China

Biden's first major foreign policy address drew the curtain on the disastrous Trump era, emphasizing the nation’s strength at home determines its success abroad—and vice versa.

Many prominent analysts believe that a crisis over Taiwan is brewing and that the chances of a war between China and Taiwan, which has the potential to involve the United States, over the next year is not insignificant. The continued deterioration of cross-Strait relations is a critical factor leading analysts to make this conclusion. While the trajectory of cross-Strait relations is worrying, the coming year is unlikely to produce a crisis over Taiwan because China will remain preoccupied with more pressing challenges, Taiwan will continue to refrain from starting an escalatory dynamic, and the new administration in the United States will bolster stability in the Taiwan Strait. Since Tsai Ing-wen’s inauguration as Taiwan’s president in 2016, cross-Strait relations have been at an impasse, marked by a lack of official exchanges, dialogue, and activity. Beijing blames Tsai, arguing her refusal to endorse the “92 consensus,” a one-China framework endorsed by her predecessor, precludes official dialogue. From China’s perspective, Tsai is salami slicing toward independence, and therefore it should not reward her by opening up communications. Chinese officials would point to Taiwan’s revision of textbooks that separate Taiwanese history from Chinese history, its introduction of a new passport that minimizes the “Republic of China” while emphasizing “Taiwan,” and the recent call to replace the island’s national symbol. Tsai, however, would probably counter that she went far enough in her first inaugural address when she sought to reassure Beijing that cross-Strait relations would be conducted “in accordance with the Republic of China Constitution, the Act Governing Relations Between the People of Taiwan Area and the Mainland Area, and other relevant legislation.” This was a creative nod to “one-China” that she likely believed Beijing would accept, but instead she was told she had handed in an “incomplete test paper.” Beijing’s actions, in particular its undermining of Hong Kong’s autonomy, have eroded support on Taiwan for closer cross-Strait ties. Xi Jinping still insists that Taiwan must unify with the mainland on the basis of “one country, two systems,” but Hong Kong’s fate reveals that formulation’s fatal flaws. As a result, Tsai felt bold enough to formally reject “one country, two systems,” and her reticence toward the mainland was rewarded with a landslide reelection victory. Taiwanese identity is now at an all-time high, fueled in large part by disaffection with China. In sum, leaders in both Beijing and Taipei are not happy with one another, believe they are reacting to moves made by the other side, and are not inclined to make a conciliatory gesture to jumpstart cross-Strait dialogue. While some might conclude that cross-Strait relations will continue to deteriorate and could spark a crisis, instead this period of tension will persist without boiling over. While China has escalated its coercion of Taiwan, primarily by increasing the frequency and scale of bomber flights over the median line and into Taiwan’s air defense identification zone, Taiwan has not responded in kind. Tsai has avoided creating an escalatory dynamic. She has also demonstrated an ability to improve Taiwan’s relationship with the United States while not pushing for changes that would provoke a harsh response from Beijing. Tsai is thus unlikely to trigger a crisis. Although Beijing is displeased with Tsai and has increased its coercion of Taiwan, it is preoccupied with multiple challenges and does not want to add a crisis over Taiwan to its inbox. It is looking to reset relations with the United States (albeit on its own terms), bring its economy back to its pre-COVID level, and maintain a positive atmosphere throughout the year, which marks the 100th anniversary of the Chinese Communist Party’s founding. A confrontation over Taiwan would complicate China’s ability to accomplish these tasks. The United States is the other principal actor, and while the Biden administration has indicated it will continue to strengthen U.S.-Taiwan relations, it will probably do so in a way that does not test Beijing’s red lines. The Trump administration, although it should be commended for bolstering U.S.-Taiwan relations, often prioritized symbolism over substance and unnecessarily publicized certain developments that in turn prompted a forceful Chinese response. The Biden administration can be expected to take a lower key approach that China will feel less compelled to publicly react to. In addition, the Biden administration has sent useful signals that it would respond to further Chinese coercion against Taiwan. While President Trump allegedly likened Taiwan to the tip of a sharpie, and his desk to China, undermining deterrence by communicating that Taiwan was not defendable, senior Biden administration officials have stated that the United States should be “crystal clear” about its commitments to Taiwan. While 2021 is unlikely to see cross-Strait tensions spill over into open confrontation, there are a few ways that cross-Strait relations can be put on a firmer footing to minimize the chance of conflict. First, while the Trump administration did not make it a priority to encourage cross-Strait dialogue, the Biden administration can publicly and privately urge both sides to resume official communications and press one side when it believes it is acting in bad faith. In a positive sign, the State Department urged Beijing to “engage in meaningful dialogue with Taiwan’s democratically elected representatives” in its first statement on cross-Strait relations under the Biden administration. Such messaging should continue, and it should be repeated privately at the highest levels. Second, the United States can reinforce deterrence by publicly and privately highlighting its commitment to Taiwan and allocating the resources necessary to back up that rhetoric. This would involve developing a credible denial strategy for Taiwan, shifting additional military assets to Asia and dispersing them throughout the region, procuring long-range munitions and stationing them in the region, coordinating with Japan on contingency planning, and working more closely with Taiwan’s military to improve Taiwan’s ability to defend itself. By making clear it has the will and the capacity to come to Taiwan’s defense, the United States would reduce the chances of a cross-Strait conflagration. Finally, Taiwan and China can seek to cooperate on practical matters even without agreement on the framework for cross-Strait relations. For instance, they can attempt to establish an exchange of medical information to ease travel during the pandemic. In addition, they can look to resume scholarly exchanges, virtually for the time being. Either of these steps would help build trust and place a floor on cross-Strait relations. While some are predicting that the deterioration of cross-Strait relations will trigger a conflict between China and Taiwan over the next year, Taiwan’s reluctance to escalate, China’s preoccupation with multiple challenges, and the change in administration in the United States make such a scenario unlikely. Over the next year, cross-Strait relations will remain fraught, but China and Taiwan will avoid a direct confrontation.

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Yun Sun is a senior fellow, codirector of the East Asia program, and director of the China program at the Stimson Center. 2020 witnessed tension across the Taiwan Strait unseen since the 1996 missile crisis. Feeling challenged by the popular Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) government and the Trump administration’s measures to enhance ties with Taiwan, the mainland China escalated its military posturing and coercive approach significantly. “Unification by force” became a buzzword among the Chinese public, and the public sentiment strengthens Beijing’s justification for intensified military actions. Although China may not seek a preemptive military campaign for unification, it is increasingly tolerant, or even neutral toward the military risk over Taiwan.    While people appear to believe that the Biden administration will strive to avoid acute crisis with China over Taiwan, U.S. policy toward Taiwan only reflects half of the story. The other, and more important half is from China. At least three factors contribute to China’s increasingly destabilizing stance: the belief that DPP is seeking “Taiwan independence”; the indispensability of unification for China’s rise and for Xi’s glory. In this sense, the trajectory of China’s coercion will only intensify rather than subside.   China prefers peaceful unification over use of force. However, in the Chinese lexicon, coercion is not unpeaceful. China’s confidence in unification lies the belief that there will be a day that the United States is exhausted by the security commitment to an island so far away as power balance continues to tilt in China’s favor, therefore, for Beijing, when and only when the United States withdraws, will Taiwan’s political will to negotiate peaceful unification with China begin to emerge. The calculation dictates that China must respond militarily to Taiwan’s “moves” toward independence before that day comes. The growing confidence in the shifting power balance also fosters growing Chinese tolerance, or even neutrality toward military risk.   China’s calculations pose serious danger for miscalculation and inadvertent escalation of tension with the United States. Neither side seems to believe the other side wants a conflict, and consequently could put themselves in a game of chicken and collision course given the stakes at hand. Regardless of who prevails, both will suffer tremendous human and financial costs, and Taiwan will be the first to bear the dire result of such a war. To avoid such a scenario will require the United States to balance its adamant support of Taiwan with a clear strategy for conflict prevention and to find the optimal combination of military deterrence and smart diplomatic strategies. View the full results of the Preventive Priorities Survey to see which other contingencies were deemed top tier priorities for 2021.

Charles Dunst is a visiting scholar at the East-West Center in Washington, an associate at LSE IDEAS, and a contributing editor of American Purpose. In January 2017 at Davos, the small alpine town that hosts the annual World Economic Forum, Chinese President and Communist Party General Secretary Xi Jinping made the case for Chinese global leadership, promising that while the soon-to-be Trump-led United States was promising to close its doors, China would keep them “wide open.” Corporate and political elites may have been somewhat skeptical, but many praised Xi’s speech, seeing it as a step in the right direction. This was only the most recent triumph for China, whose leadership successfully capitalized on the 2008 financial collapse—for which many faulted the United States—to win global goodwill for its authoritarian capitalist model. As the Forum’s founder Klaus Schwab put it while introducing Xi: “In a world marked by great uncertainty and volatility, the international community is looking to China.” Yet as Luke Patey of the Danish Institute for International Studies shows in his clear-eyed new book How China Loses: The Pushback Against Chinese Global Ambitions, much of the world has not liked what it has seen. China, he writes, “seeks to challenge the core values of the world’s liberal democracies: individual liberty, freedom of speech, and rule of law.” This challenge has frustrated countries from Germany to Malaysia and beyond. Indeed, China’s “predatory economic agenda, headstrong diplomacy, and military expansion,” as Patey writes, are undermining rather than advancing its standing in the world, so much so that Beijing, according to him, will fall short of attaining the mantle to global leadership it claims. Ultimately, though, Patey overstates his case: How China Loses does not so much show that China is losing everywhere in the world, but rather only that Beijing is not achieving its goals among developed democracies—a grouping whose collective importance is rapidly declining. Patey’s eye is well-trained both journalistically and analytically. For this book, he traveled to countries including South Sudan, Pakistan, and Germany, deftly presenting these and others as case studies that illustrate his thesis of China failing to reach its goals. In South Sudan, readers learn that Chinese officials do not yet understand how their investments in the country are inherently linked to Sudanese and South Sudanese politics, even when they have fostered war in those countries and actually undermined Beijing’s strategic objectives there. In Pakistan, we see how oft-mismanaged Chinese investment is pulling Beijing into bloody local conflicts, namely the Balochistan insurgency, that it so long tried to avoid. In Germany, we see how China’s nonreciprocal approach to its economy and investment—namely China’s refusal to truly open its markets to many foreign firms and Beijing’s boosting of state-owned enterprises that compete with German industry—antagonizes partner countries. But Patey’s case selection is curious. It is odd, for instance, that he did not travel to Southeast Asia, China’s historical backyard and the gateway for its global expansion. He writes extensively only about one country there, Malaysia. His characterization of this country is similarly peculiar. He portrays the former Prime Minister Mahathir Mohammad as a leader who “left his mark” by pushing back against and changing Malaysian opinions of China—even though some 60 percent of Malaysian elites still say that if forced to choose between the United States and China, they would go with the latter. Mahathir may have campaigned on an anti-China platform in 2018, but by 2019 he had almost entirely reversed course, saying that if forced to choose between Beijing and Washington, he would ally with the “rich” former rather than the “unpredictable” latter, and that there was no point confronting China, so Malaysia should simply defer to the Asian giant as it had done “for the past 2,000 years.” This is hardly the voice of a leader whose country China has lost. Moreover, Patey mentions Cambodia and Laos, perhaps the Southeast Asian countries most like Chinese client-states, only in passing, noting that there is “a tendency for China to avoid blowback to Belt and Road projects”—those funded by China’s massive global development project—“in authoritarian regimes and weak democracies, particularly smaller economies such as Laos and Cambodia.” Therein lies the most serious flaw in Patey’s argument: His examples of countries that China has lost—Denmark and Japan, for instance—are functional democracies responsive to public opinion and discontent. In contrast, countries like Cambodia and Zimbabwe that continue to support Chinese interests can do so precisely because they are not as responsive to public opinion, which is increasingly marked by anti-Chinese sentiment in these states. The qualities of China’s foreign policy may have repelled other states in the democratic world, but many autocrats are happy to fit themselves neatly within Beijing’s hierarchical worldview—which one former Japanese diplomat tells Patey is China’s “most fundamental problem”—if doing so keeps these autocrats rich and in power. Still, Patey argues that China could lose “not because it lacks global power, or that others should work in concert against all its ambitions, but because the actions and visions of its leaders elicit cautious reception and pushback across the world that undermines its potential as a global superpower.” But again, this “reception” matters only in countries where people can vote out leaders perceived as doing China’s bidding. Increasingly widespread anti-Chinese sentiment has not and will not soon force autocratic regimes to fundamentally reorient their approaches to Beijing. Throughout the book, though, Patey seems to assume that leaders act in their countries’ best interests—that well-intentioned presidents and prime ministers the world over will band together and uphold the liberal international order. He writes, for instance, that because “Chinese economic power can bend the will of new political leaders, but not wider society,” many countries will have no choice but to stand up to Beijing. But he does not interrogate how much society’s opinions matter in countries ruled by autocrats. He instead takes it as fact that even illiberal leaders will put their respective national interests first. This assumption is evident in his conclusion, in which he recommends that countries diversify trading and investment partners and privilege multilateral relations with China, rather than engage the Asian giant bilaterally. But leaders, particularly undemocratic leaders, often do not act in their nation’s interest. Developing countries, which include many authoritarian states, remain home to an overwhelming majority of the world’s population, and are in many ways the backbone of China’s “community of shared future”: its Sino-centric alternative to the liberal democratic order. With the world’s political and economic power shifting towards Asia as the continent’s wealth grows, China is arguably better served, at least strategically, by courting Cambodia and Laos than by pursuing deeper ties with Germany and Denmark. And if the United States remains unfocused on Asia and other developing regions, leaving China-countering efforts there to middle powers like Japan and Germany, Beijing will find its construction of an illiberal order all the easier. Nonetheless, Patey’s book is chock full of keen observations, meaningful interviews, and remarkable data, all of which smartly illustrate the flaws manifest in China’s authoritarian capitalist foreign policy. But the grandiosity of both his title and thesis betrays him. Indeed, upon putting down How China Loses, one is left wondering how, if China is so likely to lose, has Beijing made so many countries so pliant to its interests, and why is President Joe Biden’s diplomatic team so forcefully promising to beat back Chinese influence? Beijing’s belligerence certainly has lost it friends, as Patey suggests, but China’s failure to construct a global or at least regional Sino-centric order is far from foreordained. The upshot from this more pessimistic outlook is that proponents of the liberal democratic order must not rest but instead rise in a coordinated manner to meet today’s China challenge. For leaders the world over, taking into account Patey’s prescriptions would be a good start.