Asia
Lunacy: Australia pays the US billions to “keep those Chinese at bay”
When Canberra told us we had to join the US in its cruel attempt to prevent a Vietnamese peasant army from overthrowing a US-armed Saigon government, some of us thought the politicians were plain stupid. When they told us the men on bicycles wearing rubber sandals were the puppets of a China seeking to thrust Continue reading »
The Gilded Cage: Technology, Development, and State Capitalism in China – review
In The Gilded Cage: Technology, Development, and State Capitalism in China, Ya-Wen Lei explores how China has reshaped its economy and society in recent decades, from the era of Chen Yun to the leadership of Xi Jinping. Lei’s meticulous analysis illuminates how China’s blend of marketisation and authoritarianism has engendered a unique techno-developmental capitalism, writes George Hong Jiang.
Twenty years ago, people inside and outside China were wondering whether the country would eventually capitulate to dominant capitalist and democratic models. American politicians such as Bill Clinton were enthusiastically looking forward to the future integration of China into globalisation. When this happened, millions of ordinary people would get rich and become the middle class through fast-growing international trade and domestic labour-intensive industries. However, this judgment quickly proved ill-made. China has simultaneously emulated the US in high-tech industries but also become an unparalleled authoritarian state which polices its citizens through intellectual technology and high-tech instruments. How has it achieved this, and what are the effects of this? Lei tries to untangle these questions in her book, The Gilded Cage: Technology, Development, and State Capitalism in China.
The author was inspired by the “birdcage economy” of Chen Yun when choosing the title of the book.[…] Statist control is the cage, and private economies, like captive birds, are only allowed to fly within the cage.
The author was inspired by the “birdcage economy” of Chen Yun when choosing the title of the book (5). Building the planned economy in the early 1950s and supporting economic reforms in the 1980s, Chen Yun was one of the most important architects of economic systems in communist China. While he was a proponent of giving more space to private economies, Chen Yun staunchly believed in the efficacy of governmental regulations. Statist control is the cage, and private economies, like captive birds, are only allowed to fly within the cage. Chen Yun was particularly cautious about liberalist reforms, such as deregulation of finance and fiscal decentralisation, and distinctly opposed to privatisation. After he died in 1995, Deng Xiaoping and his disciples, including Jiang Zemin and Hu Jintao, carried out deregulation bravely until the late 2000s. But the ideal of Chen Yun’s “birdcage economy” is never abandoned by communists who fear losing control over the society.
The 2008 financial crisis started China’s big turn of macroeconomic policies. In order to stimulate the deflated economy, the government reacted fast and invested enormous capital into a few key strategic industries, including bio-manufacturing industry and aircraft and electronic manufacturing. Ling & Naughton (2016) believe that this action signalled the watershed of China’s economic orientation. The government’s budget poured into these industries, and bureaucratic units responsible for supervision and regulation turned to interventionist policies. The trend was further strengthened after Xi Jinping, who believes that the combination of the free market economy and Leninist political principles is the best blueprint for China, ascended to the presidency in 2012.
New leadership since the 2010s wants to emulate western high-end development rather than provide low-end, cheap and labour-intensive products for the West.
The ambition to develop high-tech industries runs in tandem with the unique political system of China. Economic growth has helped sustain political legitimacy of the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) since the 1980s. Since socialism was smeared by the Cultural Revolution (1966-1976) and its disastrous economic consequences, economic growth has been identified as the most important source of political legitimacy. Economic performance has become the indicator of bureaucratic promotion, which has fused China’s politics and economies together. This political organisational mechanism makes it easier for leaders to push through any desired change and it is on this that China’s turn to techno-development (Chapter Three) is precisely based. New leadership since the 2010s wants to emulate western high-end development rather than provide low-end, cheap and labour-intensive products for the West.
Still, a key question must be answered: why are Chinese bureaucrats who care primarily about social stability and political monopoly willing to replace human labour with robots, which tends to reduce employment in the short run? In Chapter Five, the author traces the process of robotisation in firms which previously rely on cheap labour, including Foxconn. While the benefits of robotisation might be obvious to entrepreneurs aspiring to reduce costs by any means, potential instability could cause trouble for communist bureaucrats. The answer lies in the possibility that technological upgrades will lead to an enlarging economy capable of digesting more workers than it kicks out. However, it results in a dilemma: if the growth rate slows down, the appetite for mechanisation and robotisation could stir social tensions.
Seeing the chance to surpass the West in the development of high-tech industries, the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) is more than willing to strengthen control over public spheres and civil society and increase investment in the sector to achieve this.
Seeing the chance to surpass the West in the development of high-tech industries, the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) is more than willing to strengthen control over public spheres and civil society and increase investment in the sector to achieve this. As the author puts it, “the Chinese state is an unwavering believer in intellectual technology and instrumental power and employs both to enhance governance and the economy” (9). It is highly possible that with the help of an authoritarian regime and its will to develop technological capability, the dismal future that Max Weber once predicted – ie, the “iron cage of bureaucracy” in which depersonalised and ossified instrumental rationality will dominate every sphere in the society – will come sooner in China than in the West.
Economic growth is mainly driven by high-tech industries that private and state-owned capital foster, both of which must be under the control of the government, with the unified aim of rejuvenating the Chinese nation.
Karl Marx argued that productive power, including technological conditions, determines relations of production. This idea is being justified in China. A mix between marketised economies and authoritarian rule, which is penetrated by high-tech instruments, facilitate the rise of techno-developmental capitalism, as the author proposes in Chapter Nine. On the one hand, large tech companies in China have hatched one of the biggest markets in the world. On the other hand, tech professionals’ increasing demand for institutional (if not political) reforms (Chapter Eight) renders bureaucrats gradually more concerned about their social influence. For instance, Jack Ma, the boss of Alibaba, attacked the state-owned financial system and instantly got punished by the authority. China is developing a new variant of capitalism: economic growth is mainly driven by high-tech industries that private and state-owned capital foster, both of which must be under the control of the government, with the unified aim of rejuvenating the Chinese nation.
Techno-developmental capitalism is not the result of contingency, but path-dependent outcome, the direct result of China’s polities.
The author includes an excellent range of relevant materials into the book, spanning academic literature and personal interviews with private entrepreneurs and IT practitioners. Lei also bravely applies the term “instrumental rationality” in relation to China’s socioeconomic reality. In so doing she identifies the Janus-faced nature of China’s technological development, whereby the society enjoys higher productivity but becomes more rigid and occluded due to the omnipotent techno-bureaucracy. Nonetheless, the book could have been improved if Lei could take China’s political-economic structure into account when explaining the motivation to develop high-tech industries. While Lei focuses on the era after the 2000s, the rise of techno-developmental capitalism is deeply rooted in the persistent logic of the CCP since the late 1970s. In other words, techno-developmental capitalism is not the result of contingency, but a path-dependent outcome, the direct result of China’s polity. In spite of this lack of fully examined historical dimensions, Lei presents a good guidebook for China’s holistic development, not just within the last two decades but also in the decades to come.
Note: This post gives the views of the author, and not the position of the LSE Review of Books blog, or of the London School of Economics and Political Science.
Image credit: B.Zhou on Shutterstock.
Playing the hunger games
The nightmare sprung to life: A gang. Worse, an Asian teen gang. An hour before dawn. I’m alone. With a bike. A dozen or more boys fired up with freedom, yahooing down the lampless highway, bashing bushes, tossing fire crackers, chiacking. Strife seems likely. There are no side roads for a speedy escape. Maybe a Continue reading »
China is chastised for its new boundary in Tonkin Gulf
China is one of the most misunderstood and maligned nations when it comes to what it does and does not do in the South China Sea, and that it claims almost all features. China’s nine-dash line controversial claim in the South China Sea is actively challenged by five other coastal states in the region including Continue reading »
Reframing the problem of India’s street dogs
India’s millions of stray dogs coexist largely peacefully with humans, however, an increase in dog attacks and the prevalence of rabies cases has sparked calls to introduce stronger policy to reduce their numbers. In this essay, Pupul Dutta Prasad applies insights from Tim Newburn and Andrew Ward‘s book, Orderly Britain: How Britain Has Resolved Everyday Problems, from Dog Fouling to Double Parking, to consider how India could reframe its approach to the street dog issue.
In Orderly Britain, Professor of Criminology and Social Policy at LSE Tim Newburn (whose outstanding contribution to these fields has recently been celebrated) and journalist Andrew Ward succeed in foregrounding the ordinary, the mundane, and the marginal in service of a deeper purpose. The authors turn their gaze on dog fouling, smoking, drinking, queuing, using public toilets, and parking as a means of exploring changing social order in Britain. Rather than review the book (which has been done on this blog and elsewhere), I want to consider how the insights into dealing with everyday issues in Britain can be applied in other contexts, specifically, how Britain’s approach to dog fouling could be drawn upon to develop a better understanding of India’s problem with street dogs and some of the ways being publicly discussed to tackle it.
The authors make two key observations in their analysis which are relevant when looking beyond Britain. First, they assert that meaningful enquiry into everyday social problems should involve taking a step back and looking at genealogy – how certain routines come to be viewed as problems in the first place. A key point the authors underline in this regard is that a thing does not get defined as a social problem without itself undergoing a social process. That process is often a site of contestation between contrasting perspectives or claims advanced by different groups with varying levels of influence.
[The authors] assert that meaningful enquiry into everyday social problems should involve taking a step back and looking at genealogy – how certain routines come to be viewed as problems in the first place.
Second, they take note of measures taken in response to a behaviour – previously tolerated – that begins to be thought of collectively as a social problem. Here, the authors draw our attention to formal mechanisms (laws, regulations, courts, etc.) as well as informal ones (social pressure and expectations). They observe that whereas the two frequently act in concert, in some respects it is often the less formal modes of control that have a greater impact.
Both the insights are substantiated, and indeed reinforced, by what the authors find to be the case with dog fouling. Their examination shows that in recent decades dog waste transformed from something that was once seen merely as unpleasant into a social problem requiring intervention. The presence of dog waste in public spaces has increasingly become perceived as a civic and moral failure, not just a public health risk. This has ensured that most dog owners in Britain now pick up and dispose of their dog’s faeces because they feel encouraged, via more informal means, to fulfil the social expectation placed on them. Fines and other penalties introduced for those that fail to “do the right thing” have of course played a part too.
At the outset, I ought to clear up that dog waste in public places does not get the attention in India which it does in Britain. This is not to pass any judgments on the comparative standards of public hygiene and individual conduct. Rather, the point of interest to me is that the lack of social concern for dog poo speaks precisely to the deeper sociological roots of problem-creation which Newburn and Ward highlight. Extrapolating that insight from their work, even though sections of the Indian citizenry presumably are troubled by dog fouling, in the collective mind of the society it is yet to be embedded as a problem.
Street dogs have long been an integral part of everyday life in India […] At the same time, they have adversely affected many lives as a source of rabies and other harm.
In contrast, the same is certainly not true of what is typically known as the “menace” or “terror” of street dogs. The term encompasses both those that have strayed from home or been abandoned and homeless, free-ranging dogs that have never had owners. Street dogs have long been an integral part of everyday life in India, with at least a handful of individuals in every community happy to feed them and have them around. At the same time, they have adversely affected many lives as a source of rabies and other harm. A public concern for health and safety and a consequent opposition to street dogs has recently been growing.
There are some notable factors behind the change in social attitudes towards street dogs. First is the sheer number of these dogs. One estimate puts their total population at roughly 59 million. In addition, the general perception is that the numbers are swelling all the time due to an ineffective regime for checking their overpopulation. Second, dog bites and attacks from free-roaming dogs, particularly afflicting children, are thought to be on the rise. With rabies cases and deaths in India being the highest worldwide, the danger such incidents pose to public health and safety has grown. Finally, the public anxiety over street dogs has been exacerbated by horrifying stories and videos on social and other media of children getting bitten and mauled by dogs, at times fatally.
In some instances the dogs involved in attacks are pets – “dangerous breeds” and “status dogs” like Pit Bulls, American Bulldogs, and Rottweilers – not the unsophisticated Indian pariah dogs on the street. Yet, this does not seem to cause as much outrage against the foreign species and their irresponsible, (mostly) rich owners. Implicit in this difference could be a power dynamic, a stronger hostility towards street dogs based on sheer numbers, or both. That said, a distinct social construction of the problem of street dogs in India is noticeable.
The contention is that the Animal Birth Control (ABC) Rules, 2023 (first introduced in 2001) take away the discretionary power local authorities had to remove, euthanise or kill stray dogs for keeping public spaces safe.
A growing demand for stringent measures to curb the menace of stray dogs is now evident. The focus of this demand is primarily on the control of their population. Some argue that the need for decisive action to achieve reduction in their population warrants a new legal option. The contention is that the Animal Birth Control (ABC) Rules, 2023 (first introduced in 2001) take away the discretionary power local authorities had to remove, euthanise or kill stray dogs for keeping public spaces safe. On this view, the ABC rules are effectively preventing the problem from being brought under control. The assumption behind it seems to be that street dog management through methods such as sterilisation and vaccination programmes, dog shelters, and garbage collection are either insufficient or have failed. A legal challenge to the ABC Rules is currently being heard by the Supreme Court of India.
Irrespective of what the judicial outcome is, there are grounds for scepticism that licence to exterminate street dogs will work, or be morally acceptable to the public. Even taking an instrumentalist point of view, experience shows that the existing statutory duty to sterilise and vaccinate street dogs has been neglected for reasons like lack of resources and lower prioritisation. This begs the question of how any new provision could be implemented. Moreover, the unbridled power sought to destroy street dogs raises animal rights and welfare issues including that of cruelty. Another dimension of the formal (lethal) means of addressing the problem is that it risks displacing the less formal (humane) ways, whose importance in shaping behavioural change comes out remarkably well in Newburn and Ward’s analysis.
A key – though often obscured – informal element in the Indian context is that humans and street dogs have become socialised to each other’s presence.
In my view, a key – though often obscured – informal element in the Indian context is that humans and street dogs have become socialised to each other’s presence. Both groups seem to have learned to go about their lives unperturbed by the other, making for proportionally low human-dog conflict, given the numbers in question. (See the pictures below of Shimla, the town where I live and work.)
Dogs and humans coexisting in Shimla. Credit: Dr Pupul Dutta Prasad.
In fact, one could make a valid argument for nurturing and consolidating this social bond between the two by explaining to people, especially school children, how to behave with street dogs. As environmentalist Ranjit Lal asserts, how a dog behaves depends a lot on how it has been treated. Others have also argued in favour of managing human conflicts with dogs by “putting double the effort in[to] educating the local community” about acting responsibly while feeding street dogs. Applying sociological insights from Newburn and Ward’s work enables a deeper and more nuanced understanding of India’s street dog problem. Clearly, there is a lot more to it than treating street dogs themselves as the problem and calling for a radical solution like culling.
Note: This essay gives the views of the author, and not the position of the LSE Review of Books blog, or of the London School of Economics and Political Science.
Image Credit: Pupul Dutta Prasad.
Industrial Policy in Turkey: Rise, Retreat and Return – review
In Industrial Policy in Turkey: Rise, Retreat and Return, Mina Toksoz, Mustafa Kutlay and William Hale analyse Turkey’s industrial policy over the past century, highlighting the interplay of global paradigms, macroeconomic stability and domestic institutional contexts. The book offers a timely analyses of industrial policy’s past and possible future trajectories, though it stops short of interrogating exactly how cultural, social, political and economic factors shape state-business relations and bureaucracy, writes M Kerem Coban.
Industrial Policy in Turkey: Rise, Retreat and Return. Edinburgh University Press. 2023.
Is industrial policy back? The Biden administration’s Inflation Reduction Act and the CHIPS and Science Act, or the 2016 UK industrial policy are only two contemporary examples. These policies seek to address value chain bottlenecks, as well as the question of how to “take back control” in manufacturing and key sectors, along with concerns about gaining or sustaining economic edge and autonomy
In this context, the Turkish experience is illustrative for making sense of the trajectory of industrial policy in a major developing country. Mina Toksoz, Mustafa Kutlay and William Hale examine the evolution of industrial policy in Turkey. They present an accessible, detailed account of the trajectory and evolution of the policy since the establishment of the Republic, which argues that we had better study “the conditions under which state intervention works, rather than whether the state should intervene in the economy” (26, emphasis in original).
[The authors] suggest that effective industrial policy is the outcome of the interaction between global development policy paradigms, macroeconomic (in)stability, and the domestic institutional context.
The book is divided into five chapters. Chapter One discusses the political economy of industrial policy and sets out an analytical framework. The authors assert that analyses should go beyond dichotomies (eg, horizontal vs. vertical policies; export-led vs. import-substituting industrialisation) and that a broader understanding requires identifying the factors and conditions of effective industrial policy. They suggest that effective industrial policy is the outcome of the interaction between global development policy paradigms, macroeconomic (in)stability, and the domestic institutional context. Global development policy paradigms evolved from étatism of the 1930s, import-substituting industrialisation in the 1960s and the 1970s, neoliberalism of the 1980s, and the return of industrial policy after the 2008 Financial Crisis. Macroeconomic (in)stability drives (un)certainty regarding economic policies and instruments and the trajectory of economy, which, in turn, regulates investment decisions. Finally, the domestic institutional context concerns how state-society, or state-business, relations are structured, whether the state capacity is sufficient to resolve conflicts, discipline and coordinate actor behaviour, and whether bureaucracy has capabilities to formulate and implement policies. Figure 1 seeks to summarise the main argument of the book.
Figure 1: Flow chart summarising the book’s main argument. Source: M Kerem Coban.
Chapter Two focuses on the longue durée between 1923 and 1980. From the ashes of incessant wars that ruined the already unsophisticated infrastructure and demographic challenge, the new Republic had to build a new nation. Yet the rise of the state interventionist era in the 1930s drove policymakers towards the first industrialisation plan and the opening of many industrial sites across the country. When the Democrat Party assumed power, the interventionist, planning-based industrial policy was scrutinised for liberalisation that even included state-owned enterprises to be released to set up their own prices (73).
At the same time, business was encouraged to invest. For example, the fruits of these included Otosan or BOSSA (75). Between 1960 and 1980, the authors underline the second planning period with the establishment of the State Planning Organisation (SPO). SPO boosted bureaucratic and planning capacity and capabilities for disciplined, systematic industrial policy during the era of import-substitution.
Between 1980 and 2000 […] Turkey shifted to export-led growth and liberalised trade and financial flows. These shifts had profound implications for bureaucracy
The third chapter examines demoted industrial policy between 1980 and 2000 when Turkey shifted to export-led growth and liberalised trade and financial flows. These shifts had profound implications for bureaucracy: SPO was sidelined, parallel bureaucratic networks of Ozal were implanted with the opening of new offices or agencies. Consequently, the role of state became less coherent, as political uncertainty driven by unstable coalitions eroded the market-shaping role of the state. The financial sector did not help industrial policy, since banks were dominantly financing chronic budget deficits during a period of high inflation (111). What is more, business, including Islamic conservative SMEs in Anatolia, reduced or ignored investments in manufacturing given the clientelist state-business relations that incentivised construction, real-estate development (115), emphasis in original). Finally, the external conditions were not disciplinary: accession to the Customs Union with the European Union and the World Trade Organization ruled out export support and import restricting measures, among other trade regulatory instruments.
The fourth chapter claims that industrial policy retreated between 2001 and 2009. The first years of this period was marked by political instability and a local systemic banking crisis and its resolution, and Justice and Development Party (AKP in Turkish) assumed power. During this period, industrial policy was dominated by institutionalisation of the regulatory state and the privatisation of state-owned enterprises, the establishment of autonomous regulatory agencies and are structured banking sector. While the regulatory capacity of the state increased, privatisation and the regulation of the market were highly politicised. For example, “a major cycle of gas privatisation saw ‘politically connected persons’ winning fifteen out of nineteen metropolitan centres and serving 76 percent of the population” (161). In such a politically compromised setting, which was accompanied by the institutionalisation of the capital inflow-dependent credit-led growth model that prioritised “rent-thick” sectors, industrial policy could not flourish.
While the regulatory capacity of the state increased, privatisation and the regulation of the market were highly politicised.
The fifth chapter locates the policy within the global ideational and political economic context that marks the return of industrial policy in various forms. In line with policy documents such as the 11th Development Plan, horizontal measures, private and public R&D spending on high-tech initiatives, electric vehicle manufacturing attempt, and most notably the advancements in defence sector have constituted the revival of industrial policy. At the same time, the authors point to several challenges such as eroded academic research and quality and a lack of investment in ICT skills. Additionally, R&D subsidies or other industrial policy measures require thorough performance criteria and measurement to discipline actor behaviour and regulate the incentive structures.
Industrial Policy in Turkey is a timely contribution to the current debate. Its historical account and analysis of current policies, instruments, and the potential trajectory of industrial policy are its main strengths. Still, there are several caveats. First, the book’s framework is not systematic, which causes some confusion. For example, the book does not demonstrate a convincing link between the role and impact of autonomous agencies on industrial policy. Second, the book leaves the reader with more questions than answers, one of which relates to the effect of bureaucratic fragmentation in shaping industrial policy. Another is around the implications of state-business for bureaucracy, and consequently, industrial policy.
The book leaves the reader with more questions than answers, one of which relates to the effect of bureaucratic fragmentation in shaping industrial policy.
Third, the trajectory of industrial policy cannot be considered independently from the shifts in growth models. Yet the fact these shifts occur because the country depends on hard currency earnings for capital accumulation and to finance consumption and investments: Turkey either relies on capital flows or export earnings, in addition to tourism and (un)recorded (illicit) flows. Pendulums between these channels imply that the country cannot design and implement disciplined, systematic industrial policy. Put differently, there are macroeconomic and financial structural impediments against generating hard currency earnings. Industrial policy is one of the remedies, however, the macroeconomic and structural transformative consequences of the latest episode of emphasis on industrial policy and the export-driven growth experiment in Turkey are yet to be seen.
Finally, and perhaps most importantly, the book tends to relegate a core problem of coordination, long-term policy design and implementation to “governance issues”. Deeper cultural, social, political and economic factors determine the clientelist state-business relations and their effect on bureaucracy and bureaucratic autonomy. Such deeper ties have been masked by instrumentalised “democratisation reforms” or higher economic growth rates in the previous years. In this context, is the more critical problem the purposefully immobilised or challenged infrastructural power to coordinate societal actors? If that is true, then should we make interdisciplinary attempts to identify this problem’s core determinants?
Note: This interview gives the views of the author, and not the position of the LSE Review of Books blog, or of the London School of Economics and Political Science.
Image credit: Chongsiri Chaitongngam on Shutterstock.
ASEAN carpet baggers
Without a hint of embarrassment, Australian Treasurer Chalmers declared that ASEAN was ripe for the plucking by Australian business turbocharged by a AUD$2 billion fund. “This is where the action is – in ASEAN – and we want to get a bigger slice of that action” he said. Addressing 100 chief executives from Australia and Continue reading »
Thai establishment to disband popular party – Asian Media Report
In Asian media this week: ‘Inexorable, predictable’ proceedings against Move Forward. Plus: South Korea’s new envoy at heart of political row; Xi revives Mao’s party-control dictum; Fukushima meltdown fuel still a mystery; China’s tai chi diplomatic culture; Singapore writer in long Taylor Swift gloat. In a slow-motion replay of the main contest in Thai politics Continue reading »
Building Socialism: The Afterlife of East German Architecture in Urban Vietnam – review
In Building Socialism: The Afterlife of East German Architecture in Urban Vietnam, Christina Schwenkel unpacks how the city of Vinh was reconstructed with the aid of East Germany in the aftermath of its bombing by the US between 1964 and 1973. Schwenkel skilfully combines historical analysis and ethnography to explore Vinh’s urban evolution, highlighting the challenges created through socialist planning and the enduring societal impact of Cold War urbanisation, writes Xue Xuan. This post was originally published on the LSE Southeast Asia Blog.
In her book Building Socialism: The Afterlife of East German Architecture in Urban Vietnam, Christina Schwenkel tells of the neglected story of the Vietnamese city Vinh’s socialist reconstruction during the Cold War. This city was badly decimated by US air strikes between 1964 and 1973. To rescue Vinh from its ruins, East Germany provided substantial material and technological assistance that was designed to transform it into Vietnam’s model socialist city. However, this transformation was not without its challenges, as Vinh’s rapid ascendance was followed by a quick fall into “unplanned obsolescence”.
Schwenkel skilfully weaves historical records with ethnographic research to dissect the architectural forms and planning practices of postwar Vinh, while also capturing its residents’ lived experiences within this changing urban landscape.
Schwenkel skilfully weaves historical records with ethnographic research to dissect the architectural forms and planning practices of postwar Vinh, while also capturing its residents’ lived experiences within this changing urban landscape. This historical ethnography of Vinh’s postwar reconstruction offers an in-depth exploration of state-led socialist modernisation, its vision, implementation and subsequent impact. During the Cold War, information about these urban experiments among socialist countries was largely inaccessible and unknown to the external world. To expose these facts contributes to a better understanding of socialist modernisation. It also resonates with the “multiplicity of experienced modernities”, thereby shifting the focus away from the dominant narrative of capitalist spatial production.
Schwenkel contends that socialist planning was both a “utopian science” and a “fantastical art of projection”, often venturing into realms of impracticality.
Interestingly, the book does not dedicate a specific section to explain what socialist urbanism is. Instead, its unique characteristics are gradually revealed across several chapters through detailed documentation of historical events and objects. Schwenkel contends that socialist planning was both a “utopian science” and a “fantastical art of projection”, often venturing into realms of impracticality. She examines two visual devices in the service of modernist planning: figurative drawing and abstract blueprints, delving deep into how these visual renderings of rationalised spaces sought to represent a universal socialist future. However, when materialised in buildings and infrastructures, the rational planning was far from fulfilling its promise: it neither increased labour productivity nor moulded enlightened proletarians. The author employs the case of Quang Trung Housing Estate to concretise how practical problems like poor material conditions and conflicting spatial practices inhibited the rapid construction of mass housing and how residents’ uncivil behaviours serves to contest quotidian forms of urban governance, epitomising the dialectical relationship between civilization and backwardness. The ethnographic approach of this study offers the author an opportunity to deliver a nuanced understanding of the lived experiences associated with socialist urbanisation. This perspective underlines the agency of citizens, challenging prevailing views that often portray citizens as passive participants. Schwenkel traces manifold ways that residents in Quang Trung made the decayed buildings adapt to their changing needs and urban lifestyles. Such acts, as demonstrated in the book, were not arbitrary but planned, which serves as individualised ways to pursue the unfinished utopia.
When recounting the destruction of Vinh during the war with the US, Schwenkel pays particular attention to the contrasting visual techniques employed by the US and Vietnam in reporting and recording urban warfare.
A particularly fascinating aspect of Schwenkel’s analysis is the focus on affect. She skilfully draws together socialist planning and its afterlife in mass housing through the thread of affect, generating many thought-provoking ideas. When recounting the destruction of Vinh during the war with the US, Schwenkel pays particular attention to the contrasting visual techniques employed by the US and Vietnam in reporting and recording urban warfare. In contrast with the aerial photographs by the US military, those photos taken by Vietnamese photographers employ close-up shots in recording the architectural remains of everyday urban life. The intimate portraits of the destroyed buildings powerfully convey the sense of trauma perceived by the people. This sense of trauma further strengthened international solidarity between East Germany and Vietnam, as detailed in the chapter “Solidarity”. It also set the stage for East Germany’s involvement in Vinh’s postwar reconstruction, which is thoroughly explored in the chapter “Spirited Internationalism”. This international solidarity, as demonstrated in the book, was both political and affective, appearing on the surface as a form of brotherhood between East Germany and Vietnam, but at its core, it was characterised by an asymmetrical relationship. The middle part of the book elaborates how this international solidarity gave birth to socialist planning and architectural forms in Vinh.
The author delves into the complexities of international solidarity as affective practice, highlighting the challenge of cultural differences, misaligned expectations, and the difficult balance between altruism and self-interest. The last part of the book features voices from the people of Vinh, who inhabited and used modernist architecture. Their affective attachments to the modernist architecture of the city are reflected in the various modifications they made to their residences, which subverts the narrow understanding of seeing modernist architecture as the product of rationality. To examine this state-sponsored, nationalist project through the thread of affect is very intriguing. It also piques my curiosity: how does affect relate specifically to socialist urbanisation as opposed to capitalist urbanisation? While the author briefly addresses this aspect in certain chapters, a detailed exploration is not provided.
The book not only sheds light on a lesser-known chapter of Cold War history but also propels readers to think about the lasting impact of architectural and urban planning decisions in shaping societal narratives and experiences.
The book’s strength lies in its methodological approach. Schwenkel’s transnational perspective, underpinned by extensive use of both German archives and Vietnamese sources, allows for a nuanced understanding of this complex historical interplay. By engaging with key informants in Vinh and delving into local archives, Schwenkel brings to the fore voices that have long been marginalised in historical discourse.
Building Socialism is a compelling read for scholars and enthusiasts of socialist urban planning and architecture, Asian urbanisation, and postcolonial studies. The book offers a comprehensive and nuanced understanding of the socialist modernisation in the postwar city of Vinh. It not only sheds light on a lesser-known chapter of Cold War history but also propels readers to think about the lasting impact of architectural and urban planning decisions in shaping societal narratives and experiences.
This book review is published by the LSE Southeast Asia blog and LSE Review of Books blog as part of a collaborative series focusing on timely and important social science books from and about Southeast Asia.
This post gives the views of the author, and not the position of the LSE Review of Books blog, or of the London School of Economics and Political Science.
Image Credit: khuanchai photo on Shutterstock.
Indifference killing democracy in Indonesia
A reason for Indonesians overwhelmingly supporting cashiered general Prabowo Subianto and a likely military dictatorship is because the electorate rarely reads; voters haven’t been taught to think critically so know little of their new president’s past. In 1998, Prabowo was stripped of his rank and discharged from the Army for disobeying orders. His squad arrested Continue reading »