The Far East as an obstacle to Russo-Chinese relations
Territory and geography help to explain why the two neighbours can never seem to embrace each other
Russo-China ties have always been something of a MacGuffin in international affairs. Moscow and Beijing are neither bitter enemies nor close allies, so movement one way or the other in the status of the relationship tends to worry their neighbours as well as the United States, whose primacy could in theory be undermined by a combining of these great powers.
Even so, Russia hopes that 2021 will be a special year for bilateral relations as the parties celebrate the 20th anniversary of the signing of the Treaty on GoodNeighbourliness, Friendship and Cooperation. At the end of 2020, Russian President Vladimir Putin described his relationship with Chinese President Xi Jinping as businesslike and trusting, noting that Moscow and Beijing have similar interests in many areas.
Just a few years ago, Russia and China set an ambitious goal of increasing trade to $200 billion annually by 2024 – a reflection of how natural their business partnership could be, considering Moscow is still under sanctions from the West.
But a deeper dive shows that such a partnership is not as ideal or as easy as it seems. Their histories are rife with tension and conflict, and their respective domestic imperatives often clash with their foreign imperatives.
Territory and geography partly explain why. China and Russia share two borders: a shorter one of about 50 kilometers along the Altai Republic, and a longer one in the east that touches Zabaykalsky territory, the Amur region, the Jewish Autonomous Region, Khabarovsk territory and
Primorsky territory – which together constitute Russia’s Far East. It’s one of the most remote regions of Russia, far removed from the capital of Moscow but extremely
strategically important for its access to the Pacific Ocean and oil, as well as gas transport lines, which enable energy products to be transited to customers in Japan and China without having to be piped through foreign territory.
Even when territory didn’t change hands, bilateral ties have often been volatile over their 400-year history. As often as they were at each other’s throats, they were just as often guided by mutual benefit and pragmatic partnership. Now is the moment when cooperation is beneficial to China – Russia is not in a position for any military conflict and facing economic conflicts with the U.S., and China would prefer to have an ally against the U.S.
Moscow believes that the Far East would be the biggest beneficiary of a strategic partnership between Moscow and Beijing, but the growing Chinese presence there could aggravate tensions with the Russian government and stoke fears of Chinese expansion. For all the hype in the media about improved Russia-China ties, there are limits to their cooperation, now as always.
Agreed Borders
In October 2004, Putin and then-Chinese President Hu Jintao signed a final agreement on the establishment of the Russian-Chinese border, which was contested, sometimes violently, in the past. Moscow had to reassure nearby residents of the document’s practicality, but they still had their doubts.
In the mid-17th century, the Amur region was taken by the Russians and incorporated into Russia, then ceded under the Treaty of Nerchinsk in 1689 to China. After the treaties of Aigun (1858) and Beijing (1860), the Amur region, and then Primorsky, were returned to Russia.
The Chinese people don’t necessarily believe the topic is settled either. According to Chinese bloggers, when Russia annexed Crimea, it did so because it was preparing to give parts of Sakhalin, Vladivostok and Tuva to China.
Not so long ago, Chinese media criticized a statement the Russian Embassy posted on Chinese social media dedicated to the Far Eastern Federal District. Though it is hard to believe Chinese authorities feel the same way, it’s impossible to deny China’s presence in the Far East.
This presence worries Russian citizens, some of whom fear that it will change the demographic balance in the region (and thus the country). That could, they say, lead to more political and territorial demands on Russian governments. According to the results of a Levada Center poll published in 2020, more than half of Russians (52%) are in favour of limiting Chinese migration. Some 30% of those surveyed favour only a temporary stay for Chinese immigrants, and 22% are in favour of a complete ban.
Though these figures frequently reflect local attitudes in contested border areas, official statistics show that relations between the Far East and China were always closer than interstate relations, since Russia’s eastern territories more often had cooperation with the peripheral regions of northeast China. These regions heavily depend on China as their most important trade partner and as a major investor in the region.
According to the deputy director of the International Department of the Ministry for the Development of the Russian Far East and Arctic, China accounts for 63 percent of total foreign investment in the Far East. Most of this goes to agriculture and forestry, construction mining, services and seafood production. These figures exclude small business investments, informal commercial activity, Chinese businesses that may be listed as Russian, and farmland purchased licitly or illicitly by Chinese citizens, so they could be even higher. The broader point is that there is often a lot of confusion in areas, and Chinese finance is no different.
Likewise, it’s difficult to quantify just how many Chinese citizens are living there. According to official data, there are not so many, especially when compared with Central Asian migration in Moscow. But here again, official data doesn’t paint the full picture. Before the pandemic, in 2019, more than half of all quotas the Ministry of Labour issued in the Far East were issued to Chinese citizens. And though the absolute figures are relatively modest – a little shy of 30,000 people – not all Chinese workers are working there legally, and those with dual citizenship are excluded from the
numbers.
Blessing in Disguise?
Thus, was Russia’s dilemma in the Far East: to allow or encourage more Chinese investment and migration, or to increase funding for the Far East out of its own budget. Neither is without some risk – the first could rile the Russian public, while the latter could cost Russia a chance to cooperate with a power on the rise – so Moscow has simply hesitated to choose.
However, the weak Russian rouble and later the COVID-19 pandemic and its associated economic malaise sort of solved the problem. It has become more difficult for Russia to attract Chinese labour, the government has begun to steadily legitimise gray market businesses, and the competition for land resources has started to grow.
The pandemic necessitated migration restrictions for the sake of public health and thus prevented Chinese workers from arriving. Local industry managed to survive the shortage of cheaper Chinese labour, and the lower yield in crops did not fundamentally affect the Russian economy.
The border has been closed indefinitely, so entrepreneurs are already making plans for the next season, focusing only on Russian workers. Smaller Chinese enterprises are gradually leaving and will be replaced by Russian manufacturers.
Even so, the problems Russia has in developing its remote territories haven’t gone away, and though the pandemic enabled Russia to forestall its decisions on China, other problems became more pronounced. Investment issues have not been resolved, and funds for territorial development have not been found.
Russia and China will continue to cooperate in various ways and will loudly announce their successful cooperation to the world when they do, but the Far East will only make it harder.