Four Frameworks and a
Contested Space: Past and Present
American Diplomatic Strategies for China
Remarks
to the National War College
Ambassador
Chas W. Freeman, Jr. (USFS, Ret.), Washington,
DC May 7, 2013
It’s
a pleasure to speak to this colloquium on “the use of the diplomatic
instrument” of statecraft with China.
The subject is timely. China, its
international environment, and its relations with the United States are
undergoing a sea change, and American diplomacy seems a bit adrift. This happens from time to time. In fact, it has happened a lot more than most
people realize. Bear with me as I review
some of the history of U.S. diplomacy toward China before presenting some
thoughts about what course we should now chart.
Today
is May 7. On this day in 1945, Germany
surrendered, bringing to an end six years of war in Europe. Americans looked forward to victory in Asia. President Franklin Delano Roosevelt had died
just two fortnights before. He
bequeathed to his successors a vision of a new world order commanded by four
great powers – what he called “the Four Policemen” – America, China, the Soviet
Union, and the United Kingdom. Each of
the Four Policemen was to maintain order in its respective sphere: the United
States in the Western Hemisphere; China, with American help and advice, in East
Asia and the Western Pacific; the Soviet Union in Eastern Europe and the
central Eurasian landmass; and Britain in its empire and in Western Europe.
FDR’s
proposed “trusteeship of the powerful” soon dissolved. It was replaced by the bipolar contentions of
the Cold War. The Soviet Union emerged
as an implacable threat to American interests and values. China was its apparently faithful Asian
comrade.
Most
Americans, including FDR, had imagined that China was or would be united under
the staunchly Christian command of Generalissimo and Mme. Chiang Kai-shek and
that it was destined to be a great, pro-American democracy and ally in the
post-war era. The United States saw such
a China as the logical Policeman of Asia.
(This is why, incidentally, America helped China to take the surrender
of the Japanese garrisons in the Paracel and Spratly Islands and to place Chinese
troops there. Ironically, I think we can
be sure that, had China also asserted its claim to the Senkaku Archipelago at
that moment, the United States would have endorsed it.) But China was undergoing a gory metamorphosis
and had other things on its mind.
In
the first of many disillusionments for Americans, China turned into something
altogether different from what U.S. policy planners and the American public had
anticipated. Amidst much domestic
recrimination over how this had happened, FDR’s preferred policy framework for
U.S.-China relations came unglued. China
chose to lean to Moscow. As the Cold War
was born and the Korean War broke out, the United States ditched the notion of
Sino-American co-dominion in East Asia and adopted a China-specific version of
the U.S. grand strategy of containment against Soviet communism.
This
second, radically altered post-War framework for China policy embraced
political ostracism, financial quarantine, economic embargo, and military
blockade – backed by a long-term U.S. commitment to naval dominance of the
Western Pacific and a network of anti-communist alliances and bases in China’s
key neighbors, as well as proxy wars in Korea and Southeast Asia. Over the course of two decades, Washington
successfully obviated the international consequences of Chiang Kai-shek’s
defeat by denying Beijing a diplomatic presence in multilateral organizations
and in most foreign capitals, while championing Taipei as the seat of the sole
legal government of China. The United States
prohibited the use of dollars in trade with the China mainland, barred travel
between it and the United States, and banned Chinese imports and exports where
it could.
As
part of this policy, America undertook to protect Taiwan against attack and, to
this end, vigorously patrolled China’s periphery, including the Taiwan
Strait. It sought to destabilize China
through covert action. As some
predicted, U.S. policies of non-intercourse, military hostility, and intervention
yielded Chinese intransigence and belligerence rather than the reflection or
accommodation their authors had hoped for.
Still, China’s backwardness, poverty, and isolation meant that its
foreign policy was long on strident rhetoric and short on cash or consequences. Beijing’s efforts to deny the United States
(and, later, the Soviet Union) the support of post-colonial Asia and Africa as
well as Latin America were not much of a threat, though they alarmed John F.
Kennedy sufficiently to cause him to restructure foreign assistance, create the
Peace Corps, and up the military ante in Vietnam.
The
Cold War froze most great power relationships for over forty years. While it lasted, Americans and Russians could
be confident that we knew our enemies, our allies, and our friends, as well as
the world’s fence-sitters. In this context,
in place of the idealized image that had prevailed before and during World War
II, we Americans demonized the Chinese.
Advocacy of rapprochement with China became political heresy, punishable
by persecution. It is especially
ironic, therefore, that the only great power relationship that changed
fundamentally for Americans during those four otherwise frozen Cold War decades
was that between ourselves and the Chinese.
Given
the inhibitions of political correctness, it took a while for Washington to
realize that Beijing had split from Moscow.
Once this realization sank in, the United States developed an entirely
new policy framework for the conduct of Sino-American relations. To everyone’s surprise, China emerged as the
most dynamic variable in the global strategic geometry of the Cold War
era. From 1971 through 1989 (when the
Soviet empire began its collapse), the major objective of U.S. China policy
became the consolidation of China’s strategic realignment and its strengthening
against the USSR. Meanwhile, where
ostracism had failed to do so, engagement with China changed it and its
policies to American advantage.
This
new policy framework was the third volte-face
in Sino-American relations in a quarter-century. It energized a remarkable series of
diplomatic shocks, aftershocks, and transpositions, beginning with the dramatic
secret visit to Beijing of President Richard Nixon’s national security adviser,
Henry Kissinger, in July 1971 and the February 1972 visit to China by Nixon
himself. In the Shanghai Communiqué of
February 28, 1972, the two governments reassured their friends in Asia that
they disagreed fundamentally about how to deal with the region’s problems,
undertook to finesse their differences over Taiwan’s relationship with the rest
of China, set aside their ideological animosity in favor of peaceful
coexistence, and announced that they would coordinate policies to mutual
strategic advantage. That was quite a
diplomatic jolt for the world to absorb!
Though the relationship it produced was well short of the sort of
politico-military alignment and cooperation that Washington customarily
demanded from strategic partners, it was enough to stimulate Moscow to seek its
own reduction in tensions with America.
Meanwhile, amidst U.S.-Soviet détente, the United States and China
entered into an entente -- limited cooperation, for limited objectives, for a
presumably limited time.
To
consolidate its new relationship with the People’s Republic, the United States
attenuated ties with Chiang Kai-shek’s rump Chinese state on Taiwan. As 1979 began, Washington formally terminated
its defense treaty with Taipei and moved its embassy to Beijing (while
retaining most of its previous substantive relationships with Taiwan, including
the sale of carefully selected defensive weapons on a restrained basis). China halted its inflammatory rhetoric,
pledged to make best efforts to achieve reunification with Taiwan by peaceful
means, and began to do so..
Sino-American
“normalization” catalyzed a process in China of accelerating reform and opening
to the West that marketized the economy, boosted growth to unprecedented rates,
and connected the country ever more firmly to the American-dominated,
non-communist sphere of influence known as “the free world.” Deng Xiaoping knew what he was doing. Huge numbers of Chinese enrolled in
universities in the United States and other Western countries. Deng used this and other interactions with
the “free world” to erase the legacy of Mao Zedong’s disastrously erratic
leadership and development model. In
place of Mao’s idiosyncratic radicalism, he put in place a pragmatic process of
adapting foreign best practices to Chinese conditions.
The
Christmas 1979 Soviet invasion of Afghanistan directly challenged common
Chinese and American interests. It
catalyzed a substantial program of military trade and technology transfer
between the United States and China. As
had been the case in the 1940s, some mistook Chinese willingness to collaborate
with the United States against a common enemy as foreshadowing a willingness by
China to subordinate itself to American leadership in the manner of U.S. Cold
War allies. Americans were also, as
ever, predisposed to believe that China was liberalizing, democratizing, and
otherwise Americanizing itself. Not a
few seemed to imagine that inside every Chinese there was an American
struggling to come out.
China’s
suppression of the 1989 student uprising in Tiananmen Square was a fatal blow
to these delusions. In the same year,
the Soviet Union began to fall apart. So
did the U.S. policy framework that common Sino-American enmity toward the USSR
had facilitated.
The
Shanghai Communiqué’s ideological cease-fire gave way to strident American
denunciation of China’s human rights practices.
Most forms of political and military dialogue and engagement between
Washington and Beijing were suspended.
To China’s alarm, the United States set aside its agreements and made
massive new sales of top-of-the-line offensive weapons to Taiwan. Long subdued tensions in the Taiwan Strait
resumed. But bilateral trade between the
United States and the China mainland continued to grow apace with China’s
rapidly expanding economy.
For
eighteen years, the Shanghai Communiqué and the two joint communiqués that
supplemented it had provided a successful framework for U.S. China policy. In practice, after 1989, the United States
set aside this communiqué-based framework for managing relations with China,
while continuing to give it lip service.
From
1989 to 1994, in the fourth game change in forty-five years of Sino-American
relations, a muddle of new policies evolved to replace what had gone
before. The emerging policy framework
was unilateral, conceptually contradictory, and inconstant. It began with a severance of defense ties
with China and their strengthening with Taiwan.
This was followed by the political ostracism of China and an intense
focus on the reform of human rights there to the exclusion of almost all other
interactions.
When
this ideological push failed to move Beijing, the United States retreated to a
focus on completing China’s integration into the global economy. Admission to the World Trade Organization
(WTO) entailed painful adjustments in Chinese domestic economic practices. It gave China an irreversible stake in the
global economic order crafted by the United States during the Cold War. WTO membership boosted China’s external trade
and investment flows. It accelerated
globalization and raised worldwide prosperity.
But, to American disappointment, China continued to be Chinese rather
than Western in its political system as well as its human rights policies and
practices.
China
shared U.S. concern about north Korea’s nuclear weapons program but disagreed
about how best to persuade Pyongyang to abandon it. Nevertheless, Beijing convened multilateral
talks aimed at accomplishing this in a manner acceptable to the United States,
south Korea, Japan, and Russia. Such diplomatic
leadership by China was unprecedented, as was the American diplomatic
outsourcing it entailed. Both sides were
pleased by their collaboration, if not with its results. Meanwhile, however, Sino-American discord
over human rights and the renewed American emphasis on military balance rather
than political accommodation in the Taiwan Strait had the unintended effect of
empowering and emboldening independence advocates in Taiwan. (Eventually, the George W. Bush
administration felt compelled to declare the opposition of the United States to
their provocative separatist agenda.)
Chinese
uncertainties over U.S. Taiwan policy helped to brew up a naval confrontation
in the Taiwan area in 1996. The two
armed forces’ lack of mutual familiarity and effective communication repeatedly
proved self-reinforcing. Dialogue and
exchanges between the U.S. military and the People’s Liberation Army (PLA) got
nowhere due to mounting mutual suspicion
and hostility born of discord over U.S. arms sales to Taiwan and
incidents like the U.S. Air Force bombing of the Chinese embassy in Belgrade in
1999 and the fatal downing of a Chinese pilot when U.S. and Chinese aircraft
collided off Hainan Island in 2001.
Mutual incomprehension greatly complicated the handling of these
incidents and crises. (One shudders to
think what the absence of any kind of exchanges of views, still less
anticipatory planning, between the U.S. and the PLA might mean for readily
imaginable contingencies in Korea.)
By
the time the George W. Bush administration left office in 2008, China was fully
integrated into the global economy. It
had become a world power in economic terms.
Its rise and that of other non-OECD economies had forced an end to the
“free world’s” nominal direction of the global economy in the person of the
G-7. Although China lacked political
appeal and remained reluctant to take the lead in international affairs, it was
becoming a major presence in Africa, Australia, and Latin America as well as on
the Eurasian landmass. For the first
time in two centuries, China’s military was also visibly acquiring a credible
capacity to defend its maritime perimeter against foreign intrusion.
By
2008, most people had come to expect that China would soon displace America as
the world’s largest economy, a rank we have held since around 1880. China also began to narrow the gap between it
and the United States in a widening range of military capabilities. There was a growing sense in Washington that
Asia was underweighted in U.S. strategy, that China policy could not be left on
autopilot, and that a new framework for dealing with China and Asia was
required. We Americans have now pivoted
into a search for such a framework, our fifth in seventy years. The circumstances of this search are uniquely
trying.
As
the first decade of this century ended, the balance of prestige between China
and the United States underwent a remarkable shift. As China became an economic giant and a vital
actor in global trade, investment, and monetary affairs, the wizards of Wall
Street engineered a worldwide financial crash.
This pushed the United States and other industrial democracies into
recession and discredited U.S. financial leadership and economic
authority. Excessive debt and budgetary
bloat, aggravated by political constipation, cramped both America’s ability to
lead and its will to do so. The American
political system, long admired abroad for the civil liberties it afforded,
acquired a reputation for venality and implacable partisanship, combined with
sanctimony and fecklessness. The age of
inspirational leadership and bold new ideas from American presidents seemed
past. Meanwhile, the frustrating lack of
political success by the U.S. armed forces in Iraq, Afghanistan, and other
Muslim lands showed the world the limits of American military power and
demonstrated how it could be effectively countered through asymmetric warfare.
So
we Americans are seeking to frame a new policy for China in unfamiliar
circumstances. We live in a world in
which the economic center of gravity is coming to rest in Asia but political
power is devolving to the various regions of the globe. We Americans are
well-endowed by nature but ill-equipped by mentality to function in so dynamic
a diplomatic environment. The USSR is no
more, but our Cold War struggle to contain a single adversary remains the formative
experience of our statecraft. The
concepts and approaches we developed over that forty-three-year bygone era
continue to guide our foreign and defense policies. In the new circumstances, they don’t
compute. This is an environment that
rewards diplomatic agility rather than constancy.
The
United States now has no central antagonist.
There is no cardinal contest of ideas to engage us. There is no “free world” of allies,
auxiliaries, or automatic followers of the United States. Washington has no assured command of half,
still less all of world affairs. There
is no global governance that now derives its effectiveness mainly from U.S.
leadership.
In
these circumstances, what are Americans to make of China, or to do with
it? None of the policy frameworks we
have applied in the past seems either appropriate or feasible.
China
cannot be deputized to manage Asia to American advantage as FDR once imagined
it might. China and the United States do
not agree about enough to attempt to form a “G-2" to direct the world’s
affairs. If we did, other countries
would unite to block and frustrate our presumption.
Economically,
Asia is now Sino-centric and the world depends on its participation in a
globalized order. We cannot again
isolate China even if we wished to do so.
Moreover, Sino-American competition takes place in the context of
economic interdependence. If China went
into decline, we Americans would have a depression, not a peace dividend.
Unlike
the 1970s, China and the United States have no common foreign antagonist
against whom to unite. America has
chosen militant Islam as its main enemy.
For sound reasons of its own, China is not interested in joining our
crusade. Formidable as the threats of
global warming, environmental degradation, and their consequences are, they are
inextricably connected to vested interests with an apparently invincible hold
on the domestic politics of both countries.
In theory, common problems should invite a common effort to address
them. In practice, in what has been
called “the tragedy of the commons” or "the prisoners' dilemma" the
very parallelism of Chinese and American interests divides rather than unites
us.
The
most recent conceptual framework for U.S.-China relations has been overtaken by
trends and events. We have succeeded in
integrating China into the world order; that task is essentially behind
us. Despite some differences of
interpretation, China has accepted the existing state of affairs. In many respects, it is now a stronger
defender than the United States of the codes of conduct that underpin the status quo. But China will not allow America or the West
to dictate how the international order we crafted now evolves. The operative issue at the global level has
become how to reach agreement with China and other non-Western powers on
changes in the existing system. Such
changes are needed to preserve the peace, advance the prosperity, and assure
the security of our species in the times to come.
Even
if we Americans had not done as much as we have done to hobble and lame our own
inherent strengths, China would present an unprecedented challenge. Unlike the world and great regional powers
with which we have competed in the past, China has no web of alliances, foreign
protectorates, bases, or military presences abroad. It does not appear to aspire to any of these
attributes of empire. Like India, it
espouses non-alignment and has no committed strategic partners beyond its
borders. China shows no interest in
adopting our politico-economic model. It
is flattered by international attention to its success but offers no competing
ideology or prototype for emulation. It
seems to shrink from leadership. Though
not averse to engineering a bit of pressure to gain its ends, China has a
distaste for overtly coercive diplomacy, which it equates with power politics
and past foreign efforts to subdue it
It favors policy coordination through dialogue between sovereign states
rather than the hierarchical cooperation and deference characteristic of Cold
War alliances.
In
military terms, China is a leviathan that does not fit our inherited target
set. China’s armed forces are structured
and deployed to defend its sovereignty and territorial integrity as Beijing
defines these. Unlike those of previous
U.S. adversaries, they are not configured or equipped to project power much
beyond the national periphery. Chinese
military doctrine developed independently of the Euro-Atlantic tradition. China prefers defense through stratagem.,
asymmetric responses, and its own version of maneuver warfare to frontal
assaults or force-on-force.
The
rapid modernization of China’s armed forces endangers the traditional U.S.
dominance of China’s periphery but does not pose a threat to other regions or
to our homeland. Any armed conflict, if
there is one, will begin in China’s, not America’s near seas or
borderlands. From there it could become
not just trans-Pacific but global. This
is not a minor danger. The United States
and China are already engaged in mutual provocation by probing each other’s
defenses and mapping each other’s vulnerabilities. Aggressive American reconnaissance activities
along China’s coasts are paralleled by equally aggressive Chinese trolling
through U.S. cyberspace.
The
key China-related politico-military issue that U.S. policy must now address in
the Asia-Pacific region is no longer how to bolster Taipei’s military defiance
of China’s aspirations for national unification or how to defend Taiwan against
conquest by the PLA. Taipei knows that
the military balance in the Taiwan Strait has shifted against it. It has adjusted to this reality. The PLA is configured to severely punish, not
invade Taiwan.
As
cross-Strait integration has proceeded, the role military deterrence plays in
keeping the peace has steadily diminished while the political, monetary, and
opportunity costs of deterrence have continued to rise apace with PLA
modernization. The main interactions
across the Strait are now political and economic, not military. These interactions are aimed at peaceful
change through mutual accommodation.
They draw the two sides together, not toward a renewal of the civil war
that originally divided them.
U.S.
policy must now focus on helping the rising powers of Asia accommodate each
other through the adjustment of relationships in the Indo-Pacific region. Part of that task requires us to work out a
less hostile pattern of military interaction with China. This means recognizing the emergence of a
strong, engaged, and militarily formidable China on a basis that avoids
injuring the pride or core interests of its neighbors and that preserves the
credibility of the United States as the stabilizer of the Indo-Pacific and the
lubricator of relations between its states and peoples. This will not be easy, but it is not
impossible.
Achieving
strategic stability in Asia and in Sino-American relations will entail some
significant changes in U.S. policy and the assumptions on which it rests.
America
must now accept that China has built a plausible nuclear second-strike
capability that will enable it to inflict severe damage on any attacker. A nuclear first strike on China or a
preemptive conventional strike on its strategic arsenal is no longer possible
without Chinese retaliation. Explicit
acknowledgment of this reality and of the parity of deterrence that it creates
is a prerequisite for adding agreed elements of stability to the strategic
balance between the United States and China.
As long as China fears an American first strike, it will regard American
offers of dialogue about strategic escalation as a deceptive effort to gather
intelligence on its nuclear arsenal.
Despite
the strong desire of both sides to avoid escalation, conventional warfare
between the United States and China could easily lead to nuclear war. Operational planning by either side that pays
inadequate attention to this fact is more than irresponsible. It is delusional. Air-sea battle concepts envisaging deep
strikes inside Chinese territory are a case in point. China may not have the capacity to destroy
our country as many times over as we can destroy it, but it has the capacity to
shatter the United States as we have known it.
China’s
cyber capabilities are at least as relevant in this regard as its nuclear
arsenal. We can and, I believe, will be
able to work out rules of the road with the Chinese to deal with the protection
of intellectual property from cyber theft.
Mitigating the threat of cyber attack and counterattack must await the
evolution of a cyber warfare version of "mutually assured
destruction."
China
knows that the use of force against the homeland of a nuclear great power with
global reach would invite national disaster.
America also needs to reflect on this reality. It is very hard to imagine circumstances in
which our national command authority would approve an option to strike either
the Russian or Chinese homeland. It
follows that the United States and China need to develop politico-military
institutions and diplomatic processes that will avoid our having to consider
such a catastrophic course of action.
That means finding ways to increase the chances that our two countries
can resolve differences through measures short of war.
Despite
China’s lack of entangling alliances, both Chinese and Americans are very aware
that decisions and events in third countries have the potential to embroil us
in conflict. Our two countries have
nonetheless failed to build politico-military consultative mechanisms to
anticipate and manage such risks. This
is true even on the Korean Peninsula, where the danger of war remains
ever-present and the United States and China are respectively the de jure and de facto great power guarantors of the two Korean states.
The
United States has looked to China to moderate north Korean behavior. China has found this task terminally
exasperating. Its deference to Pyongyang
has accomplished nothing but its own embarrassment. Beijing has learned the hard way that
Pyongyang is obdurate, ungrateful, uncouth, and cursed with exceedingly bad
judgment. The six-party talks have run
their course. It is unlikely they can be
restarted. A new diplomatic mechanism
for dialogue with Pyongyang must be found.
In the meantime, we must deal with the danger of war that north Korea's
hysterical rhetoric has created.
Now
that north Korea has walked out of the Korean Armistice Agreement and the
commission it created, perhaps it is time for Washington and Beijing to revive
the commission as a bilateral forum in which to coordinate policies aimed at
achieving its still-unfulfilled purpose: “the
complete cessation of hostilities and all acts of armed forces in Korea until a
final peaceful settlement is achieved.” Such a forum could help to contain the
spillover effects of the sometimes violent events on the peninsula. After sixty years of awkward, tension-filled
diplomatic inertia, it could also enable Chinese and Americans to begin at last
to explore how we might work together to transform the truce in Korea into peace.
Korea's
future is ultimately for Koreans to decide but it is high time for the United
States and China to find a way to explore our respective views of the desirable strategic evolution of
Korea. Most Koreans hope that the
peninsula will again be unified. China
fears that this might lead to the establishment of a menacing American military
presence north of the 38th parallel.
If the United States has no such intention, it might usefully say
so. That could clear the way for interim
steps to break the Korean impasse.
Perhaps China could guarantee the peaceful independence of south as well
as north Korea while the United States did the same for north Korea in return
for its nuclear disarmament and agreement to peaceful interaction with the
south. Peace, stability, and the
prospects for nonviolent evolution on the peninsula might be buttressed by
supplemental commitments from the United Nations, Japan, and Russia.
It’s
also time to recognize that some sort of mutually agreed reassociation between
Taiwan and the China mainland would benefit both the region and the United
States. Despite recent positive trends
in cross-Strait relations, the question of Taiwan’s relationship with the rest
of China remains both a potential casus
belli and a significant irritant in Sino-American relations. Taiwan, China, and the United States would
all be better off with the danger of war behind us. Thanks in no small measure to past U.S.
policies, China has come to acknowledge Taiwan’s need for de facto political, economic, cultural, and military autonomy. A
cross-Strait deal that reaffirms the "principle of one China" while
guaranteeing Taiwan’s democracy, capitalist economy, and foreign connections
seems there to be had if politicians on the two Chinese sides have the will and
courage to go for it.
In
this context, it no longer serves the interests of the United States to deal
with the Taiwan issue mainly as a matter of military deterrence. That stance once helped prevent war. It now perpetuates the danger of war while
inhibiting peaceful change. The right of
Taipei to make its own choices deserves American support. Still, it is in the U.S. interest to foster
circumstances that encourage Taipei as well as Beijing to choose negotiation
over an impasse that can lead to war.
Americans should not intervene in such negotiations. The details of a peaceful settlement are
properly the concern of the parties to the dispute, not the United States.
The
world must adjust to a reinvigorated Asia, in which many previously poor and
vulnerable societies are gaining wealth and power. There is much more to Asia than China, but
China is at the center of Asia’s renaissance.
Chinese and other Asians need to reconcile the ways that this is changing
their interactions with each other and the world. If they are to coexist peacefully, China and
its neighbors must belatedly find new balances for their relations. This will require them to resolve territorial
disputes, to exorcize their anguish over past experiences with each other, and
to accommodate each other’s present interests rather than endlessly
relitigating old disputes. The
alternative is a divided Asia in which both prosperity and political vigor are
squandered in costly military and paramilitary contests over innately inconsequential
places. Such contests will reopen old
wounds and foster new resentments. They
are also grist for Sino-American military tensions and preparations for war.
The
United States has been an Asia-Pacific power for over 150 years. Since it defeated the Imperial Japanese Navy
in 1945, the U.S. Navy has dominated the Pacific up to its high tide mark. America takes justifiable pride in its role
in sustaining six decades of security and stability in the region. But, to play this role in the decades to
come, the United States must facilitate the accommodation of its allies,
partners, and friends to the new Asian realities.
America
has vital interests in the political and military stability of the Indo-Pacific
region as well as in its continued economic prosperity and progress. It is entirely natural for China’s
neighbors, to some of whom the U.S. government has made formal defense
commitments, to look to Washington for support as they adjust to China’s rising
power and other new realities in the region.
America has the capacity to help these countries make the transition to
a new Indo-Pacific equilibrium that includes China, India, Indonesia, and the
other members of ASEAN as well as the United States, Japan, Korea, and
Australia. The clearest articulation of
a strategy for accomplishing this is that of Kevin Rudd, the brilliant former
prime minister and foreign minister of Australia. I urge you to read and reflect upon his
writings on the subject.
It
is in the interest of the United States to work with Asians to accomplish a
transition to a new, sustainable order in the Indo-Pacific and to make it as
painless and non-disruptive as possible.
But the diplomatic expression of this interest is a more subtle task
than many seem to imagine. It requires
calibrating statements and actions to provide support for allies without unduly
provoking China and without stimulating the hardening of disputes. Support for weaker claimants needs to be
sufficient to balance China but not so great as to embolden them to pick fights
with it in the expectation of U.S. back-up.
U.S. diplomacy should promote processes that resolve claims, not just
manage tensions over them in ways that fail to eliminate the risk that they
will flare up in future.
Above
all, the United States must avoid transforming the quarrels of others over
isolated and strategically irrelevant humps of basalt and coral into quarrels
between ourselves and the Chinese. It is
not in the U.S. interest to inhibit or impede accommodation between China and
its neighbors. Quite the contrary. Neither our allies nor our partners want a
divided Asia or to have to choose sides between the United States and
China. They want to find a basis for
mutually respectful coexistence over the course of this century and beyond
it. They seek our help to do this.
The
stakes for Americans in managing our relations with Asia are too great to
permit us to propose arrangements that meet the requirements of gamesmanship
but not statesmanship. Nor can we afford
to bluff. In this regard, it must be
said, the so-called “pivot” or “rebalancing to Asia” as it has been presented
is problematic. The political element of
the “pivot” seems to be a version of Woody Allen’s dictum that “eighty percent
of success is showing up.” But “showing
up” is not a strategy, and it’s hardly certain the United States will continue
to do it for long, given the many distractions our country now faces. Meanwhile, the economic and military elements
of the “pivot” are suspect.
The
Trans-Pacific Partnership (TPP) is a proposed free trade area that deliberately
excludes China. But China is the meeting
place of the world’s supply chains and the largest trading partner of every
country in Asia. Before Americans elect
our next president, China’s economy may have overtaken ours as the world’s
largest. China sees TPP as a U.S. effort
to constrain its economic centrality and roll back its influence in Asia. Some Americans have been so injudicious as to
justify TPP in precisely those terms.
Some
claim that TPP would isolate China and organize opposition to its economic
practices, including its reliance on state enterprises, thereby forcing it to
become more like us. But China’s
economic model is currently both much more successful and highly regarded than
America’s both in the region and beyond it.
It is not realistic to imagine that America would prevail in a test of
economic models. If the U.S. objective
is to promote the best practices of the most advanced capitalist economies, the
most effective way to do this would be to start with an agreement among
like-minded countries like the Transatlantic Trade and Investment
Partnership. With that as a working
model, one could seek to sign on the more resistant Asians. Perhaps that’s how it will work out in
practice.
In
any event, TPP is almost certainly not viable on the terms the U.S. has
proposed for it. In terms of U.S.-China
relations, it’s a zero-sum game. To many
Asians we seek to include in it, it appears to ask for sacrifices on their part
that outweigh the advantages they would accrue.
More to the point, the main effect to date of our championing of TPP has
been to accelerate the negotiation of intra-Asian free trade zones that exclude
the United States. In the new
circumstances of the 21st century, policies aimed at dividing Asia
risk dividing America from Asia.
The
military elements of the “pivot” are even more questionable. Where are the force structure and fiscal
resources that we propose to release to Asia?
What is the prospect for expanded roles and missions in an era of increasingly
severe budgetary austerity? If there is
no rethinking of inherited strategy, we will theoretically be pivoting to
positions at China’s twelve-mile limit, within easy range of land-based
systems, where the PLA enjoys very short lines of communication and logistical
support and all the other advantages of defense over offense. Is this really necessary to help China’s
neighbors balance it? Can we hope
forever to outmatch China at its doorstep?
What will it cost to do so? Is
there no less provocative and expensive way to demonstrate our support for
stability and the peaceful resolution of disputes in the Indo-Pacific region?
Despite
the fact that the United States military must now learn how to do less with
less, worst-case analysis will impel China to prepare to counter the level of
American commitment our rhetoric implies, not what we can actually mount or
afford. The result is almost certain to
be an arms race with a country with an economy as large or larger than ours
that has its fiscal act together at a time when we do not. Is this a contest we should initiate or
sponsor?
In
our global strategy, the United States obviously needs to give more weight to
Asia, but we would also be wise to recalibrate the “pivot” to support more
realistic objectives with less expansive rhetoric. Our diplomacy needs to emphasize political
solutions to Asian disputes at least as much as military deterrence of China
and restraint on the part of our allies.
Our economic strategy should focus on leveraging Asian prosperity to
reinvigorate our own enervated economy and create American jobs. It should not seek to divide and confound the
world’s fastest growing region.
Above
all, our new strategic framework for dealing with China – the fifth in seven
decades – must take account of the successes registered by previous
strategies. Principal among these is the
fact that Asia beyond China is – like China itself – no longer a power vacuum
or zone of poverty and backwardness.
Asians now need the United States behind and alongside them, not out in
front of them, as they attempt to establish a lasting basis for peaceful
coexistence with each other.
Text also available at chasfreeman.net.
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