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304 pages, Hardcover
First published May 20, 2014
...Liu talked about agriculture, remarking with raised eyebrows, “This is a country that can’t feed itself. You think about a place so rich in land, and it makes you wonder.” I asked what the obstacle was. “It’s cultural. Chinese people can really chi ku [eat bitter], and that’s not just spoken from the end of my lips. It’s a real difference. In Chinese we say that if you are hungry or cold you have to do something about it. Here they don’t have that problem. They get food easily and a few clothes suffice them. “Chinese people are in a hurry to work, to earn money, to get rich. If they are farmers, they make every day count. Here, it’s not the same. Africans like to dance. That’s their specialty. They may be poor, but they are very happy.” How many times had I heard these very words, or variants thereof? As we’ve seen, in Africa, China has rolled out a special vocabulary of friendly partnership, of marching together fraternally along the path of development, and, above all, of “win-win,” the anesthetizing catchphrase that is attached to nearly everything it does. In Liu’s remarks, echoed in a thousand other similar conversations I’d been a part of, though, one glimpsed a darker truth. China had not so much broken with the paternalism of the West that it so often decried, as replaced it with a new one of its own. Africans were not really brothers. Not at all. Behind the fraternal masks, Chinese officials thought of them as children, capable only of baby steps, to be brought along with sugary inducements and infantilizing speech.