“Then came the Big Noses.” An unpleasant look crossed Chairman Han’s face. “They imposed opium on our people, sapping their will. They took our best ports for themselves, and turned China into a semi-colony. In their treaty ports they treated us like dogs. No, worse than dogs. I’m from Shanghai. As a child my grandfather told me about a park in Shanghai’s foreign concession which Chinese were forbidden to enter. A sign hung at its entrance. ‘No dogs or Chinese allowed,’ it read. Dogs were put ahead of Chinese! We were barred from our own soil!
“China’s fall from greatness is a matter of shame for all living Chinese. This loss of face cannot be wiped away by merely allowing China to take its place among the so-called ‘family of nations’. The rectification of China’s historic grievances requires not merely diplomatic equality — we enjoy this already — but strategic dominance. The world needs a hegemon. Fate decreed that the hegemon of the nineteenth century would be ‘Little Britain’. Fate decreed that the hegemon of the twentieth century would be the United States. And fate shall decree that the hegemon of the twenty-first century and beyond shall be China!
“We have built up our country out of the ruins of Western devastation. Economically, and yes, militarily. Thanks to the efforts of Premier Wang and Vice Premier Su, we have made it through the Asian economic crisis while maintaining near double digit growth. We have heard about our military advances, thanks to the excellent work of Vice Chairman Li and the PLA Chiefs-of-Staff.”
Fu noted the absence of Defense Minister Han’s name.
His voice began to swell in volume. “The Americans speak of Manifest Destiny. I am here to tell you that China has a manifest destiny of its own. It is destined to recover its traditional place in the world. We will be once again the Middle Kingdom, the kingdom at the center of the earth. We will once again be tianxia, the ruler of all under heaven!”
Chairman Han shouted the last sentence, and the group rewarded him with thunderous applause. Fu’s chest swelled with pride — both nationalistic and personal.
“The lowering of the Union Jack in Hong Kong is a start,” Chairman Han continued, his voice quieter now. “This has redeemed China’s painful humiliation at the hands of the British in the Opium Wars. The Japanese were crushed in World War Two. The collapse of the Soviet Union has brought the Central Asian republics closer to us once again. All of this is good.
“But there is one country that has not been punished by history. One country which struts about the world stage. One country which bombs our embassies. Which sends its warships up and down our coasts. Which keeps China divided from its island province. Which keeps troops in our tributary states. This country’s arrogance knows no bounds.
“I am sure that you all recall when I invited the American President to Beijing University for a joint press conference. But do you remember what he did? He lectured me about human rights. In my own country. In our national university. He lectured me, the Chairman of the Chinese Communist Party, the President of the People’s Republic of China!
“At that moment, all China was insulted.” Chairman Han’s face went red with the remembrance. “I smiled at him through clenched teeth. Inwardly, I was furious. How dare he insult me in front of my people, I thought.
“Everywhere we look, we are hemmed in by the Americans. They have usurped the role of world hegemon, and threaten world peace. They promote a cold war mentality, now directed at us. They are expanding NATO eastward to check our ambitions in Central Asia. They are the principal prop of the Japanese. They are expanding the U.S.-Japan alliance westward to check our rightful ambitions in the Pacific. They threaten and invade smaller countries, in order to bring them to heel. They use international economic organizations to control the flow of trade and investments in their favor.
“It is time for this to stop!” His voice rose once again to a crescendo. “It is time for the U.S. to get out of Asia! It is time for the Seventh Fleet to leave our territorial waters. It is time for the American occupying troops to leave South Korea and allow the reunification of China’s traditional ally under a pro-Beijing regime. It is time for Taiwan to rejoin the motherland!”
Once again the room exploded into applause. Fu found himself leaning forward in his seat in expectation, certain now that Chairman Han was going to announce that the invasion plan—his invasion plan — was going forward.
The Chairman looked at him, and seemed to smile. “This is the Year of the Dragon,” he said quietly. “The leadership of the CCP, after extended debate, has unanimously decided to undertake Operation Dragon Strike. As a first step in the recovery of Taiwan, we will take Quemoy in a combined air, naval, and amphibious assault. The fall of Quemoy will force Taiwan into a political accommodation. Once Taiwan starts down that path, of course, it will eventually become ours.”
The Chairman continued to speak, but Fu was no longer listening. He couldn’t believe what he had just heard. The attack would be limited to Quemoy! Taiwan itself would be spared! Quemoy! A miserable little island only five miles long and three miles wide. The Chairman continued to speak but Fu was no longer listening.
“Half measures will never work,” he blurted out. “You just buy time for the U.S. to bring its great strength to bear.” Fu was struggling — unsuccessfully — to keep the anger and disappointment out of his voice. “The shock of losing Quemoy will lead the U.S. to arm Taiwan with the most modern weapons. A ballistic missile defense system will be deployed. U.S. warships will again patrol the Taiwan Straits. Taiwan will be lost for a generation.”
His voice trailed off as he realized what he had done. He had just interrupted, no, contradicted, the Chairman of the Chinese Communist Party in open session. What had he been thinking? He stood up quickly and bowed.
“Please forgive my impertinence, Chairman Han,” he managed to mumble, then turned quickly and practically ran out of the room.
The secret conclave had ended that same afternoon. And with it my career, thought Fu Zemin morosely as he watched from the window of his bieshu as China’s senior leaders departed one by one in their chauffeur-driven Mercedes Benzes.
He had just begun to pack his travel bags when a knock came at the door. He recognized his visitor as a member of Chairman Han’s personal staff. “The Chairman would like to have dinner with you tonight,” his visitor said, smiling.
Fu felt his heart leap within his breast. He could barely contain his excitement for the two hours’ wait until dinner was to begin.
The Minister of the Interior, Ren Baisha, was alone with Chairman Han and Premier Wang. Ren looked grim, “If the Nationalist troops on Quemoy go on alert in the next few days, we will know that word of this meeting has reached them. It will confirm our conjecture that their spies have penetrated the upper echelons of the People’s Government.”
“Yes, but who?” Chairman Han said thoughtfully. “How much in the way of foreign investments does the Defense Minister have?”
“Our investigation turned up approximately 350 million. That’s U.S. Dollars, not our own currency,” the Interior Minister replied. “There may be more. The Swiss banks are particularly tight-lipped.”