Srdja Trifkovic
America’s rivalry with China is inevitable, but war is not. The U.S. must know its rival—before it becomes its enemy. In The Art of War, Sun Tzu stresses the importance of exploiting a rival’s missteps; the Red Dragon’s strategy in geo-political affairs is straight out of Tzu’s book.
China’s power vis-à-vis Russia has been greatly enhanced since Putin started the “special operation” in Ukraine in 2022. Giving him an economic lifeline has enabled China to dictate terms of bilateral trade and—perhaps just as importantly in the long term—joint energy projects in Siberia. Beijing has also provided technological support without which Russia’s military industries could not operate. As a result, China has been able to penetrate Central Asia, a vast region that had been dominated by Moscow for centuries. For the first time in its history, Russia is effectively dependent on another great power.
The emergence of a comparable imbalance in Beijing’s relations with the United States due to the war with Iran is impossible, but President Xi Jinping and his advisors nevertheless believe that this conflict is reducing America’s ability to contain, let alone confront China. As they see it, every cruise missile and smart bomb—potentially earmarked for the arsenals in Yokohama and Darwin but expended in the Middle East—will have to be replaced by new ones, which will require rare earths and metals in which China is a global near-monopolist.
This may explain Xi’s carefully calibrated yet noncommittal stance at his summit meeting with President Donald Trump in Beijing in May, on China’s role in the U.S. conflict with Iran. After the summit, Trump optimistically said that Xi had promised to help broker peace, but it is clear that the latter is resisting any direct involvement. He will continue to balance relations with the U.S. and Iran in a manner consistent with China’s traditional avoidance of foreign entanglements that do not directly affect it. His interest in opening the Strait of Hormuz is natural enough, but it probably does not outweigh his tacit willingness to let the crisis continue, thereby swaying the balance of power to China’s advantage.
This is realism in action, of which Sun Tzu would approve; it is in line with his supreme principle that “the greatest victory is that which requires no battle.” His advice to exploit openings created by others goes hand in hand with his emphasis on the need to build one’s own strong defenses. In this respect, China’s approach demonstrates how geographic and historical factors permanently affect policy. The Middle Kingdom remains an essentially defensive power, guided by millennia of civilizational wisdom. That does not exclude the quest for regional ascendency, however, in China’s near-abroad. Its strategy is shaped by both geography and historical experience.
The first priority, however, is the preservation of internal order and stability. Like its imperial precursor, Communist China bases its political system on an authoritarian central government, a hierarchical power structure, and judiciously applied coercion or threat of it. The model is stable because the Han nation, to which nine-tenths of the People’s Republic inhabitants belong, overwhelmingly subscribes to the traditional notion that their rulers’ “heavenly mandate” is manifested in the country’s stability, safety, and prosperity. Those three pillars of legitimacy remain intact for now. In the Confucian paradigm, they merit obedience and loyalty in return.
The second priority is defense against external threats to national sovereignty and territorial integrity, which emphatically includes sovereignty over Taiwan. The imperative of Taiwan’s eventual reunification with the mainland includes rejecting its independence. For this reason, Xi emphasized the need for the U.S. to respect China’s red lines on Taiwan during the Beijing summit.
Xi explicitly framed Taiwan as the most critical issue in U.S.-China relations, warning that its mismanagement could lead to conflict. He reiterated his previously stated view that the Chinese and American economies are too integrated for a zero-sum, Cold War-style decoupling, but there should be no doubt that he would risk degrading the relationship to a minus-sum game for the sake of defending the red line on Taiwan.
After the summit, Trump expressed considerable optimism, describing the talks as “extremely positive” and stating that “a lot of good has come of it,” making a “fantastic future” for U.S.-China relations possible. His upbeat tone emphasized the prospects for trade, investment, and economic cooperation. For China, however, these are but secondary issues. It is clear that Beijing is making a broader relationship in all other areas contingent upon America’s acceptance of its core position on Taiwan. Since that acceptance remains less than explicit, and the U.S. position remains somewhat ambiguous, no spectacular breakthrough could be made on other fronts.
Trump does not support Taiwanese independence, in line with Washington’s long-standing “One China” policy. In response to Xi’s reiteration of China’s position, however, the president simply noted that he had “heard [Xi] out,” making no further comment. On the other hand, the next day, Trump cautioned Taiwan against declaring independence. “I’m not looking to have somebody go independent,” he said, adding that he did not want to fight a war “9,500 miles” away.
From the Chinese standpoint, this could be considered a welcome statement. On the same occasion, however, Trump added that he wanted “both sides,” China and Taiwan, to “cool down.” The Chinese will see in this the implication that Taiwan is a party of equal standing with China itself, which is, of course, anathema to Beijing. To make the matter more complex, U.S. lawmakers in both parties continue pressuring Trump to sell U.S. arms to Taiwan. They were concerned about Trump’s apparent uncertainty about a pending sale of $12 billion worth of arms to the island.
Undisputed primacy in the South China Sea is a related Chinese strategic objective. Both China’s expansion into the “Asian Mediterranean” and its concurrent construction of a powerful blue-water navy can be seen as primarily defensive moves, however. In terms of the geopolitical calculus, they seem motivated by Beijing’s perception of the need to secure China’s sea lanes—an existential issue for an export-oriented economy dependent on imported oil—rather than by a drive to project power worldwide.
China’s rise as a maritime power is possible because, at present, there are no constraints that have been historically imposed on its maritime ambitions by the threat to its 14,000-mile-long land borders. They are today more secure than ever in their 3,000 years of recorded history. Russia is a partner, and increasingly a junior one to boot. In Central Asia, China’s influence is spreading from Xinjiang westward to the Caspian Sea, thus establishing a far-forward western defense parameter. Its southern borders are protected by the impenetrable Himalayan range; its simmering territorial dispute with India is strategically insignificant. Of China’s three Southeast Asian neighbors, only its relations with Vietnam create occasional friction, but the Vietnamese pose no real threat.
Relative security on land, increased assertiveness at sea, a high degree of internal stability, and enormous economic power have enabled China to develop an ambitious grand strategy, first outlined by Xi at the Communist Party’s 2017 congress. He announced that the Chinese nation “has stood up, grown rich, and is becoming strong,” and promised to abide by the “dream of national rejuvenation,” which should turn China into a “world-class power” by the centennial of the founding of the People’s Republic in 2049. He reiterated this goal at the 20th Party Congress in 2022: to become a fully self-reliant global power by the middle of this century.
A future conflict with the United States or one of its Asian allies may disrupt the fulfillment of this “dream” if China starts pursuing it more assertively than it has over the past decade. So far, rather than seeking global hegemony, Beijing has aimed to blunt American influence and remove constraints on its own actions through economic power. A conflict could erupt primarily as a consequence of China’s determined attempt to break through the “First Island Chain” barrier, rather than as a result of competition for global control and dominance. In other words, China’s bid for regional primacy and its growing overall strength, coupled with its traditional belief in its own political and cultural superiority, may yet cause the Thucydides Trap to snap.
The “Trap” is usually taken to denote the high risk of war when a rising power—in this case, China—threatens to erode the position of an established status quo power (the United States, in this instance). Based on the Peloponnesian War, when Sparta was the defender of the status quo and Athens the challenger, the concept holds that the anxiety generated by shifting power dynamics makes conflict more likely.
Remarkably, Xi Jinping referenced this concept when meeting with Trump in Beijing. Xi was signaling to his guest that a possible role reversal was in the works. Xi positions China as a responsible power seeking a formula for peaceful management of major-power relations—essentially a status quo power—while placing the onus on Washington—the challenger—to manage its anxiety about China’s pursuit of legitimate national interests.
In other words, competition is inevitable, but war is not—but only if the U.S. accepts China’s rise, and thus avoids what Xi has often called “destructive tension.” It is clearly implied that any conflict would only result from America’s unnecessary attempt to restrain China, rather than from China’s own actions.
This was arguably the most interesting geostrategic aspect of the Beijing summit. It hints at what Beijing sees as the real danger of the U.S. trying to suppress China’s rise to regional preeminence. On the other hand, China’s overreaction to the American refusal to accept any major change in Taiwan’s status quo could also be destabilizing. If Beijing concludes that its path to peaceful reunification is being permanently blocked by Washington, it may foster a robust response with the potential for severe miscalculation.
It is therefore essential for China and the U.S. to manage competition by acknowledging their differences and seeking stability, free from unrealistic expectations, while remaining realistically aware of mutual costs and benefits. As long as they maintain effective channels of communication and approach the most sensitive issues regarding Taiwan with the understanding that cooperation benefits both, long-term stability can be achieved. To that end, Trump must discourage Taiwan’s leaders from contemplating formal independence.
When Vladimir Putin arrived in Beijing on May 19, just four days after Trump’s departure, the theatrics were absent: after all, this was the Russian president’s 25th visit to the Chinese capital. The atmosphere was both more workmanlike and relaxed, but in China nothing happens by chance. Hosting Putin just days after Trump’s visit significantly enhanced China’s diplomatic standing. The back-to-back summits showcased Beijing as a central, indispensable power capable of managing competing global agendas on its own terms.
Such swift succession of visits cast China—no doubt deliberately—as the prime geopolitical pivot of our time. Xi showed that both the United States and Russia need to court China, or at least to seriously negotiate and engage with it, in pursuit of their own strategic goals.
By hosting Putin almost indecently shortly after Trump, China solidified its image as a neutral, independent superpower. It enabled Xi to enhance the Middle Kingdom’s image of quiet strength and stability. Such qualities are in visible contrast with manifold tensions within what used to be known as the collective West, and with Russia’s palpable overall weakness. Putin’s visit, furthermore, showcased the growing imbalance of the relationship: Russia’s economic reliance on China is greater than ever.
America, by contrast, is not exactly dependent on China. At this delicate moment, however, it can ill afford to risk another sudden downturn in its relations with Beijing.
China’s perception of the United States has shifted greatly over the past 40 years. During the period of radical reforms under Deng, which began in 1978, the U.S. was seen as a role model with which an essentially cooperative relationship could and should be maintained. Over the past two decades, as a result of China’s enormous rise to power and America’s reaction, China has come to view the United States as its main external pressure.
China resents product embargoes and export controls, viewing them as attempts to deny it access to key technology sectors. They consider America’s regional alliances—primarily those with Japan, South Korea, and the Philippines—as part of a long-term bid to keep China confined within the first island chain. On balance, it sees the U.S. as the only power capable of negatively impacting its strategic security. No diplomatic sleight of hand and no summit meeting can change that.
On the other hand, U.S. policy makers and diplomats have cited China’s rapid military buildup (including its nuclear arsenal), its program to militarize artificial islands in the South China Sea, its intensive military activities around Taiwan, and its “debt-trap diplomacy” in the Third World, as both destabilizing and indicative of a long-term hegemonistic intent. No diplomatic conjuring and no single top-level meeting can change that either.
A year ago, relations between China and the United States were fraught with turbulence and mistrust, especially when the U.S. raised tariffs in April. In the aftermath of the Beijing summit, those relations are visibly improved, but not “historically” so. Donald Trump and Xi Jinping may have developed a good personal rapport in the course of those two days—occasionally there was even a hint of a smile on Xi’s customarily stony face—but structural problems remain, and therefore there could be no strategic breakthrough.
One key question remains unanswered: Can China’s objectives in its near-abroad be accommodated within a framework that does not threaten what the Trump administration, or its successors, define as vital American interests in the Pacific Basin? This is likely to be the critical strategic issue for both the United States and China over the next two to three decades.
To a foreign policy realist, it is clearly not in the American interest to risk an all-out war with China over who rules a distant island in the South China Sea. In the fullness of time, we should wish Taiwan well in its striving to preserve a high degree of autonomy when the time for reunification comes—as it surely will—but its form of governance is ultimately irrelevant to the security and well-being of the United States. In order to accept this reality, it is necessary to discard the notion that every spot on planet Earth is vitally important to American security.
In his 1796 Farewell Address, George Washington memorably warned his “friends and fellow-citizens” against the peril of foreign entanglements. In the same spirit, John Quincy Adams stated, 25 years later, that America “goes not abroad, in search of monsters to destroy.” Their words remind us of the need to focus our finite energy and resources on tasks within our capacity and of our legitimate concern. Those words are as valid today as they were at the time of their utterance.
Whether the first and the sixth presidents’ warnings will be heeded in the years and decades to come is an open question. The fate of America, and the world, may depend on the outcome.
Source: https://chroniclesmagazine.org/columns/hopeful-eagle-crouching-dragon/
