AFTER TIANANMEN:
THE STRUGGLE OVER U.S. POLICY TOWARD CHINA
IN THE BUSH ADMINISTRATION
DAVID SKIDMORE
AND
WILLIAM GATES
The end of the Cold War alters the making of U.S. foreign policy along two routes. Most directly, the Cold Warís conclusion shifts the character of the international environment at which U.S. foreign policy is targeted, including the distribution of power and interests. Less directly, the end of the Cold War works changes in U.S. foreign policy through its effects on the domestic political climate. In particular, the lessened perception of external threat removes the unifying influence that the Cold War exacted upon the domestic politics of U.S. foreign policy. Absent a single, unifying external threat, the foreign policy agenda becomes more diffuse, domestic cleavages intensify and proliferate and deference to the executive branch recedes. The end of the Cold War ushers in a more pluralistic environment for the making of U.S. foreign policy. These changes complicate the presidentís task in building domestic support for a coherent foreign policy and, on balance, weaken presidential authority in favor of the Congress and contending societal groups.
Yet presidential power over U.S. foreign policy is not hopelessly compromised in this new environment. By playing upon the cross-cutting cleavages characteristic of this increasingly pluralistic domestic setting, a president can shift the terms of debate over particular issues across different axes of conflict, seeking the resting place that is most favorable to his preferred policy outcome. Such a strategy does not ensure presidential success in maintaining control over U.S. foreign policy in the face of domestic challenges. Yet it does suggest that presidential authority in the foreign policy realm is less compromised by a more pluralistic policy-making environment than might at first be assumed.
These points are illustrated through an examination of the debate over U.S. policy toward the Peopleís Republic of China after the Tiananmen Square massacre of 1989. President Bushís conciliatory approach to dealing with Chinese authorities was deeply unpopular at home within both the Congress and the public at large. The resulting debate constituted the first important executive-congressional clash of the post-Cold War era. Although the policy that emerged was a somewhat confusing compromise between punitive and conciliatory approaches, President Bush retained a surprising degree of control over U.S. China policy by skillfully manipulating domestic cleavages.
Threat Perceptions and the Structure of Domestic Opinion
Shifts in the structure of domestic opinion regarding U.S. foreign policy can be linked to changing perceptions of external threat. The Cold War consensus of the fifties and sixties was founded upon widely shared beliefs about the threatening nature of Soviet power and intentions. A bipolar structure of opinion emerged in the post-Vietnam War period, when sharp disagreements arose between liberals and conservatives over the degree of continuing threat posed by the Soviet Union, Communism and revolutionary movements in the Third World.
Since the end of the Cold War, perceptions of external threat have generally declined among a large majority of interested domestic actors. Moreover, those threats that persist emanate not from a single source but from multiple and diverse sources, leading to a more complex foreign policy agenda. Absent a singular, threatening rival, such as the former Soviet Union, the structure of domestic opinion over foreign policy issues has entered a pluralistic phase. In a low threat perception environment, domestic unity is harder to sustain. The foreign policy agenda becomes broader and less focused. Particularistic interests gain ascendance over general or national interests. Cleavages multiply as confusion reigns over the central purposes of U.S. foreign policy and who should have a say in its making.
Four sets of domestic cleavages, or axes of conflict, are particularly important for tracing domestic debates over U.S. foreign policy in the post-Cold War era. None are peculiar to the post-Cold War period, but they cumulatively exact a greater toll on the coherence of U.S. foreign policy in the current period than in earlier ones. These four axes of conflict are the following:
1. Institutional (Executive vs. the Congress).
2. Ideological (e.g., liberal vs. conservative).
3. Partisan (Republican vs. Democratic parties).
4. Commercial (e.g., internationalist business interests vs. nationalist business interests).
During the deep Cold War era, Congress routinely deferred to the president in foreign affairs, anti-Communism served as a central and consensually held ideological value, bi-partisanship helped to mute political conflict over foreign policy issues and a broad economic internationalism united most sectors of business and labor. In the current period, however, none of these conditions can be taken for granted. Domestic division is the rule and domestic unity the exception.
Yet in the pluralistic environment of the post-Cold War era, it is significant to note that these cleavages are cross-cutting. This means that given political actors (presidents, congresspersons, interest group representatives, bureaucrats, etc.) will likely have multiple political commitments and affiliations across these various axes of conflict. Frequently, these cross-cutting commitments pull in contrary directions. The degree of political salience attached to various axes of conflict will determine which commitment wins out in the debate over a given issue. The political stakes attached to an issue will depend upon whether the debate is generally perceived as revolving around one axis or another, e.g., institutional rather than commercial or ideological rather than partisan.
In a cross-cutting, pluralistic political environment, potential political coalitions on any particular issue are seldom stable and consistent across all four axes of conflict. If the choice is, for instance, between policy A and policy B, perhaps a majority coalition can be assembled in favor of A as long as the issue is seen principally in ideological terms. If, however, the debate comes to center on commercial interests, then very different coalitions might form, allowing B to emerge as the dominant outcome.
This ensures that presidents seldom face opposing coalitions of equal strength and depth across all four axes of conflict at once. Under these circumstances, a politically skillful president may use his advantages in agenda setting to shift the terms of debate in a more favorable direction. If the debate initially centers along an axis of conflict unfavorable to a presidentís position, the president can attempt to alter the terms of debate by raising the salience of another axis of conflict, one likely to produce a political lineup more favorable to his favored policy position. Simultaneously, the president can try to neutralize or dampen the salience of those axes of conflict that appear less promising.
Presidents are better placed to manipulate how issues are defined than individual members of Congress or other political actors. Presidents can do so by commanding media attention, engaging in symbolic or substantive acts abroad, relying upon their authority as party leaders or creating alliances with private societal actors. Congressional leaders have fewer such resources at their disposal and are hampered, both symbolically and substantively, by the fact that they represent a local rather than a national constituency. Since congressional opponents to the president may be motivated by varying interests or may be divided on other issues, they will often find it difficult to harmonize their messages or to coordinate strategy in a coherent and effective manner.
An examination of U.S. policy toward China under the Bush Administration provides an opportunity to explore these issues. During the Cold War, U.S. policy towards China was largely an extension of Americaís rivalry with the Soviet Union. When China was an ally of the Soviet Union, both countries were targets of Americaís strategy of global containment. Once China and the Soviet Union became rivals, the U.S. gradually moved to integrate China into an overall security structure designed to contain Soviet power. U.S. policy toward China was largely driven by external threat perceptions and domestic debates over U.S. China policy took place within a common strategic framework.
By 1989, with the Cold War thaw in full swing, this strategic framework played a rapidly diminishing role in U.S. calculations, allowing other issues, such as human rights, commercial ties and East Asian stability to become more important considerations. Following the Tiananmen Square massacre, a fractured domestic debate revealed just how little agreement existed among various interested parties over which dimensions of the Sino-American relationship should be treated as most salient. In particular, serious divisions arose between President George Bush and the Congress over how the U.S. should respond to the Chinese leadership's violent crackdown on domestic dissent. Although condemning government repression, Bush sought to limit the damage this incident might cause to close and continuing U.S.-Chinese relations. Bush favored a relatively conciliatory stance designed to preserve U.S. ties with Chinese political leaders. Congress favored a more punitive approach aimed at signaling American outrage toward the Chinese government's brutal handling of pro-democracy demonstrations by students and workers.
These differing perspectives led to clashes between the president and the Congress over three major issues: the extent of political and economic sanctions to be imposed on China, the status of Chinese students studying in the United States at the time of the crackdown and whether the U.S. should continue to grant Most Favored Nation (MFN) trading privileges to China. In each case, Congress attempted to compel Bush to adopt a tougher posture toward China than the administration initially preferred. Although Bush compromised, when necessary, with the Congress over certain aspects of U.S. China policy, the president nevertheless sought, with considerable success, to fend off the most direct challenges to executive branch control over U.S. foreign policy and to dilute the practical effect of congressional measures designed to punish China. Bushís strategy for doing so depended upon his ability to manipulate the cross-cutting character of the multiple domestic cleavages that revolved around the debate over U.S. China policy.
The President and the Congress: Clashing Perspectives
The debate over U.S. China policy following the Tiananmen Square massacre evoked intense ideological conflict over the fundamental purposes of U.S. foreign policy. In this debate, George Bush found himself largely isolated. Relatively few in the Congress shared Bush's underlying foreign policy worldview. Bush's reluctance to treat China as an international pariah in the wake of the Tiananmen Square massacre stemmed largely from his embrace of a realist approach to foreign affairs. Bush's initial on the job training in foreign affairs came during the Nixon/Kissinger era, when he served both as the first U.S. envoy to China and as American ambassador to the United Nations. Bush imbibed much of Richard Nixonís and Henry Kissinger's taste for realpolitik. Indeed, several of Bush's top officials, including Brent Scowcroft and Lawrence Eagleberger, were former Kissinger protégés.
Bush's variety of realism rested upon several general principles. Ethical concerns, in the realist view, should take a back seat to national interests in the making of U.S. foreign policy. Realists tend to prize order over justice, to lament the injection of popular passions in foreign policy debate and to place strategic interests over ideology or domestic legitimacy in gauging their country's attitude and behavior toward other powers.
The Bush Administration's foreign policies closely mirrored these precepts. Bush often chose to deal pragmatically with governments of various stripes, regardless of ideological differences or the severity of domestic opposition to the regime in question. Bush's foreign policy also emphasized the desirability of encouraging the formation of regional power balances in various parts of the world, including Europe, the Middle East and Asia. Bush viewed China as a key strategic player in Asia, serving to balance the dwindling power of the Soviet Union as well as the rising power of Japan. Bush feared unpredictable or dangerous consequences should China find itself isolated from the West. Chinese leaders might lash out in destructive ways or domestic strife might lead to an uncontrolled unraveling of Chinese internal order with untold effects on China's neighbors.
As Henry Kissinger learned during the seventies, however, realism is not a doctrine easily understood or widely accepted by either the Congress or the public at large. Realism is inconsistent with moral tenor of American democracy. Beyond the White House itself, Bush's approach to U.S.-Chinese relations faced ideological challenges from two sources: liberal human rights advocates and conservative anti-communists. In the gathering twilight of the Cold War, the former provided a more potent obstacle than the latter, but each served to motivate various interest groups and segments of congressional opposition.
Moral outrage toward the Chinese government's appalling human rights violations motivated much of the congressional opposition to Bush's conciliatory policy. Indeed, Congress has, since the mid-seventies, pressured presidents to place more weight on human rights in modulating U.S. relations with foreign governments.
Yet political calculation undoubtedly played a role in congressional attitudes as well. Popular revulsion toward the televised brutality of Chinese troops against peaceful demonstrators gave the issue salience and insured public support for tough action designed to punish Chinese authorities. According to Gallup surveys, the proportion of Americans holding a favorable attitude toward China fell from 72% in a 1989 poll conducted before the Spring demonstrations to 39% in early 1990. Certainly the presidentís own conciliatory approach won little favor with the public. A survey conducted in the Fall of 1990, for instance, showed that the general public disapproved of Bushís handling of relations with China by a 5-2 margin. Opinion leaders gave Bushís approach a negative rating by an even more lop-sided margin of 5-1. A May 1990 survey revealed that 53% of respondents supported measures that would pressure China to democratize, even if this led to long-term strains in U.S.-Chinese relations.
Alongside these concerns, a relatively small group of conservative senators and representatives voiced more basic objections to the continued dominance of the Communist Party in Chinese political life. Indeed, some had never reconciled themselves to the U.S. decision during the seventies to cut diplomatic relations with the Chinese government on Taiwan in favor of extending recognition to the mainland People's Republic.
Some congressional opponents of the president's approach were motivated by more pointed political considerations. Although support for tougher measures against China was bipartisan, many Democrats nevertheless welcomed an opportunity to undermine the generally successful foreign policy record of a Republican president. Congresspersons with large Chinese-American constituencies, most representing West Coast states, saw the defense of the pro-democracy movement as a popular cause in their districts. In other cases, congressional support for economic sanctions against China was associated with local economic interests. American textile firms, for instance, stood to gain from legislation that might curtail competing Chinese imports.
Bush sometimes publicly articulated a realist rationale for continued close ties with the Chinese government and he undoubtedly encouraged others, especially Richard Nixon and Henry Kissinger, to drive home a realist defense of the administration's policies. Yet more often, Bush preferred to downplay the ideological differences that divided his administration from its critics. In the cases that follow, Bush sought to diffuse the ideological dimensions of the debate over his China policy. The administration recognized that a forthright and vigorous defense of a realist approach to U.S. China policy would fail to attract popular support. Indeed, this sort of message would play into the hands of opponents who sought to portray the administration as callous.
Instead, the central thrust of Bush's defense rested upon the argument that continued political and economic engagement with China and quiet diplomacy offered the best hopes for achieving precisely the aims that human rights advocates sought. In other words, stiff sanctions would undermine Western leverage and strengthen hard-liners at the expense of "reformers" in the Chinese governing coalition. Instead, the United States should continue to encourage market reforms and open trade and investment with China as indirect forces for political reform. In Bushís words: "As people have commercial incentives, whether itís in China or in other totalitarian countries, the move to democracy becomes inexorable."
This appeal provided Bush's critics with a less clear cut target. Bush seemed to accept the notion that the central goal of U.S. policy should be to seek an improvement in the human rights situation in China. By conceding this point, Bush stole some of the moral thunder from his critics and transformed the debate into one over means, not ends.
The downside of this strategy, from the administration's perspective, was that it established a different set of criteria for policy success than Bush would have preferred. Instead of measuring the policy's success according to realist criteria -- whether continued ties with China enhanced stability in the region -- Bush was now compelled to demonstrate that his policy was capable of producing tangible improvements in Chinese respect for human rights. This proved difficult as time went on, since Chinese authorities continued to engage in domestic political repression, despite occasional gestures of conciliation toward Western critics.
Nevertheless, from a domestic standpoint, Bush's efforts to avoid a clear cut ideological battle over his China policy served to steer debate away from the axis of conflict along which the administration was most on the defensive and shifted attention to other aspects of the debate, where Bush's position was stronger. In the sanctions case, Bush's strongest card was to bargain for institutional flexibility in implementing Congress' mandate. In this way, the president was able to take advantage of loopholes contained in the sanctions legislation to blunt the negative impact on U.S.-Chinese relations. Bush had less maneuvering room regarding congressional efforts to protect the immigration status of Chinese students living in the U.S. Although Bush was compelled to offer substantive concessions regarding the status of Chinese immigrants, he nevertheless managed to avoid a humiliating and precedent-setting congressional override of his earlier veto by injecting partisan appeals into the Senate debate. Regarding the debate over whether to withdraw, or severely condition, Chinaís Most Favored Nation (MFN) trading status, Bush sought to underline the costs of such a move by focusing debate on economic and commercial issues. Bushís efforts in this regard were aided by the formation of an active pro-MFN private sector business coalition. In short, Bush attempted, with varying but nevertheless considerable success, to diffuse conflict along the axis in which his position was weakest -- ideology -- and to turn the debate toward institutional, partisan or commercial issues whenever, by doing so, it appeared that he could thereby divide the opposition and build a blocking or majority coalition.
Sanctions
The divisions within the U.S. government over policy toward China were stimulated by the rise and violent demise of a student-led pro-democracy movement in China. This political drama began to unfold on April 15, 1989, when groups of Chinese students flooded into Beijingís Tiananmen Square. Their initial purpose was to honor the memory of recently deceased former Communist Party Secretary Hu Yaobang who, before his ouster from power a year earlier, had earned a reputation as a political reformer. Over the coming month, up to 100,000 students flocked to Tiananmen Square in an ongoing protest designed to prod Chinese authorities toward political change. While raising the banner of democracy, the students prepared a rather more modest set of demands that fell far short of calling for Western-style representative democracy. These demands focused principally on measures to root out corruption and the opening of a dialogue between Party leaders and student representatives.
Chinese authorities at first exercised forbearance as they debated how to respond. Meanwhile, Western television crews and reporters beamed satellite images of the swelling demonstrations to the outside world. White House spokespersons adopted a reserved tone in commenting on Chinese events and President Bush largely kept his silence.
In the end, the Chinese leadership chose to crush this challenge to its authority, despite the risk that this course might result in international condemnation. On June 4, troops and tanks opened fire on the crowds of students and workers filling the streets surrounding Tiananmen Square, killing hundreds and perhaps thousands. These actions were followed by mass arrests and a continuation of the martial law declared for Beijing two weeks earlier.
The Bush Administration responded cautiously to initial reports of the bloodshed. On the first day of the crackdown, Bush declared that he deeply deplored "the decision to use force against peaceful demonstrators and the consequent loss of life." He omitted, however, any direct criticism of individual Chinese leaders. Secretary of State James Baker suggested "it would appear that there maybe was some violence on both sides" and emphasized that the U.S. did not want to interfere in the internal political affairs of China. On June 5, the president suspended arms sales to China and canceled a planned exchange of U.S. and Chinese military delegations. Bush rejected the possibility of economic sanctions and stated that the U.S. had no intention of recalling the U.S. ambassador to China. Indeed, the president counseled Americans: "Now is the time to look beyond the moment to important and enduring aspects of this vital relationship for the United States."
Almost immediately, domestic pressure began to build in the United States for the administration to take a tougher line with China. Conservatives such as Senator Jesse Helms (R-N.C.) and Max Kampelman, head of Freedom House, issued early calls for sanctions. Representative Mickey Edwards (R-Okla.), Chair of the House Republican Policy Committee and fourth ranking Republican in the House, characterized Bush's initial response as "timid." Liberals also pushed for stronger measures. Chair Alan Cranston (D-Calif.) quickly scheduled a special session of the Senate Foreign Relations Committee to reconsider U.S. policy toward China. Public protests against the Chinese crackdown spread to cities across the country, including New York, Los Angeles, San Francisco, Chicago, Houston, New Orleans, Philadelphia, Seattle, St. Paul and Buffalo.
On June 9, Bush acknowledged these pressures by stating that the U.S. could not have totally normal relations with China until Chinese authorities "recognize the validity" of the student protest movement. Bush coupled this warning to Beijing, however, with the observation that the U.S.-Chinese relationship "is fundamentally important to the U.S." He added that "I want to see it preserved."
Facing growing congressional sentiment for sterner measures, Baker announced on June 20 that the administration was suspending high level contacts with the Chinese government, including a planned visit to China by Commerce secretary Robert Mosbacher previously scheduled for July 10. Furthermore, the U.S. would ask that international financial institutions, such as the World Bank, postpone consideration of pending applications for new lending to China. The State Department also summoned the Chinese ambassador to a meeting at which U.S. officials appealed for clemency on behalf of the demonstrators.
In the House, congressional representatives introduced a flurry of amendments to the Foreign Aid Authorization Bill for 1990-91 that proposed additional sanctions on China. Baker spoke against such measures before the House Foreign Affairs Committee, arguing that "We've seen examples in the past when we have not spoken with one voice in the conduct of our foreign policy and we've always, without exception, failed in these instances." Richard Williams, Acting Assistant Secretary of State for East Asian Affairs, explained that the administration opposed congressional codification of sanctions into law because "the president needs as much flexibility as possible to respond to changed circumstances."
Richard Nixon, whom Bush consulted immediately after the crackdown, also criticized the move toward tougher sanctions, urging Bush to stand firm against the "strange coalition of China bashers" seeking to disrupt relations between the two countries. In a likely echo of Bush's own views, Nixon warned that a breakdown in U.S.-Chinese relations would push China into the arms of the Soviet Union and set back the cause of economic reform. He also argued that the U.S. must maintain a balance of power in East Asia among China, Japan and the Soviet Union.
Defying Bush, however, the House passed, by a vote of 418-0, an amendment to the Foreign Aid Bill including sanctions against China. This legislation codified into law the ban on arms sales and the suspension of high level talks already announced by Bush. Additional measures passed by the House included the suspension of Overseas Private Investment Corporation (OPIC) insurance for U.S. firms doing business in China, a halt in funding for trade and development, bans on the export of satellites and crime control equipment and an end to cooperation on nuclear energy development.
In explaining the House's action, Speaker Thomas Foley (D-Maine) stated that "I've generally thought that we ought to try to stay together with the president as much as possible on China policy. I think the administration can live with this amendment. I don't think it's inconsistent with the president's general approach." House Minority Leader Robert Michel (R-Ill.) commented that he was "reluctant" to go beyond what the president had already done, but that he supported the amendment in the interests of forging a bipartisan foreign policy with the Democrats.
Bush reluctantly accepted the inevitability of congressional action to legislate additional sanctions beyond those implemented by the president himself through executive order. Given the strong bipartisan support for sanctions, an all-out confrontation with the Congress over this issue appeared futile. Bush focused instead on two less direct objectives: eliminating the most objectionable elements of the sanctions bills moving through the Congress and building in language designed to provide the executive branch with flexibility in implementing sanctions legislation.
The first objective was met when Tom Lantos' (D-Calif.) proposal that China's Most Favored Nation trade status be revoked was stripped from the House bill. Achieving the second objective proved more complicated. At Bush's urging, both the House and the Senate bills included provisions allowing the president to waive any or all sanctions if either of two conditions were met. Both bills allowed the president to waive sanctions by certifying to Congress that the Chinese government had made significant progress toward improving human rights. The House and Senate bills differed, however, in the language included in the second waiver provision. The House bill allowed the president to lift sanctions against China if he determined that it was in the "national security interest" of the U.S. to do so. The Senate bill substituted the term "national interest" for "national security interest."
The administration preferred the waiver language of the Senate Bill over that contained in the House bill because the former provided the president with greater flexibility. Due to its greater breadth, the term "national interest," in the view of the White House, provided a less stringent standard for invoking the waiver provision than that implied by the phrase "national security interest." One State Department official observed that the loopholes contained in the Senate version were so gaping that "you can definitely drive a Boeing 757 through" (a reference to Bush's decision, discussed below, to allow the sale of 757's to China despite the conflict with announced sanctions).
Bush took this issue so seriously that he threatened to veto any bill reaching his desk that did not include a waiver provision incorporating the Senate language. Subsequently, the Senate-House conference committee, meeting in November 1989, indeed chose to use the looser Senate standard in the final draft of the legislation.
Almost immediately after announcing executive branch sanctions on China in June, Bush began to quietly carve out exceptions or to take conciliatory steps toward China in areas not covered by sanctions. The generous waiver provisions included in the sanctions legislation passed by Congress allowed Bush to continue this pattern. In the end, therefore, the practical effect of congressional action was minimal. Within a year after the Tiananmen Square crackdown, Bush had succeeded in removing or greatly weakening most of the sanctions earlier imposed either through his own executive orders or through congressional mandate.
The first such steps were announced on July 7, 1989, when Bush waived provisions of his recent executive order that would have forbidden the sale of four Boeing 757-200 commercial jets to China. The aircraft contained navigation systems that appeared on the munitions control list that Bush used as a basis for his ban on military sales to China. On the same day, the administration decided to allow Honeywell to maintain navigation equipment contained in planes already sold to China. Representative Tom Lantos (D-Calif.), a leading advocate of sanctions, responded to these actions with the charge that "there are powerful forces in this country that are ready to do business with China irrespective of what Chinese human rights are. These people have many spokesmen within the administration."
Although the president's announced sanctions included a ban on high level diplomatic contacts with the Chinese government, Bush secretly dispatched National Security Adviser Brent Scowcroft and Deputy Undersecretary of State Lawrence Eagleberger to China in July 1989. Secretary of State James Baker met with Chinese Foreign Minister Qian Qichen in New York during September when the latter visited the United Nations. In December 1989, Scowcroft and Eagleberger were sent again to China on an official visit that, in this case, was publicly revealed by the White House (the Scowcroft/Eagleberger trips are discussed in greater detail in the next section). In November 1990, Chinese Foreign Minister Qian Qichen was invited to the Washington, D.C. to meet with Baker as a reward to the Chinese government for its support of the U.S.-led coalition in the Persian Gulf War. High level contacts with the Chinese government began again on a regular basis from late 1990 onward, with top U.S. officials visiting China on three occasions during the period from December 1990 through June 1991.
In August 1989, the administration permitted Hughes Aircraft to exchange data with China regarding the launch of U.S.-made satellites. The next month, U.S. officials resumed lower level talks regarding China's interest in joining GATT.
In December 1989, the Bush Administration announced the sale of one million tons of subsidized wheat to China. Later in the month, Bush issued a waiver allowing the $300 million sale of three satellites to China and lifted the congressional ban on loans by the U.S. Export-Import Bank to finance trade with China. In both cases, Bush invoked the "national interest" waiver clause in justifying his actions.
News reports revealed that the Export-Import Bank had continued to study loan projects related to China during the June to December period, while the ban on lending was in effect, and that Bank officials had made offers on $108 million in lending. Projects totaling $30 million were in the final stages of approval when the ban was lifted. The Export-Import Bank issued two new loans, the first since the crackdown, in February 1990.
The World Bank's suspension of new lending to China also amounted to less than met the eye. Over the decade before the Tiananmen Square crackdown, the World Bank had approved $85 billion in lending to China. About one half of these old loans had yet to be disbursed at the time of the massacre. During the period that the ban on new lending was in effect, dispersal of these old loans continued and planning for future lending continued.
On January 10, 1990, Bush lifted U.S. objections to renewed lending to China by the World Bank, stating that the U.S. would consider its vote regarding new loans on a case-by-case basis. The first loan proposal receiving the favorable backing of the U.S. came in February 1990, regarding a $30 million earthquake relief project. Later, in December 1990, the World Bank issued its first non-humanitarian loan to China since the crackdown without U.S. objection. In July 1990, Bush stated that he would not oppose Japan's decision to renew Japanese foreign aid to China, although he urged the Japanese to reduce the scale of planned assistance.
In the wake of the Tiananmen Square massacre, the Bush Administration's policies toward China took the form of public criticism and private conciliation. The public face of Bush's policy was designed to satisfy public and congressional demands for stern measures against China. Ideologically isolated and facing strong bipartisan support for a tough response to the crackdown, Bush accepted the inevitable by publicly preempting congressional action with his own announced sanctions and largely held his fire as tougher sanctions legislation worked through the Congress.
Behind the scenes, however, the administration sought to dilute the practical effect of its own sanctions as well as those imposed by Congress. Bush moved to both limit the damage to U.S.-China relations and shield U.S. business interests that stood to lose from the interruption of economic ties with China. He did this by downplaying ideological divisions and bargaining with the Congress over the means rather than the ends of policy. In doing so, he persuaded the Congress to include a waiver provision designed to allow the president flexibility in implementing congressionally approved sanctions. In practice, Bush used this loophole, along with other administrative means, to largely emasculate U.S. sanctions, despite the contrary intent of Congress.
Put in conceptual terms, Bush succeeded in shifting the terms of debate from the ideological axis to the more favorable (for his position) institutional axis. The central issue became one that focused on how tightly Congress should tie the presidentís hands in foreign policy. By persuading the Congress to provide him with a wide degree of flexibility in how and whether to implement the sanctions legislation, Bush managed to gain the freedom necessary to minimize the negative effects of congressional action on U.S.-Chinese relations.
The Pelosi Bill
The brief life span of the Emergency Chinese Relief Act of 1989 (HR 2712), otherwise known as the Pelosi Bill, provides a useful illustration of how the tactic of redefining the nature of a debate can allow a president to partially salvage his foreign policy autonomy even in the face of a near universal challenge from the Congress. The Pelosi Bill offered Chinese students studying in the United States protection from deportation to their homeland. Early in the debate, Bush defended his opposition to the Pelosi Bill by arguing that it treaded on traditional presidential prerogatives and excessively restricted the president's diplomatic flexibility. This appeal failed to dilute the widespread support the Pelosi Bill enjoyed in the Congress. Indeed, the bill initially passed by an unanimous vote in the House and was approved by voice vote in the Senate. In the period immediately following Bush's subsequent veto, a successful congressional override attempt seemed assured.
Nevertheless, the Senate sustained Bush's veto when thirty-seven Republicans defected from the broad coalition that backed the bill and threw their support behind the president. This favorable outcome was largely caused by a shift in White House tactics. Abandoning his initial defense of executive branch privilege, Bush managed to secure the bill's defeat by redefining the issue in partisan terms. In this, he was aided by unexpected external events that intruded upon the debate at a critical point.
Bush's victory was only partial, since congressional pressure forced the administration to concede much of the substance of the issue. Nevertheless, Bush's partisan appeal to fellow Republicans spared him the political embarrassment of a successful congressional override of the president's earlier veto. It also robbed Bush's opponents of a crucial boost in their efforts to wrest control over broader elements of U.S. China policy from the executive branch.
HR 2712 was sponsored by Nancy Pelosi (D-Calif.), a Democratic Representative from a San Francisco district containing a large population of Chinese-Americans. The Pelosi Bill was prompted by concerns over the fate of the 40,000 Chinese students who found themselves in the U.S. at the time of the Tiananmen Square massacre. The majority of these students sympathized with the pro-democracy movement and many actively protested the crackdown. As a result, large numbers of them feared persecution upon their return to China. The Pelosi Bill provided protection for these students by allowing them to remain in the U.S. for up to four years regardless of when their visas expired and to gain permanent resident status without first returning to China.
Existing regulations allowed the Immigration and Naturalization Department to defer the deportation of students whose visas had expired until June 6, 1990. Most Chinese students, however, avoided the INS program since it required that they reveal their reason for wishing to stay in the U.S.: a fear of political persecution. Haiching Zhao, Chairman of the National Committee on Chinese Student Affairs, stated at an early House hearing on the Pelosi Bill that the INS program "is not a real option because it requires us to make a declaration against our country, branding us as traitors and counterrevolutionaries."
Support for the Pelosi Bill was widespread. Within the Congress, West Coast legislators from districts with large Asian-American constituencies spearheaded the campaign for the bill's passage. Chinese student organizations as well as Chinese-American interest groups testified on the bill's behalf. No significant interest group opposition to the Pelosi bill emerged. Only one of the 52 individuals who testified or submitted written statements to the House Foreign Affairs Subcommittee on Immigration's opening hearing on July 27, 1989, expressed opposition to the Pelosi bill.
The Pelosi Bill gathered bipartisan support from both conservatives and liberals. Dan Burton (R-Ind.) noted that opposition to Bush's China policy "cuts across party lines." About the need to protect the students as well as take a tough stance toward China's human rights abuses, Burton (R-Ind.) added that "There are an awful lot of conservatives who feel as strongly as Nancy Pelosi."
Congressional support for the bill rested upon humanitarian concern for the safety of the Chinese students. Many also saw the Pelosi bill as a vehicle for sending a stern message of disapproval to the Chinese government while also undermining the conciliatory strategy toward China pursued by the Bush Administration.
Bush based his opposition to the bill upon several concerns. The president feared that China would react strongly to such an open and humiliating gesture by the U.S. Efforts to repair Sino-American relations would be significantly set back. Bush also feared that he might lose control over other aspects of U.S. China policy if a congressionally-led initiative such as the Pelosi bill became law. Indeed, given its important international implications, the precedent established by the Pelosi bill's passage might encourage broader or more numerous congressional challenges to executive dominance in the foreign policy sphere.
Nevertheless, the task facing Bush appeared daunting. The White House expended little effort in trying to prevent the bill's initial passage by Congress. By a margin of 403 to 0, the House voted in favor of the Pelosi bill. An identical bill sailed through the Senate on a voice vote. Given this widespread support, Bush's only hope for defeating the bill was to assemble a blocking coalition large enough to sustain the veto that he issued on November 30. Even then, Bush recognized that only major concessions on his part were likely to win over the necessary votes.
Presidents typically look to members of their own party when seeking the votes necessary to sustain a veto. In this case, however, backing for the Pelosi bill was strongly bipartisan and many congressional Republicans were vocal in their criticism of the president's overall China policy. Initially, therefore, Bush's strategy for averting a congressional override of his veto focused on a defense of presidential prerogatives.
As he had in the debate over sanctions, Bush criticized Congress for robbing the president of the freedom and flexibility he needed to conduct an effective foreign policy. In defense of executive authority, Bush stated that "My Administration has opposed congressional micro-management of foreign policy. Such legislation puts America in a straight jacket and can render us incapable of responding to changing circumstances."
Bush coupled this attack on congressional meddling with a conciliatory gesture. Simultaneously with his veto announcement, Bush promised to provide protection for the Chinese students equivalent to that contained in the Pelosi bill through the issuance of an executive order. He also met with Chinese student leaders to appeal for their support.
Bush's goal was damage limitation. By offering to provide protection to the students through executive action, the president hoped to convince legislators that congressional passage of the Pelosi bill was unnecessary. Bush also believed that an executive order would have a less severe impact on relations with China, although the practical effect on the status of the students would be the same. Chinese authorities had expressed extreme displeasure with the Pelosi bill and threatened to cut off all student exchanges should it become law. Their criticisms of Bush's steps to protect Chinese students in the U.S. were, however, more muted. The Chinese, aware that a presidential order could be reversed more easily than a law passed by the Congress, considered quiet executive action less objectionable than legislative action. By substituting an executive order for the Pelosi bill, Bush could also avert the precedent of congressionally mandated restrictions on his own freedom of action and derail what he perceived as a humiliating congressional reproach to his broader strategy for dealing with China.
Bush's words and actions initially convinced very few congresspersons to abandon their support for the Pelosi bill. Many favored a legislative solution over Bush's executive order precisely because it would send a more potent signal of disapproval to Chinese authorities. It would also shift the initiative in the shaping of America's overall China policy more decisively from the president to Congress. Finally, given strong public sympathy for the Chinese students, many in Congress undoubtedly wished to claim credit for taking a step that was popular with their constituents.
Revelations in early December that the Bush Administration had carried out high level contacts with the Chinese government fundamentally changed the dynamics of the debate over the Pelosi bill. Shortly after the Tiananmen Square crackdown, the president had publicly declared that no U.S. officials above the level of Assistant Secretary would engage in diplomatic contacts with the Chinese government. In early December, however, the administration revealed that Deputy Secretary of State Lawrence Eagleberger and National Security Adviser Brent Scowcroft were meeting with Chinese officials in Beijing. The announcement was made only after the two U.S. officials were already in China.
While Bush argued that one goal of the Eagleberger/Scowcroft mission was to urge Chinese authorities to show greater respect for human rights, the primary objective of the trip was to explore ways to repair U.S.-Chinese relations. At a banquet held for the visiting American emissaries in Beijing, Brent Scowcroft assured Chinese leaders that he and his entourage had "come as friends" and added that "we extend our hand in friendship and hope that you will do the same." One unnamed administration official told the New York Times: "By sending a top White House official, it sends a political signal that we are now ready to resume relations on a more normal basis. We hope that we have reached the point where time heals all wounds and that once the public gets used to more normalized contacts it won't be focused on the past."
Congressional reaction to the Eagleberger/Scowcroft visit was critical. Steven Solarz (D-N.Y.) called the trip "a mistake" and "inappropriate." He suggested that the trip was "another example of the administration kowtowing to the Chinese." Senate Majority Leader George Mitchell (D-Mass.) remarked that "These actions make a mockery of our profession of concern for human rights and are inconsistent with our stated ideals."
A little over a week after this initial revelation, a CNN report based upon leaked information compelled the White House to admit that Scowcroft and Eagleberger had secretly traveled to China for a meeting with top Chinese officials the previous July, less than a month after the crackdown and shortly following Bush's order publicly forbidding high level contacts. Besides Scowcroft and Eagleberger themselves, only Bush and Baker had been aware of the July trip at the time. The White House staff, the State Department bureaucracy and the Congress were each excluded from knowledge.
Revelations about Scowcroft and Eagleberger's secret July trip only intensified congressional criticism of the Bush Administration and itís China policy. As New York Times correspondent Thomas Friedman suggested at the time, the debate over the Pelosi bill took on a new dimension: "While the matter at hand was Mr. Bush's veto...the real issue was broader: Congress' apparent loss of confidence in President Bush's handling of relations with China and the administration's attempt to win that confidence back before it loses control of the policy to legislators."
By late December, the prospects that Bush's veto might be upheld in Congress appeared bleak. Newt Gingrich (R-Ga.) declared that a veto override was a virtual certainty and predicted that a "vast majority" of Republicans would oppose the president. Mickey Edwards (R-Okla.) also predicted bipartisan opposition to the president. The president's willingness to conceal Scowcroft and Eagleberger's July trip undermined the credibility of Bush's promises to the Congress and fueled fears that the president could not be trusted to maintain his commitment to protect Chinese students from deportation. Steven Solarz (D-N.Y.), for instance, observed that if Bush could lie about not sending top officials to China, "then he simply cannot be relied upon not to rescind the executive order at some time in the future."
Had a vote taken place at this stage, the president's veto would likely have been overridden. Yet since Bushís veto and the ensuring debate over the Scowcroft/Eagleberger missions to China took place during a congressional recess, a veto override vote was delayed until late January. This provided the Bush Administration with the time needed to redefine the issue at hand and to transform revelations about secret meetings between administration officials and the Chinese government from a liability into an asset.
The administration mounted what New York Times correspondent Thomas Friedman referred to as the "most extensive lobbying effort by the White House on any foreign policy issue since Mr. Bush was elected." Since the veto override attempt could be defeated with the support of just over one third of the vote in a single house of Congress, the White House focused all of its lobbying efforts on the Senate, where prospects were considered better, while virtually ignoring the House of Representatives. Chief of Staff John Sununu and James Baker were dispatched to meet with many Senate Republicans while Bush personally lobbied others by phone.
Richard Nixon and Henry Kissinger lobbied Senate Republicans as well. Nixon and Kissinger had each visited China on separate occasions the previous Fall for non-official discussions with Chinese leaders. Each had publicly and privately urged Bush to place top priority on continued good relations with China. Nixon personally lobbied many Senate Republicans by phone. Alan Simpson (R-Wyo.) summarized the gist of Nixon's message: "Our foreign policy should not be a salve for our own offended sensibilities -- a mechanism for making us feel noble and true. Our foreign policy should be a tool for protecting our interests."
The basic thrust of Bush's appeal to Senate Republicans, however, was to emphasize the partisan nature of the attacks aimed his way by congressional Democrats in the weeks following the revelations of high level contacts with China. In a breakfast meeting with Senate Republicans just before the vote, Bush argued that Democrats were attempting to embarrass and weaken the administration. He pointed out that 1990 was an election year and asserted that the Democrats sought to undermine public confidence in the ability of a Republican administration to manage the nation's foreign policy by attacking Bush over China. Bush stressed that Senate Republicans had little to gain by helping the Democrats to end the president's perfect veto record while reassuring them that Chinese students would not be sent back against their will even if the Pelosi bill failed.
Bush ultimately succeeded in his efforts to redefine the debate from an institutional clash to a partisan conflict. Democrats in both chambers voted unanimously in favor of overriding Bush's veto. Republicans in the House voted 145-25 in favor of a veto override, showing slightly stronger support for the president than in the initial vote on the bill but still far short of the votes needed to sustain Bush's veto. The Senate vote, however, reflected the impact of Bush's lobbying efforts. Even as late as January 23, Republican Whip Alan Simpson (R-Wyo.) predicted that there would not be as many as five Republican votes in support of the president. In the end, however, thirty-seven Republican senators (including Simpson (R-Wyo.), who explained that he was persuaded by Nixon) abandoned their original support for the Pelosi Bill and voted to sustain Bush's veto. Only eight Republicans voted for an override. Of these, Slade Gorton (R-WA) and Pete Wilson's (R-Calif.) failures to support the president could be explained by the fact that each represented states (Washington and California, respectively) with large Asian-American constituencies that strongly supported the Pelosi bill.
Republican Alfonse D'Amato (R-N.Y.) remarked after the vote that he had been prepared to support an override of the president's veto until Bush phoned to stress that the Democrats were attempting to "give him a loss." Arlan Spector (R-Pa.) explained his reversal by observing that "the whole thing started to have the smell of the Congress trying to land a political punch on the president's nose and that made allot of us rally around our man." Republican Slade Gorton (R-WA) concluded that "the concern of upholding the president was greater than the reservations about the policy." According to Senate Minority Leader Robert Dole (R-Kan.), the attempt to override the presidentís veto of the Pelosi Bill was "not about China policy. Itís American politics. It is not freedom or morality or human rights -- it is bash Bush." Despite the willingness of most Senate Republicans to respond to Bush's partisan appeal, many again went out of their way after the vote to criticize Bush's overall approach to relations with China.
The MFN Debate
In each year from 1990 through 1992, Congress and the president clashed over congressional efforts to revoke or heavily condition the extension of MFN trade status to China. Of the three cases examined here, the MFN debate held the most significant and far reaching implications for Sino-American relations. By raising tariff levels on Chinese goods entering the American market by an average of 40%, the repeal of MFN status would strike at the heart of the rapidly growing commercial relations between the two countries. It also seems likely that the climate created by such a step would have precluded genuine cooperation over the range of political and security issues that concerned both the U.S. and China.
Precisely because the stakes were so high, President Bush sought an outright victory, rather than an ambiguous compromise, in his contest with the Congress over MFN. Each spring, Bush opened the annual congressional battle by waiving the legal requirement that China meet the free emigration standards set out in the Vanik-Jackson amendment and declaring his decision to extend Chinaís MFN status for the coming year. Congress responded by considering bills to reverse the presidentís decision. While some bills called for immediate revocation of Chinaís MFN status, debate revolved around those that conditioned Chinaís continuing MFN privileges on various steps demanded of Chinese authorities regarding improvements in Chinaís human rights performance and other issues (such as trade and weapons proliferation). While the House passed a strong anti-MFN measure in 1990, the Senate failed to vote on the issue that year. In both 1991 and 1992, however, the House and the Senate each passed bills, by large majorities, that proposed to severely condition the extension of MFN to China.
In each case, Bush vetoed these anti-MFN measures and prepared to resist subsequent congressional attempts to override his vetoes. The outcome was the same in both 1991 and 1992: although the House voted to override the presidentís veto by more than the necessary two-thirds majority, Bushís veto was narrowly upheld in the Senate, where the president had targeted his lobbying efforts.
Bush clearly failed to convince most members of Congress that China should be extended unconditional MFN status. Indeed, roughly 85% of the members of the House and Senate together lined up against the presidentís position in the veto override votes of 1991 and 1992. The president benefited greatly from the constitutional provision that separate two-thirds majorities are required in both chambers of the Congress before a presidential veto can be overridden. Despite this considerable advantage, however, Bushís victory in the showdown over Chinaís MFN status could not be taken for granted. In 1992, the president vetoed two separate bills (HR 2212 and HR 5318) that each would have placed severe conditions on MFN renewal. In the case of the first bill (HR 2212), 60 senators voted to override Bushís veto, while 59 voted for similar action on the second bill (HR 5318). Had only a handful of senators defected from the blocking coalition that Bush succeeded in assembling in the Senate, legislation placing heavy conditions on Chinaís MFN renewal would have passed over the objections of the president.
What sort of political strategy allowed President Bush to avoid this outcome? Most importantly, Bush attempted to steer the debate over MFN toward an axis of conflict where he could be assured of strong support from powerful societal actors. The president emphasized the economic costs to American business and to the U.S. economy as a whole that would follow from a deterioration in U.S.-Chinese commercial ties. By doing so, Bush, with help from a private sector lobbying coalition, succeeded in persuading a swing group of senators that their own political interests lie in support for unconditional MFN extension, regardless of their repugnance toward the repressive actions of Chinese authorities.
This emphasis on economics was evident in Bush Press Secretary Marlin Fitzwaterís assertion that withdrawing MFN "would inflict severe costs on American business people, investors and consumers," and impose "a multi-billion-dollar surcharge on American consumer imports." Bush sought to drive this message home to the Congress by encouraging private sector interests to take an active role in the debate. According to Robert Ross, Bush aides let it be known that it was up to "members of Congress and groups in the private sector with an interest in U.S.-Chinese trade to fight the battle for retaining MFN."
A variety of U.S. business interests were indeed threatened by the potential demise of Chinaís MFN status. Removal of MFN, for instance, would have directly harmed U.S. retailers dependent upon the sale of Chinese-made goods, such as toys, footwear and apparel. The many American firms that had invested in China itself also faced serious reverses. A significant share of Chinese exports to the U.S. was accounted for by goods originating in factories partially or wholly owned by American corporations.
American exporters also had reason to fear the effects of MFN removal. Chinese authorities repeatedly warned that U.S. failure to renew Chinaís MFN status would result in retaliatory sanctions placed on American exports to China. These warnings were often targeted at particular classes of U.S. exports, in hopes that firms in these threatened industries would step up their lobbying activities on behalf of MFN renewal. Chinese authorities, for instance, threatened to halt future purchases of American grain. In June 1991, similar warnings were directed toward the Boeing Corporation, which did $4 billion worth of business in China in 1990. Boeingís representative in China, Thomas Lane, later remarked that Boeing took the MFN issue "very seriously" and that Boeing supported unconditional extension. Grant Hanson, a spokesperson for the Nike Corporation which produced and exported sports shoes from China in a joint venture with a Chinese firm, expressed the same fears: "We're clearly concerned about counter-retaliation by the Chinese."
Even American exports spared such sanctions could be expected to suffer as Chinaís reduced ability to earn U.S. dollars on its own exports undermined its capacity to finance continued U.S. imports at previous levels. Among the biggest losers among U.S. exporters would have been wheat and soybean growers, timber firms, commercial airline manufacturers, phosphate fertilizer producers and makers of mining and construction equipment.
Business interests with trade or investment ties to China lobbied vigorously in favor of unconditional MFN renewal. Much of this activity was channeled through existing or ad hoc business associations. The U.S.-China Business Council, for instance, represented the interests of over 300 member corporations with investment interests in China. Backed by a $3 million annual budget, the Council played a key role in defending U.S. commercial ties to the Chinese market. Roger Sullivan, Council president at the time of the MFN debate and a former Assistant Deputy Secretary of State for East Asian and Pacific Affairs, acknowledged that he "provided the [Bush] administration with solicited and unsolicited advice" on the MFN issue. The Council prepared and disseminated studies on the effects of removing MFN on various sectors of U.S. business. Other MFN-related activities included congressional lobbying, the organization of several conferences and a media campaign designed to influence public opinion. These various programs were coordinated through an MFN Working Group convened by the Council.
Other business groups also campaigned on behalf of MFN renewal, including the National Association of Manufacturers, the American Toy Association, U.S. Wheat Associates, the National Foreign Trade Council, the Northwest Regional China Council and the American Soybean Association. The U.S. Chamber of Commerce played perhaps the most important role. The Chamber helped to organize an ad hoc umbrella organization called the Business Coalition for U.S.-China Trade which included 125 business groups, such as those mentioned above, and individual firms. The Coalition served to coordinate the lobbying activities of its members and to hone a consistent message.
Some American economic groups, of course, stood to benefit from restrictions on the flow of Chinese goods to the U.S. market. The removal of MFN would have relieved the competitive pressures brought to bear on domestic textile producers by the growing volume of Chinese-made cloth and apparel imports. For similar reasons, the AFL-CIO and a number of individual labor unions favored economic sanctions against China, in apparent hopes that a lessening of Chinese imports would restore American jobs in a number of crucially affected industries. Still, the economic interests favoring MFN removal were narrow in scope and only modestly engaged by the issue. The textile industry remained largely silent during the MFN debate. Its interests were, however, well represented by Senator Jesse Helms (R-N.C.), a longtime supporter of the many textile producers located in his home state and a vocal critic of the Chinese government. Similarly, while the AFL-CIO mounted a modest campaign in favor of revoking Chinaís MFN privileges, the group did not consider the issue a top priority.
The effects of pro-MFN lobbying activities by private sector organizations, as well as those initiated by the administration itself, were evident in the votes cast by those senators representing states most likely to incur negative effects from the withdrawal of Chinaís MFN status. On July 23, 1991, for instance, the Senate voted 55-44 to pass HR 2212, a bill that would have imposed tough conditions on the renewal of Chinaís MFN status. This margin of victory fell short of the two-thirds support that would have been necessary to override a presidential veto. Each of the seven Democrats who voted against HR 2212 [Max Baucus (D-Mont.), John Breaux (D-La.), Quentin Burdick (D-N.D.), Kent Conrad (D-N.D.), James Exon (D-Neb.), J. Bennett Johnson (D-La.), Richard Shelby (D-Ala.)] represented farm states with substantial agricultural exports to China. Also voting against HR 2212 were the two Republican senators from Oregon (Mark Hatfield (R-Ore.) and Bob Packwood(R-Ore.), a state in which timber interests with strong ties to China possessed considerable economic and political clout.
The influence of pro-China business interests should not be exaggerated in this case. Clearly, such groups lacked the ability to reverse overwhelming congressional opposition to the unconditional renewal of Chinaís MFN status. The marginal effect of business lobbying, however, appears to have been crucial. It seems unlikely that Bushís veto of various anti-MFN bills passed by the Congress could have been consistently sustained without the pressure brought to bear on key senators by a coalition of pro-MFN business groups.
President Bush, moreover, clearly considered business support important to his political strategy for avoiding a congressional reversal on the MFN issue. By attempting to steer the debate over MFN toward a focus on U.S. economic interests, Bush and his spokespersons also sought to enhance the reception that business lobbyists would enjoy on Capitol Hill and to ensure that both the administration and its private sector allies offered a consistent message.
Assessing the Outcome
Who prevailed in the contest between the president and the Congress over control of U.S. China policy? The outcome of this struggle tilted in favor of the president. Although compelled to accept relatively tough sanctions legislation aimed at China, Bush frustrated Congress' intent by diluting or waiving the most serious measures. Congress succeeded in forcing Bush to issue an executive order allowing Chinese students to remain in the U.S. beyond their normal visa limits. Nevertheless, Bush rallied enough support among Republican senators to forestall a legislative solution that might have reduced his future flexibility, heightened the negative impact on U.S.-Chinese relations and established a precedent for subsequent congressional challenges to the president's foreign policy authority. Finally, on the most critical issue of the three, Bush beat back congressional efforts to remove MFN treatment of American imports from China. Overall, the debate over U.S. China policy revealed that the presidency still retains important institutional and political advantages vis a vis Congress in bargaining over policy, even in an era of congressional assertiveness and a pluralistic domestic environment.
Bush's victories were, however, considerably less than complete. The president found himself forced to make important concessions in the cases of sanctions and the Pelosi Bill. Rather than defending a realist rationale for his policies, Bush was compelled to accept human rights criteria as the primary standard for measuring policy success. Moreover, Bush's confrontations with the Congress consumed considerable political capital that might have otherwise been applied to other issues.
Regarding the policy's ultimate international impact, the case of U.S. China policy reveals the costs of unresolved executive-congressional conflict over foreign policy. Arguably, the incoherent, hybrid policy that resulted from the domestic debate over U.S. China policy achieved the worst of both worlds. Bush only partially succeeded in insulating U.S.-Chinese relations from long term damage. Chinese authorities reacted with defensive consternation to congressional attacks and the relatively mild sanctions ultimately imposed. The administration managed to secure China's tacit cooperation with U.S. policy toward the Persian Gulf War, thus avoiding a Chinese veto that would have stymied the U.N. Security Council from authorizing the use of force against Iraq. Still, Chinese behavior on other issues, such as trade restrictions, infringement of intellectual property rights and the sale of missile technology to anti-Western states, continued to defy American wishes.
Nor did U.S. policy achieve Congress' goal of compelling an improvement in China's human rights record. Despite occasional concessions timed to coincide with impending congressional votes, Chinese authorities continued to deal repressively with internal political opponents. The policy that emerged from executive-congressional dickering was tough enough to irritate U.S.-Chinese relations but not tough enough to compel changes in China's human rights behavior. The policy's impact abroad satisfied the desires of neither the president nor the Congress.
Conclusion
In broader terms, this case suggests three tentative conclusions about the domestic politics of U.S. foreign policy in the post-Cold War era:
1) Shrinking perceptions of external threat are associated with declining levels of domestic unity over foreign policy issues. The post-Cold War period is therefore likely to usher in an era of greater domestic division over foreign affairs.
2) These cleavages are typically cross-cutting, meaning that for particular actors political commitments and stakes shift across different axes of conflict. The possible political coalitions that develop around a specific issue are therefore likely to vary depending upon which axis of conflict is most salient in the public debate.
3) While greater domestic disunity complicates the presidentís task for gaining domestic political legitimacy for his policies and, on balance, enhances the power of the Congress vis a vis the Executive branch, a politically skilled president can limit the erosion of presidential power on foreign policy issues by manipulating domestic cleavages. In particular, presidents can alter likely political coalitions in their favor by shifting the terms of debate away from unfavorable axes of conflict and toward those more amenable to presidential influence.
If, then, presidents are unlikely to enjoy the sort of unchallenged supremacy in foreign affairs that attached to the executive branch during the Cold War, neither should we expect the post-Cold War era to bring a radical shift toward congressional predominance. The president still possesses considerable political advantages -- even when facing a particularly assertive Congress, such as in the case of U.S. China policy following Tiananmen Square. It does seem evident, however, that the practice of defending executive branch control over U.S. foreign policy by manipulating cross-cutting domestic cleavages is poorly suited to fashioning and sustaining the sort of coherent, long term international strategy that the U.S. pursued in the decades after World War II. Instead, U.S. foreign policy in the post-Cold war period will be cobbled together in a piecemeal manner and built upon shifting coalitions and rationales that vary from case to case and issue to issue.
Notes