52 China The Economist June 4th 2022
afterwards that he would continue to push
for the deal. “Don’t be too anxious and
don’t be too nervous,” he told participants.
Later China published its proposals, in-
cluding scholarships, training and medical
assistance, but excluding those on security
that had put off some states.
China may yet manage to secure some
version of the deal. Many countries in the
region have close ties to America, Australia
and New Zealand—but feel neglected by
them. They see China as a critical source of
trade, aid and investment that can help
their economies recover from covid-19.
Even so, some in the region have deep con-
cerns about China’s efforts to link security
with economic engagement and about its
proposals to co-operate on cyber-security,
policing and data networks.
Most vociferous was the response from
David Panuelo, president of the Federated
States of Micronesia (fsm). In a leaked let-
ter to Pacific countries, he said the deal
could allow China to conduct mass surveil-
lance in the region and trigger “a new Cold
War era at best, and a World War at worst” if
China were to attack Taiwan. His opposi-
tion was perhaps expected: America han-
dles fsm’s defence by agreement.
Resistance to Mr Wang’s efforts else-
where may also be linked to diplomatic
manoeuvres by America and its allies. Aus-
tralia’s new prime minister, Anthony Alba-
nese, said on May 28th that he has a “com-
prehensive plan” for the Pacific, including
a boost in aid and re-engagement on cli-
mate change. Two days earlier his foreign
minister, Penny Wong, rushed to Fiji and
promised that Australian partnership
“won’t come with strings attached”. Ms
Wong visited Samoa on June 2nd, signing
an eight-year development partnership,
before heading to Tonga.
America, meanwhile, said Fiji would
join a new American-led pact, the Indo-Pa-
cific Economic Framework. And on May
31st President Joe Biden and Jacinda Ar-
dern, New Zealand’s prime minister, met
in Washington and pledged to help Pacific
islands with infrastructure and security.
Even so, the pushback against China is
motivated not just by the concerns of
America and its allies. Fiji’s prime minis-
ter, Frank Bainimarama, welcomed Mr
Wang but sought a stronger commitment
on climate action. “Geopolitical point-
scoring means less than little to anyone
whose community is slipping beneath the
rising seas,” said Mr Bainimarama. Sa-
moa’s prime minister, Fiame Naomi Ma-
ta’afa, seemed frustrated at the rush to sign
China’s deal, saying it should be discussed
by the Pacific Islands Forum, which in-
cludes Australia, New Zealand and four
countries with diplomatic ties to Taiwan.
According to Samoan media, her explana-
tion for not signing was simple: “We did
not have enough time to look at it.” E
nvironmentalists havelong fret-
ted about soaring global demand for
sand. It is used to make the concrete that
is being poured into the world’s expand-
ing cities, often at the expense of vital
ecosystems such as rivers and lakes from
which the material is extracted. No coun-
try is hungrier for it than China, where
the damage caused by rampant illegal
mining has been enormous. In March the
Communist Party’s mouthpiece, the
People’s Daily, called it “irreparable”.
The central authorities are trying to
impose better order. Since 2000 they
have declared various curbs on sand-
dredging in the Yangzi river, where ex-
tensive mining has threatened embank-
ments used to prevent potentially cata-
strophic floods. But restrictions have
driven diggers elsewhere: many to the
country’s largest freshwater lake, Poyang
(pictured). This expanse of water chang-
es in size seasonally to a maximum of
about 4,500 sq km, roughly three times
the area of Greater London. The fluctua-
tions help to regulate the Yangzi’s flow,
but sand-mining is hindering this func-
tion. In May officials released an envi-
ronmental study on a proposed remedy:
a 3km dam. It did not impress China’s
small band of green activists. They fear
the structure could make matters even
worse for Poyang’s beleaguered wildlife,
including rare cranes and porpoises.
Last year the central government
launched new campaigns against unau-
thorised mining, beginning in March
with a crackdown along the Yangzi. This
included seizing and scrapping hun-
dreds of dredging boats and sand barges
that had been operating illegally on the
river. In July they declared a year-longnationwide war on shaba, or “sand ty-
rants”, and kuangba, or “mine tyrants”,
who extract other minerals. The names
refer to the mafia-like control they exert
over mining in their areas. Thousands of
suspects have been arrested so far. Last
year more than 1,200 officials were pros-
ecuted for being the “protective umbrel-
las” of such criminals. In August the
authorities began another year-long
operation aimed at illegal dredging, this
time covering all rivers in China.
In April the un’s environmental
agency, unep, warned of a looming “sand
crisis”. It said ill-regulated extraction in
many countries was fuelling violence,
making coastlines more vulnerable to
rising sea levels, and exacerbating floods.
But to Chinese city-dwellers—the main
beneficiaries of the country’s sand-
fuelled building frenzy of recent de-
cades—these concerns may seem re-
mote. To some of them, at least, it is not
the mining of sand but getting their
hands on it that makes them anxious.
Officials also use the term shabato
describe a kind of criminal who can
make life hell for the buyer of an urban
flat. These are often sold as empty shells:
walls need plastering, flooring must be
laid. Much sand and cement is needed.
In collusion with the property-manage-
ment firms that look after apartment
blocks, a shabagang will demand that
such materials are bought only from
them. They are usually low-quality and
overpriced. Anyone who tries to get them
from another source will be beaten up.
China’s property market has been
hammered by pandemic-related lock-
downs and state efforts to rein in devel-
opers’ debt. But the shabacan wait.Sand demandDown with the tyrants
The dark side of China’s property boom