As the Deng era approaches its end, concern abroad, particularly in East Asia, focuses on how the People's Republic of China (PRC) will cope with territorial disputes with Japan, Vietnam, the Philippines, Malaysia, Brunei and India, and the continued quest for Taiwan. Meanwhile Chinese military modernization steadily increases the People's Liberation Army (PLA) air and sea power projection. The question arises: might a beleaguered post-Deng leadership seek to strengthen its legitimacy through exploitation of Chinese nationalism and if so, how would this manifest itself in foreign relations?

In September 1993, China and India signed an agreement “to maintain peace and tranquillity” along their disputed Himalayan border. This agreement between the two Asian giants – which required both sides to respect the Line of Actual Control (LAC), that is to maintain the status quo pending a peaceful, final boundary settlement and to reduce military forces along the border in accordance with the principle of “mutual and equal security” – has been described as a “landmark agreement” and “a significant step forward” in their uneasy relations since the 1950s. It was a logical culmination of a series of developments since the late 1980s, especially the visit of India's Premier to Beijing in 1988 and the reciprocal visit of China's Premier to New Delhi in 1991; the end of the Cold War and the bipolar system following the Soviet collapse; the consequent dramatic changes in the global strategic environment; and the overall improvement in bilateral relations between China and India.

However, the fact that Sino-Indian relations today seem to be better than at any time during the last four decades should not lead one to assume that all the hurdles in the relationship have been overcome. This article examines the factors underlying the current détente, and analyses Indian and Chinese perspectives on their bilateral relations as well as the wider post-Cold War Asian security environment. It concludes that a thaw in Sino-Indian relations notwithstanding, the two sides are poised for rivalry for regional dominance and influence in the multipolar world of the 21st century.

The Vietnam War was an international conflict. Not only were the Americans engaged in large-scale military operations in a land far away from their own, but the two major Communist powers, China and the Soviet Union, were also deeply involved. In the case of China, scholars have long assumed that Beijing played an important role in supporting Hanoi's efforts to fight the United States. Due to the lack of access to Chinese source materials, however, there have been difficulties in illustrating and defining the motives, decision-making processes, magnitude and consequences of China's involvement with the Vietnam War.

The people who have triumphed in their own revolution should help those still struggling for liberation. This is our internationalist duty. Mao Zedong

In the middle of October 1975, a dusty column of South African troops, equipped with armoured cars and helicopters, rumbled north into Angola, further internationalizing the already complex civil war there. The South African attack not only broadened the war, prompting an even greater Cuban intervention, it also posed a dilemma for China, which supported the same Angolan parties as did South Africa: should China follow its policy of tit-for-tat opposition to Soviet expansion world-wide, even if it meant allying with the racist government of South Africa? Or should it follow the opinions of its fellow Third World nations in Africa, even if it led to a Soviet bloc advance? The difficulty China's leaders faced in the autumn of 1975 was one which had hidden origins in the different ways in which China viewed conflicts around the world, a difficulty that had lain dormant for years but which erupted in 1975 into full view, and with disastrous consequences for Chinese foreign policy in Africa. It is, moreover, a discrepancy which continues to exist in China's views of the world today.

How does China view conflicts and revolutions in the Third World? How do the Chinese organize their relations with Third World revolutionary organizations and their post-independence governments? This article examines the tensions and shifts of Chinese policy towards two essentially simultaneous revolutionary struggles and their post-independence governments: Angola and Mozambique.

The last years have seen lively international sinological and domestic Chinese debates oDn the structure and development of the Chinese public sphere. The international discussion has been largely analytical in orientation, prompted by developments in late Qing social history research and the new availability in English and French of Habermas's seminal study. The Chinese discussion has been more strategic, suggesting or legitimizing paths for China's further development: PRC government-directed research in the context of the Seventh Five-Year Plan focused on those aspects in the development experiences of cities like Shanghai which might be of use for the city's further development, especially regarding its relationship with the developed world. Independent critics writing outside the PRC felt prompted to join the discussion about the Chinese public sphere by the growing conflict between a society in the process of rapid diversification and development on the one hand and a political leadership rigidly maintaining the ideal of the people's uniformity in thought and attitude on the other. These differences notwithstanding, the international and domestic branches of the discussion share, for different reasons, an endogenous perspective explaining modern developments from the internal dynamics of Chinese society rather than from the impact from or the response to the West.

The international sinological discussion has searched for elements of a self-assertive Chinese public sphere in traditional areas such as guilds, associations or landsmannschaften, in the new private social welfare institutions set up by reconstruction activists after the Taiping rebellion, in the late Qing qingyi discussions within the bureaucracy, or in more modern areas such as labour unions or chambers of commerce.

This article examines the potency and persistence of myth and language in the context of the dispute, now over 80 years old, about the officially-sanctioned wording of regulations in the municipal parks of foreign-administered Shanghai. Specifically, it examines the potent symbol of the sign placed in Shanghai's Huangpu Park that allegedly read: “Chinese and Dogs Not Admitted.” This symbol has secured a totemic position in the historiography of the Western presence in China before 1949 and is deeply embedded in contemporary Chinese and Western perceptions and representations of that era, and of the whole question of Western imperialism in China. It is the subject both of popular discourse and official fiat in China today. Drawing on a series of revisionist writings and new archival research this article shows that the true facts of the case are both beyond dispute and irrelevant, but that the legend survives undiminished.

For over 60 years before June 1928 most Chinese certainly were barred from the parks administered by the foreign-controlled Shanghai Municipal Council (SMC) of the International Settlement in Shanghai. As shown below, the enforcement of the ban varied over time but for the first three decades of the 20th century it was rigidly administered. Dogs, ball games, cycling and picking of the flowers were also forbidden, but the alleged juxtaposition of the bans on dogs and Chinese became notorious. The potency of “dog” as an insulting and dehumanizing epithet in China undoubtedly exacerbated the insult, and also made the story of the sign's outrageous wording seem all the more plausible.

The liberation of women has been one of the priorities of the Chinese Communist Party since its foundation, with its sources in the evolution of ideas and the struggles that developed in urban China after the May Fourth movement. The Party, however, has put this ideal into practice only when it did not contradict the imperatives of revolution. The same holds true for prostitution: in 1949 the Party was eager to eliminate the most obvious forms of the exploitation of women, but practical measures were only carried out over several years. Article 6 of the Common Programme stated that “the People's Republic of China abolishes the feudal system that maintains women in slavery.” Prostitution appears in the discourse of the Party as the worst form of exploitation, as exemplified in an editorial of Xin Zhongguo funii in December 1949: “Prostitution is a sequel to the savage and bestial system of former exploiters and power holders to ruin the spirit and the body of women and to tarnish their dignity.”

Spatial aspects of power have been relatively neglected in the field of political science in general, with the notable exception of federalism. Many have argued that the study of political power has generally confined itself to the national level and paid scant attention to the interactions between the central government on the one hand and regional and local authorities on the other. Several tendencies have worked against the flourishing of political research on central-local government relations in the last three decades. First, in methodological terms, the “behavioural revolution” that swept the discipline caused a sudden premature end to the institutional analysis so crucial to central-local government relations. Secondly, in thematic terms, political scientists have been overly preoccupied with central-level processes of decision-making while neglecting the politics of central-local relations. Thirdly, in conceptual terms, the rise of “state” as an encompassing concept was facilitated largely at the expense of complex intra-governmental dynamics.

After belated and uneasy beginnings, French studies of contemporary China have recently matured. Thirty years ago the field was almost non-existent in France. Most sinologists either carried on the once celebrated philological tradition or concentrated on philosophy, religion, classical literature and ancient history. Few were happy to see the sacred field encroached upon by modern historians, whose secular interests they deemed closer to those of reporters than of scholars. Furthermore the tiny bunch of “barbarians” comprised mostly historians, not political scientists, economists or sociologists, and so they were interested in the century that preceded the Communist takeover (1840 to 1949), not in contemporary China as such.

After war, years of hostility and a long period of gradually improving Party and state relations, the study of China has begun to re-emerge in the Socialist Republic of Vietnam. Vietnam has had a sinological tradition for hundreds of years, linked to China by history, language, trade, a common border and in a myriad of other ways. From the mid-1950s until the early 1970s, thousands of Vietnamese students and officials studied in the People's Republic of China. Today the People's Republic remains Vietnam's key strategic threat. But the PRC, Taiwan, Hong Kong and overseas Chinese communities are also among Vietnam's key trade partners and a growing source of investment for its economic reforms.

Given this close relationship – including the direct hostility in the late 1970s and early to mid–1980s, one of a series of conflicts going back hundreds of years – it is perhaps paradoxical that the study of China in Vietnam has remained relatively weak. During the war against the French which led to the founding of the Democratic Republic of Vietnam in 1945 and the victory at Dien Bien Phu, Vietnamese sinology was a field largely limited to one or two universities and institutes in Hanoi and some additional capacity in Hue and Saigon, with scholars trained in either the older Vietnamese or French tradition. The thousands of Vietnamese who studied in China in the 1950s and 1960s were trained largely for other fields, although Chinese studies did see some development during the 1949 to 1966 period.

In 1988, a year before the greatest urban mass protest in modern Chinese history, three major events took place in the cultural, ideological and theoretical realms. One was the broadcasting of the TV series River Elegy (Heshang) in June and the extensive discussions and disputes about it in July and August. The second was the controversy over the political theory of Neo-Authoritarianism, which started in the second half of 1988 and reached a peak in early 1989. The third event was the so-called Shekou Storm (Shekou fengbo) that began in February 1988 and lasted more than eight months. While River Elegy was the high tide of cultural reflection (wenhua fansi) which aimed at examining the cultural and historical roots of current socio-political problems, the Neo-Authoritarianism was a theoretical trend among some young social scientists and members of Communist Party General Secretary Zhao Ziyang's think-tanks who were struggling to address pressing issues arising from the reform. The significance of these two events has been realized by many people studying the evolution of Chinese society in the 1980s and the background of the 1989 movement. In contrast, the Shekou Storm, which made an equivalent sensation throughout the country, has received much less attention.