Podcasts about Sichuan

This week on Sinica, I sit down with Dr. Ruby Wang, whose new book, China Cure: The Rise of a Biotech, AI Medicine and Global Health Superpower (Agenda Publishing, out October 31, with a foreword by Kerry Brown), is the explanation general readers have been missing for one of the most consequential and least understood transformations in China today. Ruby is a rare creature in this space: a practicing physician in Britain's NHS, trained in surgery, who worked London's hospital wards through the first wave of COVID; the former head of the UK government's health engagement in China at the British Embassy in Beijing; a former health adviser within the UN system; a onetime medical adviser at AliHealth in Hangzhou; and a Schwarzman Scholar. She now runs the strategy consultancy Lintris Health and writes the excellent China Health Pulse newsletter and podcast, both of which I recommend to anyone trying to follow this space.Anyone who spent time in a Chinese hospital in the late ‘80s or ‘90s — the pre-dawn queues, the ticket scalpers, the cashier's window at every step, the IV drips for a head cold — will find the arc of this book hard to believe. Within living memory, China sent barefoot doctors into the countryside with herbal remedies and antibiotics in army-green satchels; last year, Chinese companies signed something like 186 out-licensing deals worth a disclosed $137 billion, roughly half the global total and close to ten times the 2021 figure, with Pfizer, Bristol-Myers Squibb, AstraZeneca, GSK, and Eli Lilly all buying. Since Ruby gave a terrific interview to my friend Kyle Chan on his High Capacity podcast this spring on the apps, data flows, and clinical AI, I deliberately steered elsewhere: to her family — a deckhand grandfather, a father's crooked splint, a grandmother's transnational hunt for Gleevec — to the four reinforcing conditions she argues made the transformation possible, to the “China is fast because China is loose” shortcut and what's actually behind the speed, to BIOSECURE and its successors, to the AI doctor avatars now fielding millions of inquiries a year, and to the burnout and violence that still bedevil the lives of Chinese clinicians.10:31 – Two family stories from 1970s Zhejiang: a deckhand grandfather and a barefoot doctor's crooked splint15:57 – Four reinforcing conditions, part one: demographic pressure and crisis as catalyst (SARS, melamine, fake vaccines)23:42 – The long view: Healthy China 2030 and why China's health ministers are technocrats27:54 – The cultural inheritance: who signs the consent form, and China's health codes vs. Britain's billion-pound app35:26 – Grandma and Gleevec: a family's transnational hunt for a drug in 200340:17 – The reversal: hǎiguī, copycats to first-in-class, and the tenfold surge in out-licensing42:35 – Is China fast because China is loose? Where China leads (oncology, GLP-1s) and where it lags50:22 – BIOSECURE, COINS, and BINSA: who loses when politics meets pharma55:37 – Digital health in three systems, Ant Afu's AI doctor avatars, and whether the silver generation can keep up1:08:44 – “A lifetime of eating bitterness”: Dr. Wang of Guangzhou, burnout, and yī nàoPaying It ForwardYanzhong Huang, senior fellow for global health at the Council on Foreign Relations and professor at Seton Hall — the go-to voice on the geopolitics of China and health, and Ruby's first port of call.Afra Wang, writer of the Concurrent newsletter — Ruby admires how she reads the cultural currents beneath technology, and finds it endlessly useful to take those insights to the health-tech angle.Olivia Plotnick, Shanghai-based founder of Wai Social — on-the-ground work on branding and consumer behavior across some 30 lower-tier Chinese cities, including health and wellness.RecommendationsRuby: Deep China: The Moral Life of the Person, edited by Arthur Kleinman with Yunxiang Yan, Jing Jun, Sing Lee, and others — what being sick reveals about society and culture in China: psychiatry, caregiving, and how patients and families have changed as the country has. Kleinman's The Soul of Care is also worth your time.Kaiser: Augustus by John Williams — the third of his novels I've recommended on the show, and the National Book Award winner: an epistolary novel of imperial Rome told through a crazy quilt of letters and fragments from family, friends like Agrippa, and poets like Virgil and Horace, each given a completely distinct voice. Quiet campus novel, anti-Western, imperial Rome — the range, and the restraint, are astonishing.Also: Ezra Klein's conversation with Carnegie's Matt Sheehan — a masterclass in clarity on AI safety and the U.S.-China relationship, and the best thing to listen to in the wake of Dario Amodei's “Pacing the Frontier” essay.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

For decades, Liu Huan's melodic voice was a familiar soundtrack across China.几十年来，刘欢那充满感染力的歌声伴随着几代中国人的成长。It could fill a stadium, carry a national celebration or rise from the soundtrack of a television drama.他的声音能震撼整个体育场，能承载国家级盛典的庄严，也能在电视剧原声音乐中袅袅回响。Liu, one of China's best-known singer-songwriters and music educators, died in Shanghai on Friday morning at the age of 63.中国著名创作型歌手、音乐教育家刘欢于周五上午在上海逝世，享年 63 岁。The news was announced the following day by the University of International Business and Economics in Beijing, where Liu taught for more than three decades.次日，刘欢任教长达三十余年的对外经济贸易大学发布讣告，宣布了这一消息。Born in Tianjin in 1963, Liu studied French literature at the University of International Relations in Beijing from 1981 to 1985. He joined UIBE in 1991, where he taught Western music history and later became an associate professor. He retired in 2023.刘欢 1963 年出生于天津，1981 年至 1985 年就读于北京国际关系学院法国文学专业。他于 1991 年入职对外经济贸易大学，教授西方音乐史，后晋升为副教授，并于 2023 年退休。His university obituary described him first as a retired teacher and then as a household name in music — a pairing that perhaps best captured the two sides of his life.学校发布的讣告首先将他称为 “退休教师”，其次才是 “家喻户晓的音乐家”—— 这一称谓组合或许最完美地概括了他一生中的两个重要身份。His death has sparked an outpouring of grief and remembrance.他的离世引发了社会各界的沉痛哀悼与深切怀念。On Saturday, singer Na Ying paid tribute to Liu during a concert in Chengdu, Sichuan province, singing Crescent Moon, one of his best-known songs.周六，歌手那英在四川成都举行的演唱会上，通过演唱刘欢的代表作《弯弯的月亮》，表达对刘欢的悼念。“My mentor and friend, Liu Huan, who made an enormous contribution to and helped advance Chinese pop music, has left us,” she told the audience. “I want to sing a song he once performed to pay tribute to him.”“我的良师益友、为中国流行音乐做出卓越贡献并推动其发展的刘欢老师离开了我们，” 她向现场观众表示，“我想唱一首他曾经唱过的歌，向他致敬。”Chinese director Zhang Yimou also mourned Liu through his studio's official Weibo account.中国导演张艺谋也通过其工作室的官方微博表达了哀思。"Upon learning of Liu Huan's passing, I cannot help but feel saddened. You and Me continues to be sung, while its sound and spirit will forever remain at the Bird's Nest," the post said.“惊闻刘欢老师逝世，心中万分悲痛。《我和你》依然在被唱响，音容宛在，精神永存鸟巢，” 微博中写道。Liu performed You and Me, the theme song of the 2008 Beijing Olympics, alongside British soprano Sarah Brightman at the opening ceremony on Aug 8, which was held at Beijing National Stadium, famously known as the Bird's Nest. Composed by Chen Qigang, the song was performed atop a giant globe before a global TV audience and became one of the defining musical moments of the Games.2008 年 8 月 8 日，在国家体育场（鸟巢）举行的北京奥运会开幕式上，刘欢与英国女高音歌唱家莎拉・布莱曼（Sarah Brightman）共同演唱了主题曲《我和你》。这首由陈其钢作曲的歌曲在巨大的地球模型顶端呈现在全球电视观众面前，成为了北京奥运会最具标志性的音乐瞬间之一。Liu first rose to prominence in the 1980s with songs including The Sun in My Heart and Young Aspiration Knows No Sorrow, before becoming closely associated with some of China's most popular TV dramas.20 世纪 80 年代，刘欢凭借《心中的太阳》与《少年壮志不言愁》等歌曲声名鹊起，此后他的歌声与多部中国热门电视剧紧密相连。His rich, resonant voice became particularly recognizable through songs such as Time and Time Again, the theme song of the 1993 hit TV drama show A Native of Beijing in New York, and the Heroes' Song, from the 1998 TV adaptation of the Water Margin.他那雄浑饱满、富有共鸣的嗓音风靡大江南北，其中最为人熟知的当属 1993 年热播电视剧《北京人在纽约》的主题曲《千万次的问》，以及 1998 年电视连续剧《水浒传》的插曲《好汉歌》。His music also became part of some of the country's most significant cultural moments. In 1990, he performed Mighty Winds of Asia with singer Wei Wei for the Beijing Asian Games.他的音乐作品还见证了国家许多重要的文化时刻。1990 年，他与歌手韦唯为北京亚运会合唱了《亚洲雄风》。In 2014, he sang La Vie en Rose with French actress Sophie Marceau at the CCTV Spring Festival Gala. His work for television also included Flying Phoenix, associated with the hit 2011 drama Empresses in the Palace.2014 年，他在中央电视台春节联欢晚会上与法国演员苏菲・玛索（Sophie Marceau）合唱了《玫瑰人生》。他为电视作品创作的经典还包括 2011 年热播大剧《甄嬛传》中的《凤凰于飞》。As a mentor, Liu helped bring a new generation of singers and songwriters to a national audience.作为一名导师，刘欢将新一代创作型歌手推向了全国舞台。In 2012, he accepted the invitation to become a mentor on The Voice of China. Among the young singers he supported was Jike Junyi, an ethnic Yi singer.2012 年，他接受邀请担任《中国好声音》的导师。在受到他悉心栽培的年轻歌手中，就包括彝族歌手吉克隽逸。Fourteen years later, Jike Junyi remembered how Liu Huan's decision to turn his chair toward her, signaling his recognition of her performance and giving her a chance to join his team, changed her life.十四年后，吉克隽逸回忆起刘欢当年为她转身的那一刻 —— 那标志着对他演唱能力的认可，也给予了她加入其团队的机会，从而彻底改变了她的人生轨迹。"Your turning around completely changed the fate of a little girl," she wrote after his death on her Weibo account, which has over 16 million followers. "She stumbled and staggered her way to today. It was you who lifted up the life of a little girl."“您的转身，彻底改变了一个小黑姑娘的命运，” 在他逝世后，吉克隽逸在她拥有超过 1600 万粉丝的微博上写道，“她跌跌撞撞飞到今天，是您托举了一个小女孩的人生。”Liu's commitment to nurturing original music became even clearer in 2014, when he served as a mentor on Sing My Song, a program devoted to original compositions. The show brought then little-known singers, including Zhao Lei and Su Yunying, into stardom.2014 年，刘欢担任专注于原创音乐的节目《中国好歌曲》的导师，他致力于扶持原创音乐的决心得到了更充分的体现。该节目让当时鲜为人知的赵雷、苏运莹等歌手一举成名。In 2019, he established the Liu Huan Original Music Fund, donating 20 million yuan ($2.9 million) of his own money to support young Chinese-language singer-songwriters.2019 年，他设立了 “刘欢原创音乐专项基金”，自掏腰包捐赠 2000 万元人民币（约合 290 万美元），用于资助年轻的华语创作型歌手。On Dec 31, 2025, Liu appeared as the closing act at the Bilibili New Year's Eve Gala in Shanghai — his final major public performance. On a freezing outdoor stage, he sang I Wish to Be Immortal, a song associated with the TV series: Journey to the West Sequel, and Time and Time Again. Despite the biting cold, Liu sang as young people in the audience joined him.2025 年 12 月 31 日，刘欢作为压轴嘉宾亮相上海哔哩哔哩跨年晚会 —— 这也是他生前最后一次大型公开演出。在寒风凛冽的室外舞台上，他演唱了电视剧《西游记后传》的片尾曲《我欲成仙》以及《千万次的问》。尽管酷寒无比，刘欢依然倾情献唱，台下的年轻人也与他一同合唱。obituary /əˈbɪtʃuəri/n. 讣告；逝者生平简介outpouring /ˈaʊtpɔːrɪŋ/n. （感情的）爆发，倾泻；涌现prominence /ˈprɒmɪnəns/n. 显赫；著名；重要地位resonant /ˈrezənənt/adj. 洪亮的；共鸣的；回荡的stumble /ˈstʌmbl/v. 跌跌撞撞地走；绊倒；结巴stagger /ˈstæɡə(r)/v. 摇晃；蹒跚；使震惊stardom /ˈstɑːdəm/n. 明星地位；明星身份biting /ˈbaɪtɪŋ/adj. 刺骨的（寒风 / 冷气）；严厉的；尖刻的

This week I sat down with Gloria Xiong, Assistant Professor of Government at Colby College, and Jessica Chen Weiss, the David M. Lampton Professor of China Studies at Johns Hopkins SAIS, to discuss their new Foreign Affairs essay, "How China Found Its Most Potent Weapon: The Real History of Beijing's Rare Earth Dominance." The story everyone tells is one of foresight — a master plan hatched by Deng Xiaoping and now coming to fruition. Gloria and Jessica argue the reality was far messier: reform-era export mania, environmental catastrophe, defiant local governments, scarcity anxiety, and a lesson in chokepoint weaponization that Beijing learned from Washington. Getting the story wrong, they argue, feeds an action-reaction spiral that neither side started and neither fully controls — and with the Busan truce expiring in November, the stakes could hardly be higher.09:31 — "The Middle East has oil, China has rare earths": what Deng Xiaoping actually said, and how a quote got recruited for a story he wasn't telling12:33 — Why the master plan narrative is so irresistible across the partisan spectrum in Washington15:40 — The cheap and dirty origins: reform-era export mania, thousands of small mines, and rare earths sold "at the price of cabbage and dirt"19:06 — The West as co-author of the chokepoint: offshoring the pollution, and the stockpile that was never built21:53 — Beijing's struggle to control its own industry: quotas, "crime rings," and the partially failed 2002 consolidation25:13 — September 2010: what really happened with the "embargo" against Japan, and why Beijing may have learned about it from Japanese customs28:47 — Fans and fire hoses: how bottom-up nationalism can commit Beijing to coercive postures it didn't choose32:13 — The debate inside China after 2010: protectionists versus Hong Feng's warning against using rare earths as "political chips"35:44 — The 2015 WTO ruling: China complied — was it a rule-taker, or did it simply lack the tools to do anything else?38:06 — Learning from Washington: Huawei, the Export Control Law, the China Rare Earth Group, and what distinguishes learning from planning40:24 — The 2022–2024 ledger: what's the evidence for an action-reaction spiral beyond the timeline?44:25 — April 2025: coercion or bureaucratic pileup? Thirty licensing officials and a 74% collapse in magnet exports47:46 — October 2025: the extraterritorial rule that mirrored the Foreign Direct Product Rule, and the Busan truce52:32 — The countdown to November: hawks in both capitals, "mutually assured disruption," and Xi's coming state visit55:29 — The limits of leverage on both sides: yttrium, Japan's diversification, and China's own resource insecurity58:32 — From crime rings to two national champions: has the Wild West been tamed, and are central-local relations "fractured"?01:02:21 — Prescriptions: positive reciprocity, licensing Chinese technology, and managing interdependence rather than escaping it01:05:51 — Everyone else: Myanmar, Congo, Australia, and how Beijing thinks about third countries that don't want to choosePaying It ForwardGloria name-checked Wendy Leutert of Indiana University, who works on the reform and global expansion of China's state-owned enterprises and, with Isaac Kardon, on Chinese investment in global ports; Ning Leng of Georgetown University, author of the award-winning Politicizing Business: How Firms Are Made to Serve the Party State in China; and Ketian Zhang, who has written extensively on Chinese coercion and maritime disputes.Jessica first acknowledged the scholars whose research the essay drew on but couldn't cite in Foreign Affairs: Cory Combs of Trivium China, Arthur Kroeber, Henry Farrell, Duleep Singh, and Julie Klinger. She also flagged Jack Zhang, who runs the Trade War Lab at the University of Kansas, and Kyle Jaros and Sara Newland, who are writing a book on subnational economic statecraft — work that has shaped her thinking on disaggregating what the United States wants, not just what China wants.RecommendationsGloria: Healing the Heart of Democracy by Parker Palmer — a book she first read in a college writing seminar and returned to as she heads back into the classroom.Jessica: The Scientist and the Spy by Mara Hvistendahl, which she uses to close her SAIS seminar on Chinese foreign policy as a reminder about proportionality; and Ann Patchett's new novel Whistler.Kaiser: Wallace Stegner's Angle of Repose, the 1972 Pulitzer winner — a novel about mining camps in the American West and one of the most fully realized characters in American fiction.Also mentioned: Jessica's recent interview with Daniel Kurtz-Phelan on The Foreign Affairs Interview podcast, and her interview in The Monitor, the newsletter of the Carter Center's U.S.-China Perception Monitor.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Hello and welcome to our very first episode of The Travel Diaries: Unpacked, your weekend travel fix. Today I'm joined by the fabulous John O'Ceallaigh. John is a travel journalist and consultant to luxury hospitality brands, who previously served as the luxury travel editor for The Telegraph for nearly a decade.We'll be unpacking Nisha's bucket list destination, China; reflecting on my Hotel of the Week, Six Senses London; chatting about John's recent trip to Azerbaijan, and answering your listener question.Destination Recap:ChinaBeijing, ChinaShanghai, ChinaYunnan, ChinaShangri-La, Yunnan, ChinaGanden Sumtseling Monastery, Shangri-La, ChinaYellow Mountain, Anhui, ChinaChengdu, Sichuan, ChinaSt Peter's Basilica, Vatican CitySix Senses London, Bayswater, London, EnglandThe Whiteley, Bayswater, London, EnglandNotting Hill, London, EnglandDubai, United Arab EmiratesBaku, AzerbaijanCaspian Sea, AzerbaijanFairmont Baku, Flame Towers, Baku, AzerbaijanHeydar Aliyev Centre, Baku, AzerbaijanUzbekistanKhiva, UzbekistanSamarkand, UzbekistanRegistan Square, Samarkand, UzbekistanAll the destinations mentioned are included in the episode show notes and on thetraveldiariespodcast.com If you'd like to find out who's joining me next Tuesday, come and follow me on Instagram and TikTok, I'm @hollyrubenstein and I'd love to hear from you. With thanks to...Airbnb - Your home might be worth more than you think. Find out how much at airbnb.co.uk/hostI'll be back on Tuesday. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

This week on Sinica, I'm joined once again by Ryan Hass, Director of the John L. Thornton China Center at Brookings, former NSC director for China, Taiwan, and Mongolia, and co-host of the Beijing Brief podcast. Ryan has just published two pieces that couldn't be better timed: a long essay in China Leadership Monitor, “China's Great Power Vision Comes into Focus,” which argues that the 2020s may be remembered as the decade Beijing finally laid its cards on the table — and a shorter Brookings piece, “Why Beijing Isn't Taking the Bait with Trump,” on why Xi Jinping has answered an unusually accommodating American president with a poker face, and what that means for Xi's state visit to Washington later this month.We start with the perennial question — what does China want? — and Ryan's own two-decade journey with it, from chasing a supposed secret strategy in Zhongnanhai as a junior political officer to concluding that Beijing's vision is now legible and consistent: an international political order stripped of its liberal core and rebuilt around sovereign equality and the “global majority.” We talk about “American decline” and “strategic stalemate” in Chinese discourse, the tension between China's pitch to the developing world and its export juggernaut, the Middle East and Northeast Asia as test cases, and the central riddle of Ryan's essay: why a country so willing to articulate its ambitions has been so unwilling to pay for them. Then we turn to the summit — constructive strategic stability, escalation dominance, and what will and won't be on the table when Xi comes to Washington.03:11 – The “What does China want?” genre — and why Ryan concluded there is no secret plan locked in a Zhongnanhai vault06:10 – From participant to architect: what actually changed, and whether Beijing is revisionist or, as I cheekily put it, restorationist09:12 – “American decline” (美国衰落) and “strategic stalemate” (战略相持): reading Beijing's rhetorical restraint and the Maoist echo14:34 – Champion of the global majority, or the world's factory? The $6 toaster problem and the credibility gap on Ukraine and Japan19:36 – The Middle East as a test case: economic enabler, not security patron — and the good-faith maximalist rebuttal24:38 – Northeast Asia: why Beijing keeps generating the very encirclement it fears26:59 – Rhetoric without resources: flat foreign aid, shrinking BRI lending, and the SCO as China's proving ground32:28 – The Pew swing that hasn't materialized, and why Biden may have been America's last restorationist president36:01 – Why Beijing isn't taking the bait: Xi's poker face, “constructive strategic stability,” and the G2 refusal41:55 – Confident abroad, anxious at home: the purges, the memory of 2020, economic escalation dominance, and a viewer's guide to the September summitPaying It ForwardRyan flags two women doing important work in China studies, both with books out this fall: Emily Matson of Georgetown, whose China's Date Debate: How Manchurian Scholars Rewrote World War II examines how the start date of China's war with Japan was moved from 1937 back to 1931; and Shuxian Luo of the University of Hawaiʻi at Mānoa, whose Simmering Seas: Escalation and De-escalation in China's Maritime Disputes is forthcoming from Oxford University Press in October. He also gives a shout-out to the engines of the Brookings China Center, research assistants Allie Matthias and Joyce Yang.RecommendationsRyan: Barbara Tuchman's The Guns of August, which he's late to but found poignant for its eerie echoes of today's battlefields — and Maggie Haberman and Jonathan Swan's Regime Change, an inside account of the second Trump administration that he calls harrowing but essential for anyone trying to anticipate the president's behavior. (He also finally read The Three-Body Problem, and now knows his sophons from his Trisolarans.)Kaiser: Robert Harris's Agrippa, published September 1 — the memoir of Marcus Agrippa, the general who won Octavian's battles and built half of Augustan Rome, and a story about the pivot from republic to empire that feels uncomfortably relevant. And if you've read Tuchman, do read Christopher Clark's The Sleepwalkers: How Europe Went to War in 1914. Not my official recommendation, but astonishing.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Travel journalist Kathryn Romeyn shares how to find Thailand off the beaten path—from Nan Province night markets to Khao Sok's rainforest—plus the best time to visit Thailand if you want fewer crowds and lower prices. This week on Unpacked, host Aislyn Greene explores Thailand off the beaten path with journalist Kathryn Romeyn, who's covered Southeast Asia since 2014 and calls Bali, Indonesia home. Kathryn returned to Thailand again and again since her first real trip in 2018, and wrote Afar's guide to seeing the country differently. In this episode, part of Unpacked's Off the Tourist Trail series, she and Aislyn dig into Bangkok's overlooked neighborhoods, the north's least-visited provinces, and—critically—the best time to visit Thailand if you want to skip both the crowds and the price surge of high season. THIS WEEK'S GUEST Kathryn Romeyn is a Bali-based travel journalist who has covered Southeast Asia since 2014. After spending years visiting nearly every other country in the region—Myanmar, Cambodia, Malaysia, Vietnam—she finally gave Thailand a real chance starting in 2018, and has been chasing its lesser-known corners ever since. IN THIS EPISODE Why finding Thailand off the beaten path means letting go of five-star expectations—and how a $50-a-night, family-run guesthouse can outshine a luxury resort The best time to visit Thailand: why the shoulder seasons (roughly March–July and October–November) beat the crowded, expensive December–January peak, and why to avoid the hot, rainy August–September stretch Inside Nan Province, in Thailand's mountainous north near Laos—road-tripping through opium-turned-coffee country, staying in teak bungalows, and meeting a local guide from the Karen community Local flavors worth seeking out: sai oua northern-style sausage, chicken wings crusted in makhwaen (a wild jungle pepper related to Sichuan pepper), and the tamarind crunchy shrimp at Thanyamundra that Kathryn can't stop thinking about  A nightly ritual in Nan: communal floor dinners at bamboo khantoke tables between two illuminated temples, complete with live folk music and unmatched trash-sorting discipline Why Koh Yao Noi—a small island with one gas station and one doctor—offers an escape from the group-boat crowds hitting Phuket's more famous islands Skipping the standard Phuket–Krabi–Chiang Mai loop for Khaosok National Park where limestone karsts rise out of Cheow Lan Lake and langurs swing through the jungle canopy Why hiring a private guide or outfitter (like Smiling Albino or Red Savannah)—rather than a big-group tour—unlocks the kind of moments you can't find with an internet search CHAPTERS 00:00:00 Rethinking Thailand's Reputation 00:02:00 A Freelancer's First Real Trip 00:07:00 Getting Lost in Bangkok on Purpose 00:11:00 Island Escapes and the Road to Nan 00:16:00 Guesthouses Over Five-Star Hotels 00:21:00 Night Markets and Local Food Secrets LINKS & RESOURCES Kathryn Romeyn's AFAR story: How to See Thailand's Wonders Without Feeling Like a Tourist Thanyamundra Organic Resort Nan Seasons Boutique Resort Cape Kudu Hotel Koh Yao Noi Smiling Albino Red Savannah Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

In honor of the NFL season's imminent return, we've brought the boys from The Ringer Fantasy Football Show (Danny Heifetz, Danny Kelly, and Craig Horlbeck) into the Recipe Club clubhouse to conduct our first ever Food Movie Fantasy Draft. Come for the rapid-fire selection of cinema's greatest chefs, restaurants, drinking scenes, and food-related quotes. Stay for a Sichuan chicken wing eating race, an impromptu shotgunning of IPAs, and the end of Chris Ying's oldest friendships. Discover Extra Virgin Olive Oils From Spain. Nintendo: Power up your play with Nintendo Switch 2. Host: Chris Ying Guests: Danny Heifetz, Danny Kelly, and Craig Horlbeck Producers: Noelle Cornelio, Jesse Aron, Magdalena Munao Producer/Editor: Michael Rovzar Production Support: Neal Lett, Michael Delgado, Chris Thomas, David Meyer Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

A decade after President Xi Jinping and Egyptian President Abdel Fattah El-Sisi toured Luxor, a city widely known as one of the world's largest open-air museums, the two leaders again stepped into the world of ancient Egypt — this time at the Grand Egyptian Museum on the Giza Plateau.On Wednesday, during Xi's state visit to Egypt, the two presidents and their wives visited the museum, viewing treasures including the throne, golden mask and royal chariots of Tutankhamun. Surrounded by artifacts tracing thousands of years of Egyptian civilization, Xi called the museum "a book with endless pages".During the tour, Xi noted that China and Egypt are both ancient civilizations and countries rich in World Heritage sites. He called on the two sides to uphold a vision of civilization based on equality, mutual learning, dialogue and inclusiveness, implement the Global Civilization Initiative, and promote inclusive coexistence and mutual learning among different civilizations.Museums have been repeatedly featured in Xi's engagement with history and civilization — as places for understanding cultural roots and as settings for encounters with other civilizations.In a congratulatory letter to the first UNESCO High-Level Forum on Museums in Shenzhen, Guangdong province, in November 2016, Xi described museums as important places for protecting and passing on human civilizations and as bridges linking the past, present and future, with a special role in exchanges and mutual learning among civilizations.Whether on domestic inspection tours or overseas trips, Xi's visits have taken him to many museums, such as the Sanxingdui Museum in Sichuan province and the Yinxu Museum in Henan province, key sites of early Chinese civilization.During a visit in April 2021 to the Anthropology Museum of Guangxi in Nanning, the capital of the Guangxi Zhuang autonomous region, Xi said that he made time to visit museums during local inspection tours to better understand a place's historical and cultural development.At a symposium at the Dunhuang Academy in Gansu province in August 2019, Xi spoke about cultural confidence and learning from other civilizations."Only a self-confident civilization can absorb and draw on the achievements of other civilizations while maintaining its own characteristics," he said, calling for broader cultural exchanges with other countries and more active efforts to learn from the achievements of civilizations around the world.Dong Biao, a researcher at Peking University's Institute of Xi Jinping Thought on Socialism with Chinese Characteristics for a New Era, said museums preserve both the tangible achievements and the cultural and intellectual legacy of human civilizations, enabling people to engage more directly with the creativity, ways of life and ideas of past societies.A deeper understanding of one's own history and culture can strengthen cultural identity and confidence, Dong said.For Xi, museums offer people a chance to discover unfamiliar histories, recognize common threads of human creativity and gain a deeper understanding of one another."In the many places I have visited around the world, what fascinates me the most is civilizations in their rich diversity," Xi said at the opening of the Conference on Dialogue of Asian Civilizations in May 2019.Xi's overseas visits over the years have included stops at museums and historic sites such as the Amir Timur Museum in Uzbekistan and the ancient Maya ruins of Chichen Itza in Mexico.At the Acropolis Museum in Athens, Greece, in November 2019, one such cultural encounter unfolded around a single artifact.Xi and his wife, Peng Liyuan, were visiting the museum with then Greek president Prokopis Pavlopoulos and his wife when they stopped before the relief known as the "Pensive Athena".Pavlopoulos explained that Athena, the goddess of warfare and wisdom in Greek mythology, was resting and contemplating after battle. Xi said she was reflecting on what war meant and cited the ancient Chinese idiom "zhi ge wei wu", which means that to be able to stop war is the true art of war.Xi later said the museum visit had deepened his understanding of ancient Greek civilization and made him further realize how much the Chinese and Greek civilizations have in common.Museums have also served as settings in which Xi introduced China's history and cultural ideas to visiting foreign leaders.During Donald Trump's first state visit to China in November 2017, Xi and Peng accompanied the US president and first lady Melania Trump through the Palace Museum, or Forbidden City.As they walked along its central axis, Xi introduced the history, architecture and culture of the ancient palace. They visited the Hall of Supreme Harmony, the Hall of Central Harmony and the Hall of Preserving Harmony, whose names reflect the Chinese cultural ideal of harmony.Wang Yiwei, vice-president of the Academy of Xi Jinping Thought on Socialism with Chinese Characteristics for a New Era at Renmin University of China, said that exchanges among civilizations are not only about preserving the past, but also about how societies understand one another in the present.He said the Global Civilization Initiative put forward by Xi reflects this emphasis by calling for respect for the diversity of civilizations and for equality, mutual learning, dialogue and inclusiveness.At a time of geopolitical rivalry, conflicts and differences over values, Wang said that dialogue among civilizations cannot replace political negotiations or resolve disagreements over national interests. But it can help countries better understand one another's histories, identities and development paths, reduce misperceptions and strengthen the basis for mutual understanding.

Fuchsia Dunlop returns to the podcast to discuss Five Tastes: The Magic of Flavour in the Chinese Kitchen.We explore how Chinese cooking thinks about taste, balance and texture: from běnwèi, the essential flavour of an ingredient, and xiānwèi, umami, to qīngdàn, the light, understated dishes that balance a meal.Fuchsia explains why Sichuan food is about far more than heat, how cooks correct unwanted flavours in meat and fish, why soups and plain dishes matter, and how texture can be as important as flavour.We also talk about cooking by smell, sound and instinct, fermented tofu, wood ear mushrooms, jellyfish, menu planning, and why steaming is still underrated in the West.Plus: hot pot, tasting menus, air fryers, and why Chinese cooking is much more accessible than many people think.Transcript: www.thendobetter.com/arts/2026/9/4/fuchsia-dunlop-five-tastes-chinese-flavour-and-the-art-of-balanceContents:00:00 Welcome Fuchsia Dunlop00:30 The Five Tastes and Chinese ideas of flavour03:53 Balance and layered flavour06:44 Correcting fishy and meaty flavours11:34 Xiānwèi, umami and savoury depth15:08 Guàiwèi: harmony in “strange flavour”20:21 When to showcase or transform an ingredient23:40 Qīngdàn: the importance of quiet food30:15 Why texture matters in Chinese cooking36:29 How to build a Chinese meal at home41:37 Creating new recipes and fermented tofu45:14 Thirty years of food, travel and field notes49:55 Learning to cook by smell, sight and sound53:16 Hot pot, steaming and tasting menus: overrated or underrated?59:37 Chinese cooking needn't be intimidatingPhoto credit: (c) Kristin Perers

In 1978, a farmer in rural China could not sell a sack of grain above the state quota, choose an employer, or move to the nearest city without a permit.In this week's VoxDev Talk, Kaiji Chen and Tao Zha (both Emory University and Atlanta Fed) explain how China dismantled barriers like this one at a time. Gradualist reform first gave farmers the right to sell surplus grain at market prices. Small state firms were privatised 19 years later, while the largest kept state backing. This style of reform powered two distinct growth engines: first, labour moving off the land, then a wave of capital into infrastructure and property. The result: half a century of unprecedented growth -- but it also produced the debt, inequality and trade tension now working against China's growth model.The research behind this episode:Chen, Kaiji, and Tao Zha. 2025. "China's Macroeconomic Development: The Role of Gradualist Reforms." Journal of Economic Literature 63 (4): 1331-62.To cite this episode:Phillips, Tim, Kaiji Chen, and Tao Zha. 2026. "Fifty years of Chinese growth: The gradualist reform strategy explained." VoxDev Talk (podcast).About the guestsKaiji Chen is Professor of Economics at Emory University and a research fellow at the Federal Reserve Bank of Atlanta's Center for Quantitative Economic Research. His research spans financial contracts, business cycles and China's macroeconomy, with recent work on housing policy, credit allocation and household consumption in China.Tao Zha is the Samuel Candler Dobbs Professor of Economics at Emory University and executive director of the Center for Quantitative Economic Research at the Federal Reserve Bank of Atlanta. He is a research associate at the National Bureau of Economic Research and was elected a Fellow of the Econometric Society in 2017. His research spans macroeconomics, financial economics and econometrics, with a long standing focus on China's economy.Research cited in this episodeThe household responsibility system. Piloted in Sichuan and Anhui from 1978 and adopted nationwide by 1980, this reform kept land collectively owned but contracted it to individual households, who could sell output above a fixed state quota at market prices. It replaced work point pay with a direct link between effort and income, and the productivity gains it released freed the rural labour surplus behind China's first wave of industrialisation.Township and village enterprises (TVEs). Rural, collectively owned firms that absorbed workers leaving agriculture through the 1980s and 1990s, often with local governments acting as guarantors for bank credit the firms could not secure alone. TVE employment grew from 28 million in 1978 to 135 million by 1997, and TVE output rose from under 6% of GDP to 26% over roughly the same period.The hukou system. China's household registration system, introduced in 1958, ties access to housing, healthcare, education and grain rations to a person's registered location, rural or urban. It made moving to a city without an urban permit practically impossible. Restrictions eased in stages from the late 1990s, and the formal rural urban distinction was removed nationwide only in 2014."Grasp the large, let go of the small." The policy, initiated in 1997, under which China privatised or allowed the bankruptcy of small and medium state owned enterprises while retaining state control of the largest, most capital intensive firms in sectors such as infrastructure, energy and real estate.WTO accession and permanent Most Favoured Nation status. China joined the World Trade Organization in 2001. From 2002, permanent MFN status with the United States removed the annual threat of tariff spikes on Chinese exports, a stability that Chen and Zha's paper credits with accelerating China's shift from labour intensive exports toward electronics and other capital intensive goods.The 2009 stimulus and local government financing vehicles. In response to the global financial crisis, China launched a four trillion RMB fiscal package alongside a sharp expansion of bank lending. Much of the resulting infrastructure spending ran through local government financing vehicles, off budget entities set up to borrow for public projects; the debt they built up is now central to China's financial stability risks.Total social financing. International Monetary Fund. 2026. "People's Republic of China: 2025 Article IV Consultation." IMF Country Report No. 26/044. The IMF's broadest measure of credit in the Chinese economy, the figure Kaiji Chen cites as roughly 315% of GDP in 2025.More VoxDev Talks episodesThe Four Pests campaign and China's Great Famine, in which Shaoda Wang traces a darker chapter of Chinese economic history, the mass eradication of sparrows during the Great Leap Forward and the millions of deaths that followed.The rise and fall of China's overseas lending, in which Sebastian Horn explains how China became the developing world's largest bilateral creditor, and why that lending boom has now gone into reverse.Related reading on VoxDev.orgThe Mandarin model of growth, on how China's system of promoting local officials for delivering growth shaped decades of investment led expansion.How China became the world's factory: Trade, industrial policy, and growth, on the trade liberalisation and industrial policy that took China from export processing to global manufacturing leader.The bubble dynamics of China's housing boom, Edward Glaeser on the construction surge behind the price rises Chen and Zha describe in this episode.

This week on Sinica, I sit down with the writer Pallavi Aiyar — at her own dining table in Beijing, where in recent months I've been the lucky beneficiary of her and her husband Julio's legendary hospitality. Pallavi first arrived in Beijing in 2002 to teach at the Beijing Broadcasting Institute and went on to spend the better part of a decade as The Hindu's China correspondent — for much of that time, the only Chinese-speaking Indian foreign correspondent in the country. That period produced Smoke and Mirrors: An Experience of China, still one of the very few sustained attempts to look at China through Indian eyes. After 16 years away — years spent in Brussels, Jakarta, Tokyo, and Madrid — she's back in Beijing, and turning her gaze inward with her latest book, Travels in the Other Place: Pursuing the Self in Eight Acts. She writes the wonderful Substack The Global Jigsaw, which I recommend without reservation.Our conversation is built around her recent essay for Noema Magazine, “The Real Problem Underlying India-China Tensions,” which argues that the deepest problem in the relationship isn't the border or the trade imbalance but the distorting lenses through which each side reads the other: China reads India through the lens of colonial subordination, while India reads China through the lens of betrayal. We talk about the ugly etymology of an ethnic slur, the partial historical memories each country mistakes for the whole picture, her serialized interviews with the Chinese India-watcher Mao Keji, the aporia-inducing impossibility of explaining either country to outsiders — and how her answer to the question she first posed in 2008, “Would I rather be born Indian or Chinese?”, has changed, painfully, in the years since.4:35 – Beijing, 2002: an ad in That's Beijing, gandhi@hotmail.com, and becoming The Hindu's correspondent10:03 – “Beijing and I grew up together”: the aughts as a shared coming-of-age12:16 – The asymmetry of obsession: why India watches China, but not the reverse16:39 – The unacknowledged third vertex: Western discursive power in the India-China relationship18:08 – Back after 16 years: the Liangma River, blue skies, and the panopticon21:35 – Walks in the park and the “buddy system”: what access looks like now25:43 – Where did all the foreigners go?29:59 – The scene at CCG: candor, offense, and the register of truth33:10 – “Asan”: the etymology of a slur, Sikh policemen, opium fortunes, and China's colonial lens40:10 – 1962 and India's betrayal lens42:15 – Aporia: the foolhardy task of explaining India or China47:22 – Shame and indignation: explaining a place you love versus a place you merely know52:29 – The big question, 2008: born Indian or Chinese?55:44 – The 2026 answer: “It hurts”1:00:08 – Kaiser pushes back: cherry-picked comparisons, and can this essay's very existence complicate its conclusions?1:04:43 – Twin nations of the exam1:06:57 – Cognitive empathy: what it would take for ordinary Indians and Chinese to actually see each otherPaying It ForwardYaqi Li, a young Chinese international relations scholar recently returned to China after a year in Singapore — Pallavi admires the rare self-reflectiveness of his memoir-inflected IR writing on his Substack, New China Literacy, and notes that he makes an interesting case for AI-assisted writing as a way for second- and third-language English speakers to find their voice.RecommendationsPallavi: Flashlight by Susan Choi — a novel spanning Japan, the U.S., and North Korea, built around the North Korean abductions of Japanese citizens in the 1970s. Also This Is Where the Serpent Lives by Daniyal Mueenuddin — the first novel from her favorite Pakistani writer, a sprawling, Chekhovian portrait of feudalism and politics in modern Pakistan.Kaiser: Crossing to Safety by Wallace Stegner — beautiful at the sentence level, painted on a small canvas: two couples who meet as young academics at the University of Wisconsin–Madison, and their friendship across the decades. Emotionally rich despite the absence of grand drama.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

How has botany been able to function as one of the longest-lasting soft powers between the two world powers - China and the US? Journalist and producer Finn Aberdein has been focused on China for over two decades. He hears from policy analysts, supply chain diplomats and leading Chinese and US botanists working tirelessly to keep their boots on the ground trips operating. From the secretive walled-gardens of China's communist elite, to the gingko picnic spaces of Bostonian college lawns, and ancient forest canopies of the Sichuan basin, a portrait emerges - one of a borderless community of plant specialists practising a special kind of soft power. How has the quiet work of botanists helped weather political storms?

This week on Sinica, I welcome back Evan Osnos of The New Yorker, whose marvelous new essay, “The Future, Made in China,” chronicles a tech-focused return trip to Beijing, where he lived from 2005 to 2013 — first for the Chicago Tribune, then as The New Yorker's China correspondent. Evan is the author of Age of Ambition: Chasing Fortune, Truth, and Faith in the New China, which won the National Book Award, as well as Wildland: The Making of America's Fury and The Haves and Have-Yachts.His essay is far more than another breathless account of China's advances in robotics and electric vehicles. It's a meditation on what China's technological ascent means for the United States, for how both societies are organized, and for the rest of us, whose futures increasingly seem to be wagered by two small circles of powerful men in Beijing and Washington. We talk about the Xiaomi Hyperfactory, “Chinamaxxing,” the export control debate, and the deeper contest Evan identifies: not democracy versus authoritarianism, but humanism versus scientism.3:04 – Walking Beijing's streets again: quieter, richer, more surveilled11:26 – The Xiaomi Hyperfactory: choreography, awe, and what's actually real18:10 – Doomed to coexist: Evan's message for the American reader24:15 – Schrödinger's China: joke or juggernaut?27:16 – The limits of knowability in an increasingly opaque system31:56 – Threat narratives vs. “Chinamaxxing”: America's two China conversations43:20 – “Thank Trump”: America's self-inflicted wounds47:29 – Revisiting the Sullivan doctrine and export controls53:10 – Mankind 2000: humanism, scientism, and rival oligarchies1:02:48 – Convergence: arriving at dystopia from opposite directions1:07:21 – Self-strengthening redux: Levenson and America's meum-verum gap1:17:53 – The other Sputnik moment: the backlash against tech oligarchyPaying It ForwardYi-Ling Liu, author of The Wall Dancers: Searching for Freedom and Connection on the Chinese Internet — Evan admires how her work grapples with the competition between scientism and humanism across national borders.Chang Che, who writes for The New Yorker and The Guardian — watching China's technological developments up close, “creating history in real time.”RecommendationsEvan: How to Rule the World: An Education in Power at Stanford University by Theo Baker — the youngest-ever Polk Award winner on how a rising generation at Silicon Valley's feeder school perceives its opportunities and obligations. Also True Grit by Charles Portis — splendid, sentence-savoring dialogue.Kaiser: Butcher's Crossing by John Williams, author of Stoner — a Western with the same sentence-level craft; for fans of Melville and Cormac McCarthy.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

With the 2026 summer travel season now at its peak, China's tourism market continues to sizzle, with record-breaking passenger flows and shifting preferences reshaping the holiday landscape, according to travel agencies.各大旅行社表示，2026年暑期旅游正值旺季峰值，国内文旅市场热度持续高涨，出行人次创下新高，游客偏好不断转变，重塑了假日出行格局。Travel booking platforms are reporting strong growth. Tuniu, an online travel agency, said bookings for summer tourism products had risen 17 percent year-on-year as of late July, with domestic travel bookings up more than 20 percent. On online travel platform Qunar, summer car rental bookings have increased by nearly 60 percent year-on-year.旅游预订平台订单量大幅攀升。在线旅游服务商途牛数据显示，截至7月下旬，暑期旅游产品预订量同比上涨17%，其中国内游预订涨幅超20%；去哪儿平台暑期租车订单同比增长近60%。To further stimulate summer consumption, more than 450 million yuan ($66 million) in travel vouchers will be distributed nationwide this summer, according to the Ministry of Culture and Tourism.文化和旅游部称，今年夏季全国将发放总额超4.5亿元（折合6600万美元）文旅消费券，进一步拉动暑期消费。More than 30,000 culture and tourism consumption events will also be held across the country. Local authorities will expand the supply of high-quality tourism and cultural offerings, including summer retreats, coastal vacations, nighttime tourism, cruises and yachting, family trips, study tours, culinary experiences and museum visits, the ministry said.全国各地还将举办三万余场文旅消费活动。文旅部介绍，各地持续丰富优质文旅产品供给，涵盖避暑休闲、滨海度假、夜间文旅、邮轮游艇、亲子家庭游、研学旅行、美食体验、博物馆游览等多种业态。Family travel remains the dominant force in the summer tourism market. Parents and kids account for over 60 percent of summer travelers on Tuniu and 45 percent on Qunar. According to Qunar, the top family travel destinations this summer are Shanghai, Beijing, Chengdu in Sichuan province, Kunming in Yunnan province and Guangzhou in Guangdong province.亲子家庭游依旧是暑期旅游市场主力军。途牛平台暑期亲子游客占比超60%，去哪儿平台该比例达45%。去哪儿数据显示，今夏热门亲子目的地依次为上海、北京、四川成都、云南昆明以及广东广州。Family travel itself is also evolving. Gone are the days when parents planned trips entirely around their children's needs. This summer, as more people born after 1995 become parents, an "everyone has a good time" approach to family vacations is becoming increasingly popular, according to Qunar.亲子游模式也在不断迭代。过去父母一切围绕孩子需求规划行程的时代已然过去。去哪儿平台表示，随着大批95后步入父母行列，兼顾全家游玩体验、人人都能收获快乐的度假理念愈发流行。Hotels are adapting to the trend by offering childcare services and children's clubs. On Qunar, searches for hotels with childcare services and children's programs rose 40 percent month-on-month. The five most popular search criteria for family-friendly hotels are swimming pools, children's clubs, washing machines, refrigerators and child safety facilities.各大酒店顺应趋势，纷纷推出托管服务、儿童乐园。去哪儿平台上，带有育儿服务、儿童游乐项目的酒店搜索量环比上涨40%；亲子酒店五大热门筛选条件为：泳池、儿童俱乐部、洗衣机、冰箱、儿童安全设施。Yan Yun, a resident of Wuhan, Hubei province, in her 30s, is traveling with her 5-year-old daughter and her brother's family — five people in all — on a nine-day road trip from Shenyang and Dalian in Liaoning province to Yantai, Shandong province, from July 25 to Aug 2.湖北武汉30多岁市民严芸，带着5岁女儿以及哥哥一家，共计五人，开启了9天自驾之旅：7月25日至8月2日，从辽宁沈阳、大连一路前往山东烟台。Still on the road and renting a car for the entire trip, Yan said the journey has been highly enjoyable.全程租车自驾、旅途仍在继续的严芸坦言，这次出行体验十分美好。She said traveling with children slows the pace and requires more negotiation, making the itinerary less predictable.她说道，带孩子出游行程节奏会放缓，凡事需要互相商量，旅途计划不会一成不变。Despite the slower pace, she described the journey as a unique and rewarding experience for the whole family.虽说行程节奏舒缓，但她认为这场旅行给全家人带来了独一无二、充实美好的收获。The growing demand for richer travel experiences has become another defining feature of this summer's tourism market. Tuniu said users are increasingly seeking in-depth and experiential travel, driven by sustained demand for emotional value and experience-based consumption.游客对沉浸式深度体验的需求攀升，是今夏文旅市场另一大鲜明特点。途牛表示，受情感价值需求与体验式消费热潮带动，游客愈发偏爱深度体验游。Li Pengbo, Communist Party of China secretary of the School of Tourism Sciences at Beijing International Studies University and a professor at the school, said the shift reflects a fundamental change in consumer values.北京第二外国语学院旅游科学学院党委书记、教授李朋波表示，这种出游偏好转变，本质上是大众消费观念的更迭。"In the era of 'check-in tourism', when travel opportunities were relatively scarce, simply having been somewhere was valuable. Photos served as proof, and social media posts announced the experience.“打卡旅游盛行的年代，出游机会有限，只要抵达过某地就极具意义；拍照留存当作凭证，再发到社交平台分享，便是旅行的全部意义。”"Today, as travel becomes more routine, the marginal value of simply having been somewhere has plummeted. How did you travel? What did you feel? Do you have a story to tell? These have become the new value anchors," Li said.李教授讲道：“如今旅行早已常态化，单纯到此一游的边际价值大幅下降。人们更在意出行方式、内心感受、旅途故事，这些才是当下旅行新的价值核心。”That helps explain the rapid rise of experiences such as city walks, intangible cultural heritage workshops and local food tours, which offer stories to tell rather than simply places to show, he said.这也就能解释为何城市漫步、非遗手作体验、本地美食探访等项目迅速走红：这类旅行重在收获可讲述的旅途故事，而非单纯打卡景点。Summer also remains the peak season for both outbound and inbound travel. According to Qunar, the most popular outbound destinations include Thailand, South Korea, Malaysia, Singapore, the Hong Kong Special Administrative Region, Indonesia and the United States. Thailand tops the list, with skill-learning trips — in which travelers learn activities such as cooking, yoga and Muay Thai — driving a 3.3-fold increase in hotel bookings in Chiang Mai.暑期同样是出入境旅游旺季。去哪儿数据显示，热门出境目的地有泰国、韩国、马来西亚、新加坡、中国香港、印度尼西亚、美国。泰国稳居榜首，厨艺、瑜伽、泰拳等技能研学旅行热度高涨，直接带动清迈酒店预订量暴涨3.3倍。Inbound tourism is also booming, with Shanghai, Beijing, Guangzhou and Chengdu among the most popular destinations.入境游市场同样蓬勃发展，上海、北京、广州、成都最受外籍游客青睐。By source market, the leading countries for inbound travelers this summer are Thailand, Canada, the US, the United Kingdom and Russia. Greek visitors to China increased 9.5 times year-on-year, the fastest growth among all source markets. Visitor numbers from Sri Lanka, Mongolia, Sweden, Finland and Mexico also more than doubled, according to Qunar.从客源国来看，今夏来华游客主要来自泰国、加拿大、美国、英国、俄罗斯。其中希腊来华游客同比暴涨9.5倍，涨幅位居所有客源市场首位；斯里兰卡、蒙古、瑞典、芬兰、墨西哥来华人数也均实现翻倍增长。surge /sɜːdʒ/激增，热潮sizzle /ˈsɪzl/热度高涨，火爆experiential /ɪkˌspɪəriˈenʃl/体验式的plummet /ˈplʌmɪt/暴跌，大幅下降intangible /ɪnˈtændʒəbl/无形的outbound /ˈaʊtbaʊnd/出境的；外出的

Last time we spoke about the Japanese offensive at Changsha. In late September 1941, fighting in China had become a brutal struggle of endurance. Japanese forces kept pushing forward, but China—though battered by heavy losses—refused to yield. Help from abroad was slowly beginning to matter. American aid reached China through groups like the Red Cross, and volunteers later associated with the Flying Tigers offered crucial support to Chinese operations. Against this backdrop, Changsha in Hunan became the center of a dangerous autumn campaign. Chiang Kai-shek and the Nationalist leadership treated the city as strategically vital, knowing that its fate could influence the wider course of the war. In the end, the resistance at Changsha showed China's key advantage: resilience. The city's defense helped slow the Japanese advance, break up momentum, and create uncertainty as the campaign continued.   #212 The Autumn Battle of Changsha, 1941 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 late September 1941, the war in China had already entered its fifth year. By then the conflict had lost whatever remained of novelty and had settled into something harsher and more exhausting: a long war of attrition fought across enormous distances, under conditions of chronic shortage, strategic uncertainty, and repeated local catastrophe. Japan still possessed formidable military strength. Its armies could strike hard, move fast, and exploit superior firepower, air support, and communications in individual campaigns. Yet the larger shape of the war had begun to change. China had not collapsed. The Nationalist government still stood. Chinese armies, however battered, still held the field. The line between survival and defeat remained dangerously thin, but it had not broken. This was the situation in which the autumn campaign in Hunan and Hubei unfolded.   The struggle around Changsha did not occur in isolation. It belonged to a wider military and political moment. In Europe, the war had already expanded into a continent-wide convulsion. Germany and the Soviet Union were locked in a massive struggle after the German invasion in June. Leningrad was under threat, Kiev had become the scene of disaster, and the approach of the battle for Moscow suggested that still greater bloodshed lay ahead. Stalin had pressed Churchill to open a second front in Europe and had been refused. The global balance of war was shifting, but not yet in any way that guaranteed relief to China.   In Asia, Japan continued to press forward. The pressure on China remained immense. Yet by mid-1941 China's position, though still precarious, no longer looked quite as desperate as it had in earlier years. International sympathy had grown. Material aid, however limited, was beginning to take more concrete form. In July, the American Red Cross sent China medical supplies worth millions of dollars. In August, more than a hundred retired American pilots and mechanics came together to aid China against Japan. The air unit they formed, later celebrated as the Flying Tigers, meant more than aircraft and personnel alone. It signaled that China's war was no longer quite so isolated. That change in atmosphere did not produce calm in Chongqing. It sharpened urgency.   For Chiang Kai-shek, the possibility that the international situation might slowly improve for China carried with it a hard implication: China had to endure long enough to benefit from it. That meant surviving not in abstract terms, but in particular places, against particular offensives, at moments when a local defeat might have consequences far beyond the immediate battlefield. In the autumn of 1941, one of those places was Changsha. Changsha had long occupied an outsized place in the military geography of the war. It stood as the capital of Hunan, a hinge between regions, and a vital position in the defense of central China. Its security affected the Xiang River basin, communications across the province, and the broader defensive posture shielding approaches toward the wartime capital. To lose it, even temporarily, would be more than a symbolic blow. It would threaten the larger balance of the front in south-central China and test whether Japanese offensives could still force dramatic strategic results.   At the same time, the battle for Changsha was not a simple contest between one Chinese army and one Japanese army facing each other across a fixed line. It was part of a larger operational struggle linking the Ninth War Zone with supporting actions from the Third, Fifth, and Sixth War Zones. It involved frontal resistance, hurried reinforcement, mobile defense, rear harassment, and the constant effort to turn Japanese momentum into Japanese overextension. Chinese commanders were trying not merely to survive a blow, but to absorb it, stretch it, and eventually strike back against an enemy whose speed could become a liability once supply lines lengthened and formations dispersed. This was the burden resting on the Military Commission in Chongqing.   There, while reports arrived in fragments and maps were revised hour by hour, Chiang Kai-shek spent long stretches in the operations room watching the situation in Hunan and Hubei develop. He had already ordered the various war zones to support the Ninth War Zone's operations, and now he followed the campaign with intense concentration. His attention moved repeatedly toward reports from the Sixth War Zone and Chen Cheng's counteroffensive toward Yichang, for Yichang was tied not only to local fighting in Hubei but also to the defense of the Yangtze approach and therefore to the security of Chongqing itself. In his mind, Hunan and Hubei had become the focal point of China's war effort in that season.   Meanwhile at the front, the situation was deteriorating fast. Japanese forces pressing into northern Hunan had already imposed severe strain on the Chinese defense. Blocking units had been battered back. Communications were uncertain. Some formations fought stubbornly but could not hold; others dissolved more quickly than hoped. The Japanese advance toward Changsha created exactly the kind of crisis Chinese commanders feared most: one in which the enemy moved with enough force and speed to threaten a major city before a coherent defensive response could be reassembled. Chinese units had to be thrown into action as they arrived, often after exhausting marches, often with incomplete knowledge of the situation, and often under immediate pressure from artillery, aircraft, and aggressive infantry assaults. Yet even at this dangerous stage, the campaign contained an opportunity as well as a threat.   The deeper Japanese units pushed into Hunan, the more exposed their rear became. Supply depots, transport lines, and communications stretched farther behind the spearhead. Chinese formations that had been driven aside were not always destroyed; some remained capable of reappearing to strike roads, depots, and isolated detachments. If Changsha represented the visible center of the struggle, the enemy rear represented its hidden vulnerability. The Chinese aim, therefore, was not simply to defend passively around the city. It was to combine stubborn resistance in front with harassment and disruption behind, so that Japanese advance would become increasingly difficult to sustain. The battle that followed unfolded under these pressures: a threatened city, a strained but unbroken defense, commanders forced to improvise under severe danger, and a wider international war that made every local decision feel heavier than the ground on which it was taken.   This subtle improvement in China's larger situation did not mean safety. China was still battered, under-resourced, and vulnerable. Japanese forces still possessed enormous advantages in mobility, firepower, and air power in many sectors. Large parts of the country remained occupied or threatened. Yet by mid-1941 something in the atmosphere had changed. In July, the American Red Cross sent China medical supplies worth millions of dollars. In August, more than a hundred retired American pilots and mechanics came together to aid China in its struggle against Japan. The air unit they formed would become famous under the name by which China knew them: the Flying Tigers. Their significance exceeded their immediate tactical value. They represented a visible sign that China was not entirely abandoned to isolation.   For Claire Chennault, romantic, aggressive, and optimistic by temperament, the new situation encouraged increasingly bold thoughts. For the first time he included in his planning the idea that Japanese home territory might one day be bombed from bases in China. Such schemes were ambitious and perhaps premature, but their very existence reveals an altered horizon of possibility. A country that imagines striking back is already psychologically in a different position from one concerned only with preventing collapse.     Yichang mattered directly to the fighting in Xiangbei, but it also mattered independently. It was tied to the security of the Yangtze approach and therefore to the defense of Chongqing. It belonged not only to the immediate problem of battlefield maneuver but to the larger question of whether China could do more than absorb Japanese offensives. Could Chinese forces exploit enemy overstretch? Could Japanese advances be turned into liabilities? Could local counterattacks and rear harassment generate effects greater than the raw size of the forces involved? By September 1941, these questions were no longer hypothetical. They were urgent. In Chiang's mind, Hunan and Hubei had become the focal point of China's war effort in that season.   The struggle around Changsha was central to that effort. From Chongqing, Chiang telegraphed Commander Xue Yue of the Ninth War Zone with instructions that made both the danger and the opportunity plain. The message emphasized that the enemy in northern Hunan, though still pressing hard, had already been bravely intercepted by Chinese units and was now exhausted, with lines of advance increasingly difficult to sustain. This, Chiang argued, created an excellent opportunity for Chinese forces to strike at the enemy's rear and seek annihilation rather than mere delay. He urged officers and soldiers alike to remain determined to destroy the enemy. Even if Japanese troops advanced to the vicinity of Changsha itself, Chinese forces were to renew their efforts, maintain their confidence in victory, and prevent the enemy from establishing a foothold.   The telegram also pointed to the broader operational picture. Japanese troops drawn from the sectors of the Fifth and Sixth War Zones had been committed to the invasion of northern Hunan, leaving their rear areas dangerously exposed. The Third, Fifth, and Sixth War Zones had launched supporting offensives on the twenty-third. Therefore, the Ninth War Zone had to strike resolutely and fiercely, preventing the Japanese from coordinating their forces and frustrating any attempt to occupy Changsha. The message was at once exhortation and operational logic. It reflected the core Chinese problem in the campaign: the Japanese thrust was dangerous and had to be blocked, but the very speed and depth of that thrust could also expose the attacker. Yet by the time Chiang sent his instructions, the danger around Changsha was already severe. After the 74th Army had been beaten back, there was no major Chinese force north of the city that could confidently block the Japanese advance in a straightforward, stable line. The Japanese 4th Division, together with the Hayabuchi Detachment, had defeated the 95th Division of the Chinese 37th Army and pushed toward Changsha. The prospect that the city might fall, at least temporarily, was no longer remote.   In response, Xia Chuzhong's 79th Army from the Sixth War Zone was ordered to move toward the city. Its vanguard was Wang Jiaben's 98th Division. That movement was a forced march in the literal sense. It was not a flourish of language but an admission of emergency. Troops were pushed beyond ordinary endurance because there was no time to gather strength under favorable conditions. Changsha could not wait for convenience, rest, or ideal concentration. Either reinforcements arrived in time to fight immediately, or they arrived too late to matter. Wang Jiaben was no stranger to battle. A veteran officer from the Yunnan Army, he had fought the Japanese repeatedly—more than twenty times since the outbreak of the War of Resistance. He belonged to that generation of commanders who had been shaped by the fragmented military politics of Republican China but whose careers were now being rewritten by the national emergency of the anti-Japanese war.   During the First Battle of Changsha, he had already distinguished himself. He led troops in a counterattack along the Tongcheng line in southern Hubei and intercepted retreating Japanese forces at Longmenchang and Changshoujie, killing more than a thousand enemy soldiers. He had experience, reputation, and a sense of what it meant to fight in the Changsha theater. This time he marched from Changde, driving his division forward with all possible speed. By noon on September 26 the 98th Division reached a position about two kilometers northeast of Changsha. There was scarcely time to settle the men. No careful preparation was possible. They had arrived because the city was in danger, and battle began almost at once. At dusk the division engaged the Hayabuchi Detachment.   The fighting continued until late in the night without decisive result. That in itself was costly enough. Troops who have just completed a punishing march are already close to the limits of their endurance. To be thrown immediately into combat magnifies every weakness: thirst, fatigue, confusion, and the difficulty of building fieldworks under pressure. What the soldiers of the 98th Division could do that night, they did with their hands and whatever tools they had. They scraped positions out of the earth. They assembled makeshift cover. Officers moved along the line trying to impose order on terrain that had become a battlefield almost as soon as it was occupied. At dawn on September 27 the Japanese intensified the pressure from the air.   More than twenty aircraft bombed the 98th Division's positions, tearing apart the earthworks that officers and soldiers had spent the night constructing. Bombing had a double effect. Physically, it damaged positions, wounded men, and disrupted preparations. Psychologically, it reminded defenders that they were being observed from above and struck by an enemy against whom they could often do little in the sky. Immediately after the bombing came a fierce infantry assault. Wang Jiaben and several other commanders went down to their respective regiments to supervise the fighting personally. This was dangerous, but under such circumstances commanders often believed that presence itself mattered. When fieldworks are collapsing, shell bursts are continuous, and communications are unreliable, authority must sometimes be carried by a body rather than a wire. The defenders held.   Again and again the Japanese attacked. Again and again they were repulsed only to reorganize and come on once more. Every minute the Chinese line remained in place was bought with blood. Fallen and wounded men were carried rearward in what seemed an endless stream. The cost of resistance accumulated visibly before the eyes of those still fighting. By noon even water could no longer be delivered to the front. That detail reveals the intensity of the battle more clearly than many grander statements could. A line that cannot be supplied even with water has reached a condition of severe strain. During brief pauses in the fighting, officers and soldiers pulled out dry rations and chewed them slowly, swallowing with difficulty while they waited for the next attack. Such moments are among the most characteristic in battle: not the long, smooth continuity imagined in peacetime rhetoric, but brief interludes of miserable necessity between explosions. At two in the afternoon the crisis deepened sharply.   A unit of the Japanese 4th Division worked its way behind the 98th Division's position and attacked from the rear. This was the kind of tactical development every defending commander dreads. A force can endure heavy frontal pressure if its line remains coherent and its rear reasonably secure. But when enemy troops appear behind a position, the entire structure of defense begins to dissolve. There, behind the line, were more than a hundred Chinese wounded awaiting evacuation. Japanese soldiers attacked them with bayonets. One of the wounded Chinese soldiers, already beyond ordinary capacity for resistance, rushed forward and detonated a grenade against a Japanese attacker. It was an act of desperation, but also of defiance. The episode captures something essential about the tone of the battle around Changsha. This was not a neat engagement between organized lines alone. It was a desperate collision in which even the badly wounded were drawn into last resistance. For Wang Jiaben, however, the tactical reality was impossible to deny. If he stayed where he was, the division might be annihilated. Personal courage could not alter encirclement. Resentfully, bitterly, and under the kind of pressure that leaves permanent scars on a commander's memory, he ordered retreat. When he led the survivors off the battlefield, fewer than half his men remained.   Reinforcements from another direction now entered the struggle. The Provisional 2nd Army of the Seventh War Zone dispatched the Provisional 8th Division under Zhang Junsong. At seven in the evening on September 27, Zhang's force arrived at Zuojiatang on the eastern outskirts of Changsha. Personnel of the Ninth War Zone waiting there reported grim news: a Japanese detachment had already entered the city that afternoon, and another detachment was only three kilometers away. The situation invited rashness. A commander arriving near a threatened city at dusk, with reports that the enemy is already inside, may feel compelled to hurl troops forward immediately in a gesture of resolution. Yet night fighting in an urban approach without adequate reconnaissance can turn courage into waste. Zhang Junsong considered the matter carefully. He concluded that to rush blindly into the city at night would likely produce confusion and heavy losses. Instead he first sought to strike the enemy outside the city. His troops deployed quietly and crept forward through the darkness, launching a probing attack. But they soon discovered that the Japanese were fully prepared and not vulnerable to easy surprise. The line could not be broken. With no prospect of success, the force withdrew.   The moment is revealing because it shows how narrow the margin had become. Chinese commanders were trying to recover initiative while still groping through uncertainty. Reports were incomplete, Japanese dispositions difficult to fix, and every hour dangerous. On the evening of September 28, the 79th Army's 6th Provisional Division occupied Yuelu Mountain west of Changsha. From that height officers and soldiers looked across the Xiang River toward the city. Changsha, for the first time, was in Japanese hands. The emotional force of that sight can only be imagined. Changsha had lived for years under threat. It had been defended, contested, prepared, and feared. The possibility of its loss had hovered over military planning and public consciousness alike. Now the danger had become fact. A city that had stood as an object of effort and anxiety was visibly occupied by the enemy. No single feeling could have governed the men who saw it. There must have been anger, shame, weariness, and dread—but also stubbornness. For in war a city seen in enemy hands is not always simply lost. Sometimes it is a summons.   Late that night Zhao Jiping, commander of the 6th Provisional Division, received a telegram from Xue Yue. He read it and then stood before the map for a long time. Days of anxiety began to lift. He was not alone in that reaction. Many Chinese generals involved in the campaign had felt that they were fighting a confused and chaotic battle. Japanese movements had been broad, rapid, and difficult to pin down. The Ninth War Zone had thrown numerous units into blocking actions, yet both well-regarded formations and weaker, improvised units had repeatedly failed to hold. After ten days of combat, Chinese losses were heavy. But Japanese forces too had been worn, stretched, and damaged. Only now, as the Japanese reached the apparent culmination of their advance, did the Ninth War Zone begin to recover rhythm. Chaos did not disappear, but it became more legible. The possibility of a more ordered counteroffensive emerged.   In the early hours of September 29, Zhao Jiping issued the order to force a crossing of the Xiang River and attack the enemy in Changsha. The preparations consumed the entire day. River crossings under combat conditions are among the most delicate operations in war. Boats must be assembled or found. Units must be organized into waves. Timing matters. Surprise matters. The location of landing points matters. The men themselves matter most of all, because they must sit exposed in fragile craft knowing that the real test will begin not in the middle of the river but at the far bank. Late that night the division crossed secretly by boat in six groups. The crossing itself went well enough. The river did not betray them. The groups made progress in darkness. Yet everyone involved understood that smooth movement on the water did not guarantee success. The crucial question was what waited at the landing points. It was expected that the troops going ashore at Daximen would be first to meet the Japanese. Once battle began there, the rest of the crossing accelerated.   Chinese soldiers landed, attacked fiercely, and drove the enemy back from the riverbank. The momentum of the assault mattered. In such moments hesitation on shore can doom an entire crossing, but aggression can seize a foothold before the defender fully stabilizes. By the time Chinese forces entered the city, dawn was breaking. Then came street fighting. Changsha had ceased to be an objective on a map. It became again what cities become in war: a place of corners, walls, alleys, debris, smoke, and sudden death. Fighting in a city strips away much of the abstraction through which campaigns are often remembered. Streets channel movement. Buildings become cover, obstacles, or traps. Distances shrink but danger multiplies. A few men behind masonry can delay many more. Noise magnifies confusion. The city itself seems to fragment into a hundred separate battlefields. For Changsha, the long season of anxious anticipation ended in direct flame.   Yet to understand the campaign only through the struggle at Changsha would be incomplete. While the city drew attention as the central prize, another set of operations was unfolding across Hunan and Hubei—less dramatic in appearance perhaps, but strategically significant. These were the actions of the 27th Army Group under Yang Sen. If the fighting around Changsha demonstrated the pressure of frontal battle, Yang Sen's operations illustrated another principle entirely: the stubborn, opportunistic use of weaker forces to harass, sting, and trouble a stronger enemy from behind. The 27th Army Group was composed largely of Sichuan troops. Their presence speaks to one of the larger political transformations of the war. Republican China had long been fractured by regional militarism. Armies had often owed stronger loyalty to commanders, provinces, or local power structures than to any unified national command. Yet the anti-Japanese war compelled a partial reordering of those loyalties. Many warlord forces, however imperfectly integrated, now turned their weapons outward under Nationalist command.   There were exceptions. Some men, like Han Fuqu, had preserved their own strength at the cost of military responsibility and lost both opportunity and honor in doing so. But in the main, especially among middle and lower-ranking officers and ordinary soldiers, the imperative of national survival overrode provincial identity. Men from distant regions marched and fought in terrains not their own because the war no longer permitted a narrow conception of interest. Yang Sen himself was an old warlord soldier, one of those figures formed in the fractured military world of earlier decades. By 1941 he was deputy commander of the Ninth War Zone and commander-in-chief of the 27th Army Group. Along the Hunan-Hubei-Jiangxi border he had long been cautious in his operations.   At the beginning of the northern Hunan battle, his troops proved unable to withstand the force of the Japanese offensive and retreated in disorder into mountains and forests. That fact should not be softened. They were pushed back. But retreat did not mean disappearance. This is where Yang Sen's role became important. Once the main Japanese force had advanced far ahead, the troops that had scattered began to reemerge. They knew the terrain. They knew the roads, villages, passes, and wooded approaches. If they could not defeat the Japanese in a grand collision, they could search for openings behind the advancing columns.   On September 20, as the Japanese main force drove into the heart of northern Hunan, Yang Sen led elements of the 4th, 58th, and 20th Armies in pursuit for an entire day. The main body of the 4th Army had already been badly beaten at the Xinqiang River line, and only the 60th Division, recently transferred from the 37th Army, remained relatively intact. That single fact sharply defined the weakness of his means. He was not pursuing with fresh and powerful forces prepared for a decisive encounter. He was pursuing with fragments, survivors, and such units as still retained some offensive potential. But the Japanese, intent on rapid advance southward, paid too little attention to what followed behind them. That was the opening Yang Sen needed.   On the morning of September 21, the 60th Division acted on information supplied by an old beggar. Such details often sound almost literary, but they remind us that war in China was never fought by armies alone. Villagers, refugees, peddlers, guides, boatmen, and the destitute all participated in the circulation of military knowledge. A beggar could see what a reconnaissance officer had missed. On the basis of that tip, the 60th Division launched a surprise attack on the supply depot of the Japanese 40th Division at Zhangjiayuan. Division Commander Dong Yu led the action.   The Chinese quickly overwhelmed the more than three hundred Japanese troops guarding the depot. Once they broke in, they discovered an astonishing quantity of matériel: shell boxes, ammunition, food, medicine, gasoline, explosives, protective clothing, telephone wire, body bags, stretchers, and more, all stacked beneath heavy canvas. For men accustomed to scarcity, it must have seemed almost unreal. Dong Yu, delighted, is remembered as exclaiming to his deputy commander, "It's practically a department store!" The line has a momentary comic brightness in the middle of war, and that is part of why it survives. But its deeper significance lies in what it reveals. A modern army advancing deep into hostile territory is sustained by accumulation—ammunition, fuel, wire, medicines, rations, transport materials. To seize such a depot is not merely to take objects. It is to grasp the hidden skeleton of movement. Dong Yu then issued a one-word order: "Move."   At once the whole division became a swarm of carriers. Officers and soldiers grabbed whatever they could and began hauling the captured supplies away. The scene must have been one of extraordinary improvised energy—riflemen transformed into laborers, war reduced for a moment to the brute physical act of lifting, dragging, and carrying. They moved like ants dismantling a storehouse. But there was too much to remove and too little time. Before even two regiments had completed the work, the Japanese returned in force. Enraged, they sent more than a dozen aircraft to bomb the troops carrying off the captured crates, while over a thousand infantrymen rushed in on the ground. Dong Yu immediately ordered the men to abandon what remained and destroy it. Amid deafening explosions, the 60th Division withdrew from Zhangjiayuan. The Japanese pursued hard, driving them back into the mountains before finally stopping. Measured purely in terms of territorial occupation, the action changed little. The Chinese did not hold the depot. They were forced back again. But judged in operational terms, the raid mattered. Supplies had been captured, destroyed, or disrupted. Japanese rear security had been embarrassed. Time and energy had been consumed in response. In a campaign where the Japanese were racing south and depending increasingly on stretched lines, such harassment was not trivial.   After September 23, Yang Sen expanded these efforts. He sent whole divisions to harass the Japanese rear while also dispatching battalions and companies to ambush supply columns and disrupt transport lines. This was not the kind of warfare that produces neat dramatic maps in conventional military histories. The actions were scattered, local, opportunistic, and often inconclusive. Yet precisely for that reason they can be misunderstood. Not every useful military action ends in the destruction of an enemy division. Sometimes its value lies in forcing a stronger opponent to spend attention where he had hoped to spend only momentum. These operations were costly and uncertain. Small Chinese units striking roads and depots risked encirclement or aerial punishment. Yet they possessed one advantage: they did not need to win a grand battle to matter. They needed only to make movement harder, supply more precarious, and the rear less secure.   On September 25, even after the 26th and 37th Armies had suffered defeat elsewhere, Yang Sen gathered the troops that still retained some offensive capacity and launched another attack. In these actions, the 90th Division captured Wukou; the 59th Division reached the north bank of the Miluo River; the 60th Division advanced to Donggang; and elements of the 58th Army controlled the Yuanba–Zheyangqiao highway line by the twenty-sixth. These gains were not the dramatic centerpiece of the campaign. But they formed part of the cumulative pressure on Japanese operations. Every road contested from the rear, every convoy threatened, every depot exposed, and every forced diversion of troops weakened the enemy's ability to convert tactical advance into stable success.   The battlefield was fluid enough that Yang Sen's headquarters itself had to keep moving—from the Miluo River northward to Pingjiang. Mobile headquarters in such conditions lived under constant uncertainty. Reports arrived late or contradictory. Rumors outran facts. The front could bend in unpredictable ways. A command post that seemed safely behind the line in the morning might by afternoon lie only a few kilometers from enemy forces. Years later Mao Jiuyin, who had then served as an operations staff officer under Yang Sen, recalled the old commander's outward behavior in those dangerous days. Yang Sen, Mao remembered, was always joking with the people around him and could still laugh and talk during battle. On one occasion he even joked with his bodyguard about putting chili oil in his tea. To younger staff officers, such behavior appeared almost absurd.   Yet they knew how dangerous their situation often was. Sometimes they were only a few kilometers from the main Japanese forces. There is more than anecdote in this memory. Old commanders often cultivated a style of ease under danger not because they felt no fear, but because they believed visible calm itself was part of command. Men take emotional bearings from those above them. A commander who panics spreads panic faster than any enemy breakthrough. Yang Sen was sixty years old during the Second Battle of Changsha, and he liked to remark that he was five years older than Chiang Kai-shek. Age had not removed him from the front. His function in the campaign was not to shatter the enemy in one decisive frontal blow. It was to persist, reappear, sting, and remain troublesome. The 27th Army Group followed the Japanese nearly all the way to the outskirts of Changsha.   They did not fight many large set-piece engagements. That was never their main value. But the Japanese could not ignore them. If Japanese units turned and tried to hit them directly, they tended to dissolve into the landscape. If the Japanese pushed on and ignored them, they reappeared to sabotage roads, hit supply lines, and create alarms in the rear. Even Japanese official histories later described them memorably. They called them "like a swarm of annoying flies." The phrase was meant as contempt. But as so often happens in war, an insult became an accurate description of effect. If these Chinese troops could not be tigers in formal battle, they could still become intolerable as flies. And under certain conditions—fatigue, heat, uncertainty, stretched supply, shaken morale—flies can become more oppressive than an enemy would like to admit.   When later generations look back on campaigns, they often search for a single explanatory image. But the fighting of September 1941 resists reduction to one symbol alone. What gives the campaign its force in memory is not one isolated episode, but the convergence of several pressures at once: a city under threat, a command trying to coordinate multiple fronts, exhausted reinforcements thrown directly into battle, Japanese forces advancing quickly but becoming increasingly vulnerable the farther they pushed, and Chinese troops in the rear refusing to disappear after defeat. Seen from Chongqing, the campaign was a matter of telegrams, maps, and the management of strategic risk. Seen from the front, it was a matter of thirst, mud, broken fieldworks, sudden bombing, exhausted marching, and the uncertainty of whether the next order meant reinforcement, retreat, or death. Seen from the Japanese side, it was initially an aggressive advance toward an important objective, but one increasingly troubled by stretched supply, difficult terrain, and the persistent reappearance of Chinese forces behind the line of movement.   At the same time, the campaign reveals a Chinese war effort that had become more resilient than in the earliest years of the conflict. The Japanese advance toward Changsha was dangerous and at moments appeared close to success. Chinese blocking forces suffered severe defeats. Units arrived exhausted and were hurled into action at once. Commanders lost men at devastating rates. Changsha itself briefly fell into enemy hands. And yet the city was not simply surrendered as an accomplished fact. Chinese forces regrouped. Orders were coordinated across war zones. Reinforcements marched at desperate speed. Counterattacks were mounted. Forces west of the Xiang prepared and crossed back into the city. Elsewhere, troops under Yang Sen gnawed at the Japanese rear and made advance more costly than a map of front lines alone might suggest. This combination of desperate frontal resistance and incessant rear harassment was one of the characteristic strengths of China's resistance in this stage of the war. China could not always match Japanese power in one concentrated blow. But it could absorb, delay, fragment, and trouble that power across space and time. That is why the struggle around Changsha in late September 1941 deserves to be remembered not merely as a sequence of engagements, but as a layered event in which tactical battle, morale, logistics, political endurance, and international context all converged.   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 late September 1941, Japan pushed deeper into China, but Chinese forces—supported gradually by international help—kept resisting. Changsha in Hunan became the central point of the conflict, seen as vital to strategic control in south-central China. Meanwhile, elsewhere in Hunan and Hubei, Yang Sen's 27th Army Group—often using smaller, opportunistic actions—reappeared behind Japanese lines to disrupt depots and convoys. Even when Chinese gains were temporary, the cumulative pressure delayed Japanese momentum.       

China's summer travel rush is in full swing.国内暑期出行热潮全面开启。The national railway operator expects to handle 1.01 billion passenger trips over 62 days, and aviation bookings have hit new highs.国家铁路集团预计，62 天暑运期间旅客发送量将达 10.1 亿人次，民航机票预订量也创下新高。Beyond the sheer numbers, the boom is reshaping the country's cultural tourism landscape.除去亮眼的数据，这场出行热潮正在重塑国内文旅产业格局。In the first three days since the rush began on July 1, national railways carried more than 38 million passengers, according to China State Railway Group.据中国国家铁路集团有限公司消息，7 月 1 日暑运启动后的前三天，全国铁路累计发送旅客超 3800 万人次。Aviation data platform Umetrip showed over 27 million domestic flight bookings for July as of July 6, up 89 percent from a week earlier.民航数据平台航旅纵横数据显示，截至 7 月 6 日，7 月国内机票预订量超 2700 万张，较一周前增长 89%。International bookings exceeded 5.9 million, up 19 percent.国际机票预订量超 590 万张，同比上涨 19%。On July 5, travel platform Qunar recorded searches for summer flights doubling from the previous day, setting a new daily record for the season.7 月 5 日，旅游平台去哪儿网暑期航班搜索量较前一日翻倍，创下暑期单日搜索新高。The real story is not how many people are traveling, but where they are heading.本次出行热潮的核心看点不在于出行人次，而在于游客的目的地选择。Incremental traffic is flowing more to smaller cities rather than traditional tourism hubs.新增客流更多流向中小城市，而非传统热门旅游城市。Flight bookings to Qinhuangdao in Hebei province surged 2.2 times, while Yili, in the Xinjiang Uygur autonomous region, emerged as the top self-drive destination with popularity up 6.5 times, according to Qunar.去哪儿网数据显示，飞往河北秦皇岛的机票预订量暴涨 2.2 倍；新疆伊犁成为热门自驾目的地，搜索热度大涨 6.5 倍。Airlines have responded by adding routes to match the shift.各大航司顺势增开航线，适配游客出行方向的变化。China Eastern Airlines has increased Shanghai-Urumqi round-trip flights by 51 percent and seating capacity by 30 percent.东方航空将上海往返乌鲁木齐的航班班次提升 51%，运力提升 30%。After its Shanghai-Yining route was relocated to the Hongqiao hub, flight frequency surged 130 percent year-on-year and now operates daily.东航上海至伊宁航线调整至虹桥机场起降后，航班班次同比大增 130%，现已实现每日一班。"Unlike the rapid recovery period of the past two years, this summer rush marks civil aviation's transition from full recovery to high-quality development. The market logic is shifting from competing on capacity to competing on efficiency," said an expert with flight data platform Flight Manager.航班数据平台飞常准相关专家表示：“和前两年行业快速复苏阶段不同，今年暑运标志着民航业从全面复苏转向高质量发展。市场竞争逻辑也从比拼运力，转变为比拼运营效率。”What draws travelers to these lesser-known places is increasingly cultural rather than scenic.吸引游客奔赴小众目的地的核心驱动力，正从自然风光转向人文底蕴。Searches for intangible cultural heritage destinations rose 71 percent from the previous month as of June 12, according to travel platform Tongcheng, which noted that travelers are flocking to Jingdezhen in Jiangxi province, Quanzhou in Fujian province and Dali in Yunnan province, drawn by the idea of "traveling to a city for a craft".旅游平台同程旅行数据显示，截至 6 月 12 日，非遗文化目的地搜索量较上月上涨 71%。平台表示，不少游客秉持 “为一门手艺奔赴一座城” 的想法，前往江西景德镇、福建泉州、云南大理等地游玩。Research tours have evolved from sightseeing to immersion, with industrial tourism searches surging 2.3 times, according to Qunar.去哪儿网数据显示，研学旅行已从走马观花式观光转变为深度沉浸式体验，工业旅游相关搜索量暴涨 2.3 倍。Regional carriers are tapping the trend: China Express Airlines has launched themed products including Silk Road research tours in Dunhuang and Jiayuguan in Gansu province, and red tourism routes in Yan'an, Shaanxi province, while Juneyao Airlines has resumed flights to cultural destinations like Dunhuang, Jiayuguan and Xining.多家支线航空企业抢抓这一市场热潮：华夏航空推出多款主题研学产品，包含甘肃敦煌、嘉峪关丝路研学线路，以及陕西延安红色旅游专线；吉祥航空则恢复了飞往敦煌、嘉峪关、西宁等文化旅游目的地的航线。"Travelers increasingly value the experience itself, and airlines are responding with differentiated products that weave local culture into the journey," said Li Xiaojin, director of the Aviation Economics and Improvement Research Institute at Civil Aviation University of China.中国民航大学航空经济与优化研究所所长李晓津表示：“如今游客愈发看重出行体验本身，各大航司也顺势推出差异化产品，将各地特色文化融入旅途之中。”Active policy support underpins this cultural turn.文旅出行的转型离不开政策的大力扶持。In June, eight government departments, including the Ministry of Commerce and the Ministry of Culture and Tourism, issued joint measures to promote rail-tourism integration and expand service consumption.今年 6 月，商务部、文化和旅游部等八部门联合出台举措，推动铁路与旅游深度融合，扩大服务消费。Themed tourist trains are now running regularly. These include a panda-themed train through Sichuan province, a "Yangtze Delta Star" route, and a "Yichun" forest wellness train to Heilongjiang province, among others, China Railway announced.国铁集团介绍，多款主题旅游列车现已常态化开行，其中包括穿行四川的熊猫主题列车、“长三角之星” 旅游专列，以及开往黑龙江伊春的森林康养专列等。The fusion extends to aviation as well. "Many airlines have shifted from focusing solely on trunk routes to coordinating trunk and branch services, and from pure price competition to differentiated products and services," Li said.文旅融合的趋势同样延伸至民航领域。李晓津表示：“不少航司不再单一布局干线航线，转而统筹干线与支线网络；行业竞争也摆脱单纯的价格战，转向差异化产品与服务比拼。”The reshaping extends beyond China's borders. The outbound market is surging, and the FIFA World Cup 2026 co-hosted by the United States, Canada and Mexico provided an extra boost.文旅市场格局的重塑同样延伸至境外游领域。出境游市场热度持续攀升，由美国、加拿大、墨西哥联合承办的 2026 年国际足联世界杯进一步拉动出境出行需求。China Southern Airlines now operates seven North American routes with 38 weekly flights to meet demand.为匹配市场需求，南方航空现已开通 7 条北美航线，每周执行 38 班航班。immersion /ɪˈmɜːʃn/n. 沉浸式体验；沉浸capacity /kəˈpæsəti/n. 运力；容量integration /ˌɪntɪˈɡreɪʃn/n. 融合；一体化outbound /ˈaʊtbaʊnd/adj. 出境的；向外的

Heute klingt "Welt.Macht.China" ein bisschen anders als sonst. Wir sind in der Sommerpause. Und in unserem Sommerspezial schauen wir in einem etwas anderen Format auf den chinesischen Landesteil Sichuan. Darin erzählen wir verschiedene Geschichten aus Chengdu, der Hauptstadt des Landesteils Sichuans. Und das in einem etwas anderen Format als sonst in Kooperation mit dem Bayerischen Rundfunk. Es gibt Reportagen von unserer ARD Korrespondentin Eva Lamby-Schmitt über die Pandas in Chengdu, die Hiphop-Szene und LGBTIQ+ Community dort, die Kultur der Teehäuser und die Sichuan Küche. China-Experte Felix Lee spricht über die besonderen Beziehungen zwischen Bayern und Sichuan. Und ganz besonders dieses Mal: Zwischendurch hört ihr chinesischen Pop und Rock.   "Welt.Macht.China" ist der China-Podcast der ARD. Aktuelle und ehemalige Korrespondent*innen und Expert*innen haben sich zusammengetan, um einen vielfältigen Einblick in das riesige Land zu geben. Es geht um Politik, Wirtschaft, Kultur, das Leben und den Alltag in der Volksrepublik, außerdem um Klischees und Chinas Rolle in der Welt. Eine neue Folge gibt es ab September wieder jeden zweiten Dienstag unter anderem in ARD Sounds: https://www.ardsounds.de/sendung/welt-macht-china/urn:ard:show:b5d8f07b1baa22d0/ Ihr habt Anmerkungen, Lob und Kritik? Schreibt uns an weltmachtchina@ard.de.

小紅書 Xiǎohóngshū - Xiaohongshu / RedNote, a popular Chinese social media app特色 tèsè - special feature; unique characteristic零食 língshí - snacks進駐 jìnzhù - to enter and establish presence in a place/market團購 tuángòu - group buying網購 wǎnggòu - online shopping平台 píngtái - platform自然而然 zì rán ér rán - naturally; automatically引進 yǐnjìn - to introduce/import something from another place螺螄粉 luósīfěn - Luosifen; spicy rice noodles with a strong smell from pickled bamboo shoots話題度 huàtídù - level of public attention/discussion大排長龍 dà pái cháng lóng - to line up in a long queue爽 shuǎng - refreshing; satisfying燙 tàng - hot (temperature)醃製 yānzhì - to pickle; to preserve with salt酸筍 suānsǔn - pickled bamboo shoots竹筍 zhúsǔn - bamboo shoots抹布 mǒbù - cleaning rag; dishcloth口感 kǒugǎn - texture/mouthfeel of foodQ彈 Q tán - chewy and bouncy texture韌勁 rènjìn - toughness; chewy resistance爛 làn - mushy; overcooked and soft炸腐竹 zhá fǔzhú - fried tofu skin sticks酸豆角 suān dòujiǎo - pickled long beans木耳絲 mù ěr sī - shredded wood ear mushrooms花生米 huāshēngmǐ - peanuts酸辣粉 suānlàfěn - hot and sour glass noodles麻麻的 má má de - numbing sensation (usually from Sichuan peppercorn)醋 cù - vinegar辣椒油 làjiāoyóu - chili oil花椒 huājiāo - Sichuan peppercorn強烈 qiángliè - strong; intense壞掉 huàidiào - to go bad; spoiled過癮 guòyǐn - extremely satisfying; gratifying紅薯 hóngshǔ / 地瓜 dìguā - sweet potato粉條 fěntiáo - starch noodles/vermicelli半透明 bàntòumíng - semi-transparent軟軟糯糯的 ruǎnruǎn nuònuò de - soft, sticky, and chewy嚼勁 jiáojìn - chewiness消化 xiāohuà - to digest腸胃 chángwèi - stomach and intestines; digestive system弱 ruò - weak麵食 miànshí - noodle- or flour-based foods魔芋爽 móyùshuǎng - spicy konjac snack strips校園 xiàoyuán - campus; school campus泡椒 pàojiāo - pickled chili peppers蒟蒻 jǔruò - konjac jelly/konjac plant脆 cuì - crispy; crunchy咬下去 yǎo xiàqù - to bite into something下酒菜 xiàjiǔcài - dishes/snacks eaten while drinking alcoholFollow me on Instagram: fangfang.chineselearning !

This week on Sinica, a rare treat: an in-person recording from Beijing with two dear friends who happen to be two of the very best in the business on technology and China — Samm Sacks and Paul Triolo, fresh off the exhibition floor of the World Artificial Intelligence Conference in Shanghai. We dig into Xi Jinping's first in-person WAIC appearance and his most extensive statement on AI to date, the launch of the World AI Cooperation Organization, Moonshot's release of Kimi K3, the Trump administration's reported push to shut Chinese open-weight models out of the U.S. market, the coming age of agents, the untranslatable problem of ānquán, and what to expect from the first U.S.-China AI dialogue in September.8:51 – The view from the floor: heat, humidity, robot boxing grandmas, WeChat-gated free water, and the "AI+" vibe — why WAIC 2026 felt less like an AI conference than a sector-by-sector snapshot of China's entire economy being supercharged with AI, with attendance swelling to some 200,000 tickets16:32 – Why Xi showed up: what the leader's first in-person WAIC appearance and his most extensive AI statement to date signal, and why domestic drivers matter as much as geopolitics18:01 – Chapter and verse: which phrases from the speech will be put to work in the system — "secure and orderly development" and the governance of agents, and Xi's strikingly extensive language on AI safety after China was frozen out of the Paris process22:26 – The ānquán problem: one word meaning both "safety" and "security," the three buckets of AI risk, and how China's safety community has moved from bias and deepfakes toward CBRN and loss-of-control concerns — Black Mirror versus Star Trek28:14 – Shanghai's baby: how WAIC's ownership structure differs from the CAC-run World Internet Conference in Wuzhen, Chen Jining's very visible host duties, and whether the center of gravity in AI policy is shifting to the Yangtze River Delta30:05 – WAICO: what the new World AI Cooperation Organization with its 29 founding members is actually for, Xi's concrete deliverables for the Global South — 5,000 AI training slots, regional cooperation centers, the MAZU early-warning system — and healthy skepticism about follow-through34:39 – Kimi K3: what's technically significant in Moonshot's big new model, why it's the fourth arguably frontier-class Chinese release in a single month, the two-way traffic in distillation accusations, and what it all says about the state of the frontier gap four years into export controls40:33 – Washington reacts: the reported menu of options for shutting Chinese open-weight models out of the U.S. — entity listings, a draft executive order, supply-chain security authorities — and why none of the tools actually fit the problem49:36 – Strange bedfellows: David Sacks versus the "closed lab duopoly," the FUD strategy, why some 80% of Andreessen Horowitz portfolio companies reportedly run on Chinese open models, and how gating U.S. frontier models while Chinese weights flow freely supercharges the AI sovereignty argument worldwide54:55 – The model is infrastructure, the agent is the product: the ByteDance–ZTE agentic phone, the CAC's new initiative on agent trust and interoperability, and why agents fused into operating systems upend both super-app walled gardens and China's data protection regime1:02:27 – An exegesis of kěkòng: the many meanings of "controllable," the long history of ānquán kěkòng in Chinese tech policy, and the unanswered question of who — CAC, NDRC, or somebody new — actually owns AI safety in either system1:08:54 – The road to September: what to expect from the first U.S.-China AI dialogue, why Mythos tops the Chinese grievance list, the securitization feedback loop that starves trust-and-safety advocates of resources on both sides, and why recursive self-improvement makes this feel like a last, best chancePaying It ForwardPaul nominates Tony Peng, whose Substack RecodeChinaAI offers sharp, well-written analysis of the application side of China's AI industry — part of an impressive new generation of independent China tech writers. Samm gives a shout-out to Professor Zhu Yue of Tongji University Law School, published in Science and doing pioneering work at the intersection of disability law and AI law.RecommendationsSamm: The Land and Its People by David Sedaris — laugh-out-loud funny, especially the "Enough is Enough" chapter; Transcription by Ben Lerner, a perfect small novel about fathers, sons, memory, and technology as enabler or disabler of connection; and Didion and Babitz, on Joan Didion and Eve Babitz and the 1970s California rock scene.Paul: The Party's Interests Come First by Joseph Torigian — dense but beautifully written, and essential for understanding the current Chinese leadership.Kaiser: A fiction-only summer! Stoner by John Williams, a small life told most grandly in some of the most beautiful sentence-level writing anywhere; Gilead by Marilynne Robinson, an epistolary novel dense with distilled wisdom from a dying Iowa minister; and Wang Xiaobo's The Golden Age (黄金时代) in Yan Yan's excellent new translation — bawdy, hilarious, and super Beijing-y despite its Cultural Revolution setting.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

DAVE LOVES DENVER HAS SUGGESTIONS And if you haven’t watched Dave Chung’s super fun YouTube channel you should. Today he joins us at 2:30 to talk noodle shops, authentic Sichuan, and a French bakery! Here is out list for today: Monarch (fancy pizza in historic building by chef of Somebody People) 17 Szechuan Taste (authentic sichuan food in the north burbs) Maison Shelby (french pastry shop that went viral) Joy Lounge in Greenwood Village (Chinese breakfast popup on weekends) China Cafe in Aurora (this summer, they’re serving a unique cold noodle dish that they don’t have during other parts of the year - trying it out today!) Find his website here, his show on Youtube here, and now that TikTok isn’t owned by Chinese communists, find that here. I love this guy and his enthusiasm for the places he visits is infectious!See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

In 2008, artist and activist Ai Weiwei clashed with the Chinese government over its response to the deadly Sichuan earthquake. The government had censored information about the death toll, so Ai Weiwei launched a citizen's investigation, knocking on doors and visiting villages to learn the names of the thousands of children who died. More recently, the artist has also become critical of political censorship in the United States. In today's episode, he joins Here & Now's Scott Tong for a conversation about his new book On Censorship, a critique of censorship under both democratic and authoritarian governments.To listen to Book of the Day sponsor-free and support NPR's book coverage, sign up for Book of the Day+ at plus.npr.org/bookofthedaySee pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for sponsorship and to manage your podcast sponsorship preferences.NPR Privacy Policy

High temperatures forecast in large parts of China in the next few days未来数日，我国大范围区域将迎来高温天气China's health and weather authorities issued nationwide heat health alerts on Monday as an unusually warm and humid flood season fuels widespread heat across much of the country, with temperatures forecast to exceed 40 C in some areas over the coming days.受汛期异常闷热潮湿的气候影响，国内多地大范围遭遇酷暑，国家卫健与气象主管部门于周一发布全国高温健康预警，预计未来部分地区气温将突破40摄氏度。Since the start of the annual flood season, China has experienced a markedly warm and humid weather pattern.自本年度汛期开启以来，我国整体气候呈现出显著高温高湿的特征。The national average temperature reached 17.5 C, 0.9 C above normal and the third-highest for the period since 1961, while average precipitation stood at 264.2 millimeters, 6.1 percent above normal, according to Chen Lijuan from the National Climate Center.国家气候中心专家陈丽娟介绍，全国平均气温达到17.5摄氏度，较常年同期偏高0.9℃，为1961年以来同期第三高温；全国平均降水量264.2毫米，相较常年均值多出6.1%。The National Disease Control and Prevention Administration and the China Meteorological Administration jointly issued a heat health risk alert on Monday evening, warning that conditions ranging from relatively high to extremely high health risks would affect much of China between Monday night and Tuesday night.国家疾控局与中国气象局在周一晚间联合发布高温健康风险预警，警示周一夜间至周二晚间，国内大部分区域将会面临中高乃至极高等级的高温健康隐患。The highest red-level alert was issued for parts of Hubei province, Chongqing and the Inner Mongolia autonomous region.湖北局部、重庆以及内蒙古自治区部分地区已经发布最高等级的红色高温预警。Authorities urged residents to stay indoors in cool environments, avoid outdoor activities during peak heat hours and drink enough water.官方呼吁市民尽量待在阴凉的室内环境，避开一天中的高温峰值时段外出活动，同时及时补充饮水。Vulnerable groups, including people with chronic illnesses, were advised to pay close attention to their health and seek medical assistance if necessary.相关部门建议慢性病患者等易感人群密切监测自身身体状况，身体不适时及时就医。The National Meteorological Center, on Tuesday, renewed a yellow alert for high temperatures, forecasting highs of 35 C to 36 C across large parts of the country, with temperatures in parts of southwestern Chongqing expected to exceed 40 C.国家气象中心于周二继续发布高温黄色预警，预报国内多数地区最高气温维持在35至36摄氏度，西南重镇重庆的局部区域气温将突破40℃。Chen Tao, chief forecaster at the National Meteorological Center, said that after Tropical Storm Bavi moved northward, the subtropical high-pressure system strengthened and gradually merged with continental high pressure, creating conditions for intensifying heat across areas including the Sichuan Basin and the Jianghan Plain in Hubei.国家气象中心首席预报员陈涛表示，巴威热带风暴北上过后，副热带高压不断增强，并逐步和大陆高压合体，促使四川盆地、湖北江汉平原等地的高温天气持续加剧。"The latest round of heat in southern China is expected to last four to five days, until around July 18," he said.他称，本轮华南高温天气预计将会持续四至五天，大概在7月18日前后才会缓解。Chongqing authorities have stepped up heat protection measures for residents, workers and animals.重庆各地主管部门已经加码落实针对市民、户外劳动者以及动植物的防暑保障工作。The city's housing department has ordered construction companies to suspend all outdoor work when the daily maximum temperature reaches 40 C or above to ensure workplace safety.当地住建部门规定，日最高气温达到40℃及以上时，施工企业必须全面叫停室外作业，保障务工人员的人身安全。The city has also opened 44 underground civil air defense facilities as free cooling shelters since July 5. Operating daily from 10 am to 9 pm, the shelters provide drinking water, seating and heat-relief supplies.自7月5日起，重庆开放44处人防地下空间作为免费纳凉点。纳凉点每日上午10点至晚间9点对外开放，免费提供饮用水、休息座位以及各类防暑物资。At Locajoy Theme Park's Wildlife World in Yongchuan district, animals from cooler high-altitude regions of Eurasia and the Americas have received additional protection from the heat.在重庆乐和乐都野生动物世界里，来自欧亚、美洲高海拔寒凉地区的野生动物都配套了专项防暑方案。According to Liu Xiaolin, deputy general manager of the park's Wildlife World Division, the park has installed sunshades, misting systems and pools in animal enclosures, while air conditioning is provided for indoor animals such as giant pandas.园区野生动物板块副总经理刘晓琳介绍，园区在动物展区搭建遮阳棚、喷雾降温设备以及戏水水池；大熊猫等室内饲养动物还可以享受空调降温。The scorching temperatures have also disrupted travel plans. Lan Bin, a sophomore at Chongqing University, and her mother, who traveled from Zhejiang province to visit her, abandoned their daytime sightseeing plans after encountering temperatures above 40 C.酷热的气温同样打乱了出游计划。重庆大学大二学生蓝斌的母亲专程从浙江前来探望，二人因为四十多度的高温，放弃了白天外出游览的安排。Instead, they visited museums, watched Sichuan opera and enjoyed evening meals.二人转而选择逛博物馆、观看川剧，等到傍晚气温回落再出门就餐。Lan said the most practical way to cope with Chongqing's current heat is to stay indoors with air conditioning during the day and schedule outdoor activities after sunset.蓝斌表示，应对重庆酷暑最稳妥的办法就是白天待在空调房中，日落之后再安排户外活动。In Wuhan, capital of Hubei province, the heatwave has driven electricity demand to record levels. The city's power grid load reached a historic high of 18.11 million kilowatts at noon on Tuesday, exceeding last year's peak by 62,900 kW amid an orange heat alert.湖北省会武汉的热浪使得用电负荷创下新高。在高温橙色预警生效期间，周二正午当地电网负荷飙升至1811万千瓦，刷新历史纪录，相较去年用电峰值高出6.29万千瓦。The State Grid Wuhan Power Supply Company said 24 key projects designed to strengthen electricity supplies during the summer peak season have been completed to help meet rising household demand.国网武汉供电公司介绍，24项保障夏季用电高峰的重点工程已经全部竣工，以此承接持续上涨的居民用电需求。Local authorities have also reminded residents and businesses to guard against electrical fires caused by overloaded equipment during periods of heavy power consumption.当地部门同时提醒居民和各类商户，用电高峰期谨防设备负载过载，避免引发电气火灾。precipitation /prɪˌsɪpɪˈteɪʃn/降水量，降雨量vulnerable /ˈvʌlnərəbl/容易受到高温侵害的，体质偏弱的subtropical /ˌsʌbˈtrɒpɪkl/亚热带的scorching /ˈskɔːtʃɪŋ/极度炎热的enclosure /ɪnˈkləʊʒə(r)/动物饲养圈、围栏场地overload /ˌəʊvəˈləʊd/超负荷运转

CrossPolitic One-on-One — Show Notes: China Update with Missionary Ben On this episode of CrossPolitic One-on-One, the Waterboy sits down with Missionary Ben — host of China Compass on the Fight Laugh Feast Network and himself a deportee from China — for an update on the underground church. The conversation covers Pastor Ezra Jin's miraculous July 4th release from prison (and the eight still behind bars), the latest crackdown on Pastor Wang Yi's church network, how Christians should think about doing business with China, and what the American church can learn from brothers and sisters who are forced to make hard decisions for their faith every single day. Timestamps 03:35 — Intro — Fight Laugh Feast conference update and Business Makers Network 07:06 — Meet Missionary Ben — deported from China, host of China Compass 08:11 — Pastor Ezra Jin: from Tiananmen Square to Zion Church — and his July 4th release 10:32 — How Zion Church grew and why it became a target — the 2008 Sichuan earthquake and Xi Jinping's crackdown 12:22 — October 2024: Jin's arrest, the simultaneous network raid, and the eight still in prison 13:04 — Did Trump broker the release? The May meeting with Xi and why this one worked when others haven't 14:45 — Jin's Wall Street Journal op-ed: "I'm Free Now. Pray for China." — Hebrews 13:3 16:19 — Zion Church splits into house churches — and may now be larger than before the arrest 17:22 — Why not just join the state-sanctioned church? — a stopgap, not a home 18:16 — How should Christians think about doing business with China? 21:05 — What can ordinary believers do? — going to China, sharing the gospel, meeting the church 23:32 — How should Trump engage Xi? — befriending, influencing those around him, holding cards close 26:46 — What the American church can learn from the underground church in China 28:43 — Pastor Wang Yi update — seven and a half years in, sentence nearing end, no word from him directly 30:01 — Recent crackdown: 50 SWAT officers at a Wang Yi church plant, 20–30 arrested 32:22 — Missionary Ben's book Unbeaten, Mission Catalyst, and the Malaysia conference for Chinese house church leaders Connect with Missionary Ben Podcast: China Compass (weekends) & Prison Pulpit Series (midweek) Network: Fight Laugh Feast Network — available in the FLF app Book: Unbeaten — $4 on Amazon Ministry: Mission Catalyst International — training indigenous pastors and missionaries Give: mci3.org Fight Laugh Feast 2026: Holy Wars Join us October 1–3 in Franklin, Tennessee at The Factory in Franklin for the Fight Laugh Feast Conference. This year's theme is Holy Wars — Just War, the Crusades, and the Christian Life. Featuring Doug Wilson, Joe Boot, Pastor Toby, Ben Merkel, Jared Longshore, and more. Pre-business makers conference Thursday 1–5 PM. Pastor/church leadership luncheon Friday. Business luncheon Saturday. Booths are nearly full — sponsorship opportunities still available. Tickets: https://tickets.flfnetwork.com/holy-wars-conference Sponsorship inquiries: waterboy@crosspolitic.com Also Mentioned Business Makers Network A network for courageous Christian business leaders — building a Christian economy for the good of businesses, churches, and America. Over 100 members, quarterly CEO calls, and a national conference each May. Website: businessmakers.network Contact: waterboy@crosspolitic.com About CrossPolitic CrossPolitic exists to put Jesus over Politics and reclaim the public square through bold, joyful, biblically grounded media. We confront the chaos discipling America and build the next generation of Christian media infrastructure. Our mission is simple: all of Christ for all of media for all of America. Mainstream media is collapsing. Eighty-seven percent of journalists identify as progressive, and even many conservative outlets prioritize profit over principle. Meanwhile, billions of hours of digital content are discipling the world every day. CrossPolitic stands in that gap, producing courageous, entertaining, truth-filled media for households, churches, and leaders across the nation. Become a CrossPolitic Club Member Support the mission and unlock exclusive content, behind-the-scenes shows, and theology series. https://pubtv.flfnetwork.com/menu/checkout Subscribe & Share! Every like, comment, and share helps push Christian media back into the algorithm where it belongs. Follow CrossPolitic YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@CROSSPOLITIC X: https://x.com/CrossPolitic Facebook: https://facebook.com/crosspolitic Instagram: https://instagram.com/crosspolitic Join our Email List: https://crosspolitic.com/ Available on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, NRBTV, DirecTV, Dish, and everywhere podcasts are found. #CrossPolitic #ChinaChurch #UndergroundChurch #PastorEzraJin #WangYi #MissionaryBen #ChristianPersecution #ChristianMedia

CrossPolitic One-on-One — Show Notes: China Update with Missionary Ben On this episode of CrossPolitic One-on-One, the Waterboy sits down with Missionary Ben — host of China Compass on the Fight Laugh Feast Network and himself a deportee from China — for an update on the underground church. The conversation covers Pastor Ezra Jin's miraculous July 4th release from prison (and the eight still behind bars), the latest crackdown on Pastor Wang Yi's church network, how Christians should think about doing business with China, and what the American church can learn from brothers and sisters who are forced to make hard decisions for their faith every single day. Timestamps 03:35 — Intro — Fight Laugh Feast conference update and Business Makers Network 07:06 — Meet Missionary Ben — deported from China, host of China Compass 08:11 — Pastor Ezra Jin: from Tiananmen Square to Zion Church — and his July 4th release 10:32 — How Zion Church grew and why it became a target — the 2008 Sichuan earthquake and Xi Jinping's crackdown 12:22 — October 2024: Jin's arrest, the simultaneous network raid, and the eight still in prison 13:04 — Did Trump broker the release? The May meeting with Xi and why this one worked when others haven't 14:45 — Jin's Wall Street Journal op-ed: "I'm Free Now. Pray for China." — Hebrews 13:3 16:19 — Zion Church splits into house churches — and may now be larger than before the arrest 17:22 — Why not just join the state-sanctioned church? — a stopgap, not a home 18:16 — How should Christians think about doing business with China? 21:05 — What can ordinary believers do? — going to China, sharing the gospel, meeting the church 23:32 — How should Trump engage Xi? — befriending, influencing those around him, holding cards close 26:46 — What the American church can learn from the underground church in China 28:43 — Pastor Wang Yi update — seven and a half years in, sentence nearing end, no word from him directly 30:01 — Recent crackdown: 50 SWAT officers at a Wang Yi church plant, 20–30 arrested 32:22 — Missionary Ben's book Unbeaten, Mission Catalyst, and the Malaysia conference for Chinese house church leaders Connect with Missionary Ben Podcast: China Compass (weekends) & Prison Pulpit Series (midweek) Network: Fight Laugh Feast Network — available in the FLF app Book: Unbeaten — $4 on Amazon Ministry: Mission Catalyst International — training indigenous pastors and missionaries Give: mci3.org Fight Laugh Feast 2026: Holy Wars Join us October 1–3 in Franklin, Tennessee at The Factory in Franklin for the Fight Laugh Feast Conference. This year's theme is Holy Wars — Just War, the Crusades, and the Christian Life. Featuring Doug Wilson, Joe Boot, Pastor Toby, Ben Merkel, Jared Longshore, and more. Pre-business makers conference Thursday 1–5 PM. Pastor/church leadership luncheon Friday. Business luncheon Saturday. Booths are nearly full — sponsorship opportunities still available. Tickets: https://tickets.flfnetwork.com/holy-wars-conference Sponsorship inquiries: waterboy@crosspolitic.com Also Mentioned Business Makers Network A network for courageous Christian business leaders — building a Christian economy for the good of businesses, churches, and America. Over 100 members, quarterly CEO calls, and a national conference each May. Website: businessmakers.network Contact: waterboy@crosspolitic.com About CrossPolitic CrossPolitic exists to put Jesus over Politics and reclaim the public square through bold, joyful, biblically grounded media. We confront the chaos discipling America and build the next generation of Christian media infrastructure. Our mission is simple: all of Christ for all of media for all of America. Mainstream media is collapsing. Eighty-seven percent of journalists identify as progressive, and even many conservative outlets prioritize profit over principle. Meanwhile, billions of hours of digital content are discipling the world every day. CrossPolitic stands in that gap, producing courageous, entertaining, truth-filled media for households, churches, and leaders across the nation. Become a CrossPolitic Club Member Support the mission and unlock exclusive content, behind-the-scenes shows, and theology series. https://pubtv.flfnetwork.com/menu/checkout Subscribe & Share! Every like, comment, and share helps push Christian media back into the algorithm where it belongs. Follow CrossPolitic YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@CROSSPOLITIC X: https://x.com/CrossPolitic Facebook: https://facebook.com/crosspolitic Instagram: https://instagram.com/crosspolitic Join our Email List: https://crosspolitic.com/ Available on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, NRBTV, DirecTV, Dish, and everywhere podcasts are found. #CrossPolitic #ChinaChurch #UndergroundChurch #PastorEzraJin #WangYi #MissionaryBen #ChristianPersecution #ChristianMedia

CrossPolitic One-on-One — Show Notes: China Update with Missionary Ben On this episode of CrossPolitic One-on-One, the Waterboy sits down with Missionary Ben — host of China Compass on the Fight Laugh Feast Network and himself a deportee from China — for an update on the underground church. The conversation covers Pastor Ezra Jin's miraculous July 4th release from prison (and the eight still behind bars), the latest crackdown on Pastor Wang Yi's church network, how Christians should think about doing business with China, and what the American church can learn from brothers and sisters who are forced to make hard decisions for their faith every single day. Timestamps 03:35 — Intro — Fight Laugh Feast conference update and Business Makers Network 07:06 — Meet Missionary Ben — deported from China, host of China Compass 08:11 — Pastor Ezra Jin: from Tiananmen Square to Zion Church — and his July 4th release 10:32 — How Zion Church grew and why it became a target — the 2008 Sichuan earthquake and Xi Jinping's crackdown 12:22 — October 2024: Jin's arrest, the simultaneous network raid, and the eight still in prison 13:04 — Did Trump broker the release? The May meeting with Xi and why this one worked when others haven't 14:45 — Jin's Wall Street Journal op-ed: "I'm Free Now. Pray for China." — Hebrews 13:3 16:19 — Zion Church splits into house churches — and may now be larger than before the arrest 17:22 — Why not just join the state-sanctioned church? — a stopgap, not a home 18:16 — How should Christians think about doing business with China? 21:05 — What can ordinary believers do? — going to China, sharing the gospel, meeting the church 23:32 — How should Trump engage Xi? — befriending, influencing those around him, holding cards close 26:46 — What the American church can learn from the underground church in China 28:43 — Pastor Wang Yi update — seven and a half years in, sentence nearing end, no word from him directly 30:01 — Recent crackdown: 50 SWAT officers at a Wang Yi church plant, 20–30 arrested 32:22 — Missionary Ben's book Unbeaten, Mission Catalyst, and the Malaysia conference for Chinese house church leaders Connect with Missionary Ben Podcast: China Compass (weekends) & Prison Pulpit Series (midweek) Network: Fight Laugh Feast Network — available in the FLF app Book: Unbeaten — $4 on Amazon Ministry: Mission Catalyst International — training indigenous pastors and missionaries Give: mci3.org Fight Laugh Feast 2026: Holy Wars Join us October 1–3 in Franklin, Tennessee at The Factory in Franklin for the Fight Laugh Feast Conference. This year's theme is Holy Wars — Just War, the Crusades, and the Christian Life. Featuring Doug Wilson, Joe Boot, Pastor Toby, Ben Merkel, Jared Longshore, and more. Pre-business makers conference Thursday 1–5 PM. Pastor/church leadership luncheon Friday. Business luncheon Saturday. Booths are nearly full — sponsorship opportunities still available. Tickets: https://tickets.flfnetwork.com/holy-wars-conference Sponsorship inquiries: waterboy@crosspolitic.com Also Mentioned Business Makers Network A network for courageous Christian business leaders — building a Christian economy for the good of businesses, churches, and America. Over 100 members, quarterly CEO calls, and a national conference each May. Website: businessmakers.network Contact: waterboy@crosspolitic.com About CrossPolitic CrossPolitic exists to put Jesus over Politics and reclaim the public square through bold, joyful, biblically grounded media. We confront the chaos discipling America and build the next generation of Christian media infrastructure. Our mission is simple: all of Christ for all of media for all of America. Mainstream media is collapsing. Eighty-seven percent of journalists identify as progressive, and even many conservative outlets prioritize profit over principle. Meanwhile, billions of hours of digital content are discipling the world every day. CrossPolitic stands in that gap, producing courageous, entertaining, truth-filled media for households, churches, and leaders across the nation. Become a CrossPolitic Club Member Support the mission and unlock exclusive content, behind-the-scenes shows, and theology series. https://pubtv.flfnetwork.com/menu/checkout Subscribe & Share! Every like, comment, and share helps push Christian media back into the algorithm where it belongs. Follow CrossPolitic YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@CROSSPOLITIC X: https://x.com/CrossPolitic Facebook: https://facebook.com/crosspolitic Instagram: https://instagram.com/crosspolitic Join our Email List: https://crosspolitic.com/ Available on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, NRBTV, DirecTV, Dish, and everywhere podcasts are found. #CrossPolitic #ChinaChurch #UndergroundChurch #PastorEzraJin #WangYi #MissionaryBen #ChristianPersecution #ChristianMedia

This week on Sinica, in a special episode recorded at the Davos On Air booth at the World Economic Forum's Annual Meeting of the New Champions in Dalian, I sat down with Angela Huyue Zhang, professor of law at USC's Gould School of Law and author of High Wire: How China Regulates Big Tech and Governs Its Economy, and S. Alex Yang, professor of management science and operations at London Business School. Angela and Alex — who are also married, and who arrived at this collaboration from opposite ends of the academy — have developed what I think is one of the most useful new mental models for understanding China's political economy: the platform state. Their argument is that we should think of the Chinese state less as a central planner or owner and more as a platform company like NVIDIA or Apple, one that builds architecture, sets standards, and governs an ecosystem within which fiercely competitive private firms fight it out. Value accrues at the system level rather than as firm profit, and the payoff may decide who wins the race to put AI to work across an entire economy.5:37 – Three puzzles the framework is built to solve: profitless dominance in solar, EVs, and batteries; why the "grabbing hand" hasn't strangled Chinese innovation; and how China is attempting both zero-to-one invention and one-to-hundred scaling at once7:57 – The platform state thesis: why the Chinese government behaves like a platform company, how nurturing an ecosystem of private firms solves the information deficit that cripples command-and-control, and why over-entry, involution, and consolidation are a repeated pattern — from EVs to the 140-plus humanoid robot companies operating today16:13 – The aha moment: how a paper on the legal infrastructure of physical AI became the platform state idea over the Zhang-Yang dinner table, and whether this is a new species of political economy or the East Asian developmental state in new clothes20:44 – State conditions: why state capacity and domestic scale are the two preconditions for the model, and why an ambitious Vietnam — which has the top-down capacity — may still find the Chinese playbook impossible to replicate23:39 – Profitless dominance by design: harvesting versus extracting, the Uber analogy, overshooting as a control-theory strategy for nudging sectors, and how the anti-involution campaign and the 60-day supplier payment mandate show the state moderating the very competition it engineered30:33 – Organized chaos: from the bike-sharing graveyards of the O2O wars to today's disciplined market, the exit of more than 400 EV makers since 2018, and why the survivors of China's "Premier League" of competition are now turning profitable32:59 – The 3Gs playbook: growing markets by solving the cold-start problem, from Liuzhou's EV test drives to Beijing's green license plates, and how subsidy is only one lever among many38:36 – Governing the ecosystem like Apple runs its App Store: why Beijing regulates generative AI with a light touch but physical AI is a different species entirely, law as the sixth layer of the AI stack, why robotaxis scale faster in China than in the U.S., and the state-convened standard-setting that's driving down humanoid robot costs46:54 – Two flywheels: the familiar data-and-cost flywheel and the deeper state capacity flywheel, and how the National AI Fund's small but voting stake in DeepSeek aligns a complementor with the domestic stack — tilting the ecosystem toward Chinese chips53:28 – Guarding the moat: automotive data rules and Tesla's stalled FSD ambitions, the unwound Manus sale, China's own small yard and high fence, and the closing provocation — that America could build the smartest frontier models and still lose the diffusion race to "artificial good-enough intelligence." Plus: the case for coopetition, and what policymakers should (and shouldn't) borrow from the platform stateLinks from the episodeAngela's paper on law as the sixth layer of China's AI stack:The Sixth Layer: The Legal Infrastructure for Physical Artificial Intelligence in China (SSRN)Three Project Syndicate op-eds on the platform state idea:The Rise of the Chinese Platform State by S. Alex Yang & Angela Huyue ZhangAre Government Stakes the Key to AI Sovereignty? by Angela Huyue ZhangOvercapacity Is China's Biggest AI Advantage by Angela Huyue ZhangTwo Management Science papers on commercial platforms:Crowd-Judging on Two-Sided Platforms: An Analysis of In-Group BiasImproving Dispute Resolution in Two-Sided Platforms: The Case of Review BlackmailSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

En marcha Centro LIBRE en Mequixquiac Sichuan registra dos sismos en 24 horasNoruega dio al mundo el rebanador de quesoMás información en nuestro podcast#grc

China's Tian wen 2 asteroid sampling spacecraft has rendezvoused with its target, a near-Earth asteroid called 2016 HO3, and has started to conduct scientific surveys, according to the China National Space Administration.国家航天局消息，中国天问二号小行星采样探测器已抵达目标近地小行星 2016 HO3，开启科学探测工作。The administration announced on Monday that the Tian wen 2 robotic probe reached a position about 20 kilometers away from 2016 HO3 last week, and then started flying alongside the asteroid.该局于周一发布消息称，天问二号无人探测器上周抵达距离 2016 HO3 小行星约 20 公里的轨道位置，随后开启伴飞模式。It also released an image of 2016 HO3, which was taken by the spacecraft's camera.航天局同步发布了探测器搭载相机拍摄的 2016 HO3 小行星实拍影像。Before that point, the spacecraft had traveled around 1 billion km in a 400-day interplanetary journey, the administration noted, adding that in the following steps, the probe will conduct detailed scientific explorations in a phased manner to acquire data on the asteroid's topography, material composition and internal structure to support preparations for the sampling mission.航天局介绍，探测器历时 400 天、飞行约 10 亿公里完成地外星际航行。后续探测器将分阶段开展精细化科学探测，获取小行星地形地貌、物质成分与内部结构相关数据，为采样任务做好前置准备。During its asteroid approach, the Tian wen 2 probe obtained images of the celestial body. The mission team on the ground used optical navigation data, which was collected during the approach process, to refine the asteroid's ephemeris and reduce its position error — previously determined solely by ground-based observations — from hundreds of kilometers down to within a few kilometers, according to the administration.据介绍，天问二号在抵近小行星阶段持续拍摄天体图像。地面测控团队依托抵近过程获取的光学导航数据优化小行星星历，将此前仅依靠地面观测测算、达数百公里的定位误差缩小至数公里以内。The Tianwen 2 mission, which is China's first attempt to bring pristine asteroid samples to Earth, was launched on May 29, 2025, when a Long March 3B rocket carrying the robotic probe blasted off from the Xichang Satellite Launch Center in Sichuan province.天问二号任务是我国首次开展小行星原样采样返回工程。该探测器于 2025 年 5 月 29 日，由长征三号乙运载火箭在四川西昌卫星发射中心发射升空。En route to the asteroid, the probe conducted a series of operations, including deep-space maneuvers and midcourse corrections.在奔赴小行星的飞行途中，探测器完成多轮深空机动与轨道中途修正操作。The craft detected and identified the asteroid for the first time on June 6. The following day, it executed capture control to synchronize its motion with that of the asteroid at a distance of 30,000 km, achieving coplanar flight with the celestial body. It reached a position about 2,000 km from the asteroid on June 19.6 月 6 日，探测器首次捕获并识别目标小行星；次日，探测器在 3 万公里距离处实施捕获控制，实现与小行星同轨共面飞行；6 月 19 日，探测器抵至距离小行星约 2000 公里处。The asteroid 2016 HO3, which is also known as 469219 Kamo'oalewa, orbits the sun and is a constant companion of Earth. It is too distant to be considered a true satellite of Earth, but is the best and most stable example to date of a quasi-satellite.编号 2016 HO3 的小行星又名 469219 卡莫奥莱瓦，环绕太阳运行，长期伴随地球。该天体距离地球较远，不属于地球天然卫星，却是目前已知最典型、轨道最稳定的地球准卫星。Tian wen 2 will study the celestial body up close using a suite of 11 instruments, including cameras, spectrometers and radars, before deploying special devices to collect samples from its surface.天问二号搭载共 11 台套载荷，包含光学相机、光谱仪、雷达等设备，将近距离观测该小行星，之后释放专用采样装置采集地表样本。spacecraft /ˈspeɪskrɑːft/n. 航天器，探测器asteroid /ˈæstərɔɪd/n. 小行星ephemeris /ɪˈfemərɪs/n. 星历表spectrometer /spekˈtrɒmɪtə(r)/n. 光谱仪

Recorded live from the Davos on Air booth at the World Economic Forum's Annual Meeting of the New Champions in Dalian, this special episode of Sinica tackles the "pacing problem": the widening gap between how fast AI moves and how slowly regulation can catch up. I sit down with Xue Lan, dean of Schwarzman College at Tsinghua University and one of the architects of China's concept of "agile governance," to unpack what that term means in practice. He traces China's regulatory evolution from the 2017 AI plan through the generative AI rules and the 2021 tech crackdown, compare Chinese, American, and European approaches, and ask whether Beijing's adaptive style can travel to other political systems — including liberal democracies.00:09 – Live from Dalian: the “pacing problem” and why AI has turned it into a chasm03:18 – Introducing Xue Lan, dean of Schwarzman College and architect of “agile governance”04:34 – Why AI's pace makes it uniquely hard to regulate06:01 – Defining agile governance: mindset, partnership over adversary, and light-touch tools11:54 – From the 2017 AI plan to today: China's two-track approach to tech and governance20:07 – Balancing development and security amid the US-China AI race23:24 – Revisiting the 2021 tech crackdown: failure of the model, or agility of a different kind?26:14 – The “DeepSeek moment,” open-weight models, and regulatory uncertainty by design37:10 – EU comprehensiveness vs. US patchwork vs. China's modular, adaptive approach46:59 – Can agile governance travel to liberal democracies? Finding common ground on global AI riskSee 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: Lost in Nature: A Quest for Friendship and Adventure Find the full episode transcript, vocabulary words, and more:fluentfiction.com/zh/episode/2026-06-29-07-38-19-zh Story Transcript:Zh: 在四川雨林深处的夏天，一个阳光明媚的早晨，金、林海和美琳开始了他们的徒步冒险。En: In the heart of the Sichuan rainforest during the summer, on a sunny morning, Jin, Linhai, and Meilin began their hiking adventure.Zh: 金，一个热爱大自然的人，怀着找到偏远瀑布的愿望，充满期待地走在前面。En: Jin, a nature lover, eagerly walked ahead with hopes of finding a remote waterfall.Zh: 林海，金的堂兄，对这次旅行半信半疑，更多是为了陪伴而来。En: Linhai, Jin's cousin, was skeptical about the trip and joined more for the companionship.Zh: 美琳，是当地的向导，擅长在丛林中穿梭，但她心中也有个秘密：找到一种稀有的兰花。En: Meilin, a local guide adept at navigating the jungle, had her own secret mission: to find a rare orchid.Zh: 他们的旅程从密林深处开始，这座森林以其紧密的树冠和丰富的野生动物而闻名。En: Their journey commenced deep within the dense forest, renowned for its tightly knit canopy and rich wildlife.Zh: 虫鸣鸟叫，不绝于耳。En: The chorus of insects and birds was unending.Zh: 有时，阳光透过树叶缝隙洒下点点金光，增添了几分神秘感。En: Occasionally, sunlight streamed through the gaps in the leaves, casting spots of golden light, enhancing the sense of mystery.Zh: 几小时后，森林变得更加密集，道路愈发艰难。En: After a few hours, the forest grew denser, and the path became increasingly arduous.Zh: 严重的湿气让每一步都十分吃力。En: The oppressive humidity made each step a struggle.Zh: 金坚定地想达到瀑布，但美琳却时不时地指向另一条路，说：“那里好像有我要找的兰花。”En: Jin was determined to reach the waterfall, but Meilin occasionally pointed towards another direction, saying, “I think the orchid I'm looking for is that way.”Zh: 金犹豫了。En: Jin hesitated.Zh: 他想继续朝着瀑布前进，但又担心错过了一次帮助美琳的机会。En: He wanted to continue towards the waterfall but was also worried about missing the chance to help Meilin.Zh: 林海则两手插袋，观望两人的对话。En: Linhai watched their conversation with his hands in his pockets.Zh: 中午时分，天空突然灰暗下来，烈日被乌云遮盖。En: By noon, the sky suddenly darkened, and the scorching sun was obscured by dark clouds.Zh: “快！我们得赶紧找个地方躲雨！”美琳喊道。En: “Quick! We need to find a place to take cover from the rain!” Meilin shouted.Zh: 没多久，豆大的雨点开始落下，打在树叶上，发出哗哗声。En: Before long, large raindrops began to fall, hitting the leaves with a loud patter.Zh: 他们迅速找到一个树洞，大家合力撑起雨具。En: They quickly found a tree cavity and together set up rain gear.Zh: 雨中等待间，金终于鼓起勇气问美琳：“那兰花，对你真的这么重要吗？”En: While waiting in the rain, Jin finally mustered up the courage to ask Meilin, “Is the orchid really that important to you?”Zh: “是的，”美琳答道，声音被雨声吞没了一半，“这兰花对我家族有特别的意义。”En: “Yes,” Meilin replied, her voice half-drowned by the rain, “The orchid has special significance to my family.”Zh: 金沉思了一会，决定改变计划。En: Jin thought for a moment and decided to change their plan.Zh: 他转向林海和美琳，“那我们去找兰花吧，也许这是我们更需要做的。”En: He turned to Linhai and Meilin, “Then let's go find the orchid. Maybe that's what we really need to do.”Zh: 雨后，他们继续行走，在幽静的小径间探寻。En: After the rain, they continued walking and exploring the quiet paths.Zh: 没多久，他们发现了一片盛开的兰花，美琳望着那稀有而美丽的花朵，眼中闪烁着激动的光芒。En: Before long, they discovered a patch of blooming orchids, and Meilin gazed at the rare and beautiful flowers, her eyes shining with excitement.Zh: 突然，远处传来瀑布轰鸣声。En: Suddenly, the roar of a waterfall could be heard from a distance.Zh: 金心里一阵兴奋，看着美琳笑，“也许，这场冒险我们都会满意。”En: Jin felt a rush of excitement and smiled at Meilin, “Perhaps this adventure will satisfy us all.”Zh: 当他们站在瀑布前，水势磅礴，美琳心愿达成，金也在这里找回了平静和满足的心灵。En: As they stood before the majestic waterfall, with Meilin's wish fulfilled, Jin found peace and contentment in his heart.Zh: 林海也不再顽固，看着眼前的美景，明白了旅行的意义。En: Linhai, no longer stubborn, looked at the stunning scenery and understood the meaning of the journey.Zh: 在这次冒险中，金学会了灵活应对和团队合作的重要性。En: During this adventure, Jin learned the importance of adaptability and teamwork.Zh: 这一天，他们在森林中的经历，成为了三个人心中一道永不褪色的风景线。En: On this day, their experiences in the forest became an unforgettable chapter in the hearts of the three, an indelible scenic memory. Vocabulary Words:rainforest: 雨林hiking: 徒步remote: 偏远skeptical: 半信半疑companionship: 陪伴adept: 擅长navigate: 穿梭orchid: 兰花commenced: 开始dense: 密集canopy: 树冠wildlife: 野生动物chrous: 虫鸣鸟叫gaps: 缝隙enhancing: 增添arduous: 艰难oppressive: 严重的humidity: 湿气hesitated: 犹豫obscured: 遮盖scorching: 烈日raindrops: 雨点cavity: 树洞mustered: 鼓起significance: 意义adaptability: 灵活应对contentment: 满足indelible: 永不褪色scenic: 风景线majestic: 磅礴

Last week in Brussels, EU leaders held their first sustained debate on China policy in three years, and were so wary of Beijing's reaction they wouldn't print the word “China” on the agenda. The trigger: a goods-trade deficit closing in on 360 billion euros, and, for the first time ever, all 27 member states in the red. Recorded at Summer Davos in Dalian, I sat down with economic historian Adam Tooze to ask why the panic, and why now. Polanyi, the Plaza Accord, “glut shaming,” a $1.2 trillion surplus, and what Europe and China each most need to understand about the other.04:26 – Why the alarm now? Imbalances are decades old, so what changed—and the shift from China slotting into Western supply chains to climbing the value chain07:04 – Karl Polanyi, the “double movement,” and how the European working-class question becomes the politics of right-wing populism11:21 – Autos as the core of the fight—12 million jobs—and why the Ukraine alignment gives the whole thing its moral charge for von der Leyen14:14 – “Glut shaming”: the accusation of illegitimacy baked into the Western framing, and how it lands on a Chinese ear18:16 – Wěiqu (委屈)—the swallowed sense of being wronged and why the EU should exercise a bit of cognitive empathy20:14 – Merz reaches for the 1985 Plaza Accord, and the empathy gap that lets a German politician miss what that signals in Beijing22:00 – The currency-manipulation argument, Germany's own history with the euro, and why Switzerland is the real manipulator25:49 – The $1.2 trillion surplus—”nothing we've ever seen before”—and the consumption China refuses to do26:12 – Sorting the sectors: solar, batteries, and EVs where resistance is futile, versus steel and shipbuilding as “Polanyi double-movement as cosplay”32:04 – The Draghi report and the house of mirrors: is China the cause of Europe's malaise or just the thing exposing a homegrown one?36:27 – If Tooze had von der Leyen's ear: investment-linked talks, phased protection with a clear exit, and “investment, investment, investment”41:16 – The October clock on the U.S.–China truce, and why this autumn could get very ugly43:09 – Closing advice: what Europe and Beijing each most need to understand if this ends in managed rebalancing rather than a trade warSee 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 Shanggao. From late March to early April 1940, Japanese forces attacked Shanggao in Jiangxi with a multi‑pronged offensive. Chinese commanders used elastic defense and coordinated counter-moves, trading space for time through layered positions until the Japanese advanced into prepared strongpoints. As the 34th Division moved toward the town, assaults repeatedly hit ridges and bridge lines held by the 74th Corps. Heavy air strikes caused chaos, but timely flank redeployments prevented a decisive breakthrough. During the crisis around March 21–24, Chinese units maneuvered an encirclement and executed a controlled breakout at the critical moment. After intense fighting and bombing, the Japanese were routed and fell back to their original positions. The wider war did not change, yet Shanggao proved that disciplined Chinese planning could reverse Japanese offensives against superior initiative and numbers.   #207 Battle of Zhongtiao Mountain 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. By the spring of 1941, the War of Resistance against Japan had been grinding for nearly four years, and the map of China looked increasingly like a wound. Japan controlled the coastal cities, the major river valleys, and most of the productive lowland plains of the north and east. The Nationalist government had retreated far inland to Chongqing, governing a rump state of mountainous hinterland, foreign sympathies, and diminishing resources. The war had long since ceased to look like a conventional conflict between organized fronts and had settled into something grimmer and more ambiguous — a slow war of attrition fought in the mud and rocks of the Chinese interior, punctuated by Japanese offensives designed not to end the war but to compress it, to squeeze the Nationalists tighter with each season until surrender became a rational calculation rather than a humiliation. Japan had tried other methods first. In the late 1930s, Tokyo made serious overtures to Chiang Kai-shek's government, proposing a negotiated settlement that would see China aligned with Japan and the puppet Wang Jingwei government elevated as the vehicle for that arrangement. Chiang refused. He had gambled, and would continue to gamble, that the war in Europe would eventually draw in the Western powers, that American patience with Japanese aggression would run out, and that time was ultimately on China's side. The strategy required suffering in the present to buy survival in the future. Germany's invasion of Poland in September 1939 and the subsequent expansion of war across Europe only reinforced Japan's desire to accelerate its operations in China before the international situation made them impossible. By 1940, Japan signaled it intended to resolve the "China Incident" — the bureaucratic euphemism it used to avoid officially acknowledging that it was fighting a full-scale war — once and for all. The question was where. The front was hundreds of miles long. The Japanese army in China was stretched thin despite its nominal strength. Spectacular victories in the lowlands had failed to produce the political capitulation Tokyo expected. And in the mountains of Shanxi Province, a particular irritant had been festering for three years — one that the Japanese could neither ignore nor seem to dislodge. The Zhongtiao Mountains rise along the southern edge of Shanxi Province, running roughly east to west for some two hundred miles, forming a natural wall between the loess plateaus of Shanxi and the plains of northern Henan below. The range is not dramatic by Chinese standards — it is not the soaring, cloud-piercing landscape of Sichuan or Yunnan — but it is rugged, deeply ridged, and extraordinarily difficult to move through quickly. For a defending army with knowledge of the terrain, the Zhongtiao range was close to ideal. For an attacker, especially one dependent on mechanized firepower and coordinated logistics, it was a nightmare. Chinese forces had occupied the Zhongtiao Mountains since 1938, following the fall of Taiyuan and the retreat of Nationalist forces from the broader Shanxi campaign. At a moment when much of northern China was collapsing around them, the garrison there dug in and refused to move. Over the following three years, the Japanese Army mounted thirteen separate offensives against the Zhongtiao position. All thirteen failed. The mountains held. Chinese soldiers would later call it the "Eastern Maginot Line," a nickname that was simultaneously a boast and, in retrospect, a warning — the original Maginot Line, after all, had also been considered impregnable until the enemy simply went around it. But the strategic importance of Zhongtiao went beyond prestige. The mountains commanded the northern approach to the Yellow River crossings — the great geographic boundary that separated Japanese-controlled northern China from the Nationalist-held central and western regions. From their positions in the mountains, Chinese troops could threaten Japanese supply lines, protect their own river logistics, and maintain at least a symbolic presence north of the Yellow River. As long as the Zhongtiao garrison held, Japan could not claim complete control of northern China. It was also a potential launching point for a Chinese counteroffensive, should one ever become possible. The Japanese understood this perfectly. By 1940, eliminating the Zhongtiao position had become not merely desirable but strategically necessary. The First War Zone command responsible for the Zhongtiao garrison was, at least on paper, an imposing force. Between 170,000 and 180,000 men were deployed across the mountain range and its approaches, drawn from multiple armies and organized into several large groupings. The 5th Army Group under Zeng Wanzhong held the central area. The 14th Army Group under Liu Maoen operated in the eastern sector. The 4th Army Group, known as the "Iron Pillar of Zhongtiao" for its tenacious defense of the position over three years, was stationed as the backbone of the force. Individual armies were spread across specific nodes: Pei Changhui's 9th Army at Jiyuan in northern Henan; Zhao Shiling's 43rd Army at Yuanqu at the southernmost tip of Shanxi; Tang Huaiyuan's 3rd Army and Kong Lingxun's 80th Army in the Wenxi and Xiaxian areas; Wu Shimin's 98th Army at Dongfeng Town; Wu Tinglin's 15th Army near Gaoping. The man responsible for holding all of this together was Wei Lihuang, a gifted commander and one of Chiang Kai-shek's most capable generals. Wei had organized the Zhongtiao defense from the beginning, and his strategic instincts were widely respected. He was, by most accounts, the indispensable figure in the garrison's survival. The problem was that Wei had made powerful enemies. His refusal to participate in anti-Communist friction operations — at a time when the Nationalist government was increasingly focused on neutralizing the Communists even at the cost of Japanese resistance — had alienated him from a circle of powerful rivals, including the influential Hu Zongnan. Outmaneuvered at court, Wei was summoned to Chongqing in early 1941 and, under the pretext of strategic consultations, was effectively detained at Mount Emei. He never returned to his command in the Zhongtiao Mountains. The army he had built was left without its architect. The garrison that remained was compromised far beyond its missing commander, however. Three years of static defense had created conditions that corroded military discipline in predictable and insidious ways. Supply lines were unreliable, rations were short, and the soldiers garrisoning remote mountain positions had turned, by necessity and then by habit, to the local economy to sustain themselves. A bustling illicit trade in grain and opium had sprung up across the mountain zone, with Chinese troops selling what they could and buying what they needed from merchants who operated equally comfortably on both sides of the Japanese-Chinese frontier. This was not merely a logistical failure. It meant that Japanese intelligence had abundant commercial cover to infiltrate the garrison area, that security was a fiction, and that the defensive posture of the entire force had quietly shifted from warlike readiness to something closer to bureaucratic occupation. The Japanese had not missed any of this. For months before the offensive, Japanese intelligence agents had worked their way into the garrison's supply networks, trading relationships, and eventually its command structure itself. Japanese special forces had identified key headquarters positions. Informants had mapped the positions of individual units, traced the routes between them, and assessed the readiness of the men holding them. By the spring of 1941, Japanese planners believed, with considerable justification, that they could paralyze the entire Chinese command system within an hour of opening fire. This was not boasting. It was reconnaissance. Back in Chongqing, the intelligence picture was worse than unclear — it was actively distorted. The Nationalist intelligence apparatus issued warnings about Japanese troop movements near the Zhongtiao perimeter in April 1941, but the warnings were partial, their significance disputed, and the political will to act on them absent. A series of conferences were convened at Luoyang, the regional headquarters. Fortification orders were issued. Additional supplies were promised. Almost none of the follow-through actually materialized. The garrison's most powerful formation, the 4th Army Group, had already been transferred away from the area. Its absence left a hole in the defensive line that no amount of paper orders could fill. On the Japanese side, the operation that would eliminate the Zhongtiao garrison was carefully and systematically prepared. It was codenamed the "Central Plains Campaign" — a name that reflected its true ambition, which was not merely to take a mountain range but to reshape the strategic geography of the entire region. The operation was assigned to the North China Area Army under Lieutenant General Tada Shun, an experienced commander who had studied the Zhongtiao problem for years and had a clear understanding of why previous offensives had failed. The core of the attacking force was seven divisions: the 33rd, 35th, 36th, 37th, 41st, and 21st Divisions, along with several independent mixed brigades, puppet Chinese formations, cavalry, and a substantial artillery and air component. The 3rd Air Group, operating from airfields at Yuncheng and Xinxiang, would provide tactical air support throughout the operation. In total, the frontline assault force numbered approximately 100,000 men. This was not a repeat of the previous thirteen offensives, in which the Japanese had probed and pressed at the mountains frontally. This was a comprehensive annihilation plan. Tada's design exploited the geographic shape of the Zhongtiao position itself. The Chinese garrison occupied a roughly crescent-shaped area, with its back to the Yellow River and its front facing north and east into Japanese-held territory. The obvious previous approach — attacking from the north — had failed repeatedly because the terrain favored the defenders. Tada's solution was to attack from three directions simultaneously, with the town of Yuanqu on the Yellow River as the primary objective. Yuanqu was the hinge of the entire Chinese position: it controlled the main river crossings, served as the central supply point for the garrison, and sat at the narrowest point between the mountains and the water. If Yuanqu fell, the Chinese would be cut off from their supply line and divided into two separate pockets. Then each pocket could be destroyed at leisure. To execute this, Tada organized his forces into three attack groups. The eastern group, built around Lieutenant General Harada Yukichi's 35th Division with elements of the 21st Division and the 4th Independent Cavalry Brigade — totaling roughly 25,000 men with armor, artillery, and supporting puppet forces — would drive westward along the Daoqing Road, pushing through Jiyuan and Mengxian toward the eastern flank of the Chinese position. The northeastern group, under Lieutenant General Shozo Sakurai commanding the 33rd Division and an Independent Mixed Brigade, would descend from Yangcheng southward, striking at the middle of the Chinese line. The western and northwestern group, the largest, comprising the 36th, 37th, and 41st Divisions along with the 9th and 16th Independent Mixed Brigades, would push southward from multiple points between Sangchi and Zhangdian, driving straight for Yuanqu. The final element of the plan was the most audacious. Japanese special forces and paratroopers were to land behind Chinese lines on the opening night of the offensive, targeting the Chinese headquarters and communications nodes. If the Chinese command could be blinded and paralyzed in the first hours of the battle, resistance would collapse before it could organize. Given the penetration of the garrison by Japanese intelligence, the paratroopers knew precisely where to go. From late April, Japanese forces quietly moved into their assault positions. Supply dumps were stocked. Artillery was registered on Chinese positions. The attack was set for the morning of May 7, 1941. Everything was ready. The battle opened before dawn on May 7, and it opened everywhere at once. On the eastern front, Harada's 35th Division and its attached formations crossed the start line and drove westward in three parallel columns along the Daoqing Road. More than 5,000 infantrymen, 1,000 cavalry, dozens of artillery pieces, over 100 tanks and armored vehicles, and the supporting puppet troops of Zhang Lanfeng and Liu Yanfeng poured into the Chinese-held area around Jiyuan and Mengxian. The assault had an almost mechanical quality — it moved at the pace of its armor and artillery, methodically grinding through whatever lay in its path. On the northeastern front, Sakurai's 33rd Division descended from Yangcheng with more than 10,000 men, striking at Wu Shimin's 98th Army at Dongfeng Town. Wu was one of the more aggressive Chinese commanders in the garrison, and he did not wait to be overwhelmed. He threw his forces into active resistance on multiple axes, contesting each Japanese advance rather than simply absorbing it. In the fighting around Wangcun, his troops achieved one of the campaign's rare Chinese tactical successes, routing approximately 2,000 Japanese attackers and killing more than 700, including Colonel Hamada, a Japanese regimental commander. It was a genuine local victory, but it could not change the larger picture. On the western and northwestern front, the main Japanese force pushed south with its eyes fixed on Yuanqu. The coordinated weight of three divisions and two independent brigades, all moving along converging axes, was designed to be overwhelming. Individually, a Chinese unit might hold a ridge or a pass for a day. Collectively, there was no way to stop what was coming. And that same night, as the Chinese scrambled to respond to attacks on every side, Japanese paratroopers landed near Chinese headquarters positions. They found what intelligence had promised: a command system already in disarray, staffed by officers who had received no coherent orders and had lost communications with most of their subordinate units. The Japanese were not wrong when they predicted they could paralyze the Chinese command within hours. By the morning of May 8, the Chinese First War Zone headquarters had effectively ceased to function as a coordinating body. Individual armies would fight on, but they would fight alone. The second day of the battle brought the decisive blow. On the afternoon of May 8, the 9th Army under Pei Changhui — already reeling from the pressure of the eastern Japanese columns — abandoned the cities of Ji and Meng and fell back westward. The withdrawal opened a path through the Chinese line, and the Japanese exploited it immediately. That evening, with the assistance of paratroopers who had secured key access routes overnight, Japanese forces reached Yuanqu on the Yellow River's northern bank and took it. The fall of Yuanqu changed everything. At a single stroke, the Chinese garrison's supply line from the south bank of the Yellow River was severed. The main crossing points were in Japanese hands. The two halves of the Chinese position — those to the east of Yuanqu and those to the west — were now separated, unable to reinforce one another. The double encirclement that Tada had designed on paper became a physical reality on the ground. The trap had closed. May 9 brought further disaster. Japanese forces captured Wufujian, another significant point in the Chinese rear. And on this day the battle's human cost began to register in the most stark terms possible. Wang Jun, commander of the newly formed 27th Division of Kong Lingxun's 80th Army, was killed in action fighting in the southern Shanxi mountains. Major General Chen Wenqi, deputy commander of the 24th Division, died in fierce combat near Taizhai Village. And Major General Liang Xixian, having retreated with the remnants of his force to Taizhai and found every route blocked — his options reduced to surrender or death — walked into the Yellow River and drowned himself. He was not the last Chinese officer to choose death over capture. The loss of three generals in a single day was not merely tragic. It reflected something about the nature of the battle that the casualty statistics alone could not capture: the Chinese officers who fought most fiercely and refused to abandon their positions were precisely the men dying, while the broader institutional structure that should have supported them had already failed. The garrison was being consumed from its fighting edge inward. Over the following two days, the Japanese methodically tightened the ring. The eastern column, having taken Yuanqu, split into two prongs: one drove eastward, capturing Shaoyuan by the morning of May 12 and linking up with the forces that had been pressing westward from Jiyuan; the other drove westward to Wufujian, joining with the troops already there. The inner encirclement was now complete and continuous. The Yellow River crossings along the entire Chinese front were blocked. There was no route south that wasn't already under fire or in Japanese hands. The fighting in the mountain passes was, by all accounts, ferocious. At Fengmenkou — a critical pass that both sides recognized as a key chokepoint — the Chinese 9th Army committed the main force of its newly formed 24th Division along with elements of the 54th Division, fighting for every ridge and ravine. The Japanese sent reinforcements and simply absorbed the punishment, pressing forward until numbers and artillery told. By May 12, the position at Jianshan had been surrounded as well, and the outer ring of encirclement had sealed. The Chinese armies in the Zhongtiao Mountains were now divided into isolated pockets, each fighting separately, each trying to find a gap in the Japanese lines that simply wasn't there. Beyond the mountains, the Chinese high command in Luoyang was issuing desperate orders. Units that had already been overrun were instructed to hold positions they no longer occupied. Army commanders who had lost contact with their corps were told to coordinate with formations they couldn't reach. The gap between the orders flowing from headquarters and the reality on the ground had become absolute. The First War Zone command was, in practical terms, a spectator to the destruction of its own army. Of all the days in the three-week battle, May 13 was perhaps the most devastating for Chinese morale. At Cunbu, in the western sector, the 3rd Army under Lieutenant General Tang Huaiyuan had been surrounded and cut off. Tang was among the finest officers in the Nationalist army — a career soldier of exceptional ability, admired by subordinates and superiors alike, the kind of commander who by his personal presence could steady troops on the edge of breaking. He had led the 3rd Army in continuous fighting since May 7, conducting a fighting retreat that had preserved more of his force than most. But there was nowhere left to retreat to. Cunbu was surrounded on all sides. The Yellow River was behind him. The Japanese were in front. Tang Huaiyuan sat with his surviving officers and told them that he would not surrender. Then he shot himself. He was fifty-seven years old. On the same day, Cun Xingqi, commander of the 12th Division, was hit eight times during close combat and died on the field. The tally of dead general officers had now reached five in the space of a week. Tang Huaiyuan's death, unlike the others, resonated as something more than a military loss. He was a symbol of what the Zhongtiao defense had once represented: the possibility that courage and skill could compensate for disadvantages in firepower and logistics. His death seemed to say, loudly, that that possibility was exhausted. Chiang Kai-shek, when news reached him in Chongqing, personally ordered that Tang Huaiyuan be posthumously promoted and honored. The gesture was well-intentioned and entirely beside the point. Tang was dead. His army was destroyed. The gesture could not undo either fact. With the double encirclement complete and the primary Chinese resistance broken, the Japanese Army entered the second and less dramatic but equally brutal phase of its operation: the systematic clearance of what remained. Beginning around May 15, Japanese units shifted from the headlong offensive drives of the first week to methodical sweep operations, moving through the mountain terrain in organized formations, pressing into each remaining pocket and eliminating whatever resistance they found. The Yellow River's northern bank was secured by Japanese forces who established posts at the crossing points, blocking retreat and interdicting any resupply attempt. From the western front, sweep operations continued in a series of movements that lasted until well into June, each one driving Chinese remnants further into smaller and more untenable positions. Japanese after-action reports from this period read with the clinical detachment of men doing carpentry rather than fighting: so many positions cleared, so many prisoners taken, so many bodies counted. For the surviving Chinese forces, this period was one of desperate improvisation. With coordinated resistance impossible and every organized position either taken or surrounded, the remnant armies broke up into smaller columns and attempted to find their own routes out of the encirclement. Their experiences varied enormously depending on their starting position, the initiative of their commanders, and fortune. The remnants of the 3rd Army and 15th Army, under Zeng Wanzhong of the 5th Army Group, managed to push through to Yellow River crossings in the west and get their men across to the south bank, eventually reorganizing at Luoyang and Xin'an. The 93rd Army, which had occupied positions in the northeast, shook off the Japanese pursuit with sufficient speed and organization to cross at Yumenkou and escape into Hancheng County in Shaanxi Province, preserving more of its fighting strength than most. Wu Shimin's 98th Army — whose fighting at Wangcun had been one of the campaign's genuine bright spots — was pushed northward into the Taiyue Mountains, conducting guerrilla operations as it went. Wu himself was wounded during the withdrawal and would spend months recovering; he never fully recovered his health, and would die by suicide the following year. The 43rd Army under Zhao Shiling, which had held Yuanqu before its fall, managed a fighting withdrawal toward Fushan and Yicheng in the north. Pei Changhui's 9th Army conducted several days of guerrilla operations along the Daoqing Road before finding crossings at Xiaodukou and Guanyangdukou and getting across the Yellow River to safety. By May 27, the great majority of the Zhongtiao Mountain garrison had either been destroyed, captured, or withdrawn. The mountains that had held for three years were in Japanese hands. The battle, for all practical purposes, was over. The two sides emerged from the battle with starkly different accounts of what had happened, and the gap between those accounts is itself revealing. Japanese operational records claimed that their forces had killed approximately 42,000 Chinese soldiers on the battlefield, taken around 35,000 prisoners, captured enormous quantities of weapons and supplies, and inflicted total Chinese casualties exceeding 100,000. Against this, Japanese headquarters reported their own losses as 673 killed and 2,292 wounded — a ratio so lopsided that it seemed to describe a completely different kind of warfare. Whether or not the precise numbers are accurate, Japanese sources were consistent in portraying the battle as a catastrophic one-sided rout. The Chinese government's official figures, presented to the public and to allied nations, told a very different story. Nationalist records acknowledged approximately 13,751 officers and soldiers killed, wounded, gassed, or missing, while claiming Japanese casualties of around 9,900. These numbers, by the standards of the actual fighting and the geographic scale of the defeat, strained credulity. They were the numbers of a government that needed, for political and morale reasons, to minimize a disaster it could not afford to fully acknowledge. What is beyond dispute is the strategic result. The Zhongtiao garrison, which had held for three years against thirteen prior offensives, had been destroyed in twenty days. The last significant Nationalist Chinese presence north of the Yellow River in the region had been eliminated. Japan now controlled the northern bank of the river for a substantial stretch, had secured its supply lines through southern Shanxi, and had opened the door for future pressure on Luoyang and ultimately Xi'an. The mountain barrier that had allowed Chinese forces to threaten Japanese logistics was gone. It would not be rebuilt. Six senior Chinese generals had died in the battle: Wang Jun, Chen Wenqi, Liang Xixian, Tang Huaiyuan, Cun Xingqi, and others in the fighting. Their deaths were individually remarkable — men choosing death over surrender at rate that reflected both the desperate conditions of the battle and a code of honor that many of them explicitly invoked in their final moments. They were also, in aggregate, a measure of how completely the officer corps had been consumed. In the decades since the battle, historians have returned repeatedly to the question of why a position held for three years collapsed so completely in three weeks. The answers are neither simple nor flattering to the Nationalist government, and they were debated with bitter intensity in Chongqing even while the battle was still being fought. The most immediate cause was the removal of Wei Lihuang. This was not merely the loss of a capable general — it was the destruction of the institutional knowledge and personal relationships that had made the defense function. The Zhongtiao garrison was not simply a collection of soldiers in mountain positions; it was a system, carefully constructed over three years, that depended on specific command relationships, established logistics arrangements, and particular allocation of resources. Wei had built that system. Without him, and without any adequate replacement, it became something far more brittle than it appeared. Below the level of high command, the garrison's gradual corruption was an equally powerful factor. The trading networks, the opium commerce, the penetration by Japanese intelligence — these were not incidental problems but symptoms of a deeper institutional failure. An army that has spent three years in static defensive positions, chronically undersupplied and without a meaningful offensive mission, tends toward exactly this kind of decay. The Nationalist government's decision to prioritize anti-Communist friction operations over Zhongtiao's fighting readiness had removed the 4th Army Group — the backbone of the defense — and had consumed Wei Lihuang's attention and political capital at the worst possible moment. The Japanese plan, too, deserves credit it rarely receives in Chinese accounts of the battle. The three-pronged converging attack on Yuanqu was not simply overwhelming force applied to an obvious target. It was an elegant solution to the genuine tactical puzzle that the Zhongtiao mountains presented, exploiting the garrison's geographic vulnerability with a precision that turned the defenders' mountain terrain from an asset into a trap. The use of paratroopers to decapitate the Chinese command in the opening hours was a sophisticated operational concept that worked almost exactly as designed. Tada Shun was not lucky. He was thorough. Finally, there is the question of Chiang Kai-shek's own priorities. His reported weeping upon receiving news of the defeat was genuine, in the sense that the loss clearly shocked and grieved him. But the decisions that led to the defeat — Wei Lihuang's removal, the transfer of the 4th Army Group, the neglect of fortification and resupply in the months preceding the battle — had been made in Chongqing, not in the mountains. The Zhongtiao garrison had been strategically sacrificed, piece by piece, for political calculations in the internal factional struggle between Nationalists and Communists. Whether Chiang understood the cost of those choices before May 7, 1941, is debatable. After that date, it was difficult to pretend otherwise. The fall of the Zhongtiao Mountains did not end the War of Resistance, but it substantially worsened China's strategic position in the north. Over the following months, Japan used its consolidated control of southern Shanxi to increase pressure on the Yellow River line and probe toward Luoyang. The surviving Chinese armies, reorganized south of the river, were in no position to counterattack. The mountains themselves, stripped of their garrison and secured by Japanese occupation troops, became part of the extended Japanese occupation zone — a territory to be administered and exploited rather than contested. For the men who had fought there, the battle left wounds that went beyond the physical. Entire armies had to be rebuilt from remnants. Officers who had retreated, whether under orders or on their own initiative, faced boards of inquiry in an atmosphere of recrimination and blame-seeking. Some were cashiered. Some faced criminal proceedings. The search for culpability — which was genuine enough, since the failure was genuine — tended to fall on those least able to defend themselves rather than on the senior commanders and political figures whose decisions had created the conditions for defeat. The posthumous honors awarded to Tang Huaiyuan, Liang Xixian, Wang Jun, and the other officers who died in battle were heartfelt, and they were also convenient. The heroic dead could be elevated without requiring the living to answer uncomfortable questions. Their sacrifice was real. The system that wasted it was also real. In the broader history of the Second Sino-Japanese War, the Battle of Zhongtiao Mountain tends to be overshadowed by more famous engagements — Shanghai, Nanjing, Taierzhuang, the later battles along the Salween. This is partly because the Chinese side lost comprehensively and had little interest in memorializing the loss, and partly because the battle's significance was more strategic than dramatic. There was no great last stand, no single moment of heroism sufficient to redeem the catastrophe. There were only men dying in mountain passes, generals walking into rivers, and an entire defensive system disintegrating under the weight of its own contradictions. What the Battle of Zhongtiao Mountain represents, in the end, is a case study in how military positions are really lost. They are rarely lost on the battlefield alone. They are lost in the staff meetings where capable commanders are removed for political reasons. They are lost in the supply depots that never get restocked. They are lost in the informal economies that grow up when institutions stop functioning. They are lost in the intelligence assessments that are written and ignored. They are lost, finally and irreversibly, in the early morning hours when the guns open simultaneously on three sides and the men at the radios discover that no one is answering.     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. On May 7, 1941, Japan opened a three-front assault on Zhongtiao Mountains; paratroopers disrupted command night. With the 9th Army withdrawing, Yuanqu fell on May 8, severing supply and trapping the garrison. Fighting raged through May 13, costing generals, until Japanese sweeps cleared pockets; survivors escaped south of Yellow River.

Dr. Don and Professor Ben talk about the risks from a continuous homemade sichuan pickle fermenter Dr. Don - not risky

Joining us today is Carl Zha, a Sichuan-born Chinese-American political commentator, raised between China and the United States, with education at Caltech, and living in Bali. He tells us the story of the PRC's rise to geopolitical superpower. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

This week’s episode of the Prison Pulpit once again gives us the opportunity to talk about Wang Yi’s Early Rain Church in Sichuan, China. The church was forcibly closed down in December of 2018, which is when Wang Yi went to Prison. The remaining congregation has continued to be harassed all these years. I'm your China travel guide in exile, Missionary Ben. Follow me on Twitter/X (@chinaadventures) where I share a new Chinese city to pray for every single day. Feel free to email anytime: chinacompass @ privacyport.com. Check out PrayGiveGo.us for everything else, incl. Patreon, Substack & books… Unbeaten: My Arrest, Interrogation + Deportation from China (Unbeaten.vip) Orthodox Christians killed and historic church destroyed in Ethiopia https://www.opendoorsuk.org/news/latest-news/ethiopia-attack-orthodox-christians-killed/ Boko Haram Hostages Released https://www.bbc.com/news/articles/ce8j0jn4xjgo China detains two leaders of Early Rain, an influential underground church https://www.bbc.com/news/articles/ce9582vlm83o Follow China Compass Thank you for listening! Subscribe & leave a review on your preferred podcast platform! And don’t forget to visit PrayGiveGo.us for books + Heb. 13:3: Remember those who are in prison, “as bound with them”!

Ceci est un extrait du 5ème quart d'heure de la semaine : La folle nuit de Louise !Pour écouter le 5ème Quart d'Heure et profiter de contenu exclusif, abonnez-vous par ici : https://5emequartdheure.supercast.comAbonnez-vous à 4 Quarts d'Heure sur votre plateforme préférée : https://tr.ee/MEaR8W9S9GSuivez-nous sur Instagram :4 Quarts d'Heure : @4quartsdheureLouise : @petrouchka_Alix : @alixmrtnCamille : @camille.lorenteAu montage de cet épisode Alphonse GausslinAu mixage et à la prod Zu Aux réseaux Coline Jamait Hébergé par Acast. Visitez acast.com/privacy pour plus d'informations.

This week’s episode of the Prison Pulpit once again gives us the opportunity to talk about Wang Yi’s Early Rain Church in Sichuan, China. The church was forcibly closed down in December of 2018, which is when Wang Yi went to Prison. The remaining congregation has continued to be harassed all these years. I'm your China travel guide in exile, Missionary Ben. Follow me on Twitter/X (@chinaadventures) where I share a new Chinese city to pray for every single day. Feel free to email anytime: chinacompass @ privacyport.com. Check out PrayGiveGo.us for everything else, incl. Patreon, Substack & books… Unbeaten: My Arrest, Interrogation + Deportation from China (Unbeaten.vip) Orthodox Christians killed and historic church destroyed in Ethiopia https://www.opendoorsuk.org/news/latest-news/ethiopia-attack-orthodox-christians-killed/ Boko Haram Hostages Released https://www.bbc.com/news/articles/ce8j0jn4xjgo China detains two leaders of Early Rain, an influential underground church https://www.bbc.com/news/articles/ce9582vlm83o Follow China Compass Thank you for listening! Subscribe & leave a review on your preferred podcast platform! And don’t forget to visit PrayGiveGo.us for books + Heb. 13:3: Remember those who are in prison, “as bound with them”!

This week on Sinica I'm joined by Robert Wright, author of The Moral Animal, Nonzero, and The Evolution of God, for a conversation that runs a little outside our usual beat, though China sits closer to its center than you'd expect. The occasion is his new book The God Test: Artificial Intelligence and Our Coming Cosmic Reckoning, which reads the AI revolution as the latest turn in a story going back billions of years. We get into the French Jesuit paleontologist Teilhard de Chardin's "noosphere," Bob's argument that we evolved large language models rather than engineered them, the cognitive empathy we've both long preached, and the two-word talking point — "But China!" — that Bob thinks is most likely to lead us astray.6:56 – Teilhard de Chardin, the noosphere, and why a planetary "global brain" has become necessary14:49 – Directionality without the mysticism: complexification, teleology, and the "cell's-eye view" worry21:57 – The God Test: is moral progress really the price of governing AI, and is that hopeless on a short clock?28:33 – Why Bob says we evolved large language models rather than built them, and the sycophancy problem that follows35:19 – Open weights and open source: a real safety argument, or competitiveness in safety's clothing?40:03 – Cognitive empathy as the master key, and the same capacity as an engine of deception48:06 – Arms-race fatalism and its limits: cheetahs, gazelles, and the rival who can pick up the phone53:40 – "But China": fear of Beijing, Anthropic and Amodei, Jeff Ding, and the chip-control backfire1:10:48 – Nonzero: game theory, common threats, and the takeoff scenarios that worry Bob most1:23:22 – Attribution error and projection, Ed Fredkin's old warning, and the actual first movePaying It Forward: Garrison Lovely, author of the forthcoming Obsolete (Nation Books) and the Substack of the same name on the AI race.Recommendations:Bob: Pantheon, the animated series on uploaded minds and emergent superintelligence; and the Crowded House song "Don't Dream It's Over."Kaiser: Kyle Chan's High Capacity podcast, especially his episode with Carnegie's Matt Sheehan, "Is China Getting Worried About AI?"; and Patrick O'Brian's Aubrey-Maturin novels.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: 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

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.

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.

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.

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 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.

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.

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.