Think the last month looked bad for bilateral trade? Some reasons to look on the bright side.
Skim the economic headlines of the past few weeks, and it would be easy to mistake the media frenzy over China for a sign that its economic partnership with the United States has about reached its limits.
First the Obama administration blocks a Chinese-owned company from investing in four wind-farm projects in Oregon. Days later comes a House report blasting the telecommunications firms Huawei and ZTE over cyberespionage concerns -- a paper that coincides with an aggressive 60 Minutes segment on precisely the same subject. Then the White House slaps tariffs totaling as high as 40 percent against solar panels exported by dozens of Chinese companies -- an attempt to counter the "dumping" of Chinese silicon products into the American market.
If that weren't enough, Mitt Romney and Barack Obama have wasted no opportunity to criticize Beijing on currency manipulation and outsourcing as the U.S. presidential campaigns enters their final weeks.
The pace and pitch of the reports sound more like a 19th-century case study in protectionism than a series of unhappy coincidences taking place in the 21st. But if there's any pattern to be found here, it's that these incidents merely represent the next chapter in a long and complex history.
It's not hard to understand where the anxiety comes from. If economic interdependence is a contributor to bilateral peace, then rebuffing Chinese attempts to invest in America risks creating opportunities for conflict. Beyond the frustration that that engenders on either side of the Pacific, Chinese firms that perceive the United States as a hostile place to do business might be inclined to invest elsewhere and hasten the rise of other would-be foreign rivals. Is U.S. national security worth the price of these opportunity costs? Caution might imply that it is. But that doesn't mean we've crossed an economic Rubicon.
It's best not to read too much into the hype. The specifics of these recent cases should help explain why. In the wind-farm example, Obama ordered the Chinese-owned Ralls Corp. to divest its funds after a nine-agency federal task force concluded the national security risks associated with the deal had no effective remedy. (Several of the planned wind turbines would have been in or near U.S. Navy-restricted airspace.) It's rare for the federal committee, CFIUS, to recommend nixing a deal -- it hasn't happened for more than two decades. But the last time it occurred, guess what: It involved a transaction by another Chinese company, China National Aero-Technology and Export Corp. We've been here before, and the U.S.-China relationship emerged no worse for wear.
Special circumstances mark the case of Huawei, too. The world of cybersecurity is still new and loosely defined. Washington knows relatively little about how it's vulnerable, electronically; even less about the right tools it needs to defend those weaknesses; and still less what cyberweapons foreign governments have in their arsenals. Under these conditions, fearful rhetoric about what might happen can easily trump tempered analyses about what's most likely to happen. It doesn't help matters that Huawei, the company in the hotseat, was founded by a former Chinese army officer -- a matter that only heightens suspicion against the firm. It's only natural that U.S. policymakers would get skittish about something like this. If the two countries' positions were reversed, Chinese leaders might well react the same way.