[Chinese companies have embarked
on ambitious overseas expansion efforts, snapping up land in dozens of
countries to build factories, industrial parks, power plants and other
operations. While the investments provide critical support for many economies,
Chinese businesses are struggling to navigate complex cultural, political and
competitive dynamics.]
“This
factory should not come here, because it will ruin the spirituality
of
the mountain,” Kailash Nemade, a monk, center, said about Foton's
arrival
in Shinde.CreditAtul Loke for The New York Times
|
SHINDE, India — When a Chinese truck company
wanted to open a factory in India,
its president looked at sites that had a mountain in back and a river in front
— especially auspicious locations in the traditional practice of feng shui.
The company, Beiqi Foton Motor,
found a seemingly ideal spot, securing 250 acres of farmland in this western
Indian village. Foton wants another 1,250 acres nearby to build an industrial
park for suppliers.
But the mountain here is sacred
to many Hindus. For at least 2,000 years, the cliffside caves have been home to
generations of monks. One of the most revered Hindu saints is said to have
attained a pure vision of his god during the 17th century while meditating in
the highest cave overlooking what is now Foton’s site.
The culture clash was
immediate.
Foton erected barbed-wire
fences and hired uniformed guards to keep out trespassers. Cattle herders and
Hindu pilgrims have repeatedly trampled the fences. The monks do not want a
noisy neighbor.
“In today’s life, spirituality
and science are both important, and neither should deny the other,” Kailash
Nemade, a monk, said during a pause from chanting religious poems. “But this
factory should not come here, because it will ruin the spirituality of the
mountain.”
Chinese companies have embarked
on ambitious overseas expansion efforts, snapping up land in dozens of
countries to build factories, industrial parks, power plants and other
operations. While the investments provide critical support for many economies,
Chinese businesses are struggling to navigate complex cultural, political and
competitive dynamics.
But Chinese enterprises lack
the experience of their Western counterparts, which have spent decades
developing international operations. As Chinese companies have built their
businesses largely at home, they haven’t had to address the same challenges.
In China , companies with strong
Communist Party connections can bulldoze communities and religious sites. The
Chinese government bans independent labor unions. While strikes and other labor
protests are becoming more common, they are quickly squelched by the government
if they show signs of spreading.
As Chinese companies now
venture overseas, they are dealing with a wave of resistance.
In Africa , workers at Chinese-run oil
fields and copper mines have gone on strike over low pay and dangerous working
conditions. The Myanmar government halted China ’s construction of a hydroelectric dam there after protests over
environmental damage and the displacement of villagers. And in Nicaragua , residents have resisted the
planned resettlement of villages to make way for a canal proposed by a Chinese
businessman.
In India , Foton’s experience provides a
look into the internal struggle that countries face.
Western companies have tried to
tread more carefully in India , in some cases learning from
past mistakes. They have worked closely with communities, explaining their
projects to residents. The companies have typically sent teams of executives,
often with overseas experience.
Foton strongly defends its
plans. The company says that its plant and supplier park will create a
much-needed economic boost.
“Because of these projects, the
employment of thousands of people, even tens of thousands, will be
accomplished,” said Zhao Jingguang, Foton’s executive vice president.
But Foton keeps revising
production plans and delaying construction. With the project stalled, the
promised jobs have not materialized.
Foton’s corporate style has
also caused friction. It managed the project mainly from Beijing , sending executives to India for two-week visits. When
Foton’s Indian managers needed to work with the main office, they sat through videoconferences
that lasted hours, with Chinese executives often speaking at length in Chinese.
Mr. Zhao denies that the
company picked the location for its feng shui, which the Chinese government
condemns as superstition. Still, he acknowledged that “there is a river, should
be good feng shui.”
But the land deal has been less
than harmonious.
Regulations mandate that
factories be located at least 500 meters from temples, preventing construction
on half of Foton’s site. A state agency also reserved land for a 15-yard-wide
dirt access road to help pilgrims reach a footpath to the caves.
Despite Foton’s efforts, many
villagers and monks say the factory would still be too close. Pilgrims, who can
number over 5,000 during religious festivals, would have only a half-acre site
to pitch their tents.
Sitting cross-legged in a
pink-painted cave, the monks’ leader, a Hindu holy man named Vishwanath
Maharaj, listened closely when asked for his view on Foton’s plans. But he
merely gave a slight smile and shrugged his shoulders, preserving his 35-year
vow of silence.
The Land Grab
When President Xi Jinping of China arrived in India a year ago for a visit, he was
welcomed at each stop by gleaming military honor guards, including a row of
turbaned cavalry lancers on horseback.
Mr. Xi and his host, Prime
Minister Narendra Modi of India , smiled as a succession of
deputies and executives exchanged more than a dozen commercial and cultural
agreements with one another. One of the agreements called for the creation of
the supplier park, where Foton would rent out space to Chinese parts
manufacturers.
“Your vision cannot be too
small,” Mr. Zhao said. “Nowadays, people say you must have an international
vision.”
Following the lead of the United States , Japan , Europe and other big economies,
Chinese companies are diversifying overseas to find new customers, markets and
opportunities.
A decade ago, China ’s overseas purchases of
companies, land, equipment and other physical assets totaled just $20 billion a
year. Last year, China ’s total was $120 billion. It
trails only the United States , and American overseas
investments have been heavily aimed at limiting taxes.
Pune and its environs have long
been a hub of foreign investment, tracing their industrial roots to a munitions
factory built in 1869 under British rule. Big assembly plants now churn out
Chevrolets, Mercedes, Mahindras and other cars. A Corning plant makes fiber-optic
cables. A General Electric factory creates wind
turbines.
For Foton , India offered cheaper labor than its
home country and a strong market for its products. India ’s position between Southeast Asia and Africa provided a natural hub to
supply other developing markets as well.
Even without the supplier park,
Foton has leased the biggest site in the area, 250 acres, for 95 years. Corning , G.E. and others nearby have
less than 100 acres apiece for their factories. A Bridgestone tire factory
occupies 185 acres.
In Shinde, speculators have bid
up the price of land, expecting that the state government will buy it and lease
it to Foton. But many villagers are opposed to selling, since the deal would
eliminate much of the farmland that is left.
Kaluram Kendale, who grows
onions and raises buffaloes, does not want to sell. He is upset that the state
government already forced him to sell five of the 12 acres that his family
farmed for generations.
“If I sell the land, it’s
one-time money,” he said. “But my land is beautiful, it’s fertile, and it’s a
permanent source of income for my family.”
A Village Divided
Chhaya Shinde, who grew up in a
mud-walled sharecropper’s cabin with dirt floors, was a star student, learning
to read and write Hindi and Marathi, the local tongue.
Her father, unlike most in her
impoverished hamlet, wanted his daughter to get an education. He paid $16 a
year for Ms. Shinde to attend a school in a nearby village. She dreamed of
becoming a social worker to help the elderly.
Ms. Shinde’s education ended
after Foton came to town.
While landowners got paid for
their fields, sharecroppers got nothing. Ms. Shinde’s father, a millet farmer,
lost much of his income. Ms. Shinde had to drop out of school a year ago.
“I had no money,” said a
tearful Ms. Shinde, 18. “I was at home, so I had to be married off.”
Since the arrival of Foton, the
gulf between the rich and the poor here has widened.
The Panmands, who owned the
land where Ms. Shinde’s family farmed, sold half of their 58 acres for the
Foton factory and two other factories. With the proceeds, they built a
10-bedroom villa with a large courtyard and a fish pond.
“For people who are rich, it’s beneficial
because they can buy a lot of things,” said Vijay Panmand, 28. “But for the
poor, it is not good. Where will they work?”
When Suresh Ghanwat sold land,
he invested a portion of the money in a three-story apartment building, renting
out the top and bottom floors. He also set up a concrete-block business,
producing a daily profit of $80.
But many families are like Ms.
Shinde’s, trying to survive in cramped, dark cabins.
Indian laws on land deals are
fairly generous by developing-country standards, calling for compensation for
tenant farmers and sharecroppers. But to qualify, they need to live on the land
or record the arrangement in official logs. Ms. Shinde’s family did neither.
Ms. Shinde, who wears a pair of
simple barrettes to hold back her dark hair and slim golden bangles that
encircle each wrist and ankle, now labors part time on one of the Panmand
family’s remaining fields.
“I wish they had never come
here,” she said of Foton, wielding a hand-held scythe to cut pearl millet.
“Those who were rich became richer, and the poor, poorer.”
Foton vs. the Civil Servant
When Foton acquired the land
here three years ago, young babul trees sprouted as soon as the farmers left.
Today, Foton’s site has roughly 12,000 full-grown babul trees, a widely loathed
plant with two-inch thorns.
Their height, up to 10 feet,
brings a tree preservation ordinance into play. When Foton eventually starts
building, it will have to get permission from the forestry ministry to cut the
trees down.
As the babul trees flourish,
Foton’s leadership has agonized over what to build, according to five former
executives. The original plan called for welding, assembling and painting
heavy-duty trucks.
The plan shifted to building
delivery trucks, and then to assembling sport utility
vehicles and cars. In
that time, Foton’s Indian operation has had four chairmen and at least three
executive vice presidents.
Mr. Zhao of Foton said the
company hoped to start building the factory by early next year. The first
vehicle most likely will not roll off the factory line until at least 2017.
The supplier park looks less
certain.
Both the Beijing government and the New Delhi establishment regard the deal
as important. But Foton did not enlist the support of local bureaucrats, and a
civil servant in Mumbai could ultimately derail the project.
The state land agency, the
Maharashtra Industrial Development Corporation, has to approve the deal. And
the agency’s chief executive, Bhushan Gagrani, has resisted, citing a dearth of
farmland and earlier disputes with families like the Ghanwats. He wants to
steer the supplier park farther inland, where unemployment is more acute and
farmland abundantly available.
But the alternative sites would
require supply trucks to haul parts for several hours. Foton, Mr. Gagrani said,
did not send anyone even to look at them.
The Indian prime minister,
accompanied by an entourage that included Mr. Gagrani, traveled to China in mid-May. Chinese officials
pressed the case for the Foton supplier park again.
But a deal may not be possible
now.
Foxconn, the Taiwanese contract
manufacturer, has decided to build a mobile phone factory nearby. Foxconn
negotiated its deal directly with the state government.
“Any land left,” Mr. Gagrani
said, “we are giving to Foxconn.”
Jonah Kessel contributed reporting from Beijing .