When the Bureau of State Security arrested Rio Tinto's Shanghai executive Stern Hu, Prime Minister Kevin Rudd pointed out that this was a ''complex consular case'', and this was time to be ''working calmly and methodically ... on the basis of the advice as it unfolds''. In reality, the events represent the first, seismic, stirrings of the newly emergent economic Chinese dragon, a creature that will determine our future, in its own way. China's laws are not our laws; politics and business are intermingled in a way that we would find abhorrent.
Ever since the First Opium War in 1839, the West has dictated terms of trade to China. At that time the Qing Dynasty was attempting to stop what had become a flourishing trade in the drug. British East India Company merchants were becoming wealthy, producing the drug cheaply in northern India and using it to get around the Chinese insistence that all trade be conducted in silver. A small, but technologically advanced British force quickly shattered opposition, wreaking havoc and capturing the empire's tax revenue, forcing the Imperial Court to capitulate.
This established a pattern of interaction with the Orient that has continued for the best part of 200 years. When Malcolm Turnbull shrilly demands that the Government ''do more'' for Hu, he's deliberately pandering and reinforcing a populist (and simplistic) world view. Comb through the transcripts, however, and you'll find he's well aware of the complexity of this issue (something that has apparently eluded his foreign-affairs offsider, Julie Bishop).
As far as we're concerned, business and politics occupy different spheres. The Australian Secret Intelligence Service is too under-resourced to have time to spy on commercial negotiations to give a leg up to Rio Tinto, which is a multi-national company anyway. Espionage is different. That's why the suggestion that Hu was somehow involved in ''spying'' is a non sequitur: this was a business dealing, so therefore it can have no national security implications.
Turnbull's comments pander to these common beliefs. ''I have seen allegations about state secrets,'' he says, ''and any allegation of that kind has obviously got a political character to it,'' From there, it's a simple leap to the idea that this is some kind of a political stitch-up to get at Rudd. It's a politically sophisticated attack with the dog whistle at full blast. Maintaining a veneer that his primary concern is about the health and welfare of an Australian citizen, Turnbull is attempting to cast doubt on Rudd's broader credentials to lead us into this Asian century. Insinuating that Hu is suffering for China's personal dislike of Rudd is, perhaps, a legitimate short-term political tactic, but it's not a strategy, because it relies on Australians continuing to view the world through the naive lens of TV popular sitcoms. But as the canned laughter fades into the background, a far more problematic future is arising.
ANU Professor Don Rothwell finds these sorts of international legal issues so interesting he was busy working in his office last weekend, as he attempted to untangle the complexity of issues in the case. He argues the Chinese are ''following to the letter the relevant provisions of the consular agreement signed in 1999'', between, ironically enough, China and the government Turnbull was later a part of. The key issue is territory, in other words that everyone is subject to the law of the country they are in. Australia can't contest Hu's arrest, or whatever penalty is imposed by the court if he is found guilty. This is why the Opposition's demand that charges should quickly be brought against Hu has backfired spectacularly.
In Australia, people can't be held indefinitely without being charged (except, as Rothwell points out, if they're suspected of being terrorists, another law introduced by a government Turnbull was in).
In much of Asia this isn't the case, but this ill-defined period can actually work quite positively for the accused. Normally, by the time charges are laid the prosecution has decided it has an open-and-shut case. The courtroom can take on the attributes of a show trial. It's perhaps more reminiscent of the old days in our own military, where the commanding officer would tell the sergeant major to ''bring the guilty bastard in'', before happily dispensing summary justice without fear of being challenged. The details had been stitched up long before, but, on the other hand, a serious offence might be downgraded to ensure a guilty plea.
The situation in China is more complex, partly because that country has its own legal system, but particularly once the overlapping cultural and nationalistic intricacies are incorporated into the dynamic. Let's begin with the widely held belief, within China, that it was the actions of the party hierarchy that almost single-handedly prevented a global economic meltdown last year, but it feels it hasn't been accorded due recognition. Now, statistics are dribbling out showing a dramatic slowdown in the economy. Add to that internal tensions resulting in the outbreak of violence in Western China, and it's easy to understand the acute pressure on the leadership. None of this is any excuse for the arrest of Hu, or, equally significantly, his three co-workers. But because they're not Australian, no one's demanding their release, yet it's difficult to see why they should face incarceration. These arrests are demonstrating China's new determination not to accept the traditional Western way of doing business. The dragon is exerting its might. Even if Hu is released suddenly, his case has signalled that it isn't ''business as usual'' in Beijing. An example has been made. Other executives will watch their moves much more carefully and profits will become more difficult to acquire.
The middle kingdom is showing that once again it expects to dictate the terms of trade. It's difficult to see what political response should come from Australia except, perhaps, a recognition that the geopolitical fault lines of the world are changing.
Nicholas Stuart is a Canberra writer. nicstuart@hotmail.com