On the Hunan-Hubei-Jiangxi border, 30th Army Group Commander Wang Lingji orchestrated a pincer against Japanese at Xiushui. The foes retreated to Sandu, mounting a stubborn defense. Chinese assaults faltered for three days; on the fourth night's blitz, victory crowned their efforts, expelling the invaders to their original Wuning stronghold. With both armies reclaiming pre-war lines, the First Battle of Changsha drew to its resounding close.   Over days, Xue Yue received a deluge of congratulatory telegrams and letters from the Nationalist Government, Military Committee, National Assembly, myriad civic groups, party officials, and social luminaries. As hoped, among them was Chiang Kai-shek's effusive missive, brimming with joy. For Xue Yue, this one sufficed. Chiang Kai-shek's telegram to Xue Yue:   "In this northern Hunan campaign, over half the enemy was annihilated. The triumphant news has invigorated the nation, all due to effective command and soldiers' valor; I commend without reservation. Thoroughly investigate and report meritorious personnel from this battle; also report the dead and wounded for awards and relief. With this initial victory foundation laid, our officers and men's responsibilities grow heavier; urge your subordinates to extra vigilance, redoubled effort, avoiding arrogance or complacency, to amass great achievements, my deepest hopes."   As if countering Chongqing's high-powered broadcasts, Japanese radios in Wuhan, Nanjing, Beiping, and Manchukuo blared at full volume: "In this Xiang-Gan operation, valiant Imperial forces penetrated over 100 km into northern Hunan, sweeping anti-peace elements, routing Chinese central main forces, inflicting over 40,000 enemy casualties, a pivotal triumph advancing the holy war. Having achieved objectives, Imperial troops have victoriously withdrawn..."   In the aftermath of the First Battle of Changsha, the Japanese high command spun a tale of calculated restraint, insisting their assault was merely a spoiling raid, a calculated jab never intended to seize and hold the city indefinitely. With brazen confidence, they downplayed their toll, claiming a mere 850 souls lost to death and 2,700 wounded in the fray, while boastfully asserting they had slain 44,000 Chinese defenders and taken 4,000 captive, painting a picture of overwhelming triumph amid the smoke and ruin. Yet, foreign military observers, peering through the fog of propaganda with detached scrutiny, painted a starkly different canvas. They gauged Chinese losses at a far more tempered 20,000 killed and wounded, a heavy but bearable scar on the nation's resolve, while estimating Japanese casualties soared to around 30,000, a grievous hemorrhage that belied the invaders' claims of minimal sacrifice. Military historian Michael Clodfelter, sifting through the annals of conflict, ventured an even grimmer tally: a staggering 50,000 Japanese casualties endured in the relentless clash, a testament to the ferocity of Chinese resistance and the high price of imperial ambition. In the battle's locale, neither side claimed clear victory, but globally for the resistance, it favored China. I would like to take this time to remind you all that this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Please go subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry after that, give my personal channel a look over at The Pacific War Channel at Youtube, it would mean a lot to me. The First Battle of Changsha unfolded in September 1939 during China's War of Resistance Against Japan. Japanese forces under Okamura Yasuji advanced into Hunan and Jiangxi, crossing rivers and capturing key positions like Yingtian amid fierce Chinese defenses led by Xue Yue. 

Opening Remarks & Session 1: What China WantsJohns Hopkins SAIS ACF Conference, April 3, 2026This week's episode features audio from a day-long conference hosted by the Institute for America, China, and the Future of Global Affairs (ACF) at Johns Hopkins SAIS, held on April 3rd in Washington, DC. The conference, titled "The China Debate We're Not Having: Politics, Technology, and the Road Ahead," brought together a wide range of scholars, former officials, and analysts to interrogate some of the foundational assumptions underlying US policy toward China — a conversation I found compelling enough to share directly with Sinica listeners, with the full blessing of the organizers.You'll hear two segments in this episode.Opening Remarks — Jessica Chen WeissACF's inaugural faculty director Jessica Chen Weiss opens the conference by framing its central provocation: that much of the prevailing US policy discourse assumes an intrinsically zero-sum competition with China, and that this assumption has not been adequately examined. She argues for a more rigorous, evidence-based conversation — one that takes seriously the possibility that American and Chinese interests are competitive but not necessarily adversarial, and that may even leave room for complementarity in some domains. She previews the day's three thematic sessions — on what China wants, what the United States wants, and the stakes of technological and AI rivalry — and situates the whole enterprise in what she describes as a hinge moment in world history.Session 1: What China WantsModerated by Demetri Sevastopulo of the Financial Times, the first panel takes up the deceptively simple question of what China is actually trying to achieve on the world stage — and whether its ambitions are as expansive as much US policy discourse assumes.Jessica Chen Weiss argues that China's core objectives remain relatively modest and sovereignty-focused: security, development, and legitimacy within an order long dominated by the United States. She pushes back on the idea that China is eager to assume the burdens of global leadership, noting that Chinese interlocutors are acutely aware of the domestic overextension that has constrained American power. Sevastopulo coins — with Weiss's amusement — the term "China-first" to describe Beijing's orientation.Dan Taylor, drawing on his decades in the Defense Intelligence Agency, urges the audience to take Chinese leadership statements seriously rather than projecting worst-case intentions onto them. He notes that Beijing still sees itself as a developing nation with enormous domestic work ahead, and that its articulated goals leave considerable room for interpretation before one arrives at the conclusion that China seeks to displace the United States as global hegemon.Arthur Kroeber adds an economic dimension, tracing how China's export-driven model has generated massive global surpluses — and why the resulting tensions with trading partners are, in his view, a structural problem rather than evidence of strategic malice. He argues that much of what looks like geopolitical aggression is better understood as the consequence of an economic model operating at enormous scale with insufficient domestic demand to absorb its own output.Shao Yuqun, speaking from her perch at the Shanghai Institutes for International Studies, offers the most pointed challenge to the panel's relatively sanguine framing. She argues that the United States' own behavior — erratic policy, withdrawal from multilateral commitments, and the disruptions of the Trump era — has itself destabilized the order that American strategists claim to be defending. She is measured but direct, and her presence gives the conversation a texture that too many Washington panels lack.The discussion ranges across China's Iran diplomacy, the prospects for a US-China summit, the question of whether Beijing is exploiting Trump-era tensions to deepen ties with traditional US allies, and — in a lively closing exchange — who the next generation of Chinese leadership looks like (with Kroeber's deadpan answer, "Xi Jinping," getting the biggest laugh of the session).Guests:Jessica Chen Weiss, David M. Lampton Professor of China Studies, Johns Hopkins SAIS; Inaugural Faculty Director, ACFDan Taylor, Adjunct Researcher, Institute for Defense Analyses; Senior Fellow, Johns Hopkins SAIS ACFArthur Kroeber, Founding Partner, Gavekal DragonomicsShao Yuqun, Director, Institute for Taiwan, Hong Kong & Macao Studies, Shanghai Institutes for International StudiesModerator: Demetri Sevastopulo, US-China Correspondent, Financial TimesRemaining sessions from the conference — on what the United States wants, tech rivalry and competing visions of the future, and a fireside chat between Henry Farrell and Alondra Nelson on the AI race reconsidered — will be released over the coming weeks.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

China's top court disclosed the details of four major cases related to the trafficking of women and children on Thursday, reaffirming its commitment to imposing severe penalties on offenders, even as the incidence of such crimes has decreased.最高人民法院4月2日公布了四起重大拐卖妇女儿童案件详情，重申对此类犯罪依法从严惩处的立场，尽管相关案件发生率已有所下降。According to the Supreme People's Court, from 2012 to 2025, the number of these criminal cases fell by nearly 78 percent, indicating that the country has effectively curbed such offenses.据最高人民法院数据，2012年至2025年间，全国拐卖妇女儿童刑事案件数量下降近78%，表明我国已有效遏制此类犯罪。The top court reiterated its strong stance on punishing these crimes harshly, highlighting the need for stricter penalties — particularly for ringleaders and those involved in serious crimes like child abduction, trafficking multiple victims, or forcing victims into prostitution.最高法重申依法严惩此类犯罪的坚定态度，强调要从严处罚，特别是对犯罪集团首要分子、重要成员以及参与拐卖多名儿童或强迫被拐卖者卖淫等严重罪行者。In cases with grave consequences, such as causing death or severe mental distress to victims or their families, the death penalty was applied without hesitation, the court emphasized.最高法指出，对于犯罪情节特别严重的案件，如造成被害人或其家庭死亡、精神严重创伤等后果的，坚决依法判处死刑。Data from 2021 to 2025 showed that the percentage of trafficking convictions resulting in sentences of 10 years or more was 10 percentage points higher than the rate for all criminal cases.2021年至2025年数据显示，拐卖妇女儿童案件中判处十年以上有期徒刑的比例，高出全部刑事案件相应比例十个百分点。One case disclosed and highlighted by the top court involved an individual surnamed Wang, who was sentenced to death for trafficking more than 10 children.最高法公布的一起典型案例中，一名王姓男子因拐卖十余名儿童被判处死刑。Wang began abducting and trafficking children in October 2001. He was initially sentenced to three years in prison in 2006 for kidnapping a child. After his release in July 2008, Wang resumed his criminal activities, leading to a 15-year sentence in December 2015 for trafficking three other children.王某于2001年10月开始拐卖儿童。2006年，他因拐骗一名儿童被判处有期徒刑三年。2008年7月刑满释放后，王某再次作案，于2015年12月因拐卖另外三名儿童被判处有期徒刑十五年。While he was serving his sentence, further investigations revealed that between October 2001 and May 2010, he was involved in the abduction and sale of 11 additional children under the age of 6 from various provinces, including Hunan, Hubei, and Sichuan, to Guangdong province. Wang profited approximately 199,000 yuan ($28,955) from these crimes.服刑期间，警方进一步侦查发现，2001年10月至2010年5月间，王某还曾从湖南、湖北、四川等地拐卖11名未满6周岁的儿童至广东省，非法获利约19.9万元人民币。Wang's actions had severe psychological and financial impacts on the victims' families, leading some to divorce or attempt suicide.王某的犯罪行为给被害儿童家庭造成严重精神打击和经济损失，部分家庭因此离异或有人试图自杀。Given the large number of children he abducted and trafficked, the particularly heinous nature of his crimes, his role as a ringleader, and his status as a repeat offender, he was finally sentenced to death and recently executed.鉴于王某拐卖儿童人数众多，犯罪情节特别恶劣，系犯罪首要分子，且属累犯，最终被判处死刑，近日已执行。The top court stated that capital punishment underscores the judiciary's firm stance against child traffickers and serves as a warning to those who might seek to profit from such criminal activities.最高法表示，死刑判决彰显了司法机关依法严惩拐卖儿童犯罪的坚定立场，也是对妄图以此牟利者的严厉警示。reiterate /riːˈɪtəreɪt/重申；反复说ringleader /ˈrɪŋˌliːdər/首要分子；主谋grave consequences /ɡreɪv ˈkɑːnsəkwensɪz/严重后果heinous /ˈheɪnəs/极其恶劣的；令人发指的

Economic historian Adam Tooze returns to Sinica fresh from the China Development Forum and his second extended visit to Beijing in under a year. In this wide-ranging conversation, Adam and I cover the 15th Five-Year Plan — what it signals about Beijing's development priorities and whether it represents a genuine shift away from investment-led growth — and the extraordinary scale of China's renewable energy buildout, which Adam argues may be bringing us to the global peak of CO2 emissions right now.They discuss the concept of the “big green state,” why Western analysts keep dancing around the role of the CPC in driving China's environmental transformation, and what the “Chinamaxxing” phenomenon says about a slow but real reckoning in Western public consciousness. From Europe's evolving posture toward China — caught between EV anxieties and transatlantic rupture — to China's role in the Global South's energy future, the conversation moves through coal transitions, Indonesian nickel zones, African microgrids, and the collapse of the flying geese model.The episode closes with a frank exchange on the Iran war, the postponed Trump-Xi summit, the stunning political silence on American campuses, and what Beijing is most likely doing: sitting pretty and waiting it out. Adam also offers a preview of his forthcoming book on the energy transition — which turns out to be another massive one — and recommends Tim Sahay and Wang Hui as essential reading.02:44 – Adam's Chinese language study: HSK3, the Confucius Institute curriculum, and the joys of chasing characters09:41 – The jìhuà/guīhuà distinction and what the shift in nomenclature from the 11th Five-Year Plan onward actually signals12:01 – The 15th Five-Year Plan: green energy tinkering, sci-tech ambitions, and the human development dimension18:10 – Does Beijing genuinely mean to shift from investment-led growth? Reading “high quality development” and “common prosperity”22:38 – The Great Reckoning: has Western intellectual and policy consciousness actually moved on China?29:45 – Environmental authoritarianism, the CPC as mobilizing institution, and why Xi's “petty bourgeois environmentalism” deserves to be taken seriously33:39 – Persistent misperceptions of China in Western discourse; the “jaundiced American” trench perspective39:16 – European neuralgia: EV overcapacity, Ukraine, and whether transatlantic rupture opens a window for China45:02 – China and the Global South: the end of the flying geese model, African microgrids, Indonesian nickel zones, and BRI record lending59:32 – Mark Carney's “age of rupture”: does the framing capture something real, or does it flatter the West?01:05:18 – What Beijing sees from its windows: Iran, Venezuela, the postponed Trump-Xi summit, and a five-point plan for Chinese hegemony (that won't happen)01:14:55 – Preview of Adam's forthcoming book on the energy transition and the “second world” thesisPaying It Forward: Tim Sahay (PolyCrisis / Phenomenal World)Recommendations:Adam: Wang Hui's The End of the RevolutionKaiser: The Chinese series Shēng mìng shù (Born to Be Alive)See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

The convergence of student spring breaks in multiple Chinese cities with the upcoming Qingming Festival, or Tomb Sweeping Day, has created an extended travel period from Wednesday to April 6, forming a key new growth opportunity for the tourism market, according to travel agencies.多家旅行社表示，国内多个城市的学生春假与即将到来的清明假期相连，从4月1日至4月6日形成了一个连续的出游周期，为旅游市场带来了重要的新增长机遇。Industry data showed that the six-day window is driving two distinct travel peaks and fueling a significant surge in domestic and outbound travel. This alignment has effectively bridged the gap between the Spring Festival and May Day holidays.行业数据显示，这六天窗口期催生了两个明显的出游高峰，带动国内游和出境游显著增长。这一安排有效衔接了春节和五一假期。According to the latest booking figures from online travel agency Tuniu, the extended break will give rise to two distinct travel peaks. The first will occur on Wednesday and Thursday, driven primarily by families taking advantage of spring break, while the second peak will fall on Saturday, the first day of Qingming Festival, as vacationers head out for spring outings and flower viewing.途牛旅游网最新预订数据显示，这次连续的假期将形成两个明显的出游高峰。第一个高峰出现在4月1日至2日，主要由利用春假出行的家庭游客构成；第二个高峰则出现在4月4日清明节假期首日，以踏青赏花的休闲游客为主。More than 70 percent of travelers planning trips in early April have chosen to set out between Wednesday and Friday, taking advantage of the staggered schedule to avoid congestion, Tuniu data showed. Nearly 65 percent of these travelers have opted for trips lasting three to five days, striking a balance between travel depth and the demands of work and school.途牛数据显示，超过70%计划在4月初出游的游客选择在4月1日至3日之间错峰出发。近65%的游客选择3至5天的行程，在游玩深度与工作学习安排之间取得平衡。The spring break has unleashed a surge in family travel, with destinations such as Shanghai, Beijing, Guangzhou in Guangdong province, Sanya in Hainan province, Xi'an in Shaanxi province and Nanjing in Jiangsu province emerging as top choices.春假带动了家庭出游热潮，上海、北京、广州、三亚、西安、南京等成为热门选择。Bookings have risen sharply for theme parks such as Shanghai Disney Resort, Zhuhai Chimelong International Ocean Resort and Universal Beijing Resort, as well as botanical gardens, museums and science education venues.上海迪士尼度假区、珠海长隆国际海洋度假区、北京环球度假区等主题公园，以及植物园、博物馆、科普教育场馆的预订量显著增长。The six-day break has also fueled demand for outbound travel. In addition to China's Hong Kong and Macao special administrative regions, tropical destinations such as Bangkok and Pattaya in Thailand, Bali, the Maldives, Kuala Lumpur and Singapore are among the most booked overseas choices, according to Tuniu.六天假期也带动了出境游需求。途牛数据显示，除港澳地区外，泰国曼谷、芭提雅，印度尼西亚巴厘岛，马尔代夫，马来西亚吉隆坡，新加坡等热带目的地成为预订量最高的境外选择。The travel platform Qunar also reported a marked increase in expected travel activity from Wednesday to April 6, driven by the combination of spring breaks and Qingming Festival. Bookings show that flight passenger volumes to popular cities have risen 30 percent year-on-year, with the number of under-18 air travelers expected to more than double.去哪儿平台也报告称，受春假与清明假期叠加影响，4月1日至4月6日期间的旅游出行活动显著增加。预订数据显示，热门城市机票旅客量同比增长三成，18岁以下青少年旅客出行量预计增长超一倍。Hotel bookings in Guangzhou surged 180 percent year-on-year, while Sanya saw a 140 percent increase. Luoyang in Henan province and Hangzhou in Zhejiang province each recorded gains of around 120 percent, and bookings in Beijing nearly doubled, according to Qunar.据去哪儿统计，广州酒店预订量同比增长180%，三亚增长140%，河南洛阳和浙江杭州均增长约120%，北京预订量接近翻番。Cities that implemented spring break policies are seeing particularly strong outbound travel demand. In Chengdu, Sichuan province, which accounted for the highest number of outbound flights during the period, the number of travelers scheduled to depart on Tuesday and Wednesday surged 160 percent from the previous two days. Departures scheduled for Wednesday alone rose 530 percent year-on-year.实施春假政策的城市出游需求尤为强劲。四川省成都市在该时段出境航班数量最多，3月31日至4月1日出行的旅客量较前两日增长160%，4月1日单日出行的旅客量同比增长530%。Several cities with spring break travel policies also saw gains in inbound arrivals. In Yibin, Sichuan province, where scenic spots are offering free admission to primary and secondary school students and teachers throughout April, local hotel bookings from Wednesday to April 6 rose 160 percent year-on-year. Mianyang, also in Sichuan, saw hotel bookings increase 95 percent after offering joint ticket discounts for children and parents.多个实施春假政策的城市也迎来入境游增长。四川省宜宾市4月内面向中小学生及教师实行景区免票政策，当地4月1日至4月6日酒店预订量同比增长160%。同样位于四川的绵阳市推出亲子联票优惠后，酒店预订量增长95%。Yang Han, a researcher at Qunar's big data institute, said the alignment of spring break with Qingming Festival has significantly boosted travel demand and helped smooth out peak travel periods. "It offers travelers better value and a more comfortable experience," Yang said.去哪儿大数据研究院研究员杨涵表示，春假与清明假期的叠加有效拉动了出行需求，同时起到了平抑高峰的作用。"这为游客带来了更好的性价比和更舒适的体验。""For cities that introduced spring break policies, the effect has been twofold: sending travelers out while also attracting visitors — a new driver for the cultural tourism market between the Spring Festival and May Day holidays," she added.杨涵表示，"对推行春假的城市而言，既送出了游客，也吸引了游客，成为春节后到五一长假前文旅市场的新增量。"Cheng Yuhan, a freshman at a university in Huai'an, Jiangsu province, will take a five-day break from Thursday to April 6, as her spring break aligns with Qingming Festival.江苏省淮安市某高校大一学生程雨涵今年春假与清明假期相连，将从4月2日至4月6日连休五天。She planned to volunteer at a local kindergarten, attend marathon volunteer training, and then travel with her aunt and uncle from Saturday to Sunday to Changzhou and Suzhou in Jiangsu.她计划先在当地幼儿园做志愿者，并参加马拉松志愿者培训，随后与姑姑姑父于4月4日至5日前往江苏省内常州、苏州游玩。"They are very open-minded and let me plan the whole trip — the itinerary, routes, budget, accommodations, everything," Cheng said. "I'm really looking forward to it.""他们很开明，让我全权规划行程、路线、预算、住宿等等，"程雨涵说，"我真的很期待这次旅行。" travel peaks /ˈtrævəl piːks/旅游高峰staggered schedule /ˈstæɡəd ˈʃedjuːl/错峰安排spring break /sprɪŋ breɪk/春假

This week on Sinica, I welcome journalist and former colleague Chang Che. His recent New Yorker piece "How China Learned to Love the Classics" generated enormous attention. We explore one of the more surprising cultural phenomena in contemporary China: a growing, state-backed enthusiasm for the Greco-Roman classics. We dig into what's actually driving this revival, from the genuine intellectual curiosity of scholars like He Yanxiao, who fell in love with the Odyssey as a Chinese high school student and went on to earn a Chicago PhD, to what might be the more deliberate strategic ambitions of figures like Politburo member Li Shulei and the shadow of philosopher Liu Xiaofeng's Straussianism. We also compare Chang's warmly enchanted 2022 China Project piece on Austrian classicist Leopold Lieb to the politically sharper New Yorker piece four years later — and ask what that shift in tone tells us about what's actually changed. This is an episode about civilizational discourse, soft power, and the strange fate of scholarship when the state decides it finds your obscure passion useful.00:32 – Kaiser introduces the episode from Beijing and reflects on the asymmetry in how the West covers Chinese intellectual curiosity 04:08 – Civilizationist discourse: Spengler, Huntington, and The Civilization Trap 10:56 – Introducing Chang Che and the evolution from his 2022 China Project piece to the New Yorker 15:38 – How Chang first got drawn into the subject: Latin classes, Charlottesville, and young Chinese classicists returning from American PhDs 21:38 – What changed in four years: the state moves from background to foreground 25:28 – Inside the institutional push: what China's "classics departments" actually look like, and who controls the definition of "classics" 31:13 – Xi Jinping's letter to Greek scholars and the move, perhaps, to sever ancient Greece from the modern West 39:57 – Liu Xiaofeng, Leo Strauss, and why Strauss fever gripped Chinese intellectuals after 1989 47:03 – The Padilla Peralta "incident" and the strange porousness between American and Chinese discourse communities on the classics 52:13 – Chenchen Zhang's framework: civilizationist discourse claims difference internationally while enforcing homogeneity domestically 57:30 – He Yanxiao, K-pop, and the idea of "Chinatown classics" 01:07:13 – Where will China's classics revival be in ten years?Paying It Forward: Dongxian Jiang (Fordham) and Simon Luo (Nanyang Technological University)Recommendations: Chang recommends House of the Dragon; Kaiser recommends the Ah-Q Arkestra, led by trombonist Matt Roberts, whose latest album Méiyǒu yìjiàn is on Spotify.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Thousands of visitors flock to witness beauty of blossoms around the country数千游客争睹全国花海盛景Rising temperatures herald the season to chase flowers in China. Thousands of visitors from home and abroad descend on the nation's most picturesque spring landscapes to capture the beauty of the blossoms, boosting consumption in the process.随着气温回升，中国迎来了赏花踏青的季节。成千上万的国内外游客纷纷涌向国内风景最美的春日景观，争相定格花朵盛放的美丽瞬间，这也带动了文旅消费热潮。In mid-March, Yuantouzhu scenic area in Wuxi, Jiangsu province, entered "congestion mode". By 5 pm on March 14, the area had welcomed nearly 70,000 visitors, setting a record for this year's cherry blossom season, according to Shangyou News.3月中旬，江苏省无锡市鼋头渚景区进入"拥堵模式"。据上游新闻报道，截至3月14日下午5时，该景区已接待游客近7万人次，创下今年樱花季的单日客流量纪录。"I knew it would be crowded, but I just couldn't miss such beautiful cherry blossoms," said Zhang, a tourist from Nanjing, Jiangsu, as she navigated the sea of visitors trying to capture the perfect photo. "It's so hard to get pictures of the flowers without people in them, so I had to settle for photos with strangers included."来自南京的游客张女士在人群中寻找最佳拍摄角度时说："我知道人会很多，但实在不想错过这么美的樱花。"她无奈地笑道："想拍一张没有路人入镜的照片太难了，最后只能凑合拍些带陌生人的照片。"According to travel platform Qunar, the weekend of March 14 and 15 saw searches for flower viewing-related keywords increase more than 60 percent week-on-week.据去哪儿旅行平台数据显示，3月14日至15日周末期间，"赏花"相关关键词的搜索量环比增长超过60%。Traditional hot spots, including Hangzhou in Zhejiang province, Chengdu in Sichuan province, Wuhan in Hubei province, and Kunming and Dali in Yunnan province, continue to rank among the top 15 tourist destinations this season.传统的热门赏花地依然稳居今春旅游目的地前15名，包括浙江杭州、四川成都、湖北武汉、云南昆明和大理等地。In Beijing, magnolia and mountain peach trees are already blooming, painting the city with the first burst of spring colors. Mountain peach blossoms at the Summer Palace's west dike and Olympic Forest Park entered peak blooming season in mid-March. Early cherry blossoms at Yuyuantan Park can be seen now, with Qunar reporting a 50 percent year-on-year increase in flower-viewing searches in the capital. Hotels near Qianmen, the Temple of Heaven and Chaoyang Park — known for their photogenic flower spots — are witnessing brisk bookings.在北京，玉兰和山桃已经吐蕊，为城市染上第一抹春色。颐和园西堤和奥林匹克森林公园的山桃花在3月中旬进入盛花期。玉渊潭公园的早樱也已开放，据去哪儿网数据，北京"赏花"搜索量同比增长50%。前门、天坛、朝阳公园附近因拥有绝佳的花景拍摄点，酒店预订量节节攀升。Beijing resident Li Kai said that he took half a day off from work on Wednesday to enjoy the early cherry blossoms at Yuyuantan after seeing photos on social media.北京市民李凯说，他在社交媒体上看到玉渊潭公园的樱花照片后，周三专门请了半天假去赏早樱。"The blossoms looked so beautiful against the clear water and blue sky — my mood instantly lifted," he said."清澈的湖水和蓝天映衬下的樱花美不胜收——我的心情一下子就明媚起来了。"他说。In Wuhan, early cherry blossoms have entered peak viewing season. Flight bookings to the city in March increased 12.5 percent year-on-year.在武汉，早樱已进入最佳观赏期。3月飞往武汉的航班预订量同比增长12.5%。China's spring scenery is also attracting foreigners. According to Qunar, in March, domestic flight bookings made with non-Chinese passports rose 21 percent year-on-year.中国的春日美景也吸引着外国游客。根据去哪儿网数据，3月使用非中国护照预订国内航班的旅客数量同比增长21%。Nyingchi in the Xizang autonomous region saw a 630 percent surge in foreign arrivals for its pink peach blossoms. Datong in Shanxi province, famous for apricot blossoms, recorded an increase of over 900 percent. Kashgar and Yining in the Xinjiang Uygur autonomous region saw foreign tourist numbers rise 500 percent and 350 percent, respectively.西藏林芝的桃花吸引了大量外国游客，相关订单量激增630%；以杏花闻名的山西大同，外国游客数量增幅超过900%；新疆喀什和伊宁的外国游客数量则分别增长了500%和350%。The spike in demand comes amid a sharp fall in airfares. Prices are lower by 30 to 70 percent on multiple routes compared with February. One-way flights from Beijing to Hangzhou, Wuxi or Wuhan are available for as little as 300 yuan ($44), making them even cheaper than high-speed train tickets.旅游需求激增的同时，机票价格却大幅下降。多条航线的机票价格较2月下降了30%至70%。从北京飞往杭州、无锡或武汉的单程机票最低仅需300元（约合44美元），比高铁票还便宜。Lyu Ning, dean of Beijing International Studies University's School of Tourism Sciences, said the focus of flower-viewing tours in 2026 is immersive experiences and scenario innovation.北京第二外国语学院旅游科学学院院长吕宁表示，2026年赏花旅游的核心在于沉浸式体验与场景创新。"There is a strong sense of immersion. There is a shift from superficial viewing to deep participation," she said.她说："沉浸感显著增强，正在从浅层的观看式游览向深度的参与式体验转变。"Lyu added that flower-viewing also creates a full consumption chain — transportation, accommodations, dining, experiences and shopping — transforming floral landscapes into an economic driver.吕宁还补充说，赏花活动还能带动交通、住宿、餐饮、体验、购物等全链条消费，将"花海"转化为实实在在的经济动能。herald /ˈherəld/预示；宣布 magnolia /mæɡˈnoʊliə/玉兰 brisk /brɪsk/兴旺的；轻快的 airfare /ˈeə(r)fer/机票费用

Why was Ai Weiwei kidnapped and held prisoner by the Chinese government? How did the 2008 Sichuan earthquake radicalise him into taking aim at the authorities through art? What's behind Ai Weiwei's belief that there is a serious censorship issue in the West?  Rory and Alastair are joined by Artist and Activist, Ai Weiwei, to answer all this and more.  Search IG.com to find out more and/or Look for IG in your app store. Join The Rest Is Politics Plus: Start your free trial at therestispolitics.com to unlock exclusive bonus content – including Rory and Alastair's miniseries – plus ad-free listening, early access to episodes and live show tickets, an exclusive members' newsletter, discounted book prices, and a private chatroom on Discord. Social Producer: Celine Charles Video Editor: Josh Smith + Bruno Di Castri Producer: Alice Horrell Senior Producer: Nicole Maslen Head of Politics: Tom Whiter Exec Producers: Tony Pastor + Jack Davenport Advertise with us: Partnerships@goalhanger.com Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Repasamos discos de reciente aparición que nos revelan una infinidad de mundos sonoros, muchas veces desconocidos, viajando desde la música tradicional recogida en las propias comunidades a las aventuras más arriesgadas, con afiladas guitarras o electrónica. La música nos lleva por Etiopía, Nueva York, Inglaterra, Noruega, Italia, Portugal y por la sonoridad de las comunidades rurales de Serbia, de los gitanos de Eslovaquia, de los gagaúces de Moldavia, los pueblos miaos del sur de China o la emigración camboyana a los Estados Unidos. We review recently released albums that reveal an infinity of sound worlds, often unknown, travelling from traditional music collected within the communities themselves to the most daring adventures, with sharp guitars or electronics. Music takes us through Ethiopia, New York, England, Norway, Italy, Portugal, and through the soundscape of the popular communities of Serbia, of the Roma of Slovakia, of the Gagauz of Moldova, the Miao peoples of southern China, or the Cambodian diaspora in the United States. - K8A  - Gondar - Woradj alle - Hedera - Mayflies in June - Hedera - Gangar - Skomakerhallingen - Dreng - Alessandro D'Alessandro + Ghiaccioli e Branzini - Mulaforbice - Banditori - Cara de Espelho - Gigantone - B - Júlia Kozáková - Šun Devla - Manuša II - Sevda Ensemble of Cazaclia Village - Demyana - Kazayak Dört Köseli: Gagauz Songs from Moldova  - Dušan Stanković - Svirka na gajdama - Traditional music of the Niš region [V.A.] - [Artistas populares / Folk artstists] - Shui Miao travelling song (Guizhou) - Miao mouthorgans & other rare instruments in Guizhou, Sichuan, China [V.A.] - [Artistas populares / Folk artstists] - Miao three mouthorgans (Guizhou) - Miao mouthorgans & other rare instruments in Guizhou, Sichuan, China [V.A.] - Chum Ngek, Sara Say, Masady Man - Preah Eysor keut tuk (Shiva becomes worried) - Agangamasor & his magic power: An original musical retelling of a classical Cambodian myth

David M. Lampton—“Mike”—is one of America's most distinguished scholars of U.S.–China relations, director of China Studies Emeritus at Johns Hopkins SAIS, and the author of landmark works on Chinese politics and foreign policy. He joins me this week to discuss a striking new Foreign Affairs essay he co-authored with the eminent Chinese international relations scholar Wang Jisi of Peking University: “America and China at the Edge of Ruin: A Last Chance to Step Back from the Brink.”Written against the backdrop of President Trump's planned visit to China (and before the outbreak of the U.S.–Israeli war on Iran), the essay is less a routine policy paper than an urgent intervention — two veteran scholars, one American and one Chinese, throwing a rope across a widening chasm. They argue that strategic rivalry has become self-reinforcing, that the greatest danger is no longer deliberate conflict but accidental war driven by miscalculation and escalation dynamics neither side fully controls, and that a rare, narrow window for “a new normalization” may now be opening.We range across the essay's boldest claims — on Taiwan as the unlikely starting point for stabilization, the corrosive logic of securitization, the ghost of the first Cold War, and the looming talent crisis in serious China studies — in a meaty, substantive conversation.3:39 How the Lampton–Wang Jisi collaboration came together6:31 The division of labor and the essay's unified voice9:15 Wang Jisi's cognitive empathy and his unusual depth of American understanding13:57 The essay's emotional register: veteran scholars and the specter of another Cold War16:32 From reassurance to deterrence—and why deterrence keeps getting harder to maintain25:02 Mirror-image threat narratives as self-fulfilling operating systems32:08 Securitization, the “one-way ratchet,” and whether economic interdependence can be rebuilt39:23 Accidental war: what has changed since Hainan 2001 and Belgrade 199944:16 Where the most damaging choices were made—China's Ukraine pivot, U.S. arms-control withdrawals51:29 The window of opportunity: Trump's China visit, the 4th Plenum, and post-Iran recalculation1:01:30 Taiwan as the counterintuitive starting point for stabilization1:10:03 Collapse fantasies, hubris, and the Pearl Harbor danger of “act now or lose the window”1:13:14 The looming China-talent crisis and the future of the fieldPaying It ForwardMike highlights Rosie Levine, executive director of the U.S.–China Education Trust, where she is leading a major new initiative to expand serious American scholarship in China and encourage Chinese institutions to open their doors wider to foreign researchers and students.RecommendationsMike: The Raider by Stephen R. Platt (Knopf, 2025) — a biography of Major Evans Carlson, the swashbuckling Marine officer who trained with Chinese Communist forces in the 1930s, befriended Zhu De, brought the word “gung-ho” into English, and died in 1947 just in time to miss both the PRC's turn away from liberty and McCarthyism's persecution at home.Kaiser: “How China Learned to Love the Classics,” a New Yorker piece by Chang Che on the remarkable renaissance of interest in Greco-Roman philosophy and literature in contemporary China — and what it says about the world we now inhabit. See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Jing Gao grew up in Sichuan, bounced through Canada, landed in Shanghai, and revolutionized the hot sauce aisle at Walmart. Her brand, Fly By Jing, went from a Kickstarter she was terrified to launch to a 10x business overnight thanks to a New York Times article she didn't even know she was being interviewed for. Along the way, she ran underground supper clubs, trained under one of China's top chefs, and made a convincing argument that chili crisp goes on vanilla ice cream.  Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

This week on Sinica, I speak with Daniela Stockmann and Ting Luo, co-authors of Governing Digital China, a new book that examines how an authoritarian state governs a digital ecosystem it doesn't fully own, can never fully control, and yet fundamentally depends on. Danie — a professor of digital governance at the Hertie School in Berlin and a returning Sinica guest, having joined us way back in 2014 to discuss her earlier book on media commercialization and authoritarian rule — and Ting, associate professor in government and artificial intelligence at the University of Birmingham, together offer a richly empirical account of the triangular relationship between the Chinese state, major platform companies, and ordinary internet users. Rather than treating firms as mere instruments of party control or citizens as passive subjects of surveillance, they develop a framework they call "popular corporatism," which captures how bargaining, incentives, and user preferences shape what is and isn't permissible in China's digital spaces — including the endlessly misunderstood social credit system.4:32 — The digital dilemma: how digital platforms simultaneously empower economic development and create political risk for the party-state — a tension that isn't unique to authoritarian regimes7:45 — Why the command-and-control model falls short: platforms require technical expertise and user engagement the state lacks, and firms like Tencent and Sina have real leverage as a result11:41 — Popular corporatism explained: why users — including the "silent majority" of lurkers — must be foregrounded in any account of China's digital governance, and how firms become state "consultants" and "insiders"21:09 — The survey: GPS-based nationally representative sampling, how to desensitize politically sensitive questions, and why this kind of research can no longer be conducted in China27:22 — Lurkers vs. discussants: the 90-9-1 rule and the counterintuitive finding that users who perceive more openness on platforms like WeChat and Weibo report higher political trust in the central government35:40 — Functional liberalization: why partial openness should be understood as governance strategy, not mere concession — and what the fandom-community doxing wars illustrate about that39:23 — The social credit system: what it actually is, what it is not, and why the Black Mirror version is a myth42:38 — Two subsystems, one misunderstood system: the financial/commercial credit infrastructure, the local-government behavioral programs, and how Sesame Credit and court blacklists actually fit together46:20 — The privacy paradox and political trust: why convenience routinely overrides stated privacy preferences — and why where Alipay is most embedded, residents trust the state most52:42 — Stability, exportability, and the Orwell-versus-Huxley question: what preconditions popular corporatism requires, which other developmental states it might apply to, and why China's digital governance is better understood as a coercion-cooption balancing actPaying It ForwardTing Luo recommends Ning Leng, assistant professor at Georgetown University and author of Politicizing Business: How Firms Are Made to Serve the Party State in China.Daniela Stockmann recommends Felix Garten, postdoctoral researcher at the Hertie School, whose work examines how Chinese tech companies behave when operating in regulatory environments outside China — including the EU, Malaysia, and Singapore.RecommendationsDaniela: The Legend of the Female General 《锦月如歌》, a Chinese historical drama available on YouTube with English subtitles, especially for anyone interested in internal martial arts and martial heroines in Chinese popular culture.Ting Luo：Bordeaux, France — specifically, just going there and drinking excellent wine.Kaiser: Two Substack newsletters for following China's relationship with the Middle East, especially as the American-Israeli war against Iran continues to unfold: Jonathan Fulton's China-MENA Newsletter and Jesse Marks's Coffee in the Desert See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

This week on Sinica, I speak with Yi-Ling Liu, journalist, former China editor at Rest of World, and author of the new book The Wall Dancers: Searching for Freedom and Connection on the Chinese Internet. Yi-Ling's book traces the arc of Chinese online life through five protagonists — a rapper, a gay rights entrepreneur, a feminist activist, a science fiction writer, and an internet censor — each navigating the creative and constrictive forces of the Chinese internet in their own way. The result is a deeply reported, novelistic account of what it felt like to live, create, and push back in one of the most surveilled and dynamic digital environments on earth. We discuss the book's central metaphor of "dancing in shackles," the early utopian glow of Chinese netizen culture, the parallel fates of hip hop and science fiction under the state's alternating embrace and constraint, and the eerie convergence between the Chinese internet and our own.0:06 — "Wall dancers" as a metaphor: what it captures that "dissident" or "netizen" doesn't0:09 — Why 网民 (wǎngmín) took root in China as a concept of digital citizenship0:13 — The early Chinese internet: more open than we remember, but not as free as the myth suggests0:15 — Ma Baoli: closeted cop to CEO of China's largest gay dating app, and the Gay Talese reporting strategy0:20 — Lan Yu, Beijing Story, and the film that became a coming-out moment for a generation of queer men0:22 — Pragmatism at the heart of the dance: how individuals and the state negotiated the internet together0:28 — Lu Pin and Feminist Voices: from "playing boundary ball" to sudden exile0:35 — Stanley Chen Qiufan and the state's attempt to co-opt science fiction for nationalist ends0:43 — The generational split in Chinese sci-fi: Liu Cixin's cosmic scale vs. the near-future unease of Chen Qiufan and Hao Jingfang0:46 — Hip hop's arc: from underground scenes in Chengdu and Beijing to The Rap of China and sudden constraint0:51 — Eric Liu, the Weibo censor: humanizing the firewall from the inside0:55 — Common prosperity, Wang Huning, and the moral panic behind the crackdown on "effeminate" culture0:59 — Techno-utopianism in retrospect: was the emancipatory internet always a fantasy?1:03 — The convergence of the Chinese and American internets: Weibo and Twitter, TikTok and Oracle1:07 — What it means to be free: how the book expanded Yi-Ling's sense of what freedoms people actually wantPaying it forward: Zeyi Yang, technology reporter at WIRED, and co-author (with Louise Matsakis) of the excellent tech x China newsletter Made in ChinaRecommendations:Yi-Ling: The Loneliness of Sonia and Sunny by Kiran Desai; Machine Decision is Not Final, an anthology of essays on Chinese AI compiled by scholars affiliated with NYU Shanghai.Kaiser: The Coming Storm: Power, Conflict and Warnings from History by Odd Arne Westad (forthcoming); Essays from Pallavi Aiyar's Substack The Global Jigsaw, particularly "How Has China Succeeded in Making People Mind their Manners" and "Why I Would Rather Be Born Chinese than Indian Today."See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

This week on Sinica, I speak with Kyle Chan, a fellow at the John L. Thornton China Center at Brookings, previously a postdoc at Princeton, and author of the outstanding High-Capacity Newsletter on Substack. Kyle has emerged as one of the sharpest and most empirically grounded voices on U.S.-China technology relations, and he holds the all-time record for the most namechecks on Sinica's “Paying it forward” segment. We use his recent Financial Times op-ed on “The Great Reversal” in global technology flows and his longer High-Capacity essay on re-coupling as jumping-off points for a wide-ranging conversation about where China now sits at the global technological frontier, why the dominant decoupling narrative misses powerful structural forces pulling the two economies back together, and what all of this means for innovation, choke points, and the global tech ecosystem.4:35 – How Kyle became Kyle Chan: from Chicago School economics to development, railways, and systems thinking 12:50 – The Great Reversal: China at the technological frontier, from megawatt EV charging to LFP batteries 17:59 – The electro-industrial tech stack and China's overlapping, mutually reinforcing tech ecosystems 22:40 – Industrial strategy and time horizons: patience, persistence, and the long arc of China's auto industry 33:45 – Re-coupling under pressure: Waymo and Zeekr, Unitree robots, and the structural forces binding the two economies 40:22 – The gravity model: can political distance overwhelm technological mass? 47:01 – What China still wants from the U.S.: Cursor, GitHub, talent, and the AI brain drain 51:52 – Weaponized interdependence and the danger of securitizing everything 57:30 – Firm-level adaptation: HeyGen, Manus, and the playbook for de-sinification 1:02:58 – The view from the middle: Gulf states, Southeast Asia, and India as geopolitical arbitrageurs 1:10:18 – Engineering resilience: what policymakers are getting wrong about the systems they're buildingPaying it forward: Katrina Northrop; Grace Shao and her AI Proem newsletterRecommendations:Kyle: Wired Magazine's Made in China newsletter (by Zeyi Yang and Louise Matsakis); The Wire China Kaiser: The Wall Dancers: Searching for Freedom and Connection on the Chinese Internet by Yi-Ling LiuSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

This week on Sinica, I speak with Patricia Kim, a Fellow at the Brookings Institution's John L. Thornton China Center, where she focuses on U.S. policy toward China and the broader Asia Pacific. One year into Donald Trump's second term, Pattie and her colleague Joyce Yang have published a comprehensive Brookings assessment titled "Making America Great Again? Evaluating Trump's China strategy at the one-year mark," which examines whether the administration's stated objectives on reindustrialization, AI leadership, strategic dependence, and global standing are actually being met. We discuss the paradox of Trump's China policy (which is surprising consistency in goals despite the absence of a formal strategy document), with its mixed results on economic rebalancing and supply chain security, the troubling deterioration in U.S.-China diplomatic and military channels, and why the administration's approach to allies and partners may be undermining its own objectives. Pattie brings analytical discipline and empirical rigor to debates that are often long on rhetoric and short on evidence, cutting through a lot of noise to assess what's actually working, what isn't, and where the strategy is running up against reality.4:45 – Does Trump have a China strategy? Consistency without a formal framework8:15 – Assessing the economic rebalancing goals: reindustrialization and tariffs15:30 – Technology competition: export controls and AI leadership23:45 – Supply chain security and strategic dependence challenges31:20 – The deterioration of diplomatic and military-to-military channels39:50 – The ally and partner problem: how Trump's approach undermines his own goals47:15 – Global standing and American credibility in the Trump era52:30 – Paying it forward: The Lost in Translation series at BrookingsPaying it forward:Lost in Translation Series (Brookings Global China Project)Recommendations:Pattie: To Dare Mighty Things by Michael O'HanlonKaiser: Stalingrad by Vasily GrossmanSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

This week on Sinica, I speak with Ryan Hass, director of the John L. Thornton China Center at Brookings and one of the most clear-eyed analysts of the U.S.-China relationship working today. Ryan was director for China at the NSC during the Obama Administration.As Donald Trump moves through his second year in office, the bilateral relationship has defied easy characterization. The once-dominant language of great power competition has receded, China hawks have been sidelined, and Trump's personalistic approach—marked by praise for Xi Jinping and a willingness to bracket ideological disputes—represents a sharp departure from recent Washington orthodoxy.Ryan has just published an essay laying out three plausible pathways for the relationship under Trump: a soft landing, a hard split, or what he considers most likely—a period of uneasy calm in which both sides seek stability not out of trust, but out of mutual constraint. We discuss Trump's apparent strategy, the vibe shift in American attitudes, Beijing's choice between managing Trump versus managing uncertainty, the critical importance of Xi's planned April visit, and whether we're headed toward genuine stabilization or just buying time before the next collision.5:24 – Trump's approach: respect for Xi, military deterrence, and the rare earths constraint8:03 – The vibe shift and Trump's “reptilian feel” for American exhaustion with confrontation10:52 – Three scenarios: soft landing, hard split, or uneasy calm through mutual constraint16:30 – Beijing's bet: managing Trump versus managing whoever comes next26:46 – Economic interdependence and why decoupling is like “separating egg whites from a scrambled egg”37:12 – The April visit as a critical test: pageantry, protests, and what both sides are watching for42:18 – Taiwan as the most dangerous variable and where theory meets practice46:58 – Lack of institutional guardrails and the risks of Trump's personalistic foreign policyPaying it forward:Audrye Wong (USC)Recommendations:Ryan: The Conscience of the Party: Hu Yaobang, China's Communist Reformer by Robert SuettingerKaiser: The Last Cavalier (Le Chevalier de Sainte-Hermine) by Alexandre Dumas; Asia Society conversation with Lizzi Lee, Bert Hoffmann, and Gerard DiPippo on rebalancing China's economy; Trivium China Podcast with Andrew Polk, Joe Peissel, Danny McMahon, and Cory Combs on capital expenditure headwindsSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Last time we spoke about the battle of Nanchang. After securing Hainan and targeting Zhejiang–Jiangxi Railway corridors, Japan's 11th Army, backed by armor, air power, and riverine operations, sought a rapid, surgical seizure of Nanchang to sever eastern Chinese logistics and coerce Chongqing. China, reorganizing under Chiang Kai-shek, concentrated over 200,000 troops across 52 divisions in the Ninth and Third War Zones, with Xue Yue commanding the 9th War Zone in defense of Wuhan-Nanchang corridors. The fighting began with German-style, combined-arms river operations along the Xiushui and Gan rivers, including feints, river crossings, and heavy artillery, sometimes using poison gas. From March 20–23, Japanese forces established a beachhead and advanced into Fengxin, Shengmi, and later Nanchang, despite stiff Chinese resistance and bridges being destroyed. Chiang's strategic shift toward attrition pushed for broader offensives to disrupt railways and rear areas, though Chinese plans for a counteroffensive repeatedly stalled due to logistics and coordination issues. By early May, Japanese forces encircled and captured Nanchang, albeit at heavy cost, with Chinese casualties surpassing 43,000 dead and Japanese losses over 2,200 dead.    #187 The Battle of Suixian–Zaoyang-Shatow Welcome to the Fall and Rise of China Podcast, I am your dutiful host Craig Watson. But, before we start I want to also remind you this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Perhaps you want to learn more about the history of Asia? Kings and Generals have an assortment of episodes on history of asia and much more  so go give them a look over on Youtube. So please subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry for some more history related content, over on my channel, the Pacific War Channel where I cover the history of China and Japan from the 19th century until the end of the Pacific War. Having seized Wuhan in a brutal offensive the previous year, the Japanese sought not just to hold their ground but to solidify their grip on this vital hub. Wuhan, a bustling metropolis at the confluence of the Yangtze and Han Rivers, had become a linchpin in their strategy, a base from which they could project power across central China. Yet, the city was far from secure, Chinese troops in northern Hubei and southern Henan, perched above the mighty Yangtze, posed an unrelenting threat. To relieve the mounting pressure on their newfound stronghold, the Japanese high command orchestrated a bold offensive against the towns of Suixian and Zaoyang. They aimed to annihilate the main force of the Chinese 5th War Zone, a move that would crush the Nationalist resistance in the region and secure their flanks. This theater of war, freshly designated as the 5th War Zone after the grueling Battle of Wuhan, encompassed a vast expanse west of Shashi in the upper Yangtze basin. It stretched across northern Hubei, southern Henan, and the rugged Dabie Mountains in eastern Anhui, forming a strategic bulwark that guarded the eastern approaches to Sichuan, the very heartland of the Nationalist government's central institutions. Historian Rana Mitter in Forgotten Ally described this zone as "a gateway of immense importance, a natural fortress that could either serve as a launchpad for offensives against Japanese-held territories or a defensive redoubt protecting the rear areas of Sichuan and Shaanxi". The terrain itself was a defender's dream and an attacker's nightmare: to the east rose the imposing Dabie Mountains, their peaks cloaked in mist and folklore; the Tongbai Mountains sliced across the north like a jagged spine; the Jing Mountains guarded the west; the Yangtze River snaked southward, its waters a formidable barrier; the Dahong Mountains dominated the center, offering hidden valleys for ambushes; and the Han River (also known as the Xiang River) carved a north-south path through it all. Two critical transport arteries—the Hanyi Road linking Hankou to Yichang in Hubei, and the Xianghua Road connecting Xiangyang to Huayuan near Hankou—crisscrossed this landscape, integrating the war zone into a web of mobility. From here, Chinese forces could menace the vital Pinghan Railway, that iron lifeline running from Beiping (modern Beijing) to Hankou, while also threatening the Wuhan region itself. In retreat, it provided a sanctuary to shield the Nationalist heartlands. As military strategist Sun Tzu might have appreciated, this area had long been a magnet for generals, its contours shaping the fates of empires since ancient times. Despite the 5th War Zone's intricate troop deployments, marked by units of varying combat prowess and a glaring shortage of heavy weapons, the Chinese forces made masterful use of the terrain to harass their invaders. Drawing from accounts in Li Zongren's memoirs, he noted how these defenders, often outgunned but never outmaneuvered, turned hills into fortresses and rivers into moats. In early April 1939, as spring rains turned paths to mud, Chinese troops ramped up their disruptions along the southern stretches of the Pinghan Railway, striking from both eastern and western flanks with guerrilla precision. What truly rattled the Japanese garrison in Wuhan was the arrival of reinforcements: six full divisions redeployed to Zaoyang, bolstering the Chinese capacity to launch flanking assaults that could unravel Japanese supply lines. Alarmed by this buildup, the Japanese 11th Army, ensconced in the Wuhan area under the command of General Yasuji Okamura, a figure whose tactical acumen would later earn him notoriety in the Pacific War, devised a daring plan. They intended to plunge deep into the 5th War Zone, smashing the core of the Chinese forces and rendering them impotent, thereby neutralizing the northwestern threat to Wuhan once and for all. From April onward, the Japanese mobilized with meticulous preparation, amassing troops equipped with formidable artillery, rumbling tanks, and squadrons of aircraft that darkened the skies. Historians estimate they committed roughly three and a half divisions to this endeavor, as detailed in Edward J. Drea's In the Service of the Emperor: Essays on the Imperial Japanese Army. Employing a classic pincer movement, a two-flank encirclement coupled with a central breakthrough, they aimed for a swift, decisive strike to obliterate the main Chinese force in the narrow Suixian-Zaoyang corridor, squeezed between the Tongbai and Dahong Mountains. The offensive erupted in full fury on May 1, 1939, as Japanese columns surged forward like a tidal wave, their engines roaring and banners fluttering in the dust-choked air. General Li Zongren, the commander of the 5th War Zone, a man whose leadership had already shone in earlier campaigns like the defense of Tai'erzhuang in 1938, issued urgent orders to cease offensive actions against the Japanese and pivot to a defensive stance. Based on intelligence about the enemy's dispositions, Li orchestrated a comprehensive campaign structure, assigning precise defensive roles and battle plans to each unit. This was no haphazard scramble; it was a symphony of strategy, as Li himself recounted in his memoirs, emphasizing the need to exploit the terrain's natural advantages. While various Chinese war zones executed the "April Offensive" from late April to mid-May, actively harrying and containing Japanese forces, the 5th War Zone focused its energies on the southern segment of the Pinghan Railway, assaulting it from both sides in a bid to disrupt logistics. The main force of the 31st Army Group, under the command of Tang Enbo, a general known for his aggressive tactics and later criticized for corruption, shifted from elsewhere in Hubei to Zaoyang, fortifying the zone and posing a dire threat to the Japanese flanks and rear areas. To counter this peril and safeguard transportation along the Wuhan-Pinghan Railway, the Japanese, led by the formidable Okamura, unleashed their assault from the line stretching through Xinyang, Yingshan, and Zhongxiang. Mobilizing the 3rd, 13th, and 16th Divisions alongside the 2nd and 4th Cavalry Brigades, they charged toward the Suixian-Zaoyang region in western Hubei, intent on eradicating the Chinese main force and alleviating the siege-like pressure on Wuhan. In a masterful reorganization, Li Zongren divided his forces into two army groups, the left and right, plus a dedicated river defense army. His strategy was a blend of attrition and opportunism: harnessing the Tongbai and Dahong Mountains, clinging to key towns like lifelines, and grinding down the Japanese through prolonged warfare while biding time for a counterstroke. This approach echoed the Fabian tactics of ancient Rome, wearing the enemy thin before delivering the coup de grâce. The storm broke at dawn on May 1, when the main contingents of the Japanese 16th and 13th Divisions, bolstered by the 4th Cavalry Brigade from their bases in Zhongxiang and Jingshan, hurled themselves against the Chinese 37th and 180th Divisions of the Right Army Group. Supported by droning aircraft that strafed from above and tanks that churned the earth below, the Japanese advanced with mechanical precision. By May 4, they had shattered the defensive lines flanking Changshoudian, then surged along the east bank of the Xiang River toward Zaoyang in a massive offensive. Fierce combat raged through May 5, as described in Japanese war diaries compiled in Senshi Sōsho (the official Japanese war history series), where soldiers recounted the relentless Chinese resistance amid the smoke and clamor. The Japanese finally breached the defenses, turning their fury on the 122nd Division of the 41st Army. In a heroic stand, the 180th Division clung to Changshoudian, providing cover for the main force's retreat along the east-west Huangqi'an line. The 37th Division fell back to the Yaojiahe line, while elements of the 38th Division repositioned into Liushuigou. On May 6, the Japanese seized Changshoudian, punched through Huangqi'an, and drove northward, unleashing a devastating assault on the 122nd Division's positions near Wenjiamiao. Undeterred, Chinese defenders executed daring flanking maneuvers in the Fenglehe, Yaojiahe, Liushuihe, Shuanghe, and Zhangjiaji areas, turning the landscape into a labyrinth of ambushes. May 7 saw the Japanese pressing on, capturing Zhangjiaji and Shuanghe. By May 8, they assaulted Maozifan and Xinji, where ferocious battles erupted, soldiers clashing in hand-to-hand combat amid the ruins. By May 10, the Japanese had overrun Huyang Town and Xinye, advancing toward Tanghe and the northeastern fringes of Zaoyang. Yet, the Tanghe River front witnessed partial Chinese recoveries: remnants of the Right Army Group, alongside troops from east of the Xianghe, reclaimed Xinye. The 122nd and 180th Divisions withdrew north of Tanghe and Fancheng, while the 37th, 38th, and 132nd Divisions steadfastly held the east bank of the Xianghe River. Concurrently, the main force of the Japanese 3rd Division launched from Yingshan against the 84th and 13th Armies of the 11th Group Army in the Suixian sector. After a whirlwind of combat, the Chinese 84th Army retreated to the Taerwan position. On May 2, the 3rd Division targeted the Gaocheng position of the 13th Army within the 31st Group Army; the ensuing clashes in Taerwan and Gaocheng were a maelstrom of fire, with the Taerwan position exchanging hands multiple times like a deadly game of tug-of-war. By May 4, in a grim escalation, Japanese forces deployed poison gas, a violation of international norms that drew condemnation and is documented in Allied reports from the era, inflicting horrific casualties and compelling the Chinese to relinquish Gaocheng, which fell into enemy hands. On May 5, backed by aerial bombardments, tank charges, and artillery barrages, the Japanese renewed their onslaught along the Gaocheng River and the Lishan-Jiangjiahe line. By May 6, the beleaguered Chinese were forced back to the Tianhekou and Gaocheng line. Suixian succumbed on May 7. On May 8, the Japanese shattered the second line of the 84th Army, capturing Zaoyang and advancing on the Jiangtoudian position of the 85th Army. To evade encirclement, the defenders mounted a valiant resistance before withdrawing from Jiangtoudian; the 84th Army relocated to the Tanghe and Baihe areas, while the 39th Army embedded itself in the Dahongshan for guerrilla operations—a tactic that would bleed the Japanese through hit-and-run warfare, as noted in guerrilla warfare studies by Mao Zedong himself. By May 10, the bulk of the 31st Army Group maneuvered toward Tanghe, reaching north of Biyang by May 15. From Xinyang, Japanese forces struck at Tongbai on May 8; by May 10, elements from Zaoyang advanced to Zhangdian Town and Shangtun Town. In response, the 68th Army of the 1st War Zone dispatched the 143rd Division to defend Queshan and Minggang, and the 119th Division to hold Tongbai. After staunchly blocking the Japanese, they withdrew on May 11 to positions northwest and southwest of Tongbai, shielding the retreat of 5th War Zone units. The Japanese 4th Cavalry Brigade drove toward Tanghe, seizing Tanghe County on May 12. But the tide was turning. In a brilliant reversal, the Fifth War Zone commanded the 31st Army Group, in concert with the 2nd Army Group from the 1st War Zone, to advance from southwestern Henan. Their mission: encircle the bulk of Japanese forces on the Xiangdong Plain and deliver a crushing blow. The main force of the 33rd Army Group targeted Zaoyang, while other units pinned down Japanese rear guards in Zhongxiang. The Chinese counteroffensive erupted with swift successes, Tanghe County was recaptured on May 14, and Tongbai liberated on May 16, shattering the Japanese encirclement scheme. On May 19, after four grueling days of combat, Chinese forces mauled the retreating Japanese, reclaiming Zaoyang and leaving the fields strewn with enemy dead. The 39th Army of the Left Army Group dispersed into the mountains for guerrilla warfare, a shadowy campaign of sabotage and surprise. Forces of the Right Army Group east of the river, along with river defense units, conducted relentless raids on Japanese rears and supply lines over multiple days, sowing chaos before withdrawing to the west bank of the Xiang River on May 21. On May 22, they pressed toward Suixian, recapturing it on May 23. The Japanese, battered and depleted, retreated to their original garrisons in Zhongxiang and Yingshan, restoring the pre-war lines as the battle drew to a close. Throughout this clash, the Chinese held a marked superiority in manpower and coordination, though their deployments lacked full flexibility, briefly placing them on the defensive. After protracted, blood-soaked fighting, they restored the original equilibrium. Despite grievous losses, the Chinese thwarted the Japanese encirclement and exacted a heavy toll, reports from the time, corroborated by Japanese records in Senshi Sōsho, indicate over 13,000 Japanese killed or wounded, with more than 5,000 corpses abandoned on the battlefield. This fulfilled the strategic goal of containing and eroding Japanese strength. Chinese casualties surpassed 25,000, a testament to the ferocity of the struggle. The 5th War Zone seized the initiative in advances and retreats, deftly shifting to outer lines and maintaining positional advantages. As Japanese forces withdrew, Chinese pursuers harried and obstructed them, yielding substantial victories. The Battle of Suizao spanned less than three weeks. The Japanese main force pierced defenses on the east bank of the Han River, advancing to encircle one flank as planned. However, the other two formations met fierce opposition near Suixian and northward, stalling their progress. Adapting to the battlefield's ebb and flow, the Fifth War Zone transformed its tactics: the main force escaped encirclement, maneuvered to outer lines for offensives, and exploited terrain to hammer the Japanese. The pivotal order to flip from defense to offense doomed the encirclement; with the counterattack triumphant, the Japanese declined to hold and retreated. The Chinese pursued with unyielding vigor. By May 24, they had reclaimed Zaoyang, Tongbai, and other locales. Save for Suixian County, the Japanese had fallen back to pre-war positions, reinstating the regional status quo. Thus, the battle concluded, a chapter of resilience etched into the chronicles of China's defiance. In the sweltering heat of southern China, where the humid air clung to every breath like a persistent fog, the Japanese General Staff basked in what they called a triumphant offensive and defensive campaign in Guangdong. But victory, as history so often teaches, is a double-edged sword. By early 1939, the strain was palpable. Their secret supply line snaking from the British colony of Hong Kong to the Chinese mainland was under constant disruption, raids by shadowy guerrilla bands, opportunistic smugglers, and the sheer unpredictability of wartime logistics turning what should have been a lifeline into a leaky sieve. Blockading the entire coastline? A pipe dream, given the vast, jagged shores of Guangdong, dotted with hidden coves and fishing villages that had evaded imperial edicts for centuries. Yet, the General Staff's priorities were unyielding, laser-focused on strangling the Nationalist capital of Chongqing through a relentless blockade. This meant the 21st Army, that workhorse of the Japanese invasion force, had to stay in the fight—no rest for the weary. Drawing from historical records like the Senshi Sōsho (War History Series) compiled by Japan's National Institute for Defense Studies, we know that after the 21st Army reported severing what they dubbed the "secret transport line" at Xinhui, a gritty, hard-fought skirmish that left the local landscape scarred with craters and abandoned supply crates, the General Staff circled back to the idea of a full coastal blockade. It was a classic case of military opportunism: staff officers, poring over maps in dimly lit war rooms in Tokyo, suddenly "discovered" Shantou as a major port. Not just any port, mind you, but a bustling hub tied to the heartstrings of Guangdong's overseas Chinese communities. Shantou and nearby Chao'an weren't mere dots on a map; they were the ancestral hometowns of countless Chaoshan people who had ventured abroad to Southeast Asia, sending back remittances that flowed like lifeblood into the region. Historical economic studies, such as those in The Overseas Chinese in the People's Republic of China by Stephen Fitzgerald, highlight how these funds from the Chaoshan diaspora, often funneled through family networks in places like Singapore and Thailand, were substantial, indirectly fueling China's war effort by sustaining local economies and even purchasing arms on the black market. The Chao-Shao Highway, that dusty artery running near Shantou, was pinpointed as a critical vein connecting Hong Kong's ports to the mainland's interior. So, in early June 1939, the die was cast: Army Order No. 310 thundered from headquarters, commanding the 21st Army to seize Shantou. The Chief of the General Staff himself provided the strategic blueprint, a personal touch that underscored the operation's gravity. The Army Department christened the Chaoshan push "Operation Hua," a nod perhaps to the flowery illusions of easy conquest, while instructing the Navy Department to tag along for the ride. In naval parlance, it became "Operation J," a cryptic label that masked the sheer scale unfolding. Under the Headquarters' watchful eye, what started as a modest blockade morphed into a massive amphibious assault, conjured seemingly out of thin air like a magician's trick, but one with deadly props. The 5th Fleet's orders mobilized an impressive lineup: the 9th Squadron for heavy hitting, the 5th Mine Boat Squadron to clear watery hazards, the 12th and 21st Sweeper Squadrons sweeping for mines like diligent janitors of the sea, the 45th Destroyer Squadron adding destroyer muscle, and air power from the 3rd Combined Air Group (boasting 24 land-based attack aircraft and 9 reconnaissance planes that could spot a fishing boat from miles away). Then there was the Chiyoda Air Group with its 9 reconnaissance aircraft, the Guangdong Air Group contributing a quirky airship and one more recon plane, the 9th Special Landing Squadron from Sasebo trained for beach assaults, and a flotilla of special ships for logistics. On the ground, the 21st Army threw in the 132nd Brigade from the 104th Division, beefed up with the 76th Infantry Battalion, two mountain artillery battalions for lobbing shells over rugged terrain, two engineer battalions to bridge rivers and clear paths, a light armored vehicle platoon rumbling with mechanized menace, and a river-crossing supplies company to keep the troops fed and armed. All under the command of Brigade Commander Juro Goto, a stern officer whose tactical acumen was forged in earlier Manchurian campaigns. The convoy's size demanded rehearsals; the 132nd Brigade trained for boat transfers at Magong in the Penghu Islands, practicing the precarious dance of loading men and gear onto rocking vessels under simulated fire. Secrecy shrouded the whole affair, many officers and soldiers, boarding ships in the dead of night, whispered among themselves that they were finally heading home to Japan, a cruel ruse to maintain operational security. For extra punch, the 21st Army tacked on the 31st Air Squadron for air support, their planes droning like angry hornets ready to sting. This overkill didn't sit well with everyone. Lieutenant General Ando Rikichi, the pragmatic commander overseeing Japanese forces in the region, must have fumed in his Guangzhou headquarters. His intelligence staff, drawing from intercepted radio chatter and local spies as noted in postwar analyses like The Japanese Army in World War II by Gordon L. Rottman, reported that the Chongqing forces in Chaozhou were laughably thin: just the 9th Independent Brigade, a couple of security regiments, and ragtag "self-defense groups" of armed civilians. Why unleash such a sledgehammer on a fly? The mobilization's magnitude even forced a reshuffling of defenses around Guangzhou, pulling resources from the 12th Army's front lines and overburdening the already stretched 18th Division. It was bureaucratic overreach at its finest, a testament to the Imperial Staff's penchant for grand gestures over tactical efficiency. Meanwhile, on the Nationalist side, the winds of war carried whispers of impending doom. The National Revolutionary Army's war histories, such as those compiled in the Zhongguo Kangri Zhanzheng Shi (History of China's War of Resistance Against Japan), note that Chiang Kai-shek's Military Commission had snagged intelligence as early as February 1939 about Japan's plans for a large-scale invasion of Shantou. The efficiency of the Military Command's Second Bureau and the Military Intelligence Bureau was nothing short of astonishing, networks of agents, double agents, and radio intercepts piercing the veil of Japanese secrecy. Even as the convoy slipped out of Penghu, a detailed report outlining operational orders landed on Commander Zhang Fakui's desk, the ink still fresh. Zhang, a battle-hardened strategist whose career spanned the Northern Expedition and beyond , had four months to prepare for what would be dubbed the decisive battle of Chaoshan. Yet, in a move that baffled some contemporaries, he chose not to fortify and defend it tooth and nail. After the Fourth War Zone submitted its opinions, likely heated debates in smoke-filled command posts, Chiang Kai-shek greenlit the plan. By March, the Military Commission issued its strategic policy: when the enemy hit Chaoshan, a sliver of regular troops would team up with civilian armed forces for mobile and guerrilla warfare, grinding down the invaders like sandpaper on steel. The orders specified guerrilla zones in Chaozhou, Jiaxing, and Huizhou, unifying local militias under a banner of "extensive guerrilla warfare" to coordinate with regular army maneuvers, gradually eroding the Japanese thrust. In essence, the 4th War Zone wasn't tasked with holding Chao'an and Shantou at all costs; instead, they'd strike hard during the landing, then let guerrillas harry the occupiers post-capture. It was a doctrine of attrition in a "confined battlefield," honing skills through maneuver and ambush. Remarkably, the fall of these cities was preordained by the Military Commission three months before the Japanese even issued their orders, a strategic feint that echoed ancient Sun Tzu tactics of yielding ground to preserve strength. To execute this, the 4th War Zone birthed the Chao-Jia-Hui Guerrilla Command after meticulous preparation, with General Zou Hong, head of Guangdong's Security Bureau and a no-nonsense administrator known for his anti-smuggling campaigns, taking the helm. In just three months, Zhang Fakui scraped together the Independent 9th Brigade, the 2nd, 4th, and 5th Guangdong Provincial Security Regiments, and the Security Training Regiment. Even with the 9th Army Group lurking nearby, he handed the reins of the Chao-Shan operation to the 12th Army Group's planners. Their March guidelines sketched three lines of resistance from the coast to the mountains, a staged withdrawal that allowed frontline defenders to melt away like ghosts. This blueprint mirrored Chiang Kai-shek's post-Wuhan reassessment, where the loss of that key city in 1938 prompted a shift to protracted warfare. A Xinhua News Agency columnist later summed it up scathingly: "The Chongqing government, having lost its will to resist, colludes with the Japanese and seeks to eliminate the Communists, adopting a policy of passive resistance." This narrative, propagated by Communist sources, dogged Chiang and the National Revolutionary Army for decades, painting them as defeatists even as they bled the Japanese dry through attrition. February 1939 saw Commander Zhang kicking off a reorganization of the 12th Army Group, transforming it from a patchwork force into something resembling a modern army. He could have hunkered down, assigning troops to a desperate defense of Chaoshan, but that would have handed the initiative to the overcautious Japanese General Staff, whose activism often bordered on paranoia. Zhang, with the wisdom of a seasoned general who had navigated the treacherous politics of pre-war China, weighed the scales carefully. His vision? Forge the 12th Army Group into a nimble field army, not squander tens of thousands on a secondary port. Japan's naval and air dominance—evident in the devastation of Shanghai in 1937, meant Guangdong's forces could be pulverized in Shantou just as easily. Losing Chaozhou and Shantou? Acceptable, if it preserved core strength for the long haul. Post-Xinhui, Zhang doubled down on resistance, channeling efforts into live-fire exercises for the 12th Army, turning green recruits into battle-ready soldiers amid the Guangdong hills. The war's trajectory after 1939 would vindicate him: his forces became pivotal in later counteroffensives, proving that a living army trumped dead cities. Opting out of a static defense, Zhang pivoted to guerrilla warfare to bleed the Japanese while clutching strategic initiative. He ordered local governments to whip up coastal guerrilla forces from Chao'an to Huizhou—melding militias, national guards, police, and private armed groups into official folds. These weren't elite shock troops, but in wartime's chaos, they controlled locales effectively, disrupting supply lines and gathering intel. For surprises, he unleashed two mobile units: the 9th Independent Brigade and the 20th Independent Brigade. Formed fresh after the War of Resistance erupted, these brigades shone for their efficiency within the cumbersome Guangdong Army structure. Division-level units were too bulky for spotty communications, so Yu Hanmou's command birthed these independent outfits, staffed with crack officers. The 9th, packing direct-fire artillery for punch, and the 20th, dubbed semi-mechanized for its truck-borne speed, prowled the Chaoshan–Huizhou coast from 1939. Zhang retained their three-regiment setup, naming Hua Zhenzhong and Zhang Shou as commanders, granting them autonomy to command in the field like roving wolves. As the 9th Independent Brigade shifted to Shantou, its 627th Regiment was still reorganizing in Heyuan, a logistical hiccup amid the scramble. Hua Zhenzhong, a commander noted for his tactical flexibility in regional annals, deployed the 625th Regiment and 5th Security Regiment along the coast, with the 626th as reserve in Chao'an. Though the Fourth War Zone had written off Chaoshan, Zhang yearned to showcase Guangdong grit before the pullback. Dawn broke on June 21, 1939, at 4:30 a.m., with Japanese reconnaissance planes slicing through the fog over Shantou, Anbu, and Nanbeigang, ghostly silhouettes against the gray sky. By 5:30, the mist lifted, revealing a nightmare armada: over 40 destroyers and 70–80 landing craft churning toward the coast on multiple vectors, their hulls cutting the waves like knives. The 626th Regiment's 3rd Battalion at Donghushan met the first wave with a hail of fire from six light machine guns, repelling the initial boats in a frenzy of splashes and shouts. But the brigade's long-range guns couldn't stem the tide; Hua focused on key chokepoints, aiming to bloody the invaders rather than obliterate them. By morning, the 3rd Battalion of the 625th Regiment charged into Shantou City, joined by the local police corps digging in amid urban sprawl. Combat raged at Xinjin Port and the airport's fringes, where Nationalist troops traded shots with advancing Japanese under the absent shadow of a Chinese navy. Japanese naval guns, massed offshore, pounded the outskirts like thunder gods in fury. By 2:00 a.m. on the 22nd, Shantou crumpled as defenders' ammo ran dry, the city falling in a haze of smoke and echoes. Before the loss, Hua had positioned the 1st Battalion of the 5th Security Regiment at Anbu, guarding the road to Chao'an. Local lore, preserved in oral histories collected by the Chaozhou Historical Society, recalls Battalion Commander Du Ruo leading from the front, rifle in hand, but Japanese barrages, bolstered by superior firepower—forced a retreat. Post-capture, Tokyo's forces paused to consolidate, unleashing massacres on fleeing civilians in the outskirts. A flotilla of civilian boats, intercepted at sea, became a grim training ground for bayonet drills, a barbarity echoed in survivor testimonies compiled in The Rape of Nanking and Beyond extensions to Guangdong atrocities. With Shantou gone, Hua pivoted to flank defense, orchestrating night raids on Japanese positions around Anbu and Meixi. On June 24th, Major Du Ruo spearheaded an assault into Anbu but fell gravely wounded amid the chaos. Later, the 2nd Battalion of the 626th overran spots near Meixi. A Japanese sea-flanking maneuver targeted Anbu, but Nationalists held at Liulong, sparking nocturnal clashes, grenade volleys, bayonet charges, and hand-to-hand brawls that drained both sides like a slow bleed. June 26th saw the 132nd Brigade lumber toward Chao'an. Hua weighed options: all-out assault or guerrilla fade? He chose to dig in on the outskirts, reserving two companies of the 625th and a special ops battalion in the city. The 27th brought a day-long Japanese onslaught, culminating in Chao'an's fall after fierce rear-guard actions by the 9th Independent Brigade. Evacuations preceded the collapse, with Japanese propaganda banners fluttering falsely, claiming Nationalists had abandoned defense. Yet Hua's call preserved his brigade for future fights; the Japanese claimed an empty prize. I would like to take this time to remind you all that this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Please go subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry after that, give my personal channel a look over at The Pacific War Channel at Youtube, it would mean a lot to me. The Japanese operations had yet again plugged up supply leaks into Nationalist China. The fall of Suixian, Zaoyang and Shantou were heavy losses for the Chinese war effort. However the Chinese were also able to exact heavy casualties on the invaders and thwarted their encirclement attempts. China was still in the fight for her life.

This week on Sinica, I speak with Afra Wang, a writer working between London and the Bay Area, currently a fellow with Gov.AI. We're talking today about her recent WIRED piece on what might be China's most influential science fiction project you've never heard of: The Morning Star of Lingao (Língáo Qǐmíng 临高启明), a sprawling, crowdsourced novel about time travelers who bootstrap an industrial revolution in Ming Dynasty Hainan. More than a thought experiment in alternate history, it's the ur-text of China's "Industrial Party" (gōngyè dǎng 工业党) — the loose intellectual movement that sees engineering capability as the true source of national power. We discuss what the novel reveals about how China thinks about failure, modernity, and salvation, and why, just as Americans are waking up to China's industrial might, the worldview that helped produce it may already be losing its grip.5:27 – Being a cultural in-betweener: code-switching across moral and epistemic registers 10:25 – Double consciousness and converging aesthetic standards 12:05 – "The greatest Chinese science fiction" — an ironic title for a poorly written cult classic 14:18 – Bridging STEM and humanities: the KPI-coded language of tech optimization 16:08 – China's post-Industrial Party moment: from "try hard" to "lie flat" 17:01 – How widely known is Lingao? A cult Bible for China's techno-elite 19:11 – From crypto bros to DAO experiments: how Afra discovered the novel 21:25 – The canonical timeline: compiling chaos into collaborative fiction 23:06 – Guancha.cn (guānchá zhě wǎng 观察者网) and the Industrial Party's media ecosystem 26:05 – The Sentimental Party (Qínghuái Dǎng 情怀党): China's lost civic space 29:01 – The Wenzhou high-speed rail crash: the debate that defined the Industrial Party 33:19 – Controlled spoilers: colonizing Australia, the Maid Revolution, and tech trees 41:06 – Competence as salvation: obsessive attention to getting the details right 44:18 – The Needham question and the joy of transformation: from Robinson Crusoe to Primitive Technology 47:25 – "Never again": inherited historical vulnerability and the memory of chaos 49:20 – Wang Xiaodong, "China Is Unhappy," and the crystallization of Industrial Party ideology 51:33 – Gender and Lingao: a pre-feminist artifact and the rational case for equality 56:16 – Dan Wang's Breakneck and the "engineering state" framework 59:25 – New Quality Productive Forces (xīn zhì shēngchǎnlì 新质生产力): Industrial Party logic in CCP policy 1:03:43 – The reckoning: why Industrial Party intellectuals are losing their innocence 1:07:49 – What Lingao tells us about China today: the invisible infrastructure beneath the hot showerPaying it forward: The volunteer translators of The Morning Star of Lingao (English translation and GitHub resources)Xīn Xīn Rén Lèi / Pixel Perfect podcast (https://pixelperfect.typlog.io/) and the Bǎihuā (百花) podcasting community Recommendations:Afra: China Through European Eyes: 800 Years of Cultural and Intellectual Encounter, edited by Kerry Brown; The Wall Dancers: Searching for Freedom and Connection on the Chinese Internet by Yi-Ling Liu Kaiser: Destiny Disrupted: A History of the World Through Islamic Eyes by Tamim AnsarySee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

This week on Sinica, I speak with Jia Ruixue and Li Hongbin, coauthors of The Highest Exam: How the Gaokao Shapes China. We're talking about China's college entrance exam — dreaded and feared, with outsized ability to determine life outcomes, seen as deeply flawed yet also sacrosanct, something few Chinese want drastically altered or removed. Cards on table: I had very strong preconceptions about the gaokao. My wife and I planned our children's education to get them out of the Chinese system before it became increasingly oriented toward gaokao preparation. But this book really opened my eyes. Ruixue is professor of economics at UC San Diego's School of Global Policy and Strategy, researching how institutions like examination systems shape governance, elite selection, and state capacity. Hongbin is James Liang Chair at Stanford, focusing on education, labor markets, and institutional foundations of China's economic development. We explore why the gaokao represents far more than just a difficult test, the concrete incentives families face, why there are limited alternative routes for social mobility, how both authors' own experiences shaped their thinking, why exam-based elite selection has been so durable in China, what happened when the exam system was suspended during the Cultural Revolution, why inequality has increased despite internet access to materials, why meaningful reform is so politically difficult, how education translated into productivity and GDP growth, the gap between skill formation and economic returns, how the system shapes governance and everyday life, and the moral dimensions of exam culture when Chinese families migrate to very different education systems like the U.S.6:18 – What the gaokao actually represents beyond just being a difficult exam 11:54 – Why there are limited alternative pathways for social mobility 14:23 – How their own experiences as students shaped their thinking 18:46 – Why the gaokao is a political institution, not just educational policy 22:21 – Why exam-based elite selection has been so durable in China 28:30 – What happened in late Qing and Cultural Revolution when exams were suspended 33:26 – Has internet access to materials reduced inequality or has it persisted? 36:55 – Hongbin's direct experience trying to reform the gaokao—and why it failed 40:28 – How education improvement accounts for significant share of China's GDP growth 42:44 – The gap: college doesn't add measurable skills, but gaokao scores predict income 46:56 – How centralized approach affects talent allocation across fields 51:08 – The gaokao and GDP tournament for officials: similar tournament systems 54:26 – How ranking and evaluation systems shape workplace behavior and culture 58:12 – When exam culture meets U.S. education: understanding tensions around affirmative action 1:02:10 – Transparent rule-based evaluation vs. discretion and judgment: the fundamental tradeoffRecommendations: Ruixue: Piao Liang Peng You (film by Geng Jun); Stoner (a novel by John Williams) Hongbin: The Dictator's HandbookKaiser: Furious Minds: The Making of the MAGA New Right by Laura K. Field; Black Pill by Elle ReeveSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Last time we spoke about the climax of the battle of Lake Khasan. In August, the Lake Khasan region became a tense theater of combat as Soviet and Japanese forces clashed around Changkufeng and Hill 52. The Soviets pushed a multi-front offensive, bolstered by artillery, tanks, and air power, yet the Japanese defenders held firm, aided by engineers, machine guns, and heavy guns. By the ninth and tenth, a stubborn Japanese resilience kept Hill 52 and Changkufeng in Japanese hands, though the price was steep and the field was littered with the costs of battle. Diplomatically, both sides aimed to confine the fighting and avoid a larger war. Negotiations trudged on, culminating in a tentative cease-fire draft for August eleventh: a halt to hostilities, positions to be held as of midnight on the tenth, and the creation of a border-demarcation commission. Moscow pressed for a neutral umpire; Tokyo resisted, accepting a Japanese participant but rejecting a neutral referee. The cease-fire was imperfect, with miscommunications and differing interpretations persisting.    #185 Operation Hainan Welcome to the Fall and Rise of China Podcast, I am your dutiful host Craig Watson. But, before we start I want to also remind you this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Perhaps you want to learn more about the history of Asia? Kings and Generals have an assortment of episodes on history of asia and much more  so go give them a look over on Youtube. So please subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry for some more history related content, over on my channel, the Pacific War Channel where I cover the history of China and Japan from the 19th century until the end of the Pacific War. After what seemed like a lifetime over in the northern border between the USSR and Japan, today we are returning to the Second Sino-Japanese War. Now I thought it might be a bit jarring to dive into it, so let me do a brief summary of where we are at, in the year of 1939. As the calendar turned to 1939, the Second Sino-Japanese War, which had erupted in July 1937 with the Marco Polo Bridge Incident and escalated into full-scale conflict, had evolved into a protracted quagmire for the Empire of Japan. What began as a swift campaign to subjugate the Republic of China under Chiang Kai-shek had, by the close of 1938, transformed into a war of attrition. Japanese forces, under the command of generals like Shunroku Hata and Yasuji Okamura, had achieved stunning territorial gains: the fall of Shanghai in November 1937 after a brutal three-month battle that cost over 200,000 Chinese lives; the infamous capture of Nanjing in December 1937, marked by the Nanjing Massacre where an estimated 300,000 civilians and disarmed soldiers were killed in a six-week orgy of violence; and the sequential occupations of Xuzhou in May 1938, Wuhan in October 1938, and Guangzhou that same month.  These victories secured Japan's control over China's eastern seaboard, major riverine arteries like the Yangtze, and key industrial centers, effectively stripping the Nationalists of much of their economic base. Yet, despite these advances, China refused to capitulate. Chiang's government had retreated inland to the mountainous stronghold of Chongqing in Sichuan province, where it regrouped amid the fog-laden gorges, drawing on the vast human reserves of China's interior and the resilient spirit of its people. By late 1938, Japanese casualties had mounted to approximately 50,000 killed and 200,000 wounded annually, straining the Imperial Japanese Army's resources and exposing the vulnerabilities of overextended supply lines deep into hostile territory. In Tokyo, the corridors of the Imperial General Headquarters and the Army Ministry buzzed with urgent deliberations during the winter of 1938-1939. The initial doctrine of "quick victory" through decisive battles, epitomized by the massive offensives of 1937 and 1938, had proven illusory. Japan's military planners, influenced by the Kwantung Army's experiences in Manchuria and the ongoing stalemate, recognized that China's sheer size, with its 4 million square miles and over 400 million inhabitants, rendered total conquest unfeasible without unacceptable costs. Intelligence reports highlighted the persistence of Chinese guerrilla warfare, particularly in the north where Communist forces under Mao Zedong's Eighth Route Army conducted hit-and-run operations from bases in Shanxi and Shaanxi, sabotaging railways and ambushing convoys. The Japanese response included brutal pacification campaigns, such as the early iterations of what would later formalize as the "Three Alls Policy" (kill all, burn all, loot all), aimed at devastating rural economies and isolating resistance pockets. But these measures only fueled further defiance. By early 1939, a strategic pivot was formalized: away from direct annihilation of Chinese armies toward a policy of economic strangulation. This "blockade and interdiction" approach sought to sever China's lifelines to external aid, choking off the flow of weapons, fuel, and materiel that sustained the Nationalist war effort. As one Japanese staff officer noted in internal memos, the goal was to "starve the dragon in its lair," acknowledging the limits of Japanese manpower, total forces in China numbered around 1 million by 1939, against China's inexhaustible reserves. Central to this new strategy were the three primary overland supply corridors that had emerged as China's backdoors to the world, compensating for the Japanese naval blockade that had sealed off most coastal ports since late 1937. The first and most iconic was the Burma Road, a 717-mile engineering marvel hastily constructed between 1937 and 1938 by over 200,000 Chinese and Burmese laborers under the direction of engineers like Chih-Ping Chen. Stretching from the railhead at Lashio in British Burma (modern Myanmar) through treacherous mountain passes and dense jungles to Kunming in Yunnan province, the road navigated elevations up to 7,000 feet with hundreds of hairpin turns and precarious bridges. By early 1939, it was operational, albeit plagued by monsoonal mudslides, banditry, and mechanical breakdowns of the imported trucks, many Ford and Chevrolet models supplied via British Rangoon. Despite these challenges, it funneled an increasing volume of aid: in 1939 alone, estimates suggest up to 10,000 tons per month of munitions, gasoline, and aircraft parts from Allied sources, including early Lend-Lease precursors from the United States. The road's completion in 1938 had been a direct response to the loss of southern ports, and its vulnerability to aerial interdiction made it a prime target in Japanese planning documents. The second lifeline was the Indochina route, centered on the French-built Yunnan-Vietnam Railway (also known as the Hanoi-Kunming Railway), a 465-mile narrow-gauge line completed in 1910 that linked the port of Haiphong in French Indochina to Kunming via Hanoi and Lao Cai. This colonial artery, supplemented by parallel roads and river transport along the Red River, became China's most efficient supply conduit in 1938-1939, exploiting France's uneasy neutrality. French authorities, under Governor-General Pierre Pasquier and later Georges Catroux, turned a blind eye to transshipments, allowing an average of 15,000 to 20,000 tons monthly in early 1939, far surpassing the Burma Road's initial capacity. Cargoes included Soviet arms rerouted via Vladivostok and American oil, with French complicity driven by anti-Japanese sentiment and profitable tolls. However, Japanese reconnaissance flights from bases in Guangdong noted the vulnerability of bridges and rail yards, leading to initial bombing raids by mid-1939. Diplomatic pressure mounted, with Tokyo issuing protests to Paris, foreshadowing the 1940 closure under Vichy France after the fall of France in Europe. The route's proximity to the South China Sea made it a focal point for Japanese naval strategists, who viewed it as a "leak in the blockade." The third corridor, often overlooked but critical, was the Northwest Highway through Soviet Central Asia and Xinjiang province. This overland network, upgraded between 1937 and 1941 with Soviet assistance, connected the Turkestan-Siberian Railway at Almaty (then Alma-Ata) to Lanzhou in Gansu via Urumqi, utilizing a mix of trucks, camel caravans, and rudimentary roads across the Gobi Desert and Tian Shan mountains. Under the Sino-Soviet Non-Aggression Pact of August 1937 and subsequent aid agreements, Moscow supplied China with over 900 aircraft, 82 tanks, 1,300 artillery pieces, and vast quantities of ammunition and fuel between 1937 and 1941—much of it traversing this route. In 1938-1939, volumes peaked, with Soviet pilots and advisors even establishing air bases in Lanzhou. The highway's construction involved tens of thousands of Chinese laborers, facing harsh winters and logistical hurdles, but it delivered up to 2,000 tons monthly, including entire fighter squadrons like the Polikarpov I-16. Japanese intelligence, aware of this "Red lifeline," planned disruptions but were constrained by the ongoing Nomonhan Incident on the Manchurian-Soviet border in 1939, which diverted resources and highlighted the risks of provoking Moscow. These routes collectively sustained China's resistance, prompting Japan's high command to prioritize their severance. In March 1939, the South China Area Army was established under General Rikichi Andō (later succeeded by Field Marshal Hisaichi Terauchi), headquartered in Guangzhou, with explicit orders to disrupt southern communications. Aerial campaigns intensified, with Mitsubishi G3M "Nell" bombers from Wuhan and Guangzhou targeting Kunming's airfields and the Red River bridges, while diplomatic maneuvers pressured colonial powers: Britain faced demands during the June 1939 Tientsin Crisis to close the Burma Road, and France received ultimatums that culminated in the 1940 occupation of northern Indochina. Yet, direct assaults on Yunnan or Guangxi were deemed too arduous due to rugged terrain and disease risks. Instead, planners eyed peripheral objectives to encircle these arteries. This strategic calculus set the stage for the invasion of Hainan Island, a 13,000-square-mile landmass off Guangdong's southern coast, rich in iron and copper but strategically priceless for its position astride the Indochina route and proximity to Hong Kong. By February 1939, Japanese admirals like Nobutake Kondō of the 5th Fleet advocated seizure to establish air and naval bases, plugging blockade gaps and enabling raids on Haiphong and Kunming, a prelude to broader southern expansion that would echo into the Pacific War. Now after the fall campaign around Canton in autumn 1938, the Japanese 21st Army found itself embedded in a relentless effort to sever the enemy's lifelines. Its primary objective shifted from mere battlefield engagements to tightening the choke points of enemy supply, especially along the Canton–Hankou railway. Recognizing that war materiel continued to flow into the enemy's hands, the Imperial General Headquarters ordered the 21st Army to strike at every other supply route, one by one, until the arteries of logistics were stifled. The 21st Army undertook a series of decisive occupations to disrupt transport and provisioning from multiple directions. To sustain these difficult campaigns, Imperial General Headquarters reinforced the south China command, enabling greater operational depth and endurance. The 21st Army benefited from a series of reinforcements during 1939, which allowed a reorganization of assignments and missions: In late January, the Iida Detachment was reorganized into the Formosa Mixed Brigade and took part in the invasion of Hainan Island.  Hainan, just 15 miles across the Qiongzhou Strait from the mainland, represented a critical "loophole": it lay astride the Gulf of Tonkin, enabling smuggling of arms and materiel from Haiphong to Kunming, and offered potential airfields for bombing raids deep into Yunnan. Japanese interest in Hainan dated to the 1920s, driven by the Taiwan Governor-General's Office, which eyed the island's tropical resources (rubber, iron, copper) and naval potential at ports like Sanya (Samah). Prewar surveys by Japanese firms, such as those documented in Ide Kiwata's Minami Shina no Sangyō to Keizai (1939), highlighted mineral wealth and strategic harbors. The fall of Guangzhou in October 1938 provided the perfect launchpad, but direct invasion was delayed until early 1939 amid debates between the IJA (favoring mainland advances) and IJN (prioritizing naval encirclement). The operation would also heavily align with broader "southward advance" (Nanshin-ron) doctrine foreshadowing invasions of French Indochina (1940) and the Pacific War. On the Chinese side, Hainan was lightly defended as part of Guangdong's "peace preservation" under General Yu Hanmou. Two security regiments, six guard battalions, and a self-defense corps, totaling around 7,000–10,000 poorly equipped troops guarded the island, supplemented by roughly 300 Communist guerrillas under Feng Baiju, who operated independently in the interior. The indigenous Li (Hlai) people in the mountainous south, alienated by Nationalist taxes, provided uneven support but later allied with Communists. The Imperial General Headquarters ordered the 21st Army, in cooperation with the Navy, to occupy and hold strategic points on the island near Haikou-Shih. The 21st Army commander assigned the Formosa Mixed Brigade to carry out this mission. Planning began in late 1938 under the IJN's Fifth Fleet, with IJA support from the 21st Army. The objective: secure northern and southern landing sites to bisect the island, establish air/naval bases, and exploit resources. Vice Admiral Nobutake Kondō, commanding the fleet, emphasized surprise and air superiority. The invasion began under the cover of darkness on February 9, 1939, when Kondō's convoy entered Tsinghai Bay on the northern shore of Hainan and anchored at midnight. Japanese troops swiftly disembarked, encountering minimal initial resistance from the surprised Chinese defenders, and secured a beachhead in the northern zone. At 0300 hours on 10 February, the Formosa Mixed Brigade, operating in close cooperation with naval units, executed a surprise landing at the northeastern point of Tengmai Bay in north Hainan. By 04:30, the right flank reached the main road leading to Fengyingshih, while the left flank reached a position two kilometers south of Tienwei. By 07:00, the right flank unit had overcome light enemy resistance near Yehli and occupied Chiungshan. At that moment there were approximately 1,000 elements of the enemy's 5th Infantry Brigade (militia) at Chiungshan; about half of these troops were destroyed, and the remainder fled into the hills south of Tengmai in a state of disarray. Around 08:30 that same day, the left flank unit advanced to the vicinity of Shuchang and seized Hsiuying Heights. By 12:00, it occupied Haikou, the island's northern port city and administrative center, beginning around noon. Army and navy forces coordinated to mop up remaining pockets of resistance in the northern areas, overwhelming the scattered Chinese security units through superior firepower and organization. No large-scale battles are recorded in primary accounts; instead, the engagements were characterized by rapid advances and localized skirmishes, as the Chinese forces, lacking heavy artillery or air support, could not mount a sustained defense. By the end of the day, Japanese control over the north was consolidating, with Haikou falling under their occupation.Also on 10 February, the Brigade pushed forward to seize Cingang. Wenchang would be taken on the 22nd, followed by Chinglan Port on the 23rd. On February 11, the operation expanded southward when land combat units amphibiously assaulted Samah (now Sanya) at the island's southern tip. This landing allowed them to quickly seize key positions, including the port of Yulin (Yulinkang) and the town of Yai-Hsien (Yaxian, now part of Sanya). With these southern footholds secured, Japanese forces fanned out to subjugate the rest of the island, capturing inland areas and infrastructure with little organized opposition. Meanwhile, the landing party of the South China Navy Expeditionary Force, which had joined with the Army to secure Haikou, began landing on the island's southern shore at dawn on 14 February. They operated under the protection of naval and air units. By the same morning, the landing force had advanced to Sa-Riya and, by 12:00 hours, had captured Yulin Port. Chinese casualties were significant in the brief fighting; from January to May 1939, reports indicate the 11th security regiment alone suffered 8 officers and 162 soldiers killed, 3 officers and 16 wounded, and 5 officers and 68 missing, though figures for other units are unclear. Japanese losses were not publicly detailed but appear to have been light.  When crisis pressed upon them, Nationalist forces withdrew from coastal Haikou, shepherding the last civilians toward the sheltering embrace of the Wuzhi mountain range that bands the central spine of Hainan. From that high ground they sought to endure the storm, praying that the rugged hills might shield their families from the reach of war. Yet the Li country's mountains did not deliver a sanctuary free of conflict. Later in August of 1943, an uprising erupted among the Li,Wang Guoxing, a figure of local authority and stubborn resolve. His rebellion was swiftly crushed; in reprisal, the Nationalists executed a seizure of vengeance that extended far beyond the moment of defeat, claiming seven thousand members of Wang Guoxing's kin in his village. The episode was grim testimony to the brutal calculus of war, where retaliation and fear indelibly etched the landscape of family histories. Against this backdrop, the Communists under Feng Baiju and the native Li communities forged a vigorous guerrilla war against the occupiers. The struggle was not confined to partisan skirmishes alone; it unfolded as a broader contest of survival and resistance. The Japanese response was relentless and punitive, and it fell upon Li communities in western Hainan with particular ferocity, Sanya and Danzhou bore the brunt of violence, as did the many foreign laborers conscripted into service by the occupying power. The toll of these reprisals was stark: among hundreds of thousands of slave laborers pressed into service, tens of thousands perished. Of the 100,000 laborers drawn from Hong Kong, only about 20,000 survived the war's trials, a haunting reminder of the human cost embedded in the occupation. Strategically, the island of Hainan took on a new if coercive purpose. Portions of the island were designated as a naval administrative district, with the Hainan Guard District Headquarters established at Samah, signaling its role as a forward air base and as an operational flank for broader anti-Chiang Kai-shek efforts. In parallel, the island's rich iron and copper resources were exploited to sustain the war economy of the occupiers. The control of certain areas on Hainan provided a base of operations for incursions into Guangdong and French Indochina, while the airbases that dotted the island enabled long-range air raids that threaded routes from French Indochina and Burma into the heart of China. The island thus assumed a grim dual character: a frontier fortress for the occupiers and a ground for the prolonged suffering of its inhabitants. Hainan then served as a launchpad for later incursions into Guangdong and Indochina. Meanwhile after Wuhan's collapse, the Nationalist government's frontline strength remained formidable, even as attrition gnawed at its edges. By the winter of 1938–1939, the front line had swelled to 261 divisions of infantry and cavalry, complemented by 50 independent brigades. Yet the political and military fissures within the Kuomintang suggested fragility beneath the apparent depth of manpower. The most conspicuous rupture came with Wang Jingwei's defection, the vice president and chairman of the National Political Council, who fled to Hanoi on December 18, 1938, leading a procession of more than ten other KMT officials, including Chen Gongbo, Zhou Fohai, Chu Minqi, and Zeng Zhongming. In the harsh arithmetic of war, defections could not erase the country's common resolve to resist Japanese aggression, and the anti-Japanese national united front still served as a powerful instrument, rallying the Chinese populace to "face the national crisis together." Amid this political drama, Japan's strategy moved into a phase that sought to convert battlefield endurance into political consolidation. As early as January 11, 1938, Tokyo had convened an Imperial Conference and issued a framework for handling the China Incident that would shape the theater for years. The "Outline of Army Operations Guidance" and "Continental Order No. 241" designated the occupied territories as strategic assets to be held with minimal expansion beyond essential needs. The instruction mapped an operational zone that compressed action to a corridor between Anqing, Xinyang, Yuezhou, and Nanchang, while the broader line of occupation east of a line tracing West Sunit, Baotou, and the major river basins would be treated as pacified space. This was a doctrine of attrition, patience, and selective pressure—enough to hold ground, deny resources to the Chinese, and await a more opportune political rupture. Yet even as Japan sought political attrition, the war's tactical center of gravity drifted toward consolidation around Wuhan and the pathways that fed the Yangtze. In October 1938, after reducing Wuhan to a fortressed crescent of contested ground, the Japanese General Headquarters acknowledged the imperative to adapt to a protracted war. The new calculus prioritized political strategy alongside military operations: "We should attach importance to the offensive of political strategy, cultivate and strengthen the new regime, and make the National Government decline, which will be effective." If the National Government trembled under coercive pressure, it risked collapse, and if not immediately, then gradually through a staged series of operations. In practice, this meant reinforcing a centralized center while allowing peripheral fronts to be leveraged against Chongqing's grip on the war's moral economy. In the immediate post-Wuhan period, Japan divided its responsibilities and aimed at a standoff that would enable future offensives. The 11th Army Group, stationed in the Wuhan theater, became the spearhead of field attacks on China's interior, occupying a strategic triangle that included Hunan, Jiangxi, and Guangxi, and protecting the rear of southwest China's line of defense. The central objective was not merely to seize territory, but to deny Chinese forces the capacity to maneuver along the critical rail and river corridors that fed the Nanjing–Jiujiang line and the Zhejiang–Jiangxi Railway. Central to this plan was Wuhan's security and the ability to constrain Jiujiang's access to the Yangtze, preserving a corridor for air power and logistics. The pre-war arrangement in early 1939 was a tableau of layered defenses and multiple war zones, designed to anticipate and blunt Japanese maneuver. By February 1939, the Ninth War Zone under Xue Yue stood in a tense standoff with the Japanese 11th Army along the Jiangxi and Hubei front south of the Yangtze. The Ninth War Zone's order of battle, Luo Zhuoying's 19th Army Group defending the northern Nanchang front, Wang Lingji's 30th Army Group near Wuning, Fan Songfu's 8th and 73rd Armies along Henglu, Tang Enbo's 31st Army Group guarding southern Hubei and northern Hunan, and Lu Han's 1st Army Group in reserve near Changsha and Liuyang, was a carefully calibrated attempt to absorb, delay, and disrupt any Xiushui major Japanese thrust toward Nanchang, a city whose strategic significance stretched beyond its own bounds. In the spring of 1939, Nanchang was the one city in southern China that Tokyo could not leave in Chinese hands. It was not simply another provincial capital; it was the beating heart of whatever remained of China's war effort south of the Yangtze, and the Japanese knew it. High above the Gan River, on the flat plains west of Poyang Lake, lay three of the finest airfields China had ever built: Qingyunpu, Daxiaochang, and Xiangtang. Constructed only a few years earlier with Soviet engineers and American loans, they were long, hard-surfaced, and ringed with hangars and fuel dumps. Here the Chinese Air Force had pulled back after the fall of Wuhan, and here the red-starred fighters and bombers of the Soviet volunteer groups still flew. From Nanchang's runways a determined pilot could reach Japanese-held Wuhan in twenty minutes, Guangzhou in less than an hour, and even strike the docks at Hong Kong if he pushed his range. Every week Japanese reconnaissance planes returned with photographs of fresh craters patched, new aircraft parked wing-to-wing, and Soviet pilots sunning themselves beside their I-16s. As long as those fields remained Chinese, Japan could never claim the sky. The city was more than airfields. It sat exactly where the Zhejiang–Jiangxi Railway met the line running north to Jiujiang and the Yangtze, a knot that tied together three provinces. Barges crowded Poyang Lake's western shore, unloading crates of Soviet ammunition and aviation fuel that had come up the river from the Indochina railway. Warehouses along the tracks bulged with shells and rice. To the Japanese staff officers plotting in Wuhan and Guangzhou, Nanchang looked less like a city and more like a loaded spring: if Chiang Kai-shek ever found the strength for a counteroffensive to retake the middle Yangtze, this would be the place from which it would leap. And so, in the cold March of 1939, the Imperial General Headquarters marked Nanchang in red on every map and gave General Okamura the order he had been waiting for: take it, whatever the cost. Capturing the city would do three things at once. It would blind the Chinese Air Force in the south by seizing or destroying the only bases from which it could still seriously operate. It would tear a hole in the last east–west rail line still feeding Free China. And it would shove the Nationalist armies another two hundred kilometers farther into the interior, buying Japan precious time to digest its earlier conquests and tighten the blockade. Above all, Nanchang was the final piece in a great aerial ring Japan was closing around southern China. Hainan had fallen in February, giving the navy its southern airfields. Wuhan and Guangzhou already belonged to the army. Once Nanchang was taken, Japanese aircraft would sit on a continuous arc of bases from the tropical beaches of the South China Sea to the banks of the Yangtze, and nothing (neither the Burma Road convoys nor the French railway from Hanoi) would move without their permission. Chiang Kai-shek's decision to strike first in the Nanchang region in March 1939 reflected both urgency and a desire to seize initiative before Japanese modernization of the battlefield could fully consolidate. On March 8, Chiang directed Xue Yue to prepare a preemptive attack intended to seize the offensive by March 15, focusing the Ninth War Zone's efforts on preventing a river-crossing assault and pinning Japanese forces in place. The plan called for a sequence of coordinated actions: the 19th Army Group to hold the northern front of Nanchang; the Hunan-Hubei-Jiangxi Border Advance Army (the 8th and 73rd Armies) to strike the enemy's left flank from Wuning toward De'an and Ruichang; the 30th and 27th Army Groups to consolidate near Wuning; and the 1st Army Group to push toward Xiushui and Sandu, opening routes for subsequent operations. Yet even as Xue Yue pressed for action, the weather of logistics and training reminded observers that no victory could be taken for granted. By March 9–10, Xue Yue warned Chiang that troops were not adequately trained, supplies were scarce, and preparations were insufficient, requesting a postponement to March 24. Chiang's reply was resolute: the attack must commence no later than the 24th, for the aim was preemption and the desire to tether the enemy's forces before they could consolidate. When the moment of decision arrived, the Chinese army began to tense, and the Japanese, no strangers to rapid shifts in tempo—moved to exploit any hesitation or fog of mobilization. The Ninth War Zone's response crystallized into a defensive posture as the Japanese pressed forward, marking a transition from preemption to standoff as both sides tested the limits of resilience. The Japanese plan for what would become known as Operation Ren, aimed at severing the Zhejiang–Jiangxi Railway, breaking the enemy's line of communication, and isolating Nanchang, reflected a calculated synthesis of air power, armored mobility, and canalized ground offensives. On February 6, 1939, the Central China Expeditionary Army issued a set of precise directives: capture Nanchang to cut the Zhejiang–Jiangxi Railway and disrupt the southern reach of Anhui and Zhejiang provinces; seize Nanchang along the Nanchang–Xunyi axis to split enemy lines and "crush" Chinese resistance south of that zone; secure rear lines immediately after the city's fall; coordinate with naval air support to threaten Chinese logistics and airfields beyond the rear lines. The plan anticipated contingencies by pre-positioning heavy artillery and tanks in formations that could strike with speed and depth, a tactical evolution from previous frontal assaults. Okamura Yasuji, commander of the 11th Army, undertook a comprehensive program of reconnaissance, refining the assault plan with a renewed emphasis on speed and surprise. Aerial reconnaissance underlined the terrain, fortifications, and the disposition of Chinese forces, informing the selection of the Xiushui River crossing and the route of the main axis of attack. Okamura's decision to reorganize artillery and armor into concentrated tank groups, flanked by air support and advanced by long-range maneuver, marked a departure from the earlier method of distributing heavy weapons along the infantry front. Sumita Laishiro commanded the 6th Field Heavy Artillery Brigade, with more than 300 artillery pieces, while Hirokichi Ishii directed a force of 135 tanks and armored vehicles. This blended arms approach promised a breakthrough that would outpace the Chinese defenders and open routes for the main force. By mid-February 1939, Japanese preparations had taken on a high tempo. The 101st and 106th Divisions, along with attached artillery, assembled south of De'an, while tank contingents gathered north of De'an. The 6th Division began moving toward Ruoxi and Wuning, the Inoue Detachment took aim at the waterways of Poyang Lake, and the 16th and 9th Divisions conducted feints on the Han River's left bank. The orchestration of these movements—feints, riverine actions, and armored flanking, was designed to reduce the Chinese capacity to concentrate forces around Nanchang and to force the defenders into a less secure posture along the Nanchang–Jiujiang axis. Japan's southward strategy reframed the war: no longer a sprint to reduce Chinese forces in open fields, but a patient siege of lifelines, railways, and airbases. Hainan's seizure, the control of Nanchang's airfields, and the disruption of the Zhejiang–Jiangxi Railway exemplified a shift from large-scale battles to coercive pressure that sought to cripple Nationalist mobilization and erode Chongqing's capacity to sustain resistance. For China, the spring of 1939 underscored resilience amid mounting attrition. Chiang Kai-shek's insistence on offensive means to seize the initiative demonstrated strategic audacity, even as shortages and uneven training slowed tempo. The Ninth War Zone's defense, bolstered by makeshift airpower from Soviet and Allied lendings, kept open critical corridors and delayed Japan's consolidation. The war's human cost—massive casualties, forced labor, and the Li uprising on Hainan—illuminates the brutality that fueled both sides' resolve. In retrospect, the period around Canton, Wuhan, and Nanchang crystallizes a grim truth: the Sino-Japanese war was less a single crescendo of battles than a protracted contest of endurance, logistics, and political stamina. The early 1940s would widen these fault lines, but the groundwork laid in 1939, competition over supply routes, air control, and strategic rail nodes, would shape the war's pace and, ultimately, its outcome. The conflict's memory lies not only in the clashes' flash but in the stubborn persistence of a nation fighting to outlast a formidable adversary. I would like to take this time to remind you all that this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Please go subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry after that, give my personal channel a look over at The Pacific War Channel at Youtube, it would mean a lot to me. The Japanese invasion of Hainan and proceeding operations to stop logistical leaks into Nationalist China, showcased the complexity and scale of the growing Second Sino-Japanese War. It would not merely be a war of territorial conquest, Japan would have to strangle the colossus using every means necessary.  

The author has been explaining Sichuan cuisine to westerners for decades. But ‘Fu Xia', as she's known, has had a profound effect on food lovers in China, too By Leslie T Chang. Read by Ginnia Cheng. Help support our independent journalism at theguardian.com/longreadpod

This week on Sinica, I speak with Daniel Bessner, the Anne H.H. and Kenneth B. Pyle Assistant Professor in American Foreign Policy at the Henry M. Jackson School of International Studies at the University of Washington and co-host of the American Prestige Podcast. If you follow U.S.-China relations even casually, you can't avoid hearing that we're in a new Cold War — it's become a rhetorical reflex in D.C., shaping budgets, foreign policy debates, media narratives, and how ordinary Americans think about China.But what does it actually mean to call something a Cold War? To think clearly about the present, I find it helps to go to the past, not for simple analogies but to understand the intellectual and ideological machinery that produced and now sustains a Cold War mentality. Danny has written widely about the architecture of American power, the rise of the national security state, and the constellation of thinkers he calls Cold War liberals who helped define the ideological landscape of U.S. foreign policy. We explore how Cold War liberalism reshaped American political life, how the U.S. came to see its global dominance as natural and morally necessary, why the question of whose fault the Cold War was remains urgent in an age of renewed great power rivalry, the rise of China and anxiety of American decline, and what it would take to imagine a U.S.-China relationship that doesn't fall back into old patterns of moral binaries, ideological panic, and militarized competition.6:20 – Danny's background: from Iraq War politicization to studying defense intellectuals11:00 – Cold War liberalism: the constellation of ideas that shaped U.S. foreign policy16:14 – How these ideas became structurally embedded in security institutions22:02 – The Democratic Party's destruction of the genuine left in the late 1940s27:53 – Whose fault was the Cold War? Stalin's sphere of influence logic vs. American universalism31:07 – Are we facing a similar decision with China today?34:23 – The anxiety of loss: how decline anxiety distorts interpretation of China's rise37:54 – The new Cold War narrative: material realities vs. psychological legacies41:21 – Clearest parallels between the first Cold War and emerging U.S.-China confrontation44:33 – What would a pluralistic order in Asia actually look like?47:42 – Coexistence rather than zero-sum rivalry: what does it mean in practice?50:57 – What genuine restraint requires: accepting limits of American power54:14 – The moral imperative pushback: you can't have good empire without bad empire56:35 – Imperialist realism: Americans don't think we're good, but can't imagine another worldPaying it forward: The Quincy Institute for Responsible Statecraft and Responsible Statecraft publication; The Trillion Dollar War Machine by William Hartung and Ben FreemanRecommendations:Danny: Nirvana and the history of Seattle punk/indie music (forthcoming podcast project)Kaiser: Hello China Tech Substack by Poe Zhao (hellotechchina.com)See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

This week on Sinica, in a joint episode with the China-Global South Podcast, I speak with Eric Olander, host of the China Global South Podcast and founder/editor-in-chief of the China-Global South Project. In the early hours of January 3rd, U.S. forces carried out a coordinated operation in Venezuela that resulted in the capture of President Nicolás Maduro and his wife, followed by their rendition to the United States to face drug trafficking charges. The operation unfolded quickly, with minimal kinetic escalation, but has raised far-reaching questions about international law, hemispheric security, and the Trump administration's willingness to use force in the Western Hemisphere. Just before the raid, China's Special Envoy for Latin America, Qiu Xiaoqi, had met with Maduro in Caracas. Commentary linking Trump's action to China has ranged widely—claims about spheres of influence, arguments this was all about oil or rare earths, and pronouncements about what this means for Taiwan. Eric helps us think through China's actual stake in Venezuela, how deeply Beijing understands Latin America, what this episode does and does not change about China's role in the region and the global South more broadly, China's immediate reaction and concrete exposure on the ground, how it manages political risk when partner regimes collapse, and what Chinese military planners may be studying as they assess how this operation unfolded.5:18 – How Beijing is reading this episode: official messaging versus elite thinking 7:40 – The Taiwan comparisons on Chinese social media and why they don't work 11:09 – How deep is China's actual expertise on Latin America? 14:56 – Comparing U.S. and Chinese benches of Latin America expertise 18:02 – Are we back to spheres of influence? Why that framing doesn't work 20:09 – Where is China most exposed in Venezuela: oil, loans, personnel? 23:41 – The resource-for-infrastructure model and why it failed 28:27 – The political assets: China as defender of sovereignty and multilateralism 36:25 – Will this push left-leaning governments closer to Beijing? 40:07 – The "China impotence" narrative and what doing something would actually mean 46:26 – What Chinese military planners are actually studying 51:46 – The Qiu Xiaoqi meeting: strategic failure or intelligence delivery? 58:40 – What actually changes and what doesn't: looking aheadPaying it forward: Alonso Illueca, nonresident fellow for Latin America and the Caribbean at the China Global South ProjectRecommendations: Eric: "China's Long Economic War" by Zongyuan Zoe Liu (Foreign Affairs)Kaiser: The Venetian Heretic by Christian CameronSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

This week on Sinica, recorded at Yale University, I speak with Michael Brenes and Van Jackson, coauthors of The Rivalry Peril: How Great-Power Competition Threatens Peace and Weakens Democracy. Their argument is that framing the U.S.-China relationship as geopolitical rivalry has become more than just a foreign policy orientation — it's a domestic political project that reshapes budgets, norms, and coalitions in ways that actively harm American democracy and the American people. Rivalry narrows political possibility, makes dissent suspect, encourages neo-McCarthyism (the China Initiative, profiling of Chinese Americans), produces anti-AAPI hate, and redirects public investment away from social welfare and into defense spending through what they call "national security Keynesianism."Mike is interim director of the Brady Johnson Program in Grand Strategy at Yale, while Van is a senior lecturer in international relations at Victoria University of Wellington and host of the Un-Diplomatic Podcast. We discuss the genesis of their collaboration during the Biden administration, how they navigate China as a puzzle for the American left, canonical misrememberings of the Cold War that distort current China policy, the security dilemma feedback loop between Washington and Beijing, why defense-heavy stimulus is terrible at job creation, how rivalry politics weakens democracy, recent polling showing a shift toward engagement, and their vision for a "geopolitics of peace" anchored in Sino-U.S. détente 2.0.5:47 – The genesis of the book: recognizing Biden's Cold War liberalism 11:26 – How they approached writing together from different disciplinary homes 13:20 – Navigating China as a puzzle for the American left21:39 – How great power competition hardened from analytical framework into ideology 28:15 – Mike on two canonical misrememberings of the Cold War 33:18 – Van on the security dilemma and the nuclear feedback loop 39:55 – National security Keynesianism: why defense spending is bad at job creation 44:38 – How rivalry politics weakens democracy and securitizes dissent 48:09 – Building durable coalitions for restraint-oriented statecraft 51:27 – Has the post-COVID moral panic actually abated? 53:27 – The master narrative we need: a geopolitics of peace 55:29 – Associative balancing: achieving equilibrium through accommodation, not armsRecommendations:Van: The Long Twentieth Century by Giovanni Arrighi Mike: The World of the Cold War: 1945-1991 by Vladislav Zubok Kaiser: Pluribus (Apple TV series by Vince Gilligan)See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.