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Defense & Security
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European Union Strategic Autonomy. Necessary but potentially problematic?

by Krzysztof Śliwiński

Abstract This paper examines the evolving concept of European Union Strategic Autonomy (EU-SA) within the context of contemporary geopolitical challenges, with a particular focus on EU-Russia and EU-China relations. EU-SA reflects the EU's aspiration to act independently in foreign policy, security, defence, and economic affairs, moving from a rule-taker to a rule-maker in global politics. The study outlines the historical development of EU-SA from 2013 to the present, highlighting key milestones such as the Strategic Compass and the impact of the Ukraine War, which accelerated efforts toward defence collaboration, energy independence, and economic resilience. It explores the transatlantic dynamics, noting growing uncertainties in the U.S. commitment to NATO and the resulting push for a more autonomous European defence posture. Additionally, it addresses the complex EU-China relationship, marked by both cooperation and competition, as well as the strained EU-Russia ties amid ongoing conflict. The paper concludes by questioning the economic feasibility and political risks of deeper EU strategic autonomy, especially regarding security centralisation and Germany's leadership role. Key Words: EU, Strategic Autonomy, Security, Geopolitics, U.S, China, Russia Introduction At the 2025 North Atlantic Treaty Organisation (NATO) Summit in The Hague, member states (Allies) committed to investing 5% of their Gross Domestic Product (GDP) annually in core defence requirements and defence- and security-related spending by 2035. They will allocate at least 3.5% of GDP annually, based on the agreed-upon definition of NATO defence expenditure, by 2035 to resource core defence requirements and meet the NATO Capability Targets. Allies agreed to submit annual plans that show a credible, incremental path to achieving this goal.[1] At the same time, Spain secured a special compromise, committing to meet core requirements with just 2.1% of GDP, making it the only exception to the broader 5% target. Previously, in 2014, NATO Heads of State and Government had agreed to commit 2% of their national GDP to defence spending, to help ensure the Alliance's continued military readiness. This decision was taken in response to Russia's illegal annexation of Crimea, and amid broader instability in the Middle East. The 2014 Defence Investment Pledge was built on an earlier commitment to meeting this 2% of GDP guideline, agreed in 2006 by NATO Defence Ministers. In light of the increase in defence spending, given that 23 out of 32 NATO Allies are EU member states, the idea of European Union strategic autonomy (EU-SA) comes to mind. This paper will explore the issue of EU-SA with a specific reference to EU-Russia and EU-China relations.[2] A Brief History of EU Strategic Autonomy European Union strategic autonomy is an evolving concept that reflects its ambition to act independently in strategically important policy areas, including foreign policy, security, defence, and economic relations. Strong strategic autonomy, according to Barbara Lippert, Nicolai von Ondarza and Volker Perthes, means being able to set, modify and enforce international rules, as opposed to (unwillingly) obeying rules set by others. The opposite of strategic autonomy is being a rule-taker, subject to strategic decisions made by others, such as the United States, China, or Russia.[3] The concept was first prominently discussed in the context of defence in 2013 and has since expanded to encompass a broader range of policy areas. Historically speaking, one can identify numerous phases during which EU-SA evolved. - 2013-2016: During this period, EU-SA focused on security and defence, with initiatives like the Permanent Structured Cooperation (PESCO) and the European Defence Fund, aiming to strengthen the EU's defence capabilities.[4]  - 2017-2019: During this period, the EU-SA shifted its focus to defending European interests in a hostile geopolitical environment, influenced by events such as Brexit, the Trump presidency, and China's growing assertiveness.- 2020: The COVID-19 pandemic highlighted economic vulnerabilities, prompting a focus on mitigating dependence on foreign supply chains, particularly in critical sectors like health and technology.- Since 2021: The scope widened to virtually all EU policy areas, including digital, energy, and values, with terminology evolving to include "open strategic autonomy," "strategic sovereignty," "capacity to act," and "resilience".- 2022: The Ukraine War and Accelerated Implementation. Russia's invasion of Ukraine catalysed concrete actions toward EU-SA, notably in defence, energy independence, and economic resilience. The European Council's Versailles Declaration (March 2022) expressed strong political will to increase EU-SA, calling for collaborative investments in defence, phasing out dependency on Russian energy, and reducing reliance on critical raw materials, semiconductors, health, digital technologies, and food imports.[5] - The Strategic Compass for security and defence policy (endorsed March 2022) outlines a roadmap to 2030, emphasising strengthened EU defence capacities. Among others, it includes: o   Establishment of a strong EU Rapid Deployment Capacity of up to 5000 troops for different types of crises.o   Ready to deploy 200 fully equipped Common Security and Defence Policy (CSDP) mission experts within 30 days, including in complex environments.[6]o   Conducting regular live exercises on land and at sea.o   Enhanced military mobility.o   Reinforcement of the EU's civilian and military CSDP missions and operations by promoting a rapid and more flexible decision-making process, acting more robustly and ensuring greater financial solidarity.o   Making full use of the European Peace Facility to support partners.[7] According to the EU itself, the EU-SA is not a zero-sum game, but rather a sliding scale between complete autonomy and full dependency, with different results for different policy areas. What is more, when compared to the famous Maslow's hierarchy of needs (European Parliament briefing's language), the EU is not only perceived as an economic power, but it is also seen as a normative power. Therefore, the EU is recognised for its core values of democracy, human rights and the rule of law. Ultimately, Maslow's “self-actualisation” could mean the achievement of an EU in which citizens recognise their European identity and which has realised its full autonomous policy potential.[8]   As if this is not enough, the same source introduces the concept of the 360° strategic autonomy wheel, which reportedly illustrates policy areas in which the EU aims for greater strategic autonomy, as well as the connections between them. Mutual influence between policy areas can happen across the wheel, but is particularly strong in adjacent areas. Military action, for example, can cause migration, health is linked to food quality, energy policy influences the climate, and misinformation undermines democracy. The wheel can help to understand links, set priorities and view potential conflicts. More autonomy in the digital green economy will, for example, require vast quantities of “rare earth” materials, making the EU more (instead of less) dependent on imports. Reductions in energy consumption achieved through the digitalisation of the economy (for example, by reducing transport) will be partly offset by the increase in energy consumption by electronic devices and data centres.   Global Context The significance of EU-SA lies in ensuring the EU's political survival and global influence in a multipolar world where its relative power is diminishing. The EU's long-term economic outlook is bleak: its share of global GDP, now at 17% (at current prices), could nearly halve by 2050. According to the World Economic Forum, this economic backsliding not only threatens Europe's ability to fund its social model but also risks weighing on the bloc's global influence, leaving it even more dependent on the U.S. and China.[9] Moreover, the COVID-19 pandemic highlighted the conflictual nature of economic interdependence, as reliance on foreign supply chains for critical goods exposed vulnerabilities. Soft power has become an instrument of hard power, necessitating autonomy in trade, finance, and investment.  The U.S.'s strategic pivot to Asia, the exclusion of Europe in conflicts like Nagorno-Karabakh, Libya, and Syria (termed Astanisation[10], which favours Russia and Turkey), the sidelining of the EU in EU-Russia negotiations regarding the war in Ukraine, and China's state-led economic model have all pushed the EU towards the sidelines. Transatlantic divide Security is a critical dimension, with significant uncertainty surrounding the U.S. commitment to NATO under the Trump administration. Reports indicate Trump has questioned NATO's Article 5 guarantees, with actions like withdrawing military personnel from a Ukraine aid hub in Poland on April 8, 2025, and proposing to stand down 10,000 light infantry troops in Poland, Romania, and the Baltic states by 2025.[11] This has led to fears of a "NATO-minus" scenario, where the EU must fill security gaps without full U.S. backing. In response, the EU is pushing for greater strategic autonomy in defence. Initiatives like ReArm EU are mentioned, with calls for the EU to develop a stand-alone, integrated military capacity to stabilise the global economy. As Jean-Pierre Maulny, Deputy Director of the French Institute for International and Strategic Affairs (IRIS), adequately observes "The risk is now clear: a form of bilateral agreement between the United States and Russia, benefiting the interests of both countries, could leave Ukraine severely weakened and an easy prey for Moscow, thereby weakening other European countries consequently. As a consolation prize, we will have to ensure Europe's conventional security, as U.S. Secretary of Defence Pete Hegseth announced to Europeans at the opening of the NATO ministerial meeting held in Brussels on 12–13 February 2025. This situation will place Europeans in a terrible dilemma: Either they do not wish to provide security guarantees to Ukraine and risk completely discrediting themselves in the eyes of powers such as the United States, Russia, and China, as Europeans will have demonstrated that they are unable to defend the continent, while also creating a significant long-term risk to Europe's security. Alternatively, they could provide security guarantees to Ukraine, accepting the financial burden that would impact the European Union's long-term competitiveness. In light of this situation, some advocate for the establishment of a European pillar within NATO. If one considers that the United States is negotiating peace in Europe without and against the Europeans, and that they no longer wish to defend Europe with conventional military means (will they respect the NATO Defence Planning Process?), Europeans should take on Europe's security fully. This would mean taking control of NATO. It will also be easier to make NATO and the European Union work together with a more Europeanised organisation".[12] Economically, there are several issues that contemporary demand addresses, but the most pressing is, of course, the Tariffs. The U.S. and European Union are running out of time to strike a deal on trade tariffs. Negotiations have been slow since both the U.S. and EU temporarily cut duties on each other until July 9. If an agreement is not achieved by then, full reciprocal import tariffs of 50% on EU goods, and the bloc's wide-spanning countermeasures are set to come into effect.[13] According to Almut Möller, Director for European and Global Affairs and head of the Europe in the World programme (European Policy Centre), "for the first time in decades, Europeans can no longer rely on a benign partner on the other side of the Atlantic, leaving them dangerously exposed and acutely vulnerable, including on the very foundations of liberal democracy. Until recently, the U.S. dominated a world order that provided a favourable environment for the EU to extend its membership, further develop, and leverage its strengths, particularly as a trading power, without having to worry much about geopolitics. Suddenly, liberal Europe looks very lonely, and is struggling to keep up with a world of change".[14] Other problems arguably include digital regulation and data protection, antitrust policy and digital taxation, fiscal policy and social protection, geopolitical rivalries, China's rise, and competition and trade policy. EU–China conundrum Both the EU and the U.S. are concerned about China's growing economic and technological influence, but they have differing approaches to addressing this challenge. The EU has sought to maintain a balance between cooperation and competition with China, while the U.S. has adopted a more confrontational approach.[15] These differences have led to tensions in areas such as trade policy and technology regulation. For example, the EU has been critical of the U.S.'s unilateral approach to addressing China's trade practices, while the U.S. has accused the EU of being too lenient towards China. These disagreements have made it difficult to achieve a coordinated transatlantic response to China's rise.[16] According to German experts, the balance of power between China and the EU and its member states is developing increasingly asymmetrically to Europe's disadvantage. Only in trade policy – and partially in investment – can the EU maintain its position in a manner respected by China.[17] Europe holds significant importance for China across various dimensions: economically, as its top supplier and second-largest export destination; technologically, as a source of advanced technology; institutionally, as a model to emulate; politically, to advance its objectives concerning other nations, particularly the United States; and selectively, as a collaborator in areas like global health and regional stabilisation. Unlike Russia and the United States, China perceives a vital interest in the EU's continued existence and unity within a multipolar world; yet, it employs a "divide and rule" strategy. China selectively rewards or penalises individual EU countries based on their political and economic significance and their compliance with China's expectations on key issues. These issues include arms sales to Taiwan, meetings with the Tibetan Dalai Lama, and positions on the Uighurs, human rights in China, and the South China Sea. China engages with Europe on multiple levels — political, economic, technological, cultural, and academic — using various political channels (such as strategic partnerships with the EU and individual EU member states), dialogue formats (like the 16+1 format with sixteen Central and Eastern European countries), and high-level bilateral intergovernmental consultations with Germany, France, and the United Kingdom. China's hopes that the European Union would emerge as an independent and comprehensive player in global politics, serving as a counterbalance to the United States, have diminished. However, China would be supportive of any European efforts towards achieving strategic autonomy, provided it does not translate into a confrontational approach towards China itself. In contrast, Europe's political priorities—such as ensuring peace and stability in East Asia, China's role in global stability, development, environmental issues, climate change, and non-proliferation, as well as improving human rights in China — are often considered secondary and are not actively pursued by all EU member states. Europe lacks a unified and assertive foreign policy stance regarding the geopolitical rivalry between the United States and China for dominance in the Asia-Pacific region. There is also an absence of a clear position on China's authoritarian vision of order. Even in trade and investment disputes, Europe struggles to establish a unified approach to resolving these issues. The EU member states are too diverse in terms of size, profiles, and interests in their dealings with China: Economically, there is a divide between countries that are appealing industrial and technological partners for China and those that compete for favour in Beijing. Some nations have a clear interest in global governance. Additionally, the United Kingdom and France maintain their respective military presences in the Asia region. In this context, ReArm EU and its financial instrument SAFE (analysed here https://worldnewworld.com/page/content.php?no=5384 ) have the potential to provide the EU with meaningful strategic autonomy and invite genuine geopolitical actorness. EU–Russia conundrum Since Donald Trump took office as the U.S. president, the coordination of transatlantic policies regarding Russia has largely disintegrated. The White House's openness to a comprehensive "deal" with Russian President Vladimir Putin contrasts with Congress's attempts to limit Trump's foreign policy options with Russia, resulting in the marginalisation of coordination with European allies. This situation is further complicated by Washington's increasing reliance on extraterritorial sanctions, a trend that began before Trump's presidency. Consequently, according to European foreign and security experts, Europe must achieve greater strategic autonomy in its dealings with Russia. However, this relationship is particularly strained by significant conflicts of interest. Russia's invasion of Ukraine significantly disrupted the previously peaceful and liberal democratic relations among European nations. Putin's "special military operation" compelled the EU to introduce seventeen (so far) escalating economic sanction packages aimed at undermining the Russian economy and ultimately limiting Russia's capacity to continue the war. In a gesture of solidarity with Ukraine, the EU has also allocated billions of euros to both EU member states and Ukraine to avert a humanitarian disaster and ensure the provision of essential needs for Ukrainians fleeing the conflict.[18] After three and a half years from the outset of the war, Russia continues to pose a complex challenge that the EU and European nations cannot address independently in the foreseeable future. If the U.S. security guarantee weakens before Europe can bolster its own capabilities, the EU could face new vulnerabilities that Russia might exploit along its external borders, such as in the Baltic states, and elsewhere. Currently, the EU and its member states lack sufficient means to deter Russia from pursuing its interests aggressively and recklessly in the shared neighbourhood.[19] Critics, on the other hand, argue that calls for EU strategic autonomy, particularly the creation of a European Army and a significant increase in military spending, are a double-edged sword. First, the primary official rationale is that the EU must prepare itself for a possible attack on EU member states by Russia. The legacy media are full of European leaders claiming that Russia will sooner or later attack Europe.[20] Yet, this claim is not substantiated with much evidence. The proponents of the European army completely disregard numerous doubts surrounding the 2013/2014 "Euromaidan" and the role of the CIA in the events.[21] Second, according to the Office of the High Commissioner for Human Rights (OHCHR) 's estimations, the total number of conflict-related casualties in Ukraine from April 14, 2014, to December 31, 2021, stood at 51,000 – 54,000. These numbers are broken down as follows: 14,200 - 14,400 killed (at least 3,404 civilians, estimated 4,400 Ukrainian forces, and estimated 6,500 members of armed groups), and 37,000 - 39,000 injured (7,000 – 9,000 civilians, 13,800 – 14,200 Ukrainian forces and 15,800 - 16,200 members of armed groups).[22] In short, the situation was chaotic, with many casualties among civilians. Third, it was allegedly Europeans who torpedoed a first chance of peace negotiations as early as April 2014 in Istanbul.[23] Fourth, many European leaders seem to be utterly oblivious to the fact that the prolongation of the war adds to the destruction of Ukraine and Ukrainian society, deaths and emigration. Last but not least, given the fact that it is Germany that calls for both the European Army and the federalisation of Europe (with some assistance from France), one should be extra careful given the role of Germans during the WWII and the fact that neither has there been any official peace treaty with Germany nor have they recompensated countries such as Poland. Conclusion Strategic autonomy may be a necessity for Europe, given the dynamics of transatlantic relationships. The questions, however, that have to be pondered (and it does not seem that anyone in the legacy media or mainstream academia is ready to ask them) are numerous. Who will pay for that? Can Europeans afford such expenses under the current economic circumstances, and even worse economic prospects? Is the centralisation of security and military a Pandora's box? Should Europeans allow Germany (of all EU member states) to take special responsibility for this project? Isn't the pro-war rhetoric of Western political leaders making relations with Russia even more tense and dangerous, in other words, leading to escalation? History has solemnly proven that when left to their own devices, the Europeans inevitably create disastrous conflicts that have lasting consequences for generations. The American pivot to Asia and the consequent withdrawal from Europe may therefore have tragic ramifications for the European continent. References[1] Defence expenditures and NATO’s 5% commitment. (2025, June 27). North Atlantic Treaty Organization. https://www.nato.int/cps/en/natohq/topics_49198.htm[2] NATO and the EU have 23 members in common: Belgium, Bulgaria, Croatia, Czechia, Denmark, Estonia, Finland, France, Germany, Greece, Hungary, Italy, Latvia, Lithuania, Luxembourg, the Netherlands, Poland, Portugal, Romania, Slovakia, Slovenia, Spain and Sweden. See more at: https://www.consilium.europa.eu/en/policies/eu-nato-cooperation/#0[3] Lippert, B., von Ondarza, N., & Perthes, V. (2019, March). European Strategic Autonomy. Actors, Issues, Conflicts of Interests. Stiftung Wissenschaft Un Politic. Deutches Institut für Politik Und Sicherheit. https://www.swp-berlin.org/ doi:10.18449/2019RP04/#hd-d14204e263[4] Damen, M. (2022, July). EU strategic autonomy 2013-2023: From concept to capacity (EU Strategic Autonomy Monitor). European Parliamentary Research Service. https://www.eprs.ep.parl.union.eu[5] Informal meeting of the Heads of State or Government Versailles Declaration. (2022, March 10–11). Stiftung Wissenschaft Un Politic. Deutches Institut Fur Politik Und Sicherheit. https://www.consilium.europa.eu/media/54773/20220311-versailles-declaration-en.pdf[6] See more at: https://www.eeas.europa.eu/eeas/csdp-structure-instruments-and-agencies_en[7] See more at: https://fpi.ec.europa.eu/what-we-do/european-peace-facility_en[8] Damen, M. (2022, July). EU strategic autonomy 2013-2023: From concept to capacity (EU Strategic Autonomy Monitor). European Parliamentary Research Service. https://www.eprs.ep.parl.union.eu[9] Open but Secure:  Europe’s Path to Strategic Interdependence. INSIGHT REPORT. (2025). World Economic Forum. https://reports.weforum.org/docs/WEF_Open_but_Secure_Europe%E2%80%99s_Path_to_Strategic_Interdependence_2025.pdf[10] In reference to the Astana format on Syria) which leads to the exclusion of Europe from the settlement of regional conflicts in favour of Russia and Turkey. See more: https://www.eeas.europa.eu/eeas/why-european-strategic-autonomy-matters_en[11] Tilles, D. (2025, April 8). US to withdraw military from Ukraine aid hub in Poland. Notes from Poland. https://notesfrompoland.com/2025/04/08/us-to-withdraw-military-from-ukraine-aid-hub-in-poland/[12] Maulny, J.-P. (2025, February 13). United States – Europe: Our Paths Are Splitting. The French Institute for International and Strategic Affairs (IRIS). https://www.iris-france.org/en/united-states-europe-our-paths-are-splitting/[13] Kiderlin, S. (2025, June 18). These are the sticking points holding up a U.S.-EU trade deal. CNBC. https://www.cnbc.com/2025/06/18/these-are-the-sticking-points-holding-up-a-us-eu-trade-deal.html#:~:text=The%20EU%20and%20US%20flags,Poland%20on%20March%206%2C%202025.&text=Afp%20%7C%20Getty%20Images-,The%20U.S.%20and%20European%20Union%20are%20running%20out%20of%20time,($1.93%20trillion)%20in%202024?[14] Möller, A. (2025, February 26). Europe in the World in 2025: Navigating a perilous world with realism and ambition. European Policy Centre. https://www.epc.eu/publication/Europe-in-the-World-in-2025-Navigating-a-perilous-world-with-realism-625da4/#:~:text=2025%20will%20be%20a%20year,with%20a%20world%20of%20change[15] Bradford, A. (2023). When Rights, Markets, and Security Collide (pp. 221–254). Oxford University Press. https://doi.org/10.1093/oso/9780197649268.003.0007[16] Portanskiy, A. (2023). UE - US: new barriers to trade. Современная Европа. https://doi.org/10.31857/s020170832304006x[17] Lippert, B., von Ondarza, N., & Perthes, V. (2019, March). European Strategic Autonomy. Actors, Issues, Conflicts of Interests. Stiftung Wissenschaft Un Politic. Deutches Institut für Politik Und Sicherheit. https://www.swp-berlin.org/ doi:10.18449/2019RP04/#hd-d14204e263 [18] Klüver, L. (2025, April 18). Putin’s War on Ukraine: What can the EU actually do? European Careers Association. https://ecamaastricht.org/blueandyellow-knowyourunion/putins-war-on-ukraine-what-can-the-eu-actually-do#:~:text=Similarly%2C%20the%20Strategic%20Compass%2C%20the%20most%20recent,its%20interests%20and%20promote%20its%20values%20internationally.[19] Lippert, B., von Ondarza, N., & Perthes, V. (2019, March). European Strategic Autonomy. Actors, Issues, Conflicts of Interests. Stiftung Wissenschaft Un Politic. Deutches Institut für Politik Und Sicherheit. https://www.swp-berlin.org/ doi:10.18449/2019RP04/#hd-d14204e263 [20] ochecová, K. (2025, February 11). Russia could start a major war in Europe within 5 years, Danish intelligence warns. Politico. https://www.politico.eu/article/russia-war-threat-europe-within-5-years-danish-intelligence-ddis-warns/[21] Katchanovski, I. (2024). The Maidan Massacre in Ukraine The Mass Killing that Changed the World. Palgrave Macmillan. https://doi.org/https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-67121-0[22] Office of the United Nations High Commissioner for Human Rights. (2022, January 27). Conflict-related civilian casualties in Ukraine: December 2021 update. United Nations Human Rights Monitoring Mission in Ukraine. https://ohchr.org[23] Johnson, J. (2022, May 6). Boris Johnson Pressured Zelenskyy to Ditch Peace Talks With Russia: Ukrainian Paper. Common Dreams. https://www.commondreams.org/news/2022/05/06/boris-johnson-pressured-zelenskyy-ditch-peace-talks-russia-ukrainian-paper

Defense & Security
Virtual creative lock symbol and microcircuit illustration on flag of China and blurry cityscape background. Protection and firewall concept. Multiexposure

The triple dimension of Chinese cyberspace: defense, science and technology

by Elio Perera Pena

한국어로 읽기 Leer en español In Deutsch lesen Gap اقرأ بالعربية Lire en français Читать на русском Abstract Cyberspace has become a crucial area for the governance and sovereignty of states, especially in the case of China which has developed a comprehensive digital governance strategy. The Chinese government prioritized the construction of a technological infrastructure including Artificial Intelligence and Cloud Computing to strengthen its control over Cyberspace and ensure National Security. Introduction The term cyberspace was coined by writer William Gibson in his science fiction novel “Neuromancer” (1984), in which he described it as a consensual virtual reality. Since then, the concept has transcended fiction to become a tangible domain. Cyberspace can be defined as a digital environment created by the global interconnection of computer systems, networks, and devices, where information flows and human interactions take place virtually. It has undergone significant evolution since its inception. In the 1980s and 1990s, it was mainly limited to academic and military networks in the United States, such as ARPANET. With the arrival of the Internet, cyberspace expanded rapidly, incorporating millions of users and giving rise to new forms of communication such as email and online forums. The gradual proliferation of mobile devices and social networks has transformed cyberspace into an omnipresent and integral part of everyday life. In terms of communication and connectivity, it revolutionized the way people communicate by eliminating geographical and temporal barriers. Cryptocurrencies and Fintech [1] are examples of how cyberspace has transformed the economy, creating new opportunities. Regarding its interconnection with culture and entertainment, the digitalization of culture has given rise to new forms of creation and consumption such as music and video streaming, online gaming, and digital art. Cyberspace: A Strategic Domain Cyberspace has become a strategic battlefield for the hemisphere. In China, cyberspace is seen as an essential component of national security and economic development. The Chinese government has implemented strict policies to regulate cyberspace, including the Great Firewall of China, which controls the flow of information and protects digital infrastructure. In the 10th Five-Year Plan (2001–2005), promoting the information technology sector, increasing internet accessibility, and encouraging the use of digital technologies were established as national priorities. At the Chinese Communist Party Congress in 2002, information was recognized as essential for the growth of comprehensive national power; consequently, in 2005, the National Strategy 2006–2020 for Information Development was published. Regarding the treatment, study, and control of cyberspace, the People’s Liberation Army has always granted crucial importance to information and its technical infrastructure for collection, protection, and distribution, given its duty to safeguard national interests. This is demonstrated by an article written by then-Colonel Wang Baocun in the “PLA Daily” in April 1998: “The opportunity created by the new military revolution is once-in-a-lifetime. Our army enjoys many favorable conditions for informatization. Our country has achieved rapid informatization and has the potential energy to extend this work to the military. An important feature of the current Military Revolution is that local informatization begins earlier and develops faster than in the armed forces and is more technologically advanced. After generating sufficient potential energy, the work will extend to the military and trigger a massive military transformation.” (Expósito, 2022) While for most of the so-called West, and thus also for the United States, there are five domains — land, sea, air, space, and cyberspace — Chinese specialists conceive of cyberspace as the interaction of two distinct realms: the electromagnetic spectrum and informatization. In recent decades, China has emerged as a global power in the scientific and technological sphere, consolidating its position through a comprehensive strategy that links the development of science with the expansion of cyberspace. Since the implementation of the "Made in China 2025" Plan, the government has prioritized technological innovation as the engine of development, focusing on areas such as AI, big data, and cybersecurity, positioning China as a leader in the Fourth Industrial Revolution. Launched in 2015, this is an industrial strategy that aims to transform China into a high-tech manufacturing power. The goal is to reduce dependency on foreign technologies and promote local innovation in key sectors such as robotics, AI, electric vehicles, and biotechnology. The Internet of Things (IoT) is an essential component that complements it, enabling the creation of smart factories and more efficient supply chains. “Internet Plus”, also launched in 2015, promotes the integration of the internet with traditional sectors such as agriculture, logistics, and financial services. It seeks to drive the digitalization of the economy and promote the use of emerging technologies like IoT, big data, and cloud computing. The Internet of Things (IoT) is fundamental to Internet Plus, as it facilitates connectivity between devices and systems, enabling the creation of interconnected digital ecosystems. The proliferation of connected devices allows the IoT to support the development of advanced communication platforms such as WeChat and Alipay, which integrate multiple services into a single application. The relationship between these initiatives lies in the fact that IoT acts as a bridge between “Made in China 2025” and “Internet Plus”, enabling the convergence of advanced manufacturing and the digitalization of the economy. On one hand, “Made in China 2025” uses the Internet of Things to modernize industry and improve productivity. On the other hand, “Internet Plus” leverages IoT to create new data-driven services and business models. This synergy has allowed China to position itself as a global leader in technological innovation. The relationship between science and cyberspace has been strengthened thanks to massive investment in research and development (R&D). The country has allocated significant resources to training talent in STEM disciplines (science, technology, engineering, and mathematics) and has established centers of excellence in technological innovation, which have enabled the development of AI algorithms applied in sectors such as medicine, logistics, and defense. On the international stage, the People’s Republic of China has adopted a cooperative approach, actively participating in international cybersecurity organizations and promoting initiatives such as the Digital Silk Road, which aims to foster technological development in other nations. The future of the relationship between science and Chinese cyberspace is marked by emerging trends that promise to further transform society. The adoption of technologies such as 5G and Blockchain [2] is redefining how people interact with the digital world. At the same time, as the Asian nation faces the challenge of balancing technological growth with sustainability and social equity, it is developing cyber power strategy as one of the fundamental pillars of its government policy. This strategy is understood as the need to build a robust digital infrastructure that advances quantum technology, A), and their derivatives, aiming for the greatest possible development of all areas involved in the defense of cyberspace. China has positioned itself as a global leader in AI, with companies like Baidu, Alibaba, and Tencent at the forefront of research. In the field of big data, it has leveraged its vast population and the proliferation of connected devices to collect and analyze massive amounts of information, improving efficiency in sectors such as transportation and urban planning. Cyberspace is vulnerable to threats such as cyberattacks, digital espionage, and cyber warfare. In response to these risks, quantum computing offers tools to strengthen cybersecurity. In today’s digital era, quantum computing and cyberspace have become two foundational pillars for technological development and national security. China, as one of the global powers in technological innovation, has invested significantly in both areas, recognizing their potential to transform the economy, defense, and society. Quantum Computing: A New Technological Paradigm Quantum computing represents a revolutionary leap in information processing capabilities. Unlike classical computers, which use bits to represent data as 0 or 1, quantum computers employ qubits, which can exist in multiple states simultaneously thanks to the phenomenon of quantum superposition. This allows for solving complex problems in a very short time, unlike traditional computers, which would require much longer periods. China is increasing its role as a global leader in the research and development of quantum computing. In 2020, the country achieved a historic milestone by demonstrating quantum supremacy with its Jiuzhang computer, capable of performing calculations in minutes that would take the most advanced supercomputers thousands of years. Not only China has placed itself at the forefront of quantum technology, but it also has carried deep implications for cyberspace. Regarding its advancements in this area, China has achieved significant milestones, such as the development of long-distance communication networks — one example being the Beijing–Shanghai backbone network [3]. The link between these elements is manifested in several key areas: 1. Quantum Cryptography and Cybersecurity One of the most significant impacts of quantum computing on cyberspace is its ability to revolutionize cryptography. Quantum algorithms have the potential to break current encryption systems, which form the basis of online security. This poses a threat to critical infrastructure, financial transactions, and secure communications. In response to this challenge, China has invested in the development of quantum cryptography, particularly in Quantum Key Distribution (QKD). In 2016, China launched the world’s first quantum satellite, “Micius”, which demonstrated the feasibility of secure long-distance quantum communication. This advancement lays the foundation for a global communication network immune to traditional cyberattacks. 2. Artificial Intelligence and Data Analysis Quantum computing has the potential to accelerate the development of AI and the analysis of large volumes of data. In cyberspace, this translates to greater capacity to detect patterns, predict threats, and optimize networks. The People’s Republic of China, already a leader in AI, has the potential to use quantum computing to strengthen its dominance in cyberspace, both nationally and internationally. Quantum networks enable the transmission of information with unprecedented security levels, reinforcing China’s leadership by strengthening its position in cyberspace and promoting its technological standards internationally. Quantum computing also offers strategic advantages. It could be used to develop more sophisticated cyberweapons capable of disabling enemy systems. It also holds the potential to enhance cyber defense, protecting critical infrastructure from attacks. China has integrated quantum computing into its national defense strategy, recognizing its importance in maintaining superiority in cyberspace. 3. Challenges and Ethical Considerations The global technological race among powers such as the United States is one of the key variables in this challenge and could exacerbate geopolitical tensions. There are ethical concerns about the use of quantum computing in cyberspace. The power of this technology has already been used for malicious purposes such as espionage, cyberattacks, or information manipulation, especially by powers adverse to China. As quantum technology advances, there is growing integration between its components and cyberspace, driving innovation in fields such as secure communication, artificial intelligence, and national defense. China's success in these areas will have global implications, redefining the future of technology and security in this century, toward essential economic, political, and social development goals. China has recognized the importance of cyberspace as a modern battlefield and has developed regulations and strategies to protect its interests in this domain, establishing laws that require companies and organizations to implement strong security measures and report cybersecurity incidents. In this regard, the transformative potential of quantum computing for national defense and security is acknowledged. Quantum technology has been applied to conflict simulation and the analysis of complex scenarios in the military sphere. The rapid development of the IoT presents challenges. The interconnection of devices creates vulnerabilities that can be exploited through cyberattacks on power grids, transportation systems, and more, which could have devastating consequences. China recognized these risks and implemented measures to strengthen cybersecurity. In 2017, the government enacted the Cybersecurity Law, which establishes strict requirements for data protection and network security. On the communication front, authorities have made efforts to promote not only the country’s technological capabilities, but also elements of Chinese culture. Platforms such as TikTok (known domestically as Douyin) have gained global popularity, becoming vehicles to counter negative narratives in Western media. This approach has resonated in other countries, especially in the so-called Global South, with which China has established strategic technological partnerships. 4. Cyberspace and Chinese Cyber Sovereignty Cyber sovereignty refers to the notion that each nation has the right and responsibility to exercise control over its cyberspace, protecting its digital infrastructure, regulating the flow of information, and defending its national interests in the digital realm. For China, this concept is fundamental to its Internet governance approach and aligns with a vision of a regulated and secure Internet. In summary, cyber sovereignty is defined as a condition in which the state has authority over cyberspace within its borders, including the ability to regulate Internet access, control online content, and protect digital infrastructure. It is based on the premise that cyberspace is a strategic domain that must be managed to ensure national security, social stability, and economic development. Its key principles include: State control: The Chinese government exercises strict control over Internet infrastructure and online content.National security: The protection of cyberspace is considered an extension of national defense.Content regulation: Measures are implemented to filter information deemed harmful or contrary to state interests.Technological autonomy: China seeks to reduce dependence on foreign technologies and promote the development of local solutions. Legal and Political Framework The Cybersecurity Law (2017) establishes regulations for data protection, infrastructure security, and online content regulation. Regarding the practical applications of China’s cyber sovereignty, one key element is the ability to exercise surveillance, i.e., the use of advanced technologies to monitor and control the flow of information. Promotion of local platforms: Encouragement of Chinese alternatives to global services (e.g., WeChat instead of WhatsApp, Baidu instead of Google).Development of technological standards: Creation of domestic standards for technologies like 5G and the Internet of Things, aiming to reduce dependence on international norms. International Implications Alternative governance model: China promotes its cyber sovereignty approach as an alternative to the Western model of an open and free Internet.Global influence: Through initiatives like the Digital Silk Road, China offers other countries the opportunity to adopt its model of digital governance and technologies.International tensions: Disputes with other countries over the control of critical technologies and influence in global cyberspace.Balance between security and innovation: Strict control may limit creativity and entrepreneurship in the tech sector. Cyber sovereignty is a key link in China’s digital strategy, reflecting its state control and national security approach to cyberspace. This concept has enabled the Asian nation to develop a unique model of digital governance, characterized by regulation, promotion of local technologies, and projection of global influence. Internet Governance China has adopted a unique approach to Internet governance, based on the principle of national sovereignty. Unlike the open Internet model promoted by the United States, the Asian country advocates a model in which each nation has the right to regulate and control its own Internet infrastructure. This approach is reflected, among other aspects, in the adoption of policies that restrict access to foreign websites, to protect content aligned with national interests. China has also promoted international initiatives to establish digital governance norms that support its vision of cyber sovereignty. One example is the “Code of Conduct for International Information Security”, presented to the United Nations (UN), which advocates for the respect of national sovereignty in cyberspace and non-interference in the internal affairs of other countries. In response to perceived threats from the United States and other powers, China has strengthened its cyber defense capabilities. One of the most significant initiatives has been the creation of a unit within the People’s Liberation Army specializing in cyber operations. China has denounced the surveillance activities of the United States National Security Agency (NSA). The rivalry driven by the U.S. stems from China’s accelerated development in network technologies and the rise of companies like Huawei, global leaders in technology. The Asian country has sought to counter U.S. influence in cyberspace through strategic alliances with other nations while pursuing diplomatic and technological balance. It has collaborated with Russia on joint cybersecurity policies and has promoted its vision of Internet governance in international forums such as the Shanghai Cooperation Organization (SCO). The U.S. aggressiveness in the digital realm, aimed at countering China’s rise, could lead to a fragmentation of information technology, particularly in terms of data transmission, where different regions might adopt contradictory standards and regulations. This scenario, known as the “Balkanization of the Internet,” would bring negative consequences for innovation and international cooperation. For this reason, China strives — through its domestic policies and within international forums — to maintain a balance in the use of global cyberspace and in the effective approach to managing digital technologies. While some politicians and academics (Friedberg, Pillsbury) argue that China’s economic and military power will lead to an irrational use of cyberspace, others (Shambaugh, Steinfeld) maintain that China is increasingly integrated into international institutions and the global economy. They also emphasize the Chinese government's growing and sustained concern for international stability. Chinese authorities have had the opportunity to assert that, aside from the United States' aggressive stance, there are common interests between both nations regarding the defense of cyberspace and cybersecurity. For both countries, maintaining cybersecurity is vital for stability and social development. Their strategic approaches are based on serving their national interests, which is why both governments present their respective cyberspace strategies as models to emulate. Both, China and the United States, consider that strategic information must be handled with great care to ensure the proper functioning of public administration and national security. China supports the U.S. perspective on a cybersecurity governance model based on a multistakeholder approach, involving government, private, civil, and military actors in the implementation and execution of responsibilities. Certain reactionary sectors in the United States have worked to prevent possibilities for mutual understanding. In 2018, the U.S. Department of Justice launched the “China Initiative”, aimed at countering what was perceived as economic espionage and intellectual property theft, allegedly carried out primarily by U.S. citizens of Chinese descent. This initiative had several geopolitical consequences: Tension in U.S.–China relations: Considered a discriminatory measure, seen as an attempt solely to contain China's economic and technological rise.Impact on bilateral cooperation: It increased distrust, negatively affecting areas of collaboration such as trade, investment, and joint work in science and technology.Concerns about civil rights: It was criticized by human rights groups and academics for targeting Americans of Chinese descent, creating an atmosphere of fear and self-censorship among Chinese-origin researchers and scholars. In some cases, this led to the loss of international collaborations. In 2021, President Joe Biden’s administration announced the end of the initiative, acknowledging its inappropriateness and the criticism it had drawn. However, in 2023, new accusations emerged involving Chinese nationals, allegedly responsible for flying "spy balloons" over U.S. military installations. A defamatory campaign sought to fuel Sinophobia, and media outlets once again contributed to this narrative. While the Chinese Ministry of Foreign Affairs denied involvement, in the United States, the president convened the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff and mobilized several strategic components, including the U.S. Cyber Command (US CyberCom). Several U.S. intelligence analysts, including Christopher Johnson, admitted that the United States conducts espionage against China. The wave of Sinophobia was intended to justify to the public the U.S. efforts to obtain vital information about China’s strategic interests, especially those linked to digital transformation and cyberspace. In 2024, the U.S. government announced that by 2025 it would double tariffs on Chinese semiconductors, while continuing to accuse Beijing of forcing technology transfers and stealing intellectual property. Final Considerations Cyberspace and digital governance are part of a broader war rooted in the cultural dimension of contemporary hegemonic power, which is heightened by the existing links between media and culture and their influence on relationships of domination. A Cold War persists in the form of a battle for individuals' minds, underscoring its ideological nature (Expósito, 2022). With the advance in science, psychological warfare has evolved, largely due to the development of new information and communication technologies. Faced with strong U.S. interference, psychological warfare is closely linked to the justification for dominating cyberspace, interpreted also as political warfare — understood as crisis diplomacy, war of nerves, or dramatic intimidation diplomacy. Through these strategies, the United States seeks to counter China’s remarkable progress in commercial economic development, particularly in the technological sphere. To support these efforts, the U.S. intelligence directorate hires public relations consultants responsible for conducting complex psychological operations in the informational and media domain. One of their main tasks is to validate and frame information production for propaganda purposes, where military communication strategies and tactics are intertwined with and become part of media operations, in which media outlets function as oligopolistic enterprises. According to U.S. intelligence agencies, information is treated as a content-seeking tool used to persuade public opinion, regardless of its truthfulness (for example, the repeated accusations of alleged Chinese spies operating within the United States). Communication is viewed as a vehicle for promoting the communicator’s interests — in other words, an effective way to ensure that a message, with a purely propagandistic purpose, aligns with political interests, serving the agenda of the executive branch and transnational media corporations in the United States, while also considering the specific interests of the State Department and the Department of Defense. With a “prepackaged” message, cyberspace — a concept not yet fully understood by the average citizen — is presented as a stimulus for the development of various cyberspace-related programs in the U.S., such as Cicada, Tripwire, among others. As a result, the People’s Republic of China becomes the subject of a U.S. social experiment, through which this subject — often portrayed through manipulated or falsified narratives — facilitates the enrichment of the aforementioned large transnational media corporations, one of the methods employed by the United States to maintain its hegemony. U.S. authorities, working in tandem with the corporate sector, continue to advocate — so far without the expected success — for the transition of network informatization to the multi-domain sphere, extending from Earth to space and cyberspace. This transition requires a close interconnection of all elements involved, and corresponding training of technical and logistical personnel. The restrictions imposed by the United States on China’s semiconductor industry are clearly aimed at obstructing China’s technological development, as the Asian nation still depends, to some extent, on certain components manufactured in the U.S. or by its allies. Accordingly, the restrictions enforced through the 2022 CHIPS and Science Act limit China’s access to advanced chip manufacturing technologies, such as Extreme Ultraviolet Lithography (EUVL) equipment, essential for producing next-generation semiconductors. It is important to note that chips and Chinese cyberspace are closely interrelated, as chips are fundamental components of the technological infrastructure that sustains cyberspace. In short, they are the technological foundation that enables the operation, expansion, and security of Chinese cyberspace, and their development is strategic for China’s autonomy and competitiveness in the global digital arena. The link between the communication sphere and cyberspace in the People’s Republic of China reflects its development model and its governance vision, aimed at promoting social cohesion. Through the use of advanced technologies and the implementation of policies, China has managed to maintain a high level of control over its digital environment, thereby promoting its national interests. China’s security and defense strategy in relation to cyberspace reflects its aspiration to become a global digital power. By adopting an approach based on national sovereignty, China seeks to protect its interests and counter threats posed by the United States and other powers. In an increasingly interconnected world, it is essential that nations find ways to cooperate in the field of cybersecurity, by establishing standards and norms that promote stability and trust in cyberspace. As one of the leading digital powers, China maintains its commitment to playing a crucial role in balancing the international order. The relationship between quantum computing, cyberspace, and China’s military security and defense regulations is complex and multifaceted. Quantum computing has the potential to revolutionize how information is processed and how security is ensured. China has been a pioneer in integrating quantum computing into its security and defense strategies, which has important implications for global security. The “Internet Plus” initiative served as a key catalyst for China's digital transformation, positioning the country as a global leader in technological innovation. By highlighting the close interdependence between cyberspace and quantum computing, it becomes evident how emerging technologies are transforming the world. China has demonstrated a strong commitment to the development of quantum computing, recognizing its potential to strengthen its position in cyberspace and its global implications that will reshape the future of technology and security in the 21st century. For years now, cyberspace has become part of the obscure content used in propaganda spread by what is referred to as the mainstream press. It is used not only as a critical domain to be protected for the sake of national sovereignty and security, but also as a media spectacle, a staged platform in which the press is employed to convey messages desired by the political and economic executives of countries such as the United States. In such cases, in addition to the legitimate need to protect cyberspace as an intrinsic component of political and social stability, it is also used as a justification for massive financial allocations, supposedly in the name of national integrity, which in reality flow into the coffers of the Military-Industrial Complex. Notes [1] A company that uses technology to offer financial services in an innovative, efficient, and accessible way. The term comes from the combination of the words “finance” and “technology.”[2] Blockchain is a distributed ledger technology that allows information to be stored securely, transparently, and in a decentralized manner. It consists of a chain of blocks linked together, where each block contains a set of verified transactions or data. These blocks are connected through cryptographic techniques.[3] An important high-speed rail line in China that connects the cities of Beijing and Shanghai. Known as the High-Speed Railway, it is one of the busiest and most strategic routes. It was inaugurated on June 30, 2011 and covers an approximate distance of 1,318 km. References Expósito, J. (2022, enero 19). China en el ciberespacio. Revista Ejércitos. http://www.ejercitos.comFriedberg, A. L. (2011). A Contest for Supremacy: China, America and the Struggle for Mastery in Asia. Nueva York: W.W. Norton.Lewis, J. A. (2022). Chinas Cyber Strategy: A Comprehensive Analysis. Center for Strategic and International Studies. En www.centerforstrategicstudiesMinisterio de Defensa Nacional de la República Popular China (2023). Libro Blanco de Defensa Nacional. Beijing: Editorial del Pueblo.Patiño Orozco, G. A. (2021). Una comparativa de los esquemas de ciberseguridad de China y Estados Unidos. OASIS, 34, pp. 107-126. https://doi.org/10.18601/16577558.n34.07Perera Pena, E. “El llamado globo chino y algunas de sus derivaciones estratégicas”. En Revista Cuadernos de Nuestra América. CIPI. La Habana. Cuba. ISSN: 2959-9849.Pillsbury, M. (2015). The Hundred Year Marathon. Chinas Secret Strategy to Replace Americas as the Global Superpower. Nueva York: Henry Holt.Segal, A. (2020). The Hacked World Order: How Nations Fight, Trade, Manueuver, and Manipulate in the Digital Age. New York. Public Affairs.Shambaugh, D. (2013). China Goes Global. The Partial Power. Nueva York: Columbia University Press.Spanish.news.cn 16.3.2023. Libro Blanco. China explora activamente nuevos modelos de “ciberjusticia”. En: www.spanish.xinhunet.comSteinfeld, E. S. (2017). Teams of Rivals: China, the United States, and the Race to Develop Technologies for a Sustainable Future. In J. DeLisle, and A. Goldstein, Chinas Global Engagement: Cooperation, Competition, and Influence in the 21st Century (pp.91-121). Washington: Brookings Institution Press.Zhang, L. (2021). Chinas Quantum Supremacy. Beijing: Tsinghua University Press. Cuadernos de Nuestra América. No. 014 | Nueva Época 2025, Centro de Investigaciones de Política Internacional (CIPI). Under CC BY-NC 4.0 

Defense & Security
President Donald Trump announces the Golden Dome missile defense system P20250520JB-0081 (54536146884)

The Evolution of U.S. Defense Space Doctrine under the Donald Trump Administration

by Vadim Kozyulin

한국어로 읽기 Leer en español In Deutsch lesen Gap اقرأ بالعربية Lire en français Читать на русском From 2017 to 2021, the administration of Donald Trump radically changed U.S. space policy by focusing on military dominance, integrating the commercial sector, and abandoning previous restrictions on the militarization of space. New doctrinal documents were adopted, the United States Space Force was created, and the United States Space Command was reestablished. The emphasis shifted toward the development of offensive capabilities, cybersecurity, and public-private partnerships. During his second presidential term (2025–2029), Donald Trump initiated large-scale defense projects — in particular, the “Golden Dome of America” — and expanded the involvement of private companies in their development. This policy increases international tensions, provokes an arms race in space, and draws criticism for undermining international agreements and fragmenting the legal framework. Architecture of the New Space Order: Doctrinal Principles of the 2017–2021 Administration The national security space policy of the United States is formed both through presidential directives and on the basis of legislative acts. Presidential directives remain in force until they are revised by the next president. Thus, today the U.S. operates under a set of directives issued by Presidents George W. Bush (2001–2009), Barack Obama (2009–2017), Donald Trump (2017–2021), and Joe Biden (2021–2025). During his first presidential term, Donald Trump signed an updated National Space Policy, seven Space Policy Directives (SPDs), five space-related executive orders, two strategies, two reports, and one National Security Presidential Memorandum (NSPM). His “space policy” was aimed at “reviving the proud legacy of American leadership in space,” including in the field of national security, accelerating the exploration of the Moon and Mars, and developing the commercial sector. It was based on a number of firm beliefs: America must remain the leading power in space in both scientific and commercial areas; space is a strategically important domain for protecting U.S. interests; space should become a driver of the country’s economic development; and achieving these goals would be supported by cooperation with private companies and international partners. “We are a nation of pioneers. We are the people who crossed an ocean, settled a vast continent, inhabited a boundless wilderness, and then looked to the stars. That is our history and that is our destiny,” declared Donald Trump. These beliefs were embodied in a number of doctrinal documents. The Presidential Memorandum “Space Policy Directive-1” (SPD-1) in December 2017 became one of the first steps in Donald Trump’s space policy. The document set a course for the exploration and use of lunar resources, as well as preparation for missions to Mars. In order to carry out such costly projects, the memorandum emphasized cooperation with commercial entities and international partners. In the area of national security, Donald Trump formulated the principle that the United States must maintain “peace through strength” in outer space. In the 2018 “Nuclear Posture Review” approved by him, the goal was set to modernize space-based intelligence and communication systems to strengthen nuclear deterrence. In the “National Defense Strategy” adopted in the same year, the focus was on investments in resilience and the restoration of production capabilities necessary to enhance the country’s space potential. In December 2018, the “National Security Strategy” was published, in which space was defined as a zone of confrontation, marking a more rigid approach compared to Barack Obama’s position, who merely acknowledged threats from adversaries. This document, along with the “National Space Strategy,” emphasized the strategic importance of space and the need to ensure peace in it through the demonstration of strength. In the new 2018 National Space Strategy, the administration focused on creating a more resilient space architecture, enhancing deterrence capabilities, and ensuring security in space. In 2018, under the pretext of a threat in space from China and Russia, the Trump administration initiated the creation of the United States Space Force, which in December 2019 became the sixth branch of the U.S. Armed Forces. Under Donald Trump, the United States Space Command (SPACECOM) was restored as an independent combatant command. SPACECOM, which existed as a separate military branch from 1985 to 2002, was dissolved during the reorganization following the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001. The president restored it by using his executive powers. Today, the command is responsible for integrating the space capabilities of all military services (management of satellite communication, intelligence, navigation, and missile warning systems), developing doctrines and tactics for warfare in space, and ensuring U.S. superiority in this strategic domain. In the updated 2018 Missile Defense Strategy, special attention was given to the creation of a multi-layered system of space sensors and satellites for tracking hypersonic and ballistic threats — in particular, the satellite system “Hypersonic and Ballistic Tracking Space Sensor Layer,” which provides continuous monitoring of potential threats and data transmission. Additionally, the Trump administration initiated a transition from large satellite systems to a more resilient and distributed architecture — the Next-Generation Overhead Persistent Infrared (Next-Gen OPIR). Another presidential initiative was to accelerate the development of a “persistent monitoring layer” within the “Proliferated Warfighter Space Architecture,” which includes hundreds of satellites capable of tracking enemy missiles at all stages of flight. The administration actively promoted a public-private partnership model. SPD-2, issued in 2018, aimed to simplify the regulation of commercial space activities, including the licensing of launches and satellite operations. NASA’s budget was also oriented toward supporting private companies through contracts and partnership proposals. In September 2020, the administration of Donald Trump approved Space Policy Directive SPD-5, which became the first national document establishing cybersecurity standards for space systems. It outlined principles for protecting space assets and infrastructure from cyber threats, including the design and operation of systems based on a risk-oriented approach and the introduction of engineering solutions that account for cybersecurity threats. The directive emphasized cooperation between government agencies and commercial companies, and called on space system operators to develop cyber protection plans, including measures to counter unauthorized access, secure command and telemetry systems, prevent jamming and spoofing, and manage risks in the supply chain. The Trump administration aimed to strengthen international alliances in the space sector. One of its projects was the Artemis Accords, signed on October 13, 2020, which set standards for the exploration of the Moon, Mars, and other celestial bodies, including the registration of objects, sharing of scientific data, and ensuring the safety of space missions. A total of 53 countries joined the agreement. According to independent researcher Irina Isakova, the ultimate goal of the Artemis Accords was to attract technologies and form a new space community willing to operate under American rules. A notable departure from the policies of previous U.S. administrations was the rejection of multilateral initiatives to limit the militarization of space. The view of outer space as a new domain of warfare contradicted the spirit of the 1967 Outer Space Treaty. Nevertheless, the United States refused to participate in discussions on new international agreements aimed at preventing an arms race in space — in particular, proposals from Russia and China to ban the placement of weapons in space and to prevent their first use. Instead, the Trump administration focused on the development of offensive orbital systems, including satellites capable of disabling enemy spacecraft. This approach increased tensions on the international stage and drew criticism from other countries. “Peace Through Strength”: An Analysis of Space Initiatives (2017–2021) During his first presidential term, Donald Trump’s administration introduced new initiatives aimed at strengthening U.S. leadership in space, supporting the private sector, and ensuring national security. However, the implementation of these ambitious goals left a mixed legacy for the next administration. The use of the term “space superiority” provoked a negative response from the international community. The White House’s drive toward the militarization of space weakened the U.S. position on the diplomatic stage — the American view of space as a “warfighting domain” raised concerns that U.S. policy was provoking a space arms race. Declarations of a desire to strengthen international cooperation often contradicted the administration’s actual actions, leading to disagreements with allies and complicating the implementation of joint plans to protect satellites or develop norms of behavior in space. Doctrinal documents (such as the Defense Space Strategy) lacked a clear connection between goals and the means to achieve them. Unlike the more detailed strategies of previous administrations, Trump’s strategy offered only general recommendations. The initiative to create the Space Force turned out to be quite costly and led to excessive bureaucratization. Some initiatives faced budget constraints or delays due to technological unpreparedness, while cuts to Earth science programs caused concern among scientists. Overall, the stated goals of peaceful space exploration, aggressive rhetoric, and the actions of Trump’s administration undermined trust in the United States on the international stage. Evolution of Approaches in the Second Term (2025–2029) According to American analysts and former government officials, in its doctrinal approach to defense space policy, the Trump 2.0 administration will focus on offensive capabilities and the integration of commercial service providers into Pentagon projects. The main obstacle for the president’s space projects will be the issue of funding. One of Donald Trump’s key initiatives during his first presidency was the promotion of the idea to form a National Space Guard (NSG) as a reserve component to support the United States Space Force. At the time, the idea did not receive support. In March 2025, a bill to establish the NSG was introduced to Congress. One of its authors, Senator Mike Crapo, stated that “Guard members and reservists are often highly specialized and trained individuals entrusted to counter serious threats posed by global actors such as China and Russia.” On January 27, 2025, President Donald Trump signed an executive order to create the “Iron Dome of America”, which includes land-, air-, sea-, and space-based components, including orbital interceptor missiles. Just one month later, the ambitious initiative was renamed Golden Dome for America. The system is intended to protect the entire country from all types of missile threats. The general provisions of the order closely resemble the Strategic Defense Initiative plan of President Ronald Reagan from the 1980s. Creation of a dense system for intercepting and striking enemy missiles during the launch phase and even before launch;Deployment in outer space of intercept systems equipped with lasers to destroy enemy nuclear weapons;Deployment of interceptors in various orbits;Construction/deployment of a global ground-based infrastructure;Protection of critical assets and infrastructure within the framework of the extended deterrence concept;Modernization of battlefield air defense systems to protect military formations on the ground;Establishment of a complete and self-contained production cycle for all components of the “shield” exclusively within the United States, ensuring the security of the defense industry and logistics for the production of upgraded and advanced interceptors and tracking systems. In addition to the obvious analogy with the Strategic Defense Initiative (SDI), the current program also reflects the evolution of military technologies — the use of hypersonic sensors (Hypersonic and Ballistic Tracking Space Sensor Layer) and satellite networks like Next-Gen OPIR, which provide continuous monitoring. It is assumed that the system will be entirely produced in the United States. However, Kari Bingen, former Deputy Under Secretary of Defense for Intelligence and Security during the first Trump administration and now a fellow at CSIS, believes that the new administration will strive for close cooperation with Israel in the space domain. Although the technical and financial scale of the project raises skepticism among experts, the Golden Dome for America program may lead to greater involvement of private companies in the development and production of missile defense system components, stimulate the U.S. defense-industrial base, and ultimately contribute to a revision of the national defense strategy aimed at winning the arms race and achieving strategic invulnerability. At the same time, according to the December 2024 report “Government Space Programs: A Comprehensive Review of Government Space Strategies, Activities, and Budgets through 2033” by NovaSpace, 59% of global government funding for space programs comes from the U.S. budget, but Washington remains dissatisfied with the current funding level. The White House is betting on encouraging the involvement of private capital and foreign partners in space programs. A discussion held during the Small Satellite Symposium on February 5, 2025, in California highlighted strong competition for government contracts between legacy space program contractors (Lockheed Martin, Northrop Grumman, L3Harris, Raytheon Technologies, Boeing’s Millennium, General Dynamics) and several new consortium groups (Palantir Technologies and Anduril Industries, OpenAI and SpaceX). In the space sector, the United States holds not only strong technological and financial advantages but also significant competitive capacity. Trump’s 2.0 team includes many prominent figures with professional or commercial interests in space: Elon Musk, owner of SpaceX and Tesla; Jared Isaacman, NASA Administrator, CEO of Shift4 Payments and Draken International (which trained U.S. Air Force pilots); Steve Feinberg, candidate for Deputy Secretary of Defense and founder of Cerberus Capital Management; Tom Krause, Assistant Secretary of the Treasury and Director of Cloud Software Group; Jeff Bezos, advisor to space coordination councils and founder of Blue Origin, among others. The recent conflict between Donald Trump and Elon Musk, despite its public resonance, has not had a systemic impact on the administration’s strategy regarding the private sector. NASA officially stated its intent to continue implementing the president’s space priorities, using the full range of industrial partners. Any potential tactical slowdowns caused by corporate conflicts are offset by strong competition and diversification of contractors. NASA’s flagship program, the Artemis Accords, may undergo a shift in priorities. Its outspoken critic, Elon Musk, has consistently argued that the U.S. should abandon lunar exploration and focus on Mars. There remains a possibility that the Space Launch System (SLS) — the super-heavy launch vehicle for crewed missions beyond Earth orbit — may be canceled or significantly altered. Key roles could shift to private companies such as SpaceX or Blue Origin, with Elon Musk’s SpaceX Starship becoming the cornerstone of Martian ambitions. This is evidenced by budget cuts and job reductions: Boeing, the primary SLS contractor, has already announced potential layoffs. The future of the Artemis Accords will depend on decisions by the Trump administration, the influence of the private sector, and Congressional support. Invitation to a Space Arms Race The doctrinal approaches of the current U.S. president’s administration are transforming space into a full-fledged theater of military operations, where the United States seeks to establish dominance through a combination of military, commercial, and regulatory tools. During his first presidential term, Donald Trump laid the institutional groundwork for this strategy; in his second term, he is launching a qualitatively new phase of militarization. The 2018 National Space Strategy, with its emphasis on building a large-scale space architecture, marks a shift to the concept of “space as a warfighting domain.” The Golden Dome program effectively abandons the principle of “stability through vulnerability” and revives the Strategic Defense Initiative (SDI), which in the 1980s undermined nuclear deterrence stability and triggered a new round of confrontation. The Artemis program contributes to the fragmentation of the legal framework and undermines the regime established by the 1967 Outer Space Treaty. Trump’s “space” agenda is expected to further militarize the civilian sector of the economy, draw U.S. allies around the world into military space projects, and intensify global competition over frequencies, orbits, and cybersecurity standards. Such policies by the Trump administration have dangerous consequences for international security, including the escalation of the space arms race, the risk of space-based conflicts, and the provocation of nuclear arsenal expansion — especially by China. The New Space Landscape and Future Challenges Donald Trump’s administration has radically revised the U.S. approach to outer space, turning it from a domain of international cooperation into a stage of strategic rivalry. The creation of the U.S. Space Force, the launch of the Golden Dome program, and the promotion of the Artemis Accords represent a clear trajectory toward military-technological dominance, supported by public-private partnerships. These steps have sparked not only a wave of technological advancement but also increased international tension — including criticism from Russia and China, which advocate for banning the militarization of orbital space, as well as major disagreements over the interpretation of space law. The Trump era will leave behind a dual legacy: on one hand, accelerated innovation and commercialization; on the other, risks of legal fragmentation and the escalation of an arms race. Under Donald Trump, space is becoming an integral part of U.S. defense strategy. The future of humanity in space will depend on whether the White House administration can balance its desire to deter space competitors with a willingness to preserve dialogue — otherwise, near-Earth space risks turning into the “new front of a cold war.” Sources: V.P. Kozin. U.S. Space Forces: Their Key Missions and Future Potentials. Moscow: Sabashnikov Publishing House, 2022. 444 pages. ISBN: 978-5-82420-184-0. 

Defense & Security
The Cooperation Council for the Arab States of the Gulf ,is a regional, intergovernmental, political, and economic union comprising Bahrain, Kuwait, Oman, Qatar, Saudi Arabia, and the uae

Transactional Politics: Rethinking U.S.-Gulf Security and Defence Relationships amid U.S. Decline

by Kristian Coates Ulrichsen

한국어로 읽기 Leer en español In Deutsch lesen Gap اقرأ بالعربية Lire en français Читать на русском Abstract This article analyses the shifts in security and defence policies across the six states of the Gulf Cooperation Council (GCC) and disentangles political and geopolitical strains in the U.S.-Gulf relationship from practical measures to boost cooperation and deepen interoperability. In examining the trajectory of security and defence relationships, the article assesses the stability and durability of the underlying components of U.S.-Gulf partnerships in a time of rapid change. The article begins a section that details how and why the perception of U.S. disengagement has evolved, despite ongoing reliance on facilities such as Al-Udeid in Qatar for forward basing arrangements, before a second section examines regional responses to the withdrawal from Afghanistan in 2021, the Russia-Ukraine war in 2022, and the Israeli war in Gaza that erupted in 2023. A third section explores the ‘nuts and bolts’ of security and defence relationships and considers issues such as U.S. arms sales and Department of Defense programs, such as Red Sands in Saudi Arabia and the Comprehensive Security Integration and Prosperity Agreement with Bahrain, as ways to boost cooperation in the face of political tension and stiff competition. As U.S. troop levels have ebbed and flowed, a final section considers whether a more flexible approach to security relationships is sustainable in a far more transactional era of international power and politics. Little more than 6 months separated the chaotic U.S. withdrawal from Afghanistan in August 2021 from the full-scale Russian invasion of Ukraine in February 2022.[1] The manner by which the U.S. was seen by many observers to abandon the Afghan government in the face of a resurgent Taliban cast doubt among partner nations in the Gulf Cooperation Council (GCC) as to the reliability and ‘staying power’ of the U.S. in the region, and rekindled memories of the withdrawal of American support for Hosni Mubarak in Egypt as the Arab uprisings began in early 2011.[2] Kabul appeared to be another blow to a U.S.-led regional order that was already being questioned by officials in the Gulf States even as they contributed to its weakening by diversifying their own political, economic, and, to a lesser extent, security and defence relationships. For many in leadership positions in the Gulf States, the fall of Kabul appeared to be one more step in a process of U.S. disengagement which they perceived to be one-directional and to take place across successive presidencies as different as Obama was to Trump and Trump was to Biden.[3] Whereas the withdrawal from Afghanistan witnessed the U.S. acting unilaterally to secure its own interests, narrowly defined and without seeming to take account of those of its partners and allies, the build-up of tension in Ukraine saw the Biden administration engage intensively with allies and partners in the runup to and aftermath of the Russian invasion. U.S. intelligence and information-sharing, which were seen to have erred badly in Afghanistan in 2021, was a high-profile and very visible policy over Ukraine in 2022, and restored a measure of credibility, especially among NATO allies.[4] However, in the Gulf States, the policy response to Ukraine did not deliver a ‘dividend’ in terms of restoring faith in the U.S. as a trustworthy partner, as GCC states pursued hedging strategies and further diversified their range of security partnerships, albeit in divergent ways. The war in Gaza, which erupted after the Hamas-led incursion into southern Israel on October 7, 2023, generated additional questions about the durability of an increasingly fragile regional order.[5] And yet, the ‘nuts and bolts’ of security and defence ties between the U.S. and Gulf States have continued to evolve, albeit in a looser and more transactional form that at any time since the structure of U.S. primacy in the region took shape in the late-1980s and early-1990s. Examples of diverging trajectories include the United Arab Emirates becoming a safe haven for Russian capital and business, regional responses to Houthi attacks on shipping in the Red Sea, and the resilience of Saudi-Iranian ties even as hopes for Saudi-Israeli normalization faded. In October 2024, the decision of the Saudi Crown Prince, Mohammed bin Salman, to receive Iran’s Foreign Minister, Abbas Araghchi, just as the Biden administration was weighing its support for a retaliatory Israeli attack on Iran, demonstrated how perceptions of regional interests were moving apart.[6] It is this ‘puzzle’ of divergence in the political and security tracks of U.S.-Gulf relations that is the focus of analysis, as ties have simultaneously become more fragile yet also shown resilient adaptability. This article examines the changing trajectories of U.S.-Gulf security relationships and moves beyond the focus, often seen in American policy discourse, on U.S. demands for ‘burden-sharing’ among regional partners, which redoubled in the first and second Trump presidencies. Instead, the article examines the ways in which the Gulf States are developing a more transactional approach to U.S. partnerships, resulting in a more flexible model of cooperation. This is consistent with broader shifts from a U.S.-dominated regional order toward the internationalization of regional security structures, as policy preferences (on all sides) have gradually diverged. While there is no monolithic approach to ‘the Gulf’, by and large there is a trend toward states no longer being willing to rely solely on U.S. guarantees, borne out of events in the 2010s, and to developing a more diversified portfolio of security and defence partnerships, again at different speeds across different countries, and with no uniformity on the choice of external partner. At the same time, several Gulf States, notably Saudi Arabia, the United Arab Emirates (UAE), and Qatar have emerged as assertive regional and international actors, and new forms of partnership have evolved. There are four sections to this article, which begins with an examination of how and why the perception in the Gulf States of U.S. disengagement has evolved, despite ongoing reliance on facilities such as Al-Udeid in Qatar for forward basing arrangements. A second section examines regional responses to the withdrawal from Afghanistan in 2021, the Russia-Ukraine war in 2022, and the conflict in Gaza which began in October 2023. The third section explores the ‘nuts and bolts’ of security and defence relationships and considers issues such as U.S. arms sales and Department of Defense programs, such as Red Sands in Saudi Arabia and the recently concluded Comprehensive Security Integration and Prosperity Agreement with Bahrain, as ways to boost practical security cooperation in the face of political tension and stiff competition. As U.S. troop levels have ebbed and flowed, the concluding section considers whether and how a more flexible approach to security relationships is sustainable in a more transactional era of power and politics. Gulf States’ Perceptions of U.S. Disengagement A belief held by many policymakers in the Gulf States, that the U.S. is less engaged and/or less reliable and predictable in its approach to regional affairs, has taken root over the decade and a half which has elapsed since the Arab Spring uprisings of 2010–11. To be sure, this belief is rooted in an idealized view of U.S.-Gulf relations which has, over the three decades since the Gulf War in 1991, been based on extremely visible and large-scale force deployments in the region, especially during the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq, which were not typical of long-term trends.[7] Nevertheless, this perception has lasted across consecutive presidential administrations and has become more deeply entrenched precisely because a pattern has been seen to develop across such different presidencies as Obama to Trump to Biden, and as U.S. troop levels in the region were inexorably drawn down.[8] While there was no regionwide consensus or monolithic view of the U.S. in the Gulf, and no one single incident which sparked a reassessment, attitudes evolved in response to a series of policy decisions which unfolded over the space of a decade. The effect has been to strengthen a process of diversification of Gulf States’ security and defence relationships to avoid over-reliance on any single partner in a world of growing multipolarity and strategic options.[9] Deciding where to begin with the many issues which caused degrees of concern in Gulf capitals at U.S. policymaking intent is a little like asking the proverbial question about how long a piece of string might be. For example, the second term of the George W. Bush administration saw frictions develop between the U.S. and GCC states, notably Saudi Arabia, over the mishandling of the occupation of post-Saddam Iraq and the sense of anger in Gulf capitals that Iran appeared to be the primary geopolitical beneficiary.[10] This caused significant mistrust in Riyadh at U.S. policy intent (and outcomes) in Iraq and the region.[11] It was in the Obama administration, however, that the perception of drift began to develop, including in relation to the so-called ‘pivot to Asia’ in the late-2000s which Gulf leaders (erroneously) saw as a shift in U.S. focus away from the Middle East, rather than post-Cold War Europe.[12] However, it was the withdrawal of political support from the embattled Egyptian president, Hosni Mubarak, in February 2011, which caused shock and bitterness in Gulf capitals, who saw the move as a betrayal of a longstanding U.S. partner.[13] The Obama administration’s response to the Arab uprisings (which, in the case of unrest in GCC states, was far more muted and reflective of U.S. interests in the stability of its regional partners) was followed by the disclosure in November 2013 that American and Iranian officials had been meeting secretly in Oman for over a year, and by the subsequent negotiations between the P5 + 1 and Iran for a Joint Comprehensive Plan of Action (JCPOA) to address the Iranian nuclear file in 2015. Both negotiations cut out the GCC states and added to concerns at the direction of U.S. policymaking in the region.[14] Partly in response to concerns that the JCPOA focused too narrowly on only one aspect of Iran’s regional activity and did not address other issues, Saudi Arabia and the UAE intervened militarily in Yemen in March 2015 to push back the advance of Houthi rebels they believed were in receipt of direct Iranian assistance.[15] An interview given by Obama to The Atlantic magazine in 2016 sealed the breakdown in working relations as officials reacted with fury to a comment about ‘free riders’ which they perceived to be directed at them rather than, as was the case, against the British and French governments over their intervention in Libya in 2011.[16] Genuine displeasure, as well as a degree of bewilderment, at the direction of certain aspects of the Obama administration’s policies toward the Middle East contributed to the early embrace of the Trump presidency by officials in several Gulf capitals, including Riyadh and Abu Dhabi as well as Manama.[17] In June 2017, Trump initially endorsed the Saudi-Emirati-Bahraini (as well as Egyptian) move to isolate Qatar, in a decision which caused shockwaves in Doha as well as in the U.S. Departments of State and Defense. The sight of a sitting president seemingly abandoning a U.S. partner, albeit only temporarily, raised powerful questions about the reliability and durability of the Gulf States’ most important external relationship.[18] Two years later, it was the Saudis’ and Emiratis’ turn to call into question the partnership with the U.S. as the Trump administration chose not to respond to a series of attacks, generally although never formally attributed to Iran or to Iranian proxy groups, on energy and maritime targets in Saudi Arabia and the UAE.[19] In September 2019, 2 days after a missile and drone attack on Saudi oil facilities temporarily knocked out half the Kingdom’s oil production, Trump noted pointedly ‘That was an attack on Saudi Arabia, and that wasn’t an attack on us’ and added that ‘I’m somebody that would like not to have war’.[20] Political decisions by successive presidential administrations therefore injected doubt as to the value or even the existence of security guarantees which were believed by many observers of regional affairs to form the bedrock of contemporary U.S.-Gulf relations.[21] The impact became clear when tensions between the United States and Iran soared in the aftermath of the killing of Qassim Soleimani in an American drone strike in Baghdad in January 2020, when regional officials in GCC states called for de-escalation.[22] President Biden sought to restore U.S. credibility when he reasserted ‘the U.S. commitment to help Saudi Arabia defend its territory as it faces attacks from Iranian-aligned groups’ after he took office in 2021.[23] However, poor relations between Biden and Saudi Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman, stemming from comments Biden made in a campaign debate in 2019, proved insurmountable, with MBS going so far as to reply ‘Simply, I do not care’, when asked in 2022 what he thought of Biden’s opinion of him.[24] Regional Responses to Afghanistan, Ukraine, and Gaza In August 2021, the disorganized and seemingly unilateral nature of the final U.S. withdrawal from Kabul provided yet another indication, in the eyes of already sceptical policy analysts and officials in GCC states, of the potentially capricious nature of American interests. While there was a broad consensus that the ‘forever wars’ launched in the 2000s could not continue indefinitely, the manner by which the Biden administration conducted its final drawdown reinforced the concerns listed above about the durability of U.S. commitments to regional partners, and as elements of the political right and left coalesced around support for policies of restraint and isolationism.[25] The sight of the Afghan air force rendered inoperable after the withdrawal of American training and maintenance, and the flight of Ashraf Ghani, the U.S.-backed President, to the UAE, were indicators of the vulnerability of over-reliance on single security partners, however powerful.[26] Less than six months later, the strenuous attempts made by the Biden administration to work with allies and partners to coordinate policy in early 2022 as Russian forces massed on the border with Ukraine, and then to push back against Moscow after the full-scale invasion commenced on February 24, ought to have repaired some of the damage caused by the optics around the chaos in Kabul in 2021. Specific measures included the deployment of additional U.S. troops to Eastern Europe as well as the sharing of intelligence designed to deter Vladimir Putin from moving into Ukraine.[27] Qatar, which was accorded Major Non-NATO Ally Status by the Biden administration in January 2022, in part a recognition of its assistance to U.S. and international humanitarian efforts in Afghanistan during and after the withdrawal, also sought to play a balancing role in gas markets as Emir Tamim visited Biden in the White House and hosted Russian energy officials in Doha.[28] Europe’s pivot away from Russia restated the Gulf States’ centrality in global energy security considerations, while the rise in oil and gas prices in late-2011 and for most of 2022 also returned GCC states’ budgets to surplus after years of deficits following the oil price crash of 2014.[29] However, the ‘coming together’ effect noticeable in the U.S.-European (and NATO) response to Russia-Ukraine in 2022 did not appear to mollify strained relationships in the Gulf; if anything, the responses to the invasion made the different trajectories which had taken shape in prior years all the more visible. Like much of the Global South, the Gulf States did not take sides in the Russia-Ukraine war. Policymakers in GCC capitals did not share the view of their counterparts in Washington and Europe that the collective defence of Ukraine was ‘an international order defining event, a generational moment in which international alliances and norms are being reshaped’.[30] Regional leaders refused to get drawn into a new era of bloc rivalry and, unlike the Iraqi invasion of Kuwait in 1990, did not deem Russia’s aggression against Ukraine to pose a direct threat to their political or security interests, in common with counterparts across much of the ‘Global South’.[31] A variation in stances toward the February 2022 invasion and subsequent developments nevertheless fell along a spectrum that ranged from Qatar aligning most closely with Ukraine (and the U.S. position) and Saudi Arabia, Bahrain, and the UAE leaning more closely toward Russia, with Kuwait and Oman falling somewhat in-between. These variations in position mirrored those during the GCC rift between 2017 and 2020, and indicate that, for the Qatari leadership, the sight of a larger power threatening (and ultimately invading) a smaller neighbour carried resonance, so soon after the blockade era when Doha faced pressure from Saudi Arabia, Bahrain, and the UAE. However, while Qatari leaders announced a pause in new investments in Russia, existing links with Moscow remained unchanged, and the Qatar Investment Authority became the largest non-Russian shareholder in Rosneft after BP announced it would terminate its own relationship with the state-owned giant.[32] The UAE position was complicated by the fact that the country had just taken up a rotating two-year seat on the United Nations Security Council for 2022–23. This forced the UAE to take positions even if the Emirati choice was to abstain on two Security Council votes in February 2022 which condemned the Russian invasion and called for an emergency session of the United General Assembly – abstentions which caused considerable friction with the U.S.[33] Policy responses in and after 2022 reinforced perceptions of drift in relations between the U.S. and key Gulf partners. Both Mohammed bin Zayed in Abu Dhabi and Mohammed bin Salman in Riyadh spoke on several occasions with President Putin and appeared to rebuff entreaties by President Biden during the opening weeks of the war.[34] Positions taken on Russia-Ukraine in 2022 illustrated how tensions that built up over a period of years beforehand became manifest in the regional reactions. After the imposition of additional U.S., European Union, and British sanctions on Russian entities in 2022, the UAE (and Dubai in particular) emerged as a welcoming haven for Russian capital and business elites, several of whom appeared to obtain Emirati citizenship.[35] Many of the sanctioned Russian companies continued to do business with counterparts in the Gulf States with few evident consequences, creating gaps in the moves to isolate the Putin regime. In 2023, Mohammed bin Saleh Al-Sada, the former Minister of State for Energy in Qatar from 2011 to 2018, was elected Chairman of the Board of Rosneft, in a private capacity but demonstrative of the limited reach of Western appeals to reduce Gulf ties with sanctioned entities in Russia.[36] The case of oil prices illustrated how the Gulf States assertively put their own interests forward even if they were seen to clash with the interests of partners such as the U.S. There is nothing untoward about this, as states routinely pursue national interests based on a pragmatic calculation of internal and external interests. However, in the context of the emphasis placed by the Biden administration and its European allies on the defence of Ukraine in the name of an international rules-based order, the sight of their closest partners in the Middle East not joining with anything like the same strength of approach sent visible signals of policy divergence over Ukraine. European and American leaders, including Boris Johnson and Joe Biden, visited Saudi Arabia in the spring and summer of 2022 to make the case for an increase in Saudi (and OPEC/OPEC+) output in order to bring down oil prices which had surged.[37] Moreover, the acrimonious aftermath of President Biden’s visit to Jeddah and meeting with Mohammed bin Salman in July 2022, and the coordinated Saudi-Russian oil output cut in October 2022, demonstrated the divergence of interests, especially as officials in D.C. and Riyadh traded barbs over whether (or not) the Saudi decision to cut output, or the Biden administration’s request to increase production, were politically motivated.[38] Following the outbreak of the war in Gaza after the Hamas-led attacks on southern Israel on October 7, 2023, the legitimacy of aspects of the system of international order came under growing scrutiny by critics who contrasted U.S. responses to developments in Ukraine as opposed to Gaza. Images of Palestinian suffering caused anger across the Middle East as well as much of the Global South, including in the Gulf States, and made it politically difficult for officials to ignore, with the Saudi leadership, in particular, reassessing the terms of any normalization agreement with Israel.[39] Discrepancies in labelling acts committed by Russian and Israeli forces (in Ukraine and Gaza, respectively) as ‘war crimes’, and about whether to engage with the International Court of Justice and the International Criminal Court, brought accusations of double standards and hypocrisy, and weakened the credibility of the international order in the eyes of many in the non-Western world.[40] While Gaza did not prove a breaking-point in U.S.-Gulf relations, it did bring to the surface the different trajectories in security and defence interests and priorities. Statements by leaders in Gulf capitals hardened as the bombardment of Gaza continued, with even Mohammed bin Salman going as far as to condemn ‘the collective genocide committed by Israel against the brotherly Palestinian people’ at an Arab-Islamic Summit in Riyadh in November 2024.[41] These remarks came just 14 months after the Crown Prince told Fox News in September 2023 that ‘every day, we get closer’ to a Saudi-Israeli breakthrough that, he predicted, would be ‘the biggest historical deal since the end of the Cold War’.[42] Officials in Oman went further in the use of harsh language to condemn Israeli actions which at times bordered on tacit support for Hamas, and was reflective of and rooted in an upsurge of anger among Omani citizens, hitherto one of the most politically quiescent commentariats in the region.[43] Leaders in all GCC states had to acknowledge the domestic backlash against the destruction of Gaza, a balancing act made more delicate in Bahrain and the UAE, the two Gulf signatories to the Abraham Accords with Israel in 2020.[44] An additional consideration for policymakers in Riyadh, Abu Dhabi, Dubai, and Doha, in particular, was an interest in ‘de-risking’ potential regional volatility as focus turned to large-scale developmental, energy, and infrastructure projects, including those associated with Saudi Arabia’s Vision 2030.[45] ‘Nuts and Bolts’ of Evolving Security and Defence Relationships In the face of the political and geopolitical tensions noted above, U.S. security relationships and defence partnerships with the Gulf States have evolved. A decade of change since 2015 has illustrated that ties tend to work better on an ad hoc, case-by-case basis rather than as part of a grand strategic framework. An example of the latter was the launch of a U.S.-GCC Strategic Partnership in 2015, at a summit at Camp David between Gulf leaders (only two of whom attended) and President Obama, and the creation of five working groups to cover cooperation in counterterrorism, missile defence, military preparedness and training, critical defence capabilities, and cyber security.[46] Both the working groups and the strategic partnership fell into abeyance during the Trump administration, and were superseded by U.S. efforts to form a Middle East Strategic Alliance (MESA) with GCC states plus Egypt and Jordan. MESA failed to gain traction for a variety of reasons, including the intra-GCC rift over Qatar, a failure of parties to agree on the scope and scale of the issues to be covered by the initiative, and Egypt’s withdrawal in 2019.[47] The U.S.-GCC working groups reconvened in February 2023, nearly a year into the Russia-Ukraine war, for their first meeting in years, against the backdrop of the supply of Iranian armed drones to Russia and the provision of Russian defence assistance to Iran. The fact that Iranian weapons systems were being tested on the battlefield in Ukraine and in operational and combat settings against civilian and infrastructure targets highlighted how a secondary impact of the Russia-Ukraine war could impact on U.S.-GCC interests.[48] U.S. and Gulf States’ navies then participated in a major 18-day International Maritime Exercise in February and March 2023 co-led by Saudi Arabia, Bahrain, and the U.S. and directed from the Maritime Security Centre in Oman. Held under the auspices of the U.S. Naval Forces Central Command, more than 7000 personnel and 35 ships from over 50 countries and organizations took part in exercises in the Red Sea, the Gulf of Aden, the Arabian Sea, and the Gulf.[49] Perhaps uncoincidentally, Russia and China joined Iran in a joint naval exercise in the Gulf of Oman the same month, illustrating how, in the ‘nuts and bolts’ of security and defence relationships, the GCC still chose to side with the U.S.[50] A host of new initiatives since 2020 suggest that new security partnerships between the U.S. and individual Gulf States are evolving on bespoke bilateral and issue-specific lines. CENTCOM has worked closely with Saudi officials to develop the Red Sands Integrated Experimentation Centre as a regional testing facility in Saudi Arabia to boost cooperation against the shared threat from missile and drone attacks from Iran and regional proxies.[51] Joint exercises involving U.S. and Saudi forces have tested systems to destroy and disable unmanned aerial systems of the type that breached Saudi air defences during the ballistic missile and drone strikes on oil infrastructure facilities in September 2019.[52] U.S. officials also play an integral role in Saudi Arabia’s defence transformation plan with Department of Defense personnel assisting their Saudi counterparts with overhauling human-capital development, joint staff development, intelligence reorganization and force sustainment, and the development of a National Defence College. The U.S. role in capacity-building is a step up from the hitherto-largely scattered interventions tied to the foreign military sales process rather than in support of any deeper or underlying policy objective.[53] Another example of renewed U.S. commitment to security ties with a Gulf partner was the signing in September 2023 of a Comprehensive Security Integration and Prosperity Agreement (C-SIPA) with Bahrain. Announced during a visit to Washington, D.C. by Bahrain’s Crown Prince Salman bin Hamad Al Khalifa and described as ‘the most advanced formal security agreement the United States has with any country in the region’, C-SIPA will expand defence and security cooperation as well as trade and investment ties through collaborative measures across the security spectrum, albeit without a mutual defence guarantee.[54] Although many of the specific security-related initiatives are classified, C-SIPA may build upon the recent spate of U.S. strategic dialogues with Gulf partners, which began with Qatar in 2017 and now encompass every GCC state on a bilateral (rather than collective) basis. How C-SIPA unfolds will likely be studied carefully in other Gulf capitals, especially Riyadh and Abu Dhabi, which have long demanded enhanced U.S. defence guarantees, most recently in relation to any U.S.-brokered agreement to normalize with Israel (in the Saudi case) and in the desire for ‘codified’ U.S. security commitments (for the UAE).[55] Officials in the UAE have chosen a different approach which reflects the confidence of Emirati policymakers that the country is an influential ‘middle power’ capable of holding its own on an inter-regional and increasingly global stage. This was evident in the signing of the Abraham Accord with Israel in September 2020 in which the text of the agreement signed by the UAE was far more substantive than those signed by Morocco, Bahrain, and Sudan, and included reference to a ‘Strategic Agenda for the Middle East’ that was unique to the Emirati-Israeli accord.[56] The strategic and security-focused aspects of the UAE-Israel agreement enabled the normalization process to survive periodic frictions in the political relationship, as security and defence relations took centre-stage in the new initiatives and joint ventures announced by both parties, and neither the UAE nor Bahrain has withdrawn from the Accords although other states have not joined.[57] Both Israel and the UAE, as small states with significant hard power capabilities, have operationalized formal cooperation in the security and defence realm, including a first joint military exercise in the Red Sea in November 2021 which was coordinated by the U.S. Fifth Fleet (stationed in Bahrain), which ‘set a precedent for collective policing at sea to counter weapons-smuggling and threats posed by pirates and the Iranian navy’.[58] In February 2023, a venture between EDGE, an Emirati defence consortium and Israel Aerospace Industries unveiled their first jointly created unmanned naval vessel, for use in surveillance, reconnaissance, and mine detection, during the annual Naval Defence and Maritime Security Exhibition in Abu Dhabi.[59] Sharing of intelligence, reportedly concerning Hezbollah and the Houthi movement in Yemen, also took place, including in the aftermath of three missile and drone strikes on Abu Dhabi in January 2022.[60] Emirati policymakers have continued to engage with the U.S. and other regional and international partners in a series of more focused ‘mini-lateral’ fora, including the 12U2 (with India, Israel, and the U.S.), the Negev Forum (with the U.S. and other Arab states which have normalized relations with Israel), the Somalia Quint (with the U.S., the U.K., Qatar, and Turkey), and the Yemen Quartet (with the U.S., the U.K., and Saudi Arabia).[61] Such issue-based tie-ups outside formal institutions provide opportunities for middle powers such as the UAE to engage with specific partners and have become key elements in the UAE’s evolving approach to regional and foreign affairs, especially in Asia and the Indo-Pacific, areas of increasing focus both for the Gulf States (for economic and energy reasons) and the U.S. (connected to power competition and strategic rivalry with China).[62] How the U.S. and its partners in the Gulf balance (or fail to balance) the competing and sometimes diverging interests vis-à-vis China (and, to an extent, Russia) will go some way toward defining the next phase of political relationships that may still impinge on defence and security ties, as seen in the furore over a possible Chinese naval facility in Abu Dhabi that contributed in part to significant tensions in the bilateral U.S.-UAE relationship in 2021.[63] Shifting Toward a Transactional Approach It may be that the future of relationships between the U.S. and the Gulf States will be based around a set of transactional principles that do not commit or bind the parties to long-term arrangements and represent a more fluid approach to regional affairs. A stronger but narrower technocratic focus on shared areas of interest could help to insulate U.S.-Gulf relationships from the types of political pressures and uncertainties which have generated the perception of drift. However, ‘taking politics out’ of the equation may not be easy to do in practice and could add to layers of mutual misunderstandings or grievance, as with the U.S. pressure on the UAE over its relations with China and Russia, or on Saudi Arabia not to join the expanded BRICS + grouping in 2023 (which the UAE joined but the Saudis have yet to do).[64] Several developments since 2023 provide indications as to how a new configuration of interests could function in a genuinely multipolar landscape. The Saudi-Iran agreement in March 2023 to restore diplomatic relations, which was announced in (and by) China, could be a harbinger of what a more variegated relationship might look like, with greater flexibility to rethink and reorient interests and policies. The Beijing deal appeared to take U.S. officials by surprise, and came in the midst of Beltway speculation about the prospect of Saudi normalization with Israel rather than with Iran.[65] While Saudi and Iranian officials had engaged in multiple prior rounds of talks, beginning in 2021 and facilitated by Iraq and Oman, the decision to obtain Chinese endorsement of the deal was as symbolic as it was significant.[66] China has diplomatic relations with Teheran and Riyadh as well as energy and economic ties in both Iran and Saudi Arabia, and thus could play a balancing role in ways the U.S. simply cannot. Moreover, at a time of rising tension between Iran and the U.S. and Israel, the Chinese backing for the Saudi deal signalled the desire of Beijing and its two regional partners for diplomacy and not conflict.[67] As the Gulf has seen a regional de-escalation of tension since 2021, officials in Gulf States have leveraged what influence they have to contribute to security in different ways. These include mediation, whether in regional conflicts (by Oman and Qatar) or in aspects of the Russia-Ukraine war (by Saudi Arabia and the UAE). Oman’s Foreign Minister since 2020 has been Badr bin Hamad Albusaidi, for whom a characteristic of Omani foreign policy has long been that ‘we try to make use of our intermediate position between larger powers to reduce the potential for conflict in our neighbourhood’.[68] Omani officials have kept open indirect channels of dialogue between the U.S. and Iran and also between Saudi and Houthi officials as they continue to seek to reach agreement in Yemen.[69] Qatari mediators engaged intensively with U.S. and Egyptian counterparts to secure the release of hostages taken by Hamas in October 2023, in return for a pause in Israeli military operations in Gaza, and reached a fragile three-stage ceasefire agreement in January 2025, one day before the Biden administration gave way to the second Trump presidency.[70] The close Qatari-U.S. coordination over Gaza built upon the confidence in Qatari mediation abilities generated by their role in facilitating and supporting the U.S. withdrawal from Kabul in 2021.[71] Saudi and Emirati officials engaged differently as they sought to leverage their relationships both with the U.S. and Russia to facilitate prisoner exchanges and contribute to confidence-building measures to mitigate the impact of the war in Ukraine. The occasional releases of prisoners may only have amounted to pinpricks in the course of the most serious conflict in Europe since the Second World War, but they illustrate that, for all the political tensions over the Gulf States’ reluctance to be drawn into picking sides in any great power competition, the ability to maintain diverse contacts and balance different relationships is conducive to diplomatic initiatives in a polarized world. The subsequent Saudi centrality to the process of U.S.-Russian re-engagement in Trump’s second term illustrated the Kingdom’s desire to have a seat at the table and burnish its credibility as a diplomatic facilitator, possibly with potential future Iran-U.S. talks in mind, especially after Saudi and Emirati displeasure at being cut out of the JCPOA negotiations in 2015.[72] Attacks on maritime targets in the Red Sea by Houthi militants in Yemen have nevertheless highlighted the delicate balancing act facing Gulf States as the deadliest war between Israelis and Palestinians since 1948 threatens the rapprochement that had marked the conduct of regional politics across the Middle East prior to October 7, 2023. Memories of Houthi missile and drone attacks against Saudi cities and infrastructure targets (between 2015 and 2022) and against Abu Dhabi (in 2022) remain fresh. Especially as Vision 2030 passed its halfway point (having been launched by Mohammed bin Salman in 2016) and the ‘giga-projects’ along Saudi Arabia’s Red Sea coastline move into the construction and delivery phase, ‘de-risking’ has become a priority for the Saudi leadership as they seek to attract foreign investors and visitors.[73] Officials remain mindful of the optics that went around the world during the Saudi Arabian Grand Prix in March 2022 when the annual Formula One race in Jeddah took place against the backdrop of thick black smoke billowing from a nearby oil storage facility struck by the Houthis the day before.[74] Policy responses to the Houthi attacks in the Red Sea which began in November 2023 and triggered a multinational response in January 2024 indicated the careful balancing act at play in the Gulf, especially for Saudi Arabia, given the location of projects such as Neom on the Red Sea coastline. Bahrain was the only GCC state to be named as a participant in Operation Prosperity Guardian, the multi-country coalition which was formed in December 2023 to respond to the maritime attacks. However, Bahrain did not take part in the kinetic ship- and air-based operations and it was notable that the airstrikes against Houthi targets in Yemen did not involve U.S. or British forces based in the Gulf.[75] Instead, the strikes were launched from bases in Cyprus, the U.K., and the U.S., thereby minimizing the risks to the Gulf States from any blowback either from the Houthis or Iran. Operation Prosperity Guardian may therefore be a harbinger of a more flexible approach to U.S.-GCC relations in which security and defence cooperation continues on a technocratic basis even as there is greater elasticity, and, at times, degrees of divergence in (geo)political interests.[76] The return of Donald Trump to the Oval Office in January 2025, as the first president in 130 years to serve a non-consecutive second term, suggests that U.S. decision-making, in both domestic and foreign policy, will continue along highly transactional, unpredictable, and volatile lines. A move toward a ‘post-American’ order, regionally in the Middle East and in the structure of international politics, is likely to further reshape perceptions and policies. As the Gulf States are neither allies (in the formal sense) nor adversaries of the United States, they occupy a middle ground which may shield them from swings in U.S. policymaking toward these categories of states. It is probable that the assertion of Gulf States’ interests in engaging with Iran, as well as with China and Russia will deepen the divergence of trajectories with the U.S. and increase the likelihood that ties will reframe around a looser and more transactional-based approach. The Gaza war may not have led to a rupture with the U.S., or with Israel, but, coming in parallel with the war in Ukraine, it has intensified the repositioning of the Gulf States in a rapidly changing system of international power. Declaration of Conflicting Interests The author declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article. Funding The author received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article. Footnotes 1. References in this paper to the Russian invasion of Ukraine refer to the full-scale invasion which was launched by Russian forces on February 24, 2022, rather than the invasion and subsequent Russian occupation of areas of eastern Ukraine and the Crimea in 2014. 2. David Kilcullen and Greg Mills, The Ledger: Accounting for Failure in Afghanistan (London: Hurst & Co., 2021), 222–24; Marc Lynch, The Arab Uprising: The Unfinished Revolutions of the New Middle East (New York: Public Affairs, 2012), 94. 3. Tobias Borck, Seeking Stability Amidst Disorder: The Foreign Policies of Saudi Arabia, the UAE and Qatar, 2010–20 (London: Hurst & Co., 2023), 193. 4. Huw Dylan and Thomas Maguire, ‘Secret Intelligence and Public Diplomacy in the Ukraine War’, Survival 64/4 (September 2022), 34. 5. John Raine, ‘Ukraine versus Gaza’, Survival, 66/1 (February/March 2024), 173–74. 6. Ben Hubbard, ‘Iranian Official Heads to Saudi Arabia as Israel Postpones U.S. Meeting’, New York Times, October 9, 2024. 7. Dania Thafer and David Des Roches, The Arms Trade, Military Services and the Security Market in the Gulf States: Trends and Implications (Berlin: Gerlach Press, 2016), 1–7. 8. Bilal Saab, ‘After Hub-and-Spoke: US Hegemony in a New Gulf Security Order’, Atlantic CouncilReport, 2016, 4 9. Tobias Borck, Seeking Stability Amidst Disorder: The Foreign Policies of Saudi Arabia, the UAE andQatar, 2010-20 (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2023), 18; Khalifa Al-Suwaidi, The UAE After theArab Spring: Strategy for Survival (London: I.B. Tauris, 2023), 120. 10. Kristian Coates Ulrichsen, Insecure Gulf: The End of Certainty and the Transition to the Post-Oil Era(London: Hurst & Co., 2011), 40. 11. Katherine Harvey, A Self-Fulfilling Prophecy: The Saudi Struggle for Iraq (London: Hurst & Co., 2021),144–45. 12. David Roberts, Security Politics in the Gulf Monarchies: Continuity amid Change (New York: ColumbiaUniversity Press, 2023), 158. 13. Fawaz Gerges, Obama and the Middle East: The End of America’s Moment? (New York: PalgraveMacmillan, 2012), 166–67. 14. William Burns, The Back Channel: American Diplomacy in a Disordered World (London: Hurst & Co.,2019), 361–62; Marc Lynch, The New Arab Wars: Uprisings and Anarchy in the Middle East (New York:Public Affairs, 2016), 226–28. 15. Thomas Juneau, ‘Iran’s Policy Towards the Houthis in Yemen: A Limited Return on a Modest In-vestment’, International Affairs 92/3 (May 2016), 658. 16. Jeffrey Goldberg, ‘The Obama Doctrine’, The Atlantic, March 10, 2016; Turki al-Faisal Al Saud, ‘Mr.Obama, We Are Not ‘Free Riders’, Arab News, March 14, 2016. 17. Mehran Kamrava, Troubled Waters: Insecurity in the Persian Gulf (Ithaca: Cornell University Press,2018), 71. 18. Kristian Coates Ulrichsen, Qatar and the Gulf Crisis (London: Hurst & Co., 2020), 77–78. 19. By contrast, the Trump administration did respond on two occasions when U.S. assets were targeted, firstin June 2019 after a U.S. drone was shot down over the Gulf and then in December 2019 after anAmerican contractor was killed in a missile strike on a base in Iraq. 20. Steve Holland and Rania El Gamal, ‘Trump Says He Does Not Want War After Attack on Saudi OilFacilities’, Reuters, September 16, 2019. 21. David Roberts, ‘For Decades, Gulf Leaders Counted on U.S. Protection. Here’s What Changed’,Washington Post, January 30, 2020. 22. Tamara Abueish, ‘Saudi Arabia’s Vice Defense Minister Discusses De-escalation with Esper’, AlArabiya English, January 7, 2020. 23. Anon., ‘Biden Raises Yemen, Human Rights in Call with Saudi King Salman’, Al Jazeera, February 25, 2021. 24. Emile Hokayem, ‘Fraught Relations: Saudi Ambitions and American Anger’, Survival 64/6 (November 2023), 9. 25. David Deudney and John Ikenberry, ‘Misplaced Restraint: The Quincy Coalition Versus Liberal Internationalism’, Survival, 63(4), 2021, 9; Alexander Hertel-Fernandez, Theda Skocpol, and Jason Sclar,‘When Political Mega-Donors Join Forces: How the Koch Network and the Democracy Alliance In-fluence Organized US Politics on the Right and Left’, Studies in American Political Development, 32(2),2018, 128. 26. Marika Theros, ‘Knowledge, Power and the Failure of US Peacemaking in Afghanistan 2018–21’,International Affairs, 99(3), 2023, 1249–50. 27. Trine Flockhart, ‘NATO in the Multi-Order World’, International Affairs 100/2 (March 2024), 473. 28. David Ottaway, ‘U.S. Calls for Help – Again – From the Tiny Arab Emirate of Qatar’, Wilson Center,February 2, 2022. 29. Li-Chen Sim, ‘The Gulf States: Beneficiaries of the Russia-Europe Energy War?’, Middle East Institute,January 12, 2023. 30. Marc Lynch, ‘Saudi Oil Cuts and American International Order’, Abu Aardvark’s MENA Academy(Substack), October 9, 2022. 31. Chris Alden, ‘The Global South and Russia’s Invasion of Ukraine’, LSE Public Policy Review, 3(1),2023, 2–4. 32. Hazar Kilani, ‘Qatar Investment Authority Holding Onto its Russian Assets for Now’, Doha News,March 2, 2022. 33. Kristian Coates Ulrichsen, ‘The GCC and the Russia-Ukraine Crisis’, Arab Center Washington, March 22, 2022. 34. Dion Nissenbaum, Stephen Kalin, and David Cloud, ‘Saudi, Emirati Leaders Decline Calls withPresident Biden during Ukraine Crisis’, Wall St Journal, March 8, 2022. 35. Natalia Savelyeva, ‘Understanding the Russian Exodus to Dubai Following the Ukraine Invasion’, TheRussia Program, George Washington University, May 8, 2024. 36. Anon., ‘Rosneft Elects Qatari Ex-Minister as New Chairman’, Energy Intelligence, July 5, 2023. 37. Mark Colchester, Summer Said, and Stephen Kalin, ‘Boris Johnson Visits U.A.E., Saudi Arabia, SeekingMore Oil’, Wall St Journal, March 16, 2022. 38. Alex Marquardt, Natasha Bertrand, and Phil Mattingly, ‘Inside the White House’s Failed Effort toDissuade OPEC from Cutting Oil Production to Avoid a “Total Disaster”’, CNN, October 5, 2022;Anders Hagstrom, ‘Saudis Say Biden Admin Requested Oil Production Cut to Come After Midterms’,Fox News, October 13, 2022. 39. Elham Fakhro, The Abraham Accords: The Gulf States, Israel, and the Limits of Normalization (NewYork: Columbia University Press, 2024), 220. 40. Stacie Goddard, ‘Legitimation and Hypocrisy in Gaza: Implications for the LIO’, in Marc Lynch (ed.),Debating American Primacy in the Middle East, POMEPS Studies 54, 2024, 47. 41. Mostafa Salem, ‘Saudi Crown Prince Accuses Israel of Committing “Collective Genocide” in Gaza’,CNN, November 13, 2024. 42. Peter Aitken, ‘Bret Baier Interviews Saudi Prince: Israel Peace, 9/11 Ties, Iran Nuke Fears’, Fox News,September 20, 2023. 43. Giorgio Cafiero, ‘Gaza War Undermines Oman’s Role as Bridge in a Conflict-Ridden Middle East’,Stimson Commentary, August 26, 2024. 44. Dania Thafer, ‘Palestinian Statehood Tops GCC Security Agenda as Diplomatic Struggles Persist’,Middle East Council on Global Affairs, October 7, 2024. 45. Kristian Coates Ulrichsen, ‘Saudi Plans to “De-Risk” Region Have Taken a Hit with Gaza Violence – butHitting Pause on Normalization with Israel Will Buy Kingdom Time’, The Conversation, October 18, 2023. 46. Anon., ‘Fact Sheet: Implementation of the U.S.-Gulf Cooperation Council Strategic Partnership’, TheWhite House, Office of the Press Secretary, April 21, 2016. 47. Kristian Coates Ulrichsen, ‘What Next for the Middle East Strategic Alliance?’, Arab Digest, October 29, 2020. 48. Barak Ravid, ‘Senior U.S. Delegation in Saudi Arabia for Talks with GCC’, Axios, February 15, 2023. 49. Anon., ‘US Leads Gulf Partners in 18-day Naval Exercise’, Gulf States Newsletter, 47/1166, March 23,2023, 11. 50. Anon., ‘China and Russia Join Iranian Exercise at Sea’, Gulf States Newsletter, 47/1166, March 23,2023, 10. 51. Melissa Horvath, ‘Is Red Sands the Future of Middle East Defence Cooperation?’, Middle East Institute,October 4, 2022. 52. Anon., ‘U.S. and Saudi Arabia Conduct Combined Counter-UAS Exercise’, U.S. Central Command press release, September 14, 2023. 53. Bilal Saab, ‘The Other Saudi Transformation’, Middle East Policy 29/2 (Summer 2022), 27–28. 54. Kristian Alexander and Giorgio Cafiero, ‘Biden’s Realpolitik Approach: Analyzing the C-SIPAAgreement with Bahrain’, Gulf International Forum, October 29, 2023. 55. William Roebuck, ‘Bahrain Sets the Pace for Enhanced Gulf Security Cooperation with the UnitedStates’, Arab Gulf States Institute in Washington, September 27, 2023; Anon., ‘The UK’s Accession to the Bahrain-US Security Agreement’, International Institute for Strategic Studies, Strategic Comment,February 2025. 56. Sanam Vakil and Neil Quilliam, ‘The Abraham Accords and Israel-UAE Normalization: Shaping a NewMiddle East’, Chatham House Research Paper, March 2023, 5. 57. UAE officials expressed their reservations about Netanyahu’s perceived attempts to leverage the normalization agreement in his 2021 campaign by downplaying suggestions of a visit by Netanyahu asPrime Minister to the UAE, and again after Netanyahu returned to office and announced that his first foreign visit would be to the UAE, choosing instead to receive other Israeli political leaders rather thanNetanyahu himself. 58. Vakil and Quilliam, ‘The Abraham Accords and Israel-UAE Normalization: Shaping a New MiddleEast’, (March 2023), 29. 59. Anon., ‘UAE, Israel Unveil Joint Naval Vessel as Military Ties Grow’, AFP, February 20, 2023. 60. Jean-Loup Samaan, ‘The Shift That Wasn’t: Misreading the UAE’s New “Zero-Problem” Policy’,Carnegie Endowment for International Peace, Sada blog, February 8, 2022. 61. Nickolay Mladenov, ‘Minilateralism: A Concept That is Changing the World Order’, The WashingtonInstitute for Near East Policy, April 14, 2023. 62. Husain Haqqani and Narayanappa Janardhan, ‘The Minilateral Era’, Foreign Policy, January 10, 2023. 63. Gordon Lubold and Warren Strobel, ‘Secret Chinese Port in Persian Gulf Rattles U.S. Relations withU.A.E.’, Wall Street Journal, November 19, 2021; Warren Strobel, ‘U.A.E. Shut Down China FacilityUnder U.S. Pressure, Emirates Says’, Wall Street Journal, December 9, 2021; John Hudson, EllenNakashima, and Liz Sly, ‘Buildup Resumed at Suspected Chinese Military Site in UAE, Leak Says’,Washington Post, April 26, 2023. 64. Sam Fleming, Henry Foy, Felicia Schwartz, James Politi, and Simeon Kerr, ‘West Presses UAE to ClampDown on Suspected Russia Sanctions Busting’, Financial Times, March 1, 2023. 65. Dion Nissenbaum, Dov Lieber, and Stephen Kalin, ‘Saudi Arabia Seeks Pledges, Nuclear Help for Peacewith Israel’, Wall Street Journal, March 9, 2023; Michael Crowley, Vivian Nereim, and Patrick Kingsley,‘Saudi Arabia Offers its Price to Normalize Relations with Israel’, New York Times, March 9, 2023. 66. Anon., ‘Great Expectations: The Future of Iranian-Saudi D´etente’, International Crisis Group, June13, 2024. 67. Amrita Jash, ‘Saudi-Iran Deal: A Test Case of China’s Role as an International Mediator’, GeorgetownJournal of International Affairs, June 23, 2023. 68. Badr bin Hamad Al Bu Said, ‘“Small States” Diplomacy in the Age of Globalization: An OmaniPerspective’, in Gerd Nonneman (ed.), Analyzing Middle East Foreign Policies and the Relationshipwith Europe (London: Routledge, 2005), 258. 69. Giorgio Cafiero, ‘Oman Keeps Trying to Dial Down Tensions in the Middle East’, Stimson Centre,February 2, 2024. 70. Samy Magdy, Adam Geller, and Aamer Madhani, ‘To Secure Gaza Ceasefire, Dealmakers OvercameEnemies’ Deep Distrust’, Associated Press, January 22, 2025. 71. Mirdef Alqashouti, ‘Qatar Mediation: From Soft Diplomacy to Foreign Policy’, in Mahjoob Zweiri andFarah Al Qawasmi (eds.), Contemporary Qatar: Examining State and Society (Singapore: Springer,2023), 73. 72. Diana Galeeva, ‘Saudi Arabia as a Global Mediator: From the Ukraine to Gaza War’, Menara Magazine,March 24, 2025. 73. Kristian Coates Ulrichsen, ‘Saudi-Israeli Normalization and the Hamas Attack’, Arab Center Wash-ington, October 11, 2023. 74. Ben Church, ‘F1 Organizers Insist Saudi Arabian Grand Prix Will Go Ahead Despite Houthi Attack onNearby Oil Facility’, CNN, March 26, 2022. 75. Ahdeya Ahmed Al-Sayed, ‘Better Late than Never: Bahrain’s Attitude Towards the Red Sea DefenseCoalition’, The Washington Institute, Fikra Forum, December 29, 2023. 76. Nikolay Kozhanov, ‘Why Gulf Arab States Are Not Intervening in the Red Sea’, Amwaj Media, February27, 2024.

Defense & Security
ISS052-E-37828 - View of Earth

Space in the international relations of Asia: a guide to technology, security, and diplomacy in a strategic domain

by Saadia M. Pekkanen

한국어로 읽기 Leer en español In Deutsch lesen Gap اقرأ بالعربية Lire en français Читать на русском ABSTRACT This essay brings space into the international relations of Asia. It orients readers to three unfolding trends that are shaping the evolution of the new space race at present – democratization, commercialization, and militarization (DCM). It surveys how these trends reflect, illuminate, or are connected to the theory and practice of international relations (IR) both in global and regional settings in Asia. Where possible, it brings in the space activities of the main independent and autonomous space powers in Asia – China, Japan, India, South Korea, North Korea – and probes what their activities signify for international and regional politics. It ends with some thematic takeaways for space policy, strategy, and diplomacy. Space is a strategic domain, meaning that its uses cut across civilian and military realities and will therefore long remain of vital interest to all states. Since its inception, space has drawn significant and long-standing attention in the fields of law and policy. Lawyers, legal scholars, diplomats, and policy analysts have covered the rise and interpretation of the space law regime in place today, which is centered on a set of space treaties, resolutions, and organized multilateral activities.Footnote1 Thanks to these efforts we have a good understanding of governance frameworks, the challenges they face, and how they may play out in constructing the peaceful uses of outer space. But studies that bring international relations (IR) theory and practice to bear on outer space affairs are far fewer in comparison to the voluminous law and policy literature. While IR scholars have generated works related to other emerging technologies, such as drones, cyberweapons, and artificial intelligence, space generally still remains understudied.Footnote2 This is surprising as the critical infrastructure of space anchors modern economies, militaries, and societies in a way no other technology does. It lies at the intersection of virtually all political, economic, and social forces that have been and will remain of concern to states. The space domain is not aloof from the “harsher realities of politics;”Footnote3 and, in fact, continues to reflect almost every feature of global politics in play – ideology, nationalism, aid, integration, division, and security, for example.Footnote4 Using the lens of states and their national interests, this symposium is among the first comprehensive efforts to combine IR perspectives, space studies, and the history, politics, and economics of Asia – a region with the most dynamic, ambitious, and competent sovereign space powers today. Alongside China, Japan, India, and North Korea, South Korea has risen rapidly as another determined player that is leveraging its industrial capabilities, alliances, and networks to position itself in the unfolding competition of the new space race. Australia and New Zealand, and other countries in South and Southeast Asia have also long been marked with emerging space activities and ambitions.Footnote5 These developments come at a time when both the United States and China are leading two different space regimes that extend beyond territorial matters to Low Earth Orbit (LEO) and celestial bodies.Footnote6 What states are doing in the IR of space, who with, why, and how affects prospects for war and peace. One indication of the importance of space nested in the contemporary geopolitical flux is reflected in The Camp David Joint Statement from August 2023, in which the U.S., South Korea, and Japan seek to enhance trilateral dialogues on space security.Footnote7 This essay guides readers to developments in the space domain, and the ways they connect to the theory and practice of IR. The first part interrogates the idea of the IR of space at the broadest level, and sets out the three principal trends that are shaping its evolution today – democratization, commercialization, and militarization (DCM). The second part then turns to asking where Asia fits in this tapestry, drawing on the intellectual lineage of key debates in the field as well as the findings from this symposium. The third part extracts some thematic takeaways that are likely to be of interest to makers of space policy, strategy, and diplomacy. What is the International Relations of Space? Space has always been – and will long remain – couched in IR theory that is centrally concerned with alternative explanations about competition and cooperation.Footnote8 The paradigmatic or theoretical approach analysts bring to space – such as realism, liberalism, constructivism, and so on – has consequences for relations among and within states.Footnote9 Political scientists are increasingly interested in the theory and practice of the IR of space, and in understanding the implications for real-world collaboration, competition, leadership, and diplomacy.Footnote10 This section provides a guide to the principal actors and the trends of the new space race in which they seek to position. The State in the International Relations of Space For the foreseeable future, outer space affairs will remain rooted in the geopolitics on Earth, and this will necessitate a focus on the makers of policy, strategy, and diplomacy. Nothing about this is new. Space could not escape the “political rivalries of this world” in the old space race; and the idea that U.S. leaders may well have had no option from the late 1950s onwards but to “allow for all possibilities by speaking of idealism and acting with realism” speaks with equal force to the complexities of decision-making in the present space race.Footnote11 The IR of space is about actors, their motivations, and the consequences of their actions for stability in, through, and at the nexus of space. This general framing of the IR of space draws attention away from unproductive and narrow theoretical debates, encourages analytical eclecticism, and privileges a pragmatic, policy-relevant, and problem-focused approach.Footnote12 Further, the approach locates actions and agency in known circumstances, remains deeply attentive to both material and ideational processes over time, is mindful of situational idiosyncrasies, and in sync with the inevitable ups and downs of geopolitics. Frankly, this kind of eclectic pragmatism is necessary in a dynamic domain in which scholars and practitioners want to grapple with visible challenges that need real-world solutions. As in other areas, a focus on states allows us to capture the “deeper political foundations, trajectory, centrality, and implications”Footnote13 of newer developments that can be consequential for the theory and practice of IR. Even when theoreticians are supportive of, opposed to, or merely agnostic about states as a unit of analysis, almost all of them have to grapple with interactive state actions at both the domestic and international levels.Footnote14 The idea of space policy analysis, which draws attention to sub-state actors and drivers of decision-making while crisscrossing levels of analysis, certainly enriches our understanding of major players beyond the West.Footnote15 But in many emerging space countries, and especially in the IR of Asia, the state remains the gatekeeper to the domestic-international nexus. Focusing on states also induces an equality in the IR of space, as many developing and emerging countries do not have the numerous legal, commercial, and nonprofit actors from the advanced industrial world who seek to influence outcomes across international forums and processes. This state-centricism is especially relevant in the strategic space domain − 95% of which comprises dual-use space technologies.Footnote16 In it, states are proactively seeking to position their countries vis-à-vis others because its very duality promises both civilian and military benefits. This reality is reinforced by the present legal space regime, which privileges the role of states as a matter of public international law. As on Earth so also for space, it is ultimately states that back and consume innovative space technologies, design strategies and policies, and construct or scuttle governance in line with their political and economic interests.Footnote17 None of this is to suggest that states are the only actors in the space domain, or that their preferences magically prevail in all matters of policy, strategy, or diplomacy. Rather, at the end of the day, it is states that possess both the ultimate and final authority over their citizens, thus regulating how this collective interacts with its counterparts.Footnote18 The Key Trends Shaping the IR of Space The new space race demands as well a new way of seeing the whole picture, which balances its principal trends without privileging any one of them. All states are presently navigating the intersections of three deeply intertwined trends in the new space race that pose novel questions and challenges for their own security – democratization, commercialization, and the slide from militarization to outright weaponization (DCM).Footnote19 While these trends may be analytically distinct, they are in reality fluid, nonlinear, and synergistic. They are interwoven into the fabric of the IR of space today, and if a problem-focused approach is to lend itself to real-world solutions it is meaningless to talk about strategy or policy concerning one or another in isolation. This has implications for IR theory more generally. A plethora of well-debated approaches, concepts, and constructs mark its two main subfields of international security and international political economy across all regions of the world – war, peace, balance of power, industrial policy, interdependence, governance, norms, diplomacy, for example. These theoretical constructs have to reconcile with the complexities of DCM. Doing so prevents hyperbole about a “knowable and certain future” for organizations, societies, and soldiers with stakes in space.Footnote20 It encourages vigilance about the commercialization-militarization axis fueling gray-zone ventures in space, where a commercial space actor operating for a rival could do what previously was the realm of only government military operations.Footnote21 It prevents naïve thinking that space commerce is unrelated to defense, or that private assets cannot become legitimate military targets in the fog of war.Footnote22 When it comes time to pass United Nations resolutions backed by a leading space power that can govern prospects for space safety how old and new actors in space align diplomatically on a normative basis is affected by their industrial and political interests in the context of DCM.Footnote23 The high-profile return of industrial policy in the U.S. stretches to the space industrial base, and includes efforts to strengthen the resilience of its supply chains with commercial space players and nongovernmental actors.Footnote24 As an analytical rubric, the trends in the DCM triumvirate, fleshed out below, help states see the many moving and equally important parts of the new space race, connect actions and technologies involving their counterparts spread around the world, and build a far more balanced awareness of the policies and strategies necessary to advance their own interests amid all the dynamism. The triumvirate, in short, is a powerful conceptual reminder for all states that “the church of strategy must be a broad one” in the space domain.Footnote25 One trend of the triumvirate stems from changes in manufacturing and accessibility, which have opened up — or “democratized” — the space domain to newcomers. Many of the newer state entrants have created space agencies, written national space legislation, targeted specific manufacturing or regulatory niches, and signed agreements with international partners and private companies. Alongside the rising number of nation-states, this democratization draw in nongovernmental entrants such as commercial startups, activist billionaires, criminal syndicates, and so on who could aid or thwart government objectives.Footnote26 New actors continue to proliferate across all regions and continents, with activities that crisscross the public and private spheres and that affect prospects for transnational collaboration in myriad ways. The year 2023 is illustrative of democratization in practice. In mid August, the SpaceX Crew Dragon spacecraft reached the International Space Station (ISS).Footnote27 This was the seventh crew rotation mission by SpaceX, a private U.S. company, and it carried four civilian agency astronauts from America, Europe, Russia, and Japan. In its previous mission to the ISS, SpaceX flew NASA astronauts, along with those from Russia and the United Arab Emirates. Earlier in May, SpaceX used its Dragon spacecraft and Falcon 9 rocket to launch an all-private astronaut mission to the ISS for a company called Axiom Space, which aims to build the world’s first commercial space station; it then carried passengers from the United States as well as both a male and female astronaut from the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia.Footnote28 Democratization extends to the moon. With India’s successful soft-landing on the moon in August, yet another Asian country after China now holds the distinction of being on the lunar surface.Footnote29 Private actors in Asia are also part of the tapestry. While a lunar lander attempt by a private Japanese company, ispace, was not successful in April, the company is persevering with bringing both governments and private payloads to the moon.Footnote30 More foundational for the purposes of enabling certainty for commercial transactions are some of the steps ispace took prior to the launch. It was granted a license by the Japanese government to engage in an “in-place” property transfer of ownership of lunar regolith to NASA. All these developments represent a dramatically varied landscape, which also raises challenges for building meaningful consensus in the years ahead.Footnote31 A second trend in the triumvirate is commercialization, driven by a whole new generation of space entrepreneurs. Chief among their unprecedented innovations are reusable rocketry and mega-constellations of satellites, driven by so-called newspace corporations such as SpaceX, Blue Origin, Rocket Lab, Amazon, Planet, ICEYE, Blacksky, Axelspace, and Synspective. Together these companies have not only changed prospects for frequent and cheaper access to space, but they have also changed the geospatial view of virtually all human activities on the planet, whether on land or the oceans.Footnote32 These newer entrants present competition for more established players like Boeing, Arianespace, Lockheed Martin, Raytheon, Mitsubishi Heavy Industries, Mitsui, and Thales Alenia, for example. All these corporations seek profitable niches in the global space economy, which one estimate puts at a minimum of $384 billion in 2022 and others put higher.Footnote33 Notably, the present satellite industry accounts for over 70% of the space economy. This indicates a “space-for-earth” economy, meaning space goods and services with direct use on Earth such as telecommunications and internet infrastructure, Earth observation satellites, military satellites, and so on.Footnote34 This reality accounted for 95% of the revenues earned in the space sector in 2019. Given the dependence of the global economy on space-based assets, some argue the commercial peace thesis may stay the hand of space-related conflict.Footnote35 This is good news also if the space market grows, as projected, to between $1.1 trillion and $2.7 trillion by the 2040s.Footnote36 But there is a healthy debate about what else may be scalable beyond just the satellite-enabled communications infrastructure that sustains the space economy at present. Further, despite all the rosy projections about the space economy, there is little information about which of the venture-backed private newspace entrants is or likely to be profitable anytime soon. After over two decades of operation, it is only recently that SpaceX, which leads with its rocket launches and internet-satellite business, has reported it generated $55 million in profits on $1.5 billion in revenue in the first quarter of 2023.Footnote37 In the non-satellite segment of the space economy, the search for new markets and customers certainty continues worldwide. But government budgets will matter to the survivability of many innovative technologies, products, and services where market prospects are nascent, emerging, or just plain uncertain. These include, for example, commercial human spaceflight, space stations, lunar landers and habitats, and space resources mining. The total governmental budgets for space programs worldwide is estimated to be between $92.4 billion to $107 billion.Footnote38 The U.S. government leads the world with the largest institutional budget at around $55 billion; setting aside the collective European budget at $14 billion, the single-country budgets that successively follow the U.S. are China (speculatively, $10 billion), Japan (over $4 billion), Russia ($3.5 billion), and India ($1.96 billion). More generally, the presence of government actors alerts us to a range of theoretical political economy considerations that cut across geopolitics and geoeconomics in the space domainFootnote39: the logic of state-centricism in and out of Asia in fostering innovation, the multifaceted drivers of space commercialization and privatization around the world, and the newspace business hype that needs to be reconciled with the dynamics of state interests in economic-security linkages. A final trend in the DCM triumvirate is militarization sliding into weaponization of a dual-use technology. But we may be returning to the historical roots of space technology because what we now think of as dual-use originated as military first.Footnote40 From rockets to satellites to missile defense, civilian and commercial space technologies can be morphed to serve military or national security ends. A state’s military space power can be measured not just by total space expenditures but also latent capabilities in existing commercial architecture.Footnote41 Many actors can access, or collaboratively develop, a wide spectrum of military capabilities while professing to pursue worthy civilian and commercial goals, such as launching rockets, enabling satellite communication, expanding Earth observation, developing GPS capabilities, or servicing malfunctioning satellites. These activities can be legitimized as peaceful and defensive, but their uses can also be converted to offensive purposes. As more actors join space activities and as commercial players spread space products and technologies around the world, the ambiguities of dual-use space technologies make it more and more difficult to distinguish a space asset from a weapon, or space control operations as defensive or offensive. This melding of the commercialization-militarization axis means that many advanced, emerging, and disruptive technologies that are significant for defense applications and for potentially gaining an edge over rivals are couched in commercial rather than military-industrial complexes; these technologies and capabilities are also spread unevenly across geopolitical lines.Footnote42 Depending on their financial and organizational capacities to adopt innovations, states may well face risky scenarios in an international system out of tune with power realities in which the actual balance of power diverges sharply from the distribution of benefits.Footnote43 Further, the problem is that all space assets are equally vulnerable to a range of both kinetic and non-kinetic threats, which can go from an irreversible missile hit to temporarily disabling electronic and cyber attacks on a space asset.Footnote44 Since it is hard to separate military and civilian space services, accidental or purposeful actions against those used by the military would inevitably also affect those used by civilian and commercial stakeholders. Protecting access to space and safeguarding operations within space are, therefore, a vital interest for all states interested in space for national advancement. Unfortunately, no orbit is safe or secure. This is especially concerning for the United States, which is the world’s most space-dependent power, and whose nuclear command-and-control operations worldwide rely on space assets. As of January 2023, roughly 67% of all operating satellites belonged to the U.S., with a significant part of them commercial.Footnote45 This dependence will only grow as U.S.-led mega constellations, as well as other in-space activities, proliferate. Accidents can happen, and this specter is rising as orbits become more and more crowded with civil, commercial, and military activities.Footnote46 Orbital debris, big and tiny leftovers from decades of space activities that whiz around at lethal speeds, already represent known hazards. The ISS often has to maneuver to get out of the way, and functioning satellites are also vulnerable. Satellites can collide accidentally, degrading or ending their operations; human beings can die. But it is the menace of purposeful and deliberate targeting of the space-enabled infrastructure that cannot be ruled out in the geopolitical turmoil today. There is an intensifying strategic competition between the U.S. and its allies, China, and Russia over the making of a new world order.Footnote47 This means also that there are ample incentives for U.S. adversaries to deny the heavily space-dependent United States use of its space assets in peacetime or wartime under cover of dual-use ambiguities; there are also incentives for the U.S. and its allies to do the reverse to adversaries.Footnote48 In all likelihood, every country would suffer under such scenarios, but the heavily space-dependent U.S. would suffer most. Kinetic anti-satellite (ASAT) tests have already been carried out by some of the top spacefaring powers – China (2007), the U.S. (2008), India (2019), and Russia (2021) – and have led to a U.S. declaration to ban them.Footnote49 In the non-kinetic realm, cyber attacks are a looming realistic threat for satellites and other space assets just as they for any another digitized critical infrastructure.Footnote50 Many key U.S. allies, such as Japan and Korea as well as members of NATO, see the same threats and, with extended deterrence in mind, have begun working closely with the U.S. to reshape security architectures and postures in the space domain. The war in Ukraine has also changed perceptions worldwide about the safety of the critical infrastructure of space, with Russia’s electronic and cyberattacks targeting satellite systems.Footnote51 Both the U.S. and its allies also understand that targeting U.S. space assets affects the great power status of the U.S. – the basis for its hard and soft power – which is why space will long remain a national and international imperative. Space is also pivotal because it is at the intersection of virtually all emerging and disruptive technology frontiers, such as AI, quantum computing, and cyber weapons, which can potentially affect a country’s military edge over others.Footnote52 One indication of the importance of U.S. space systems to the government for critical national and homeland security functions is reflected in institutional budgets. Worldwide, in 2021, an estimate is that civilian budgets were around $54 billion and military budgets at about $38 billion.Footnote53 The United States stands out relative to the rest of the world, irrespective of the actual size of these budgets, accounting for just under 60% of all government expenditures on space program on a global basis. The U.S. military space budget is estimated to be between roughly $30–34 billion dollars, significantly higher than its civilian budget at around $25–26 billion. With the formation of the U.S. Space Force, and the perceived growing threat to space, these patterns are unlikely to shift and will affect the evolution of U.S.-led space security architectures worldwide. Beyond orbital regimes, there are also concerns about celestial bodies, which include the moon, Mars, comets, and asteroids. The moon has become a prestigious prize. There is a race to put the next humans and outposts on it. While every state wants to be a space nation and to benefit from space-enabled prosperity and security all the way to the moon the simple point is that not all of them can be in the elite club of states who have the will and capabilities to do just that.Footnote54 Collaboration too is likely to remain divisive in the new lunar space race, whether intentional or not.Footnote55 54 countries have already signed the Artemis Accords led by the U.S. since 2020, which contain principles outlining civil exploration in space that are heralded for their openness, transparency, and predictability for all stakeholders.Footnote56 Meanwhile, China has entered into an MOU with Russia to establish an international lunar research station, with multiple scientific and exploration objectives, that is likely to be constructed on the south pole of the moon.Footnote57 The south pole on the moon is where both China and the U.S. have marked out potential landing sites as their new competing lunar programs get underway.Footnote58 It is also the region in which India, a signatory of the Artemis Accords, was instrumental in confirming the presence of water and where it has also soft-landed before anyone else.Footnote59 While no IR analyst can easily predict how the strategic culture of any state will affect its behavior in the context of space resources or space habitats it is foreseeable that such developments are significant for advancing national and relative power.Footnote60 The defense-industrial complex in the United States is paying attention to what all this will mean for the balance of power in space. The LunA-10 framework represents the next-generation quest for an integrated 10-year lunar architecture that could catalyze a commercial space economy with the U.S. in the lead.Footnote61 How competition and collaboration play out depends on how states choose to reconcile the trends of the DCM triumvirate with their own interests as they, and their counterparts, all set their sights on the moon. As technologies are always uncertain and the landscape of allies and rivals can shift, diplomacy for space security may be more necessary than ever as these lunar armadas set off.Footnote62 How Does Space Fit in the International Relations of Asia? The new space race is not going into some vacuum in the study and practice of the IR of Asia. Nor are the regional space politics divorced from the DCM trends that are reshaping prospects for all actors across all continents. There is history and intellectual precedent in how we can expect Asian states to engage with DCM trends, signifying also prospects for conflict and collaboration both in and out of the region. It is especially important to get this narrative right at a time when Asia can boast the greatest concentration of independent and autonomous space powers relative to every other region on the planet, making it pivotal for the future of space security. These are, to date, also the principal powers who have been central to shaping the dynamics of the IR of Asia in the world – China, Japan, India, North Korea, and South Korea. Caveats and Preexisting Works A few things first. This is not the place to get into polemics about what Asia is, a contested term that is perhaps most useful for differentiating it from the equally murky idea of the “West.”Footnote63 For the purposes of this essay the most useful broad category is the one from the United Nations which categorizes Member States into the regional group of the “Asia-Pacific.”Footnote64 This includes countries from Northeast, Southeast, South, Central, and Southwest Asia as well as those from the Pacific islands. This keeps us attuned to not just to the activities of the independent and autonomous space powers, but also others in the broader Asia-Pacific, such as Australia, New Zealand, and others in Southeast, Central, South, and West Asia, who are also making strides and positioning in the DCM triumvirate. This broad sweep is likely to be most useful for understanding the entanglements of the space domain in the years ahead. There is of course a substantial body of knowledge on the IR of Asia. This is also not the place to do justice to the painstaking works that have, over decades, improved our solid understanding of key aspects of the IR of Asia and allowed us to portray region-wide, sub-regional, and extra-regional interactions. A few broad works can only help us extract and reflect on the broad nature of the subject-matter involved in the making of IR of Asia to date, which continues to resonate in debates about whether or not Asia’s geography is “ripe for rivalry.”Footnote65 In very broad brushstrokes the subject-matter includesFootnote66: historical, political, and social forces that have shaped the region over time; the relevance or irrelevance of mainstream Western IR theories; the making and makeup of foreign economic or security policies; the drivers of integration or rivalries amid structural global shifts, the organizational and institutional patterns of governance, for example. More closely mirroring the IR concepts and constructs noted earlier, there are also in the IR of Asia prominent cross-cutting ideas, such as the role of states and industrial policy, economic-security linkages, technonationalism, economic regionalism and interdependence, regional organizations and institutions, balancing, bandwagoning, hedging, alliances and security architectures, and so on. But as in IR more generally, so also regionally there appears to be less of a focus on integrating space technologies into the broader fabric of changed global and regional politics. In terms of work on specific technologies in Asia, there has certainly been longstanding attention on conventional military capabilities, nuclear acquisitions, and ballistic missile defense, all of which can exacerbate security dilemmas. But there is less so on space in particular, though a number of works have contributed to our general understanding of individual space powers in Asia.Footnote67 The findings from this symposium, interwoven with IR themes below, also contributes to advancing these knowledge frontiers with implications for national interests, regional risks, and interstate stability. A cogent case for a space race in Asia back in 2012 did not prejudge any particular outcome for space security. Footnote68 In the broad sweep of space activities across Northeast, Southeast, and South Asian countries, one conclusion at the time was that Asia’s emerging space powers were keenly attuned to keeping score, following relative gains, and marking nationalist advantages vis-à-vis regional rivals. Footnote69 From the benchmark of that study, the question is what has changed in terms of Asian states and their motivations in a world returned to great power competition. Su-Mi Lee raises these questions at the start of this symposium focusing on the case of South Korea: Will South Korea and other Asian states take sides between great powers building competing blocs in the region? Or as a middle power, will South Korea recast itself as an agenda setter, rather than a passive follower, and expand its own network in space development, independently of great powers, and contribute to the peaceful uses of outer space? Jongseok Woo offers up a view on the impact of the ongoing Sino-U.S. rivalry in the Asia-Pacific region specifically on South Korea’s strategic choices in security and military affairs, as well as its space policies. There is a close connection between South Korea’s space policies and its broader economic, security, and military interests. He asserts that South Korea’s choice to align with the United States and China on trilateral cooperation in space development has arisen directly as a response to China’s assertive and aggressive policies in the Asia-Pacific region, which have also fostered negative perceptions about China among South Koreans. Material and Ideational Building Blocks There are also material and ideational building blocks that clue us into the ways space can be brought into the IR of Asia. They can guide work at a theoretical level, illuminate intersections with the politics and trends of the DCM worldwide, lead to distinctive expectations about collaboration and stability, and help us reflect on likely pathways for policy, strategy, and diplomacy in the new space race. There are three thematic clusters fleshed out below that might prove to be fruitful for these aims: (1) the state and industrial policy, intertwined with thinking on technology, economic-security linkages, and geoeconomics, (2) complex regional interdependence including economic integration, supply chains, and institutional governance, and (3) security architectures and alliances amid the changed geopolitical dynamics of the U.S.–China bipolar competition. All these clusters suggest that divorcing military and economic security for states in the region would be an analytical and policy blunder in the new space race. The Evolution of the State and Industrial Policy First, whatever the debates about its nature,Footnote70 the state in the IR of Asia is alive and well. Relative to other actors, it is unlikely to be displaced as the preeminent sovereign entity, particularly in matters of industrial and technological transformations. It has a distinguished pedigree in the region, finding its conceptual role at the center of huge theoretical and policy controversies about states and economic development.Footnote71 At one point, eight economies – Hong Kong, Indonesia, Japan, the Republic of Korea, Malaysia, Singapore, Taiwan, and Thailand – rose prominently in the international economy, a phenomenon that became known as the “East Asian miracle.”Footnote72 At the heart of the controversy was the role played by states, and whether their interventions in the market made the difference to their economic and industrial transformations. The domestic institutional configurations of the so-called newly industrializing countries (NICs) also drew attention to the reasons why states could manage to undertake industrial policies in the ways they did.Footnote73 All this came at a time of new thinking about the merits of free trade, in which activist trade policies were shown to possibly advantage some countries relative to their competitors especially in high-technology industries.Footnote74 As today, so then, high-technology industries, such as semiconductors, were at the epicenter of controversies about the fairness of then perceived Japanese activism.Footnote75 Asia is again center stage in these policy concerns, such as those about the foundational global value chain in semiconductors that fuel high-technology production and consumption. Between 2016 and 2020, 26 economies in Asia and the Pacific accounted for about 84% of total world integrated circuit exports.Footnote76 They also accounted for about 62% of total world electrical and optical equipment exports in 2021. Long mindful of their positions in the global political economy, all this suggests that for states of all stripes across Asia “developmentalism is not dead,” picking winners is still of interest, and, as in the past for other strategic sectors so also for the foreseeable future, Asian states will remain involved in shaping the frontiers of space technologies to their home advantage.Footnote77 Industrial policy motivations have clearly been a driver of South Korea’s expanding space program, and Kristi Govella points out the South Korean government has considered potential commercial opportunities when making decisions about how to structure its engagement with regional space institutions. The maxim of “rich country, strong army” pervades the intellectual landscape of prominent works, alerting us that for many countries in Asia the synergistic pathway to security comes through technology and the economy. These symbiotic economic-security fundamentals resonate in both regional and country-specific works.Footnote78 Japanese planners, for example, have long enhanced Japan’s technological edge by stimulating the interdiffusion of civil-military applications and the nurturance of a military-commercial axis.Footnote79 While not inattentive to the policy tradeoffs that must be made in practice, the Japanese state remains consistent in the twin goals maximizing both its military and its bargaining power through economic means.Footnote80 China is held up as a techno-security state – innovation-centered, security-maximizing – at a historic moment of bipolarity in world politics in which both China and the U.S. see the economic-security nexus as a pivotal peacetime battleground.Footnote81 These themes resonate also in the idea of geoeconomics – best thought of as “the logic of war in the grammar of commerce” – that would hold in a world of territorial states seeking technological innovation not just for its own sake but to explicitly maximize benefits within their own boundaries.Footnote82 With themes that echo seminal works on economic-security linkages,Footnote83 the practice of geoeconomics means the use of economic instruments in defense of national interests and geopolitical gain while being watchful of the impact on the home country of others doing exactly the same.”Footnote84 Whether geoeconomics is criticized or refined as an idea,Footnote85 is considered relevant or irrelevant to state conduct, or even goes in and out of fashion, its core continues to resonate in lively debates about the nature of statecraft in the IR of Asia.Footnote86 The case of space in South Korea is instructive along these themes. Given that the economics of the space industry require a long-term commitment with massive investments, Wonjae Hwang’s principal argument is in line with the idea of the developmental state. The South Korean government is taking a lead role in developing the space industry, and its core geoeconomic strategy in space manifests in the promotion of public–private partnerships. By building a strong governing structure within the public sector, coordinating with selective private partners, assisting them with financial support and technology transfer, the government has built strong partnerships with private firms in the space industry. There are plans to establish also a guiding public institution, which can make far-sighted plans for space development, implement the plans, and control associated institutions. As a latecomer to the space race but as a critical player in the global supply chains in the space industry, he also discusses how South Korea has promoted international partnerships with other space powers such as the U.S., EU, India, Australia, and the UAE. Complex Regional Interdependence Second, Asian economies and their integration into the international system makes them pivotal players. But indicators suggest that regional economic integration is important too.Footnote87 A regional cooperation and integration index, which tracks and meshes key dimensions across all principal regions of the world is noteworthy.Footnote88 In 2020, the index in which higher values mean greater regional integration, the EU was recorded at 0.59, North America at 0.49, and Asia and the Pacific at 0.43. This puts the Asian region on par with its peers in the global political economy. As concerns about supply chain vulnerabilities rise worldwide, less visible forces behind Asian economic fusion will also rise to shape strategies. In 2014, production networks were acknowledged as outlets for new modes of interstate friction such as between Japan and China but were still seen as reinforcing traditional commercial liberal arguments.Footnote89 Over time, despite the dramatic expansion of global supply chains involving all actors in the region over, the phenomenon remained underappreciated. But work on point finds that they may be more distinct, complex, and unique mechanisms of interdependence, and could well affect prospects for interstate conflict and cooperation in and out of the region.Footnote90 Their very presence complicates blustering proclamations of decoupling or derisking in both regional and global politics. States across Asia remain watchful about trade and investment agreements to enhance their regional and international economic prospects.Footnote91 Whatever the criticisms about this institutional proliferation, it draws attention to Asian standing and strategies relative to other regions. Among the most high-profile developments is the Regional Comprehensive Economic Partnership (RCEP), with 15 members including 10 ASEAN countries as well as Australia, China, Japan, New Zealand, and South Korea.Footnote92 China and Japan, respectively, account for around 48% and 19% of the RCEP GDP.Footnote93 RCEP’s comparative indicators put it ahead of its peer agreements, with 28% of global trade, 31% of the share of global GDP, and about 30% of world populationFootnote94 The agreement’s economic significance was deemed considerable, with one estimate suggesting it could generate over $200 billion annually to world income, and $500 billion to world trade by 2030.Footnote95 The duality of space technology also creates new dynamics for the IR of space in Asia. Even agreements that are technically about trade can be seen as opportunities to enhance alliances and alter the broader security context.Footnote96 This thinking should be borne firmly in mind in analyses of regional space governance, which is nested in broader international legal and normative frameworks. The degree of institutional density in an issue area, such as preexisting rules or regimes on point, may condition the type of diplomacy countries like China pursue in projects from space stations to lunar research stations.Footnote97 It also affects how countries like Japan can use institutional constructs for political reassurance in the region.Footnote98 At present, two markedly different Asian institutions, the China-led Asia Pacific Regional Space Organization (APSCO) and the Japan-led Asia-Pacific Regional Space Agency Forum (APRSAF) mark diplomatic prospects for the regional dynamics of collaboration and competition stretched over decades.Footnote99 Asia also leads other regions with two other space-centered institutions, the India-led Centre for Space Science Technology and Education in the Asia-Pacific (CSSTEAP) and the China-led Regional Centre for Space Science Technology and Education in the Asia-Pacific. Kristi Govella argues that these institutions have been shaped by broader geopolitical dynamics in the region, and that rising space players like South Korea carefully choose how to engage with these regional institutions on the basis of economic, security, and institutional factors. She further claims that diplomatic engagement with regional space institutions can complement states’ security alliances and bolster relationships with other like-minded strategic partners. Future patterns of regional cooperation will also continue to shape and be shaped by nonhierarchical international regime complexity in the space domain.Footnote100 Current trajectories suggest scenarios in which states’ à la carte approaches affect the integrity of existing cooperative multilateral space law and processes. Security Dynamics and Alliances Third, there is evidence for longstanding expectations that Asia’s economic rise would lead to increased military capacities and modernizationFootnote101 The grouping of Asia and Oceania stands out in this respect.Footnote102 In 2022, it accounted for about $575 billion in military spending, with China, Japan, and South Korea making up 70% of that. This figure is second only to North America with over $900 billion of military spending, the bulk of which is by the United States. Estimates between 2018 and 2022 also suggest that Asia and Oceania accounted for 41% of the total global volume of major arms, the largest compared to other regions; and, with 11% of the total, India is the largest arms importer of all countries. All this should be set against the politics of a region with the busiest sea lanes, nine of the ten largest ports, seven of the world’s largest standing militaries, and five of the world’s declared nuclear nations.Footnote103 The region is also marked by an intensifying bilateral security competition between the U.S. and China that increases the risk of inadvertent escalation of hostilities, entangling conventional, nuclear, and space capabilities.Footnote104 The U.S. has stated outright that it will consider the use of nuclear weapons in the event of any kind of a “significant” nonnuclear strategic attack on its or its allies’ nuclear forces as well as “their command and control, or warning and attack assessment capabilities” whose nodes run in and through space.Footnote105 In believing that the U.S. seeks to lower the threshold for nuclear use and so degrade its conventional strength China is responding by expanding and modernizing both its conventional and nuclear capabilities.Footnote106 A new arms race may well be underway, enmeshing old and new warfighting domains like space and affecting prospects for arms control and strategic stability. Amid these shifting military postures and perceptions, security architectures matter and have received significant attention for their origins, shapes, consequences, and transformations in the IR of Asia.Footnote107 If, prior to the 1990s, Asia was “infertile ground” for security institutions today it seems the opposite is true; new security institutions such as QUAD have come to stand alongside old ones like the ASEAN Regional Forum.Footnote108 The United States is prominent in the region for its creation of a network of bilateral alliances seen not just as instruments of containment against rivals but also as instruments of control over allies.Footnote109 As the view of space as a warfighting domain embeds itself in regional security architectures formal U.S. allies such as Japan and South Korea in the region are coalescing, connecting and responding in distinct ways.Footnote110 As well, they are motivated by other security threats and dynamics – territorial disputes and politics, North Korean missile threats and its other purported scientific missions into space – that have sobered prospects for stability in regional and global politics. Asia is leading the world in how some of these space-centric alliance transformations are coming about, and how they may affect military operations such as communication and intelligence gathering. In practice, the U.S.-led military alliances also serve as contracts in which, while one component is certainly a military commitment, there is also agreement about a continuous (and changing) exchange of space goods and services.Footnote111 The U.S.- Japan Alliance, with its attendant geoeconomic and geopolitical elements in play, is the first bilateral one in Asia to extend to the space domain.Footnote112 Although its legal foundations need far greater clarity in light of existing international space law and policy, as well as shifting nuclear postures, this extension is nevertheless becoming more concrete with the formation of a new subordinate command in Japan for the U.S. Space Force.Footnote113 But these pronounced changes on the military side sit alongside others; the Japanese state is also continuing to bargain to enmesh its civilian and commercial space interests under the umbrella of the alliance, such as those related to GPS or astronauts on the moon. A similar story is unfolding under the U.S.-Korea Alliance. As Scott Snyder notes in this symposium, the combination of South Korea’s entry into the space launch and satellite sectors and the emergence of the Sino-U.S. geostrategic competition have made it possible for both countries to pursue bilateral cooperation within the alliance. Space cooperation within the alliance brings South Korea on board to support U.S.-led development of international norms for use of space and strengthens the U.S. space-based military infrastructure to protect South Korea from adversary threats while also assisting South Korea’s long-term aspirations to gain a part of the commercial space sector. There are also implications for the hub-and-spoke model of U.S. alliances in Asia. It may not have originally encouraged trust and interactions between quasi-allies such as Japan and South Korea that are not directly allied but share the United States (hub) as a common ally. But this model may be transforming in the space domain. Tongfi Kim explains that South Korea–Japan relations, traditionally the weakest link in U.S.–Japan–South Korea trilateral cooperation, have made remarkable progress since the inauguration of South Korean President Yoon Suk Yeol in May 2022. Due to the three states’ increasing focus on space security and geopolitical development in East Asia, Kim argues, space cooperation is one of the most promising paths for institutionalizing the trilateral cooperation. What are the Thematic Takeaways? Asian states are not just passive recipients in the new space race but proactive and high-profile shapers of the DCM trends in it. They represent the new forces of democratization, which opens up diplomatic opportunities for new alignments in pursuit of material and normative quests. They know the unprecedented trends in space commercialization can boost their industrial base and position them for economic prosperity in the new frontier. They are attuned to how space militarization can give them a military edge and, carried to its extreme, how weaponization can dash prospects for strategic stability around and above us. A few takeaways stand out. The Gravity of the International Relations of Space Has Shifted to Asia Asia leads all other regions of the world with the highest concentration of independent and autonomous sovereign states – China, Japan, India, South Korea, North Korea – who possess some of the most advanced capabilities for civilian, commercial, and military space. They do not act in unison but are guided by their own national imperatives. Along with Australia and New Zealand, they are also joined by a wide variety of states in Southeast, South, and West Asia who aim for niche capabilities or capitalize on geographic locations. The State in Asia Will Be the Prime Decision-Maker in Shaping Space Activities Consistent with the state-centric nature of the IR of Asia, both the top and emerging spacefaring powers in Asia will seek to shape and balance the DCM trends in line with their own economic and political interests. They will not be dictated to, but can be persuaded through bargaining and communication. Many will try to take advantage of commercial trends abroad while reinforcing them at home, some will try to strike a balance in the commercialization-militarization axis, but a few will attempt to shift it toward offensive purposes. Dual-Use Space Technology is Another Means to Wealth and Security for Asian States All Asian states are interested in acquiring space technology, whether through direct or indirect means, to advance their prosperity and security. This is consistent with a historic intellectual lineage in the region about staying abreast of strategic high-technology sectors that crisscross civilian and military benefits, and that promise to pull other sectors along. The intersection of the space domain with emerging and disruptive technology frontiers – AI, quantum, cyber – is also of vital interest to all principal regional actors. New Patterns of Interconnectedness May Stay the Hand of Space Conflict Space nationalism drives the principal spacefaring states to compete with others in and out of the region. But continued economic integration – trade and investment flows, resilient supply chains, and space assets that facilitate them – also underpin prospects for continued engagement among all regional players. Its disruption is of concern to regional states, as in the U.S. bid to secure critical supply chains for semiconductors worldwide. As well, regional institutions that formally and informally govern relations, including those focused on space, routinize engagements, and information exchanges among all states. U.S.-Led Alliances in Asia are at the Forefront of Transforming into Space Alliances Security institutions in Asia are important for continued dialogue in the region, and for socializing emerging players into the realities of the new space race. But the designation of space as a warfighting domain — and of the U.S. declaration about the need to protect command-and-control structures that underpin extended deterrence — has put U.S.-led alliances with Japan and South Korea at the center of transformations into space alliances. This may affect the “hub and spoke” model, with the spokes also strengthening their relations in the distant future. Much however, depends on the continued domestic political support in the U.S., Japan, and Korea for alliances and such alliance transformations in the years ahead. Asian States Will Be Pivotal to Shaping or Scuttling Prospects for Peace - in Outer Space The capabilities of Asian states make them ideal candidates for large-scale collaboration in space, as well as on the moon and beyond. Diplomatically, they are being courted in the bipolar space competition between the U.S. and China. The rules on which they operate, and who gets to write and interpret them, will matter for patterns of polarity in the IR of space. Some Asian states have responded by signing up to U.S.-led interpretations of the Outer Space Treaty in practice, such as in the Artemis Accords. Other states from Asia may move to the China-led camp with Russia for an international lunar research station. How this soft power competition plays out will affect the rule of law in the peaceful exploration and uses of outer space. Disclosure Statement No potential conflict of interest was reported by the author(s). Additional information Notes 1. Francis Lyall and Paul B. Larsen, Space Law: A Treatise, 2nd ed. (New York, NY: Routledge, 2018); Tanja Masson-Zwaan and Mahulena Hofmann, Introduction to Space Law, 4th ed. (The Netherlands: Wolters Kluwer, 2019); Schrogl, Kai-Uwe, Peter L. Hays, Jana Robinson, Denis Moura, and Christina Giannopapa, eds., Handbook of Space Security: Policies, Applications and Programs (Volume 1 and 2) (New York, NY: Springer Reference, 2015); Ram S. Jakhu and Joseph N. 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Defense & Security
The flags of the Russia, United States, China and are drawn on a piece of ice in the form of an Arctic iceberg against a blue sky. Conflict of interests in the Arctic, Cold War, Arctic shelf

Divided Arctic in a Divided World Order

by Rasmus Gjedssø Bertelsen

한국어로 읽기 Leer en español In Deutsch lesen Gap اقرأ بالعربية Lire en français Читать на русском Introduction Arctic order historically, currently, and in the future reflects the world order. The idea of ‘Arctic exceptionalism’ is not valid and is a poor guide for policy. During Cold War bipolarity, the Arctic was divided between the Soviet Arctic and the Nordic and North American Arctic. US victory and Soviet defeat in the Cold War led to US unipolarity and hegemony which was the basis for a circumpolar (including Russia) liberal (as opposed to realist) Arctic order with organizations, such as the Arctic Council, International Arctic Science Committee, University of the Arctic, Barents and Bering regional cooperation, all on liberal topics such as science, environment, Indigenous rights, people-to-people cooperation.Footnote1 US unipolarity and hegemony are slipping away to world order characteristics of continued US unipolarity and hegemony, Sino-American bipolarity in economics and S&T and multipolarity illustrated by BRICS+. Sino-US competition and US-Russia conflict to the extent of proxy-war in Ukraine reflect these changes. The Arctic, which is de facto divided between the US-led NATO-Arctic and the Russian Arctic, where Russia reaches out to the BRICS+ in diplomacy, economics, and S&T, reflects these changes to world order. There is wishful thinking in the West of returning to post-Cold War US unipolar and hegemonic ‘liberal world order’ or ‘rules-based order’ and the circumpolar liberal Arctic order with it. This wish is probably unrealistic for global trends in demography, economics, S&T, legitimacy, etc. Significant conflict can be expected between the US/West and China and Russia on developments in world order, with the Global South standing by. The Arctic is likely to remain divided between the US-led NATO Arctic and the Russian Arctic seeking engagement with the BRICS+ world for the future with extremely limited cooperation and risk of spill-over from the Ukraine War and other US-Russia-China conflicts. The Arctic in international order There are two common, but invalid, narratives about the Arctic, which are poor guides for policy: First, ‘Arctic exceptionalism’, that the Arctic was apart from international politics and allowed for West-Russia cooperation unlike elsewhere, especially between the Russian annexation of Crimea in 2014 and the Russian full-scale invasion of Ukraine in 2022. Second, a presentist discourse, where international interests in the Arctic are seen as rising in the last 15 years, driven by climate change, the Russian flag planting on the seafloor of the North Pole in 2007, and the United States Geological Survey’s assessment of oil and gas resources in 2008, north of the Arctic Circle. Rather, the Arctic has for centuries closely mirrored the international system, whether multipolar with Western colonial empires before the World Wars, bipolar Cold War between the US and the USSR, post-Cold War US unipolarity and hegemony, or the current emerging Sino-American bipolarity and multipolarity. During 2014–2022, cooperation in the Arctic was not exceptional compared to US-Russia non-proliferation cooperation, most notably with the Iran nuclear deal in 2015, or removing chemical weapons from Syria. There was extensive US-Europe-Russia and wider collaboration around the International Space Station. There was extensive energy trade and investment between Russia and Europe, most notably with the Nord Stream 1 and 2 pipelines under the Baltic Sea. The bipolar Cold War Arctic in the bipolar Cold War order Bipolarity with two superpowers standing out from all other great powers due to their demographic, economic, science and technology, military, and ideological weight and global claims, the US and the USSR, shaped the the Cold War order. Bipolar logic shaped the international order. John Mearsheimer explains well the structural logic of a nuclear-armed bipolar superpower security competition, and he points out how each superpower formed ‘bounded orders’ of allies and clients to discipline them and mobilize their resources. These bounded orders were the West for the US with its institutions, and the East Bloc for the USSR.Footnote2 This bipolar logic was also clear in the Arctic, divided between the Nordic and North American Arctic of the West and the Soviet Arctic by the Iron Curtain in Europe and the Ice Curtain in the Bering Strait. Circumpolar Arctic cooperation was limited to the Polar Bear Treaty of 1973 between the USSR, Norway, Kingdom of Denmark, Canada, and the US, Norwegian Soviet joint fisheries management in the Barents Sea, and some Bering Strait cooperation. The Arctic was exceptionally militarized during the Cold War driven by the mutual nuclear deterrence between the US and the USSR, where the Arctic played a central role for geostrategic and technological reasons. The Arctic was the shortest flight path for bombers and missiles, and sea ice offered cover for nuclear ballistic submarines. This exceptional militarization of the Arctic harmed the human security of Arctic local and indigenous communities through forced displacement, security service surveillance, and pollution, including notable nuclear accidents, as the 1968 B52 bomber crash off Northwest Greenland with four H-bombs causing extensive radioactive contamination of much Soviet nuclear material in and around the Kola Peninsula, including sunken submarines with nuclear fuel or weapons on board.Footnote3 Circumpolar liberal Arctic order under US unipolarity The Cold War ended with US victory and Soviet defeat and dissolution, also caused by the US pressuring the USSR into a strategic nuclear arms race, that the Soviet economy could not support. US Navy operations near the Soviet Northern Fleet nuclear bastion around the Kola Peninsula were an important part of this pressure.Footnote4 The Arctic was also part of Mikhail Gorbachev’s attempt to save the USSR by reform and lowering external tension. Gorbachev called the Arctic as a zone of peace, environmental protection and scientific collaboration in his 1987 Murmansk speech, in contrast to being at the heart of a strategic nuclear arms race with the US, which the USSR could not sustain. Gorbachev’s reforms failed to avert the dissolution of the USSR and deep socio-economic, public health, and law and order crisis in Russian society during the 1990s. The Russian State withdrew to a significant extent from its Arctic, leaving military facilities and society behind. Sino-American bipolarity comes to the Arctic The relative distribution of comprehensive material and immaterial power of the strongest States shapes international order. States stay the predominant actors since the emergence of a state system, not denying powerful non-State actors historically and today. The US unipolarity after the Cold War was an exceptional time of international history and not the ‘End of History’ as believed by some quarters in the West (Fukuyama). History is returning to normal with the return of major centres of economic output and science and technology outside the West. Ironically, US unipolarity laid the foundation for the ‘Return of history’, rather than the ‘End of History’. Since the 1990s, the world experienced globalization with economic, science and technology, and cultural integration. The US as the sole superpower provided public goods and facilitated and coordinated many of these economic, scientific, and technological, and cultural flows. Globalization undermined US unipolarity, facilitating the faster relative growth of non-Western States. China’s export-oriented growth, returning it to its historical position as one of the world’s largest economies is the most important dimension for changes to world order. In parallel, other emerging markets have grown adding multipolar dimensions to international order. International Relations theory serves to think about how to respond to the return of China. About 20–25 years ago, Professor Joseph S. Nye (Harvard University) and Professor John Mearsheimer (University of Chicago) articulated two major approaches with coherent theoretical and strategic visions for the Sino-American relationship. Nye, as a liberal institutionalist scholar and policymaker in the Bill Clinton Administration, presented a vision of ‘integrate, but hedge’. China integrated in the US-led world economy as member state of the World Trade Organization, while the US hedged against the rise of China by reinforcing its alliance with Japan.Footnote5 There were strong US and Western liberal expectations of Chinese economic growth and openness leading to political openness and reform. These expectations proved to be belied and ethnocentric. Mearsheimer, in line with his offensive realist theory, clearly outlined how the US had to keep China from becoming a regional hegemon in East Asia through a containment strategy.Footnote6 The US’ China strategy has shifted from the Nye perspective to the Mearsheimer perspective, while Mearsheimer himself is ostracized for his valid, but politically unacceptable, analysis of the Ukraine War. Mearsheimer explains how Sino-American bipolarity works with realist great power State security competition, and how competing great powers form their ‘bounded orders’ of allies and clients to discipline and mobilize these.Footnote7 The US is shaping a NATO+ order of the NATO member states and Australia, New Zealand, Japan, and South Korea. The US is increasingly engaging in trade and technology wars with China to slow down its growth rate, clearly denying its access to fundamental technologies of future knowledge-based economies. A realist focus on relative gains explains US policy to reduce China’s growth rate. China has a population more than three times that of the US with an absolute economy approaching the US economy. The US cannot allow China to catch up relatively with it, as that would imply a much larger Chinese economy than that of the US. Liberals (politically and theoretically) would ascribe the US policy to different domestic political systems, but the logic of anarchy points out how domestic political systems are of secondary concern, and empirically the US firmly bypassed and disciplined the previous Anglo-Saxon superpower, Britain. US-India relations can be expected to deteriorate with India’s socio-economic development, where India has a much younger population than China with great economic growth potential. China predicted the US abandoning its own open and globalized international economic policy out of concern for China’s relative rise to the US. China pursued a domestic and international economic policy much less dependent on US benevolence. In the domestic sphere, China pursued an economy based on domestic demand. Externally, China built up a parallel international economic and science and technology system with the Belt and Road Initiative with the Asian Infrastructure Investment Bank. Other bodies, such as the Shanghai Cooperation Organization in security reflect parallel orders and institutions to the US-led Western institutions. Sino-American bipolarity also became clear in the Arctic about 10–15 years ago. China started to appear as a diplomatic, economic, science and technology actor in the Arctic. Western surprise and consternation to this development reflects the great difficulties many Westerners have in facing a world, where the Rest takes an interest in the West, and not only the West taking an interest in the Rest as during centuries of imperialism and colonialism. It should not be surprising that China as one of the world’s two largest national economies and science and technology systems (with the US) has interests in the Arctic, or anywhere else in the world. The US is globally present in politics, defence, diplomacy, economics, science and technology, culture, etc. The unfortunate Chinese term of ‘near-Arctic State’ to legitimize Chinese involvement in the Arctic drew much Western ridicule and opposition. In comparison, the US and the West seem to be ‘near-everywhere’ States. One place where the Sino-American bipolar logic appeared soon and clearly has been the Kingdom of Denmark with the North Atlantic and Arctic overseas autonomies of the Faroe Islands and Greenland. The US applies pressure on the Kingdom of Denmark to exclude Chinese investment, science and technology, in line with Mearsheimer’s argument of a superpower building bounded orders to mobilize and discipline allies and clients in security competition with a competing great or superpower. The Faroe Islands are located between Iceland, Norway, and Scotland. They are centrally placed in the Greenland-Iceland-UK Gap controlling North-South access and blocking the Soviet-Russian Northern Fleet going south for NATO or the US and NATO navies going north for USSR/Russia. The Faroe Islands are becoming increasingly independent from Denmark. Huawei has long been a partner for the Faroese telecom company, which planned to continue with Huawei for 5G. This partnership came under increasing scrutiny from Danish and US sides. The Chinese ambassador to Copenhagen during a visit to the Faroe Islands linked the Faroe Islands choosing Huawei with prospects for a Sino-Faroese free trade agreement (the Faroe Islands are outside the EU and pursue an independent trade policy).Footnote8 The US ambassador to Copenhagen publicly spoke strongly against the Faroe Islands collaborating with Huawei for 5 G.Footnote9 Greenland is geographically North American (remember the Monroe Doctrine), crucial to US (North American) homeland defence, and pursuing independence from the Kingdom of Denmark. Greenland and China have for some time eyed each other for investment and science and technology opportunities. Greenlandic independence primarily rests on economic independence from Denmark and human capital. The economic independence should be through, among other domains, mining, where China and Chinese companies were considered as very important likely investors. Copenhagen regarded Sino-Greenlandic mutual interest with great suspicion for a long time, which was evident from the report on Greenlandic mining from 2014.Footnote10 In 2014, the Royal Danish Navy abandoned Grønnedal, a small, remote old naval facility, established by the US during the Second World War, which was put up for sale. A Chinese mining company showed interest in the facility as a logistics hub for future operations in Greenland. The Danish government promptly took the facility off the market maintaining a token naval presence.Footnote11 Developing Greenlandic tourism requires upgrading the airport infrastructure, which is an enormous project for a nation of 57,000 on a 2 M km2 island. One of the finalists to an international tender was the China Construction Communication Company (4C), which might also have provided financing.Footnote12 The Danish government convinced the Greenlandic government to accept a Danish financing (with a Danish stake) of the renovated and new airports against choosing a Danish construction company.Footnote13 The Greenlandic government was reshaped over this intervention with a coalition party leaving in protest over accepting such Danish interference in Greenlandic affairs. In 2017, China publicly presented its interest in a research station in Greenland, including a satellite ground station, which the Government of Greenland might have been positive towards.Footnote14 This idea has never materialized, first probably delayed by the COVID-19 pandemic, but Denmark and the US would never accept a Chinese research station and/or satellite station in Greenland. The US government has made its pressure on the Danish government public, through former Secretary of Defense, General Jim Mattis.Footnote15 China and Iceland spearheaded Sino-Nordic Arctic research cooperation from the official visit of Chinese premier Wen Jiabao to Iceland in 2012. In 2013, the China Nordic Arctic Research Center was founded, a virtual centre of Chinese and Nordic institutions hosted by the Polar Research Institute of China in Shanghai. CNARC has hosted an annual symposium between China and a Nordic country as well as researcher exchange. Today, Sweden has withdrawn from CNARC, and Denmark does not participate, as the participating Nordic Institute of Asian Studies at the University of Copenhagen has been closed. PRIC and RANNÍS (The Icelandic Center for Research, equivalent to Research Council) held the groundbreaking ceremony for the construction of the China-Iceland Aurora Observatory, now China Iceland Arctic Observatory, at Kárhóll, Northeast Iceland, in June 2014, which I attended. The Observatory opened formally—although unfinished—in October 2018. This collaboration had been hampered by the COVID-19 pandemic and negligence from central authorities and research institutions in the capital, Reykjavik. Today, Iceland is under pressure from the US, including a recent visit by US Congressional staffers, to close CIAO.Footnote16 US-Russia Eastern European security competition divides the Arctic US-Russia security competition, especially in Eastern Europe, became increasingly clear from around 2007–2008. In 2007, Russian President Vladimir Putin delivered a speech at the Munich Security Conference, where he unsurprisingly denounced US unipolarity. Russia had rejected US unipolarity and called for multipolarity since the Primakov Doctrine of the 1990s calling for Russia, China, and India to balance the US. In spring 2008, at the initiative of the US—and with French and German reservations—the NATO Bucharest summit invited Georgia and Ukraine to become member states. In the autumn, fighting broke out between Georgia and Russian forces in the separatist enclaves of Abkhazia and South Ossetia leading to Georgia’s defeat. In autumn 2013, the EU proposed an agreement to Ukraine, which forced Ukraine to choose between Russia and the EU. The Ukrainian President rejected the EU’s proposal, leading to popular protests met with government violence and eventually the President fleeing the country. Russia intervened annexing Crimea and supporting an insurgency in the Donbas.Footnote17 In December 2021, Russia proposed a treaty to the US blocking former Soviet Republics from joining NATO and rolling back NATO troops and equipment in Central and Eastern Europe, which was rejected by the US and allies in January 2022. On 24 February 2022, Russia launched a full-scale invasion of Ukraine, which had led to a war of attrition between Russia and Ukraine. The West extends wide-ranging political, military, economic, and further support to Ukraine and tries to isolate Russia as much as possible. The Rest of the world follows Western policy of isolating Russia to a very limited extent. The Russian annexation of Crimea affected the Arctic in limited ways. The West stopped military dialogues with Russia in the Arctic Security Forces Roundtable and Arctic Chiefs of Defense Forum. The West imposed sanctions on Russian Arctic energy projects, as the US $27 billion Yamal LNG project, which initially had Russian Novatek (60 per cent), French Total (20 per cent), and China National Petroleum Cooperation (20 per cent) ownership. Sanctions forced Novatek to sell 9.9 per cent to the Chinese government’s Silk Road Fund and rely on Chinese bank funding. Russia responded to these sanctions with counter sanctions on Western food exports to Russia, which also affected some Arctic seafood export to Russia. Russia accepted Faroese salmon exports, which led to a boom in Faroese economy. In 2014, there was some protests in the Arctic Council from the Chair, Canada. Otherwise, Arctic Council and other scientific, people-to-people, cooperation continued between Russia and the seven other Arctic States. For Northern Norway, extensive regional cooperation in the Barents region continued. The Russian full-scale invasion of Ukraine led to an almost complete Western cessation of Arctic collaboration with Russia. The other seven Arctic countries refused to collaborate with Russia in the Arctic Council, chaired by Russia 2021–2023. The Seven—now all NATO member states—Arctic Council member states have since backed down significantly. The Arctic Council was always more important to them than to Russia, suggesting that this Western brinkmanship was poorly thought through. There are extensive Western sanctions against the Russian economy, including against Russian Arctic energy projects, which were a key basis for developing the Russian Arctic. Russia had sought to develop a Europe-Russia-East Asia energy system with Russian Arctic oil and gas being exported both West to Europe and East to East Asia and with balanced Western and East Asian investments.Footnote18 The West has almost completely cut science and technology relations with Russia, also in the Arctic. The rare exceptions to continued Arctic science collaboration between West and Russia are for instance, the Norway-Russia Barents Sea Fisheries Commission because Norway also depends on this collaboration. The US continues more academic collaboration with Russia than European countries allow themselves; for instance, receiving Russian Fulbright professors. Norway pursued an extensive regional cooperation policy with Russia, Finland, and Sweden in the Barents Region since 1993 with much support for cross-border people-to-people exchange for youth, in education, academia, culture, environment, business development, and further. This collaboration built extensive insight, experience, networks, and access in Russia at North Norwegian institutions, as UiT The Arctic University of Norway, UNN The University Hospital of Northern Norway, the Norwegian Polar Institute, the Arctic Frontiers Conference, businesses such as Akvaplan-Niva marine environmental consultancy, and in academia, civil society, education, and government. The border town of Kirkenes depended for about a third of its economic turnover on trade with Russia. These connections are now almost completely cut by Norwegian government policy. Russian society and politics did become much more closed and authoritarian during this period, but that was for internal political reasons and not directed against Norway. Personally, I had successful high-level academic cooperation with some of the key Russian academic institutions funded by Norwegian public funds until they were forbidden by Norwegian government policy after the Russian invasion of Ukraine. My last personal visit to Moscow was in December 2019, and I was planning to visit with a sizeable group of Norwegian faculty and PhD candidates in April 2020, postponed due to the COVID-19 pandemic. The rapid division of world order in a NATO+ and a BRICS++ world The world is separating into a NATO+ grouping of NATO countries and Australia, New Zealand, Japan, and South Korea, under clear US leadership, and the Rest. The Rest, I call BRICS++ for the BRICS+ grouping and many other countries. This separation is clear through demography, economy, and science and technology. Humanity is about 8 billion people, compared to the West, which is about 1 billion, making it a small minority. Humanity is expected to grow to 10 billion, where the West will remain at about 1 billion, a shrinking small minority. The dominance of the West has rested on economic development and science and technology, translated into military force, with a shrinking demographic share of the world economy, scientific and technological development and relative power shifts from the West to the Rest. Legitimacy and credibility divisions are also clearly visible between the NATO+ and the BRICS++ worlds concerning the war in Ukraine, where the West is astonished by its own isolation. To great surprise, the Rest of the world have not followed the West’s attempts to isolate Russia diplomatically and economically. This rejection of the West’s position was clear from the very first UN Security Council debate on the Russian invasion of Ukraine on 24 February 2022. Russian veto and Chinese and Indian abstentions were not surprising, but the abstention by the United Arab Emirates was remarkable considering the close security and other partnerships between the GCC countries and the US and historically the UK. The speech during the debate on 21 February 2022, a few days prior, by the Kenyan ambassador to the Security Council, condemning Russia’s recognition of breakaway regions but reminding that other UNSC permanent members had also violated international law, showed the lack of Western credibility and legitimacy on the issue.Footnote19 Western credibility and legitimacy have eroded further by supporting Israel’s genocide in Gaza since the 7 October 2023 Hamas attack on Israel. The Division of the Arctic in a NATO Arctic and Russian BRICS++ Arctic. The effects of world order on the Arctic are clear, applying the analytical lenses of unipolar, bipolar, and multipolar traits of world order to the Arctic. The world is increasingly becoming Sino-American bipolar, where the US seeks to maintain unipolarity through a global containment strategy of China. This struggle is also evident in the Arctic; for instance, US pressure on the Kingdom of Denmark to exclude Chinese investment, science and technology in the Faroe Islands and Greenland. The US keeps up an ever-stronger anti-Chinese Arctic discourse from Secretary of State Mike Pompeo’s 2019 speech in Rovaniemi, Finland, to US Senator Lisa Murkowski at the Arctic Circle Assembly in Reykjavik in 2024. Russia has opposed US unipolarity since the 1990s, seeking multipolarity. The conflict between US and Russian multipolarity ultimately escalated via the 2014 annexation of Crimea, the 2022 invasion of Ukraine and the proxy war in Ukraine. This conflict has led to an almost complete division of the Arctic into NATO-Arctic (collaborating with the wider NATO+ world and further) and the Russian Arctic. Russia reaches out all it can diplomatically, economically, and in science and technology to the BRICS++ world, especially China and India. The Rest of the World seems restrained from pursuing Russian Arctic opportunities by the risk of US and Western secondary sanctions and other NATO Arctic pushbacks. Conclusion: looking forward for world and Arctic order The world is—as usual for international history—marked by the struggle over the world order among the strongest State actors. This struggle was forgotten especially by European observers during the post-Cold War era, with the illusion of End of History and confounding globalization and modernization with Westernization. Instead, we have had the Return of History and the return of historically very large non-Western economic, science and technology actors as China, followed by others. The current struggle over the world order also shapes the Arctic, as was historically clear, especially during the Second World War and the Cold War. The US is determined to prolong post-Cold War unipolar dominance expressed as ‘rules-based order’, where the US defines the rules, to whom, and when they apply. Europe has found an apparently comfortable and completely dependent position in this US-led order. The Rest of the World less so, with China and Russia explicitly rejecting this US-led order. The conflict over world order between the US and its bounded order in the NATO+ world in Europe, Oceania, and East Asia and the Rest of the World, can only be expected to escalate. The US must either stop Chinese economic, science and technology development (and later other peer competitors), or demographics, economy, science and technology will lead to a more bipolar and multipolar world. Europe by its dependence on the US is forced to follow this US strategy. The war in Ukraine can lead to a frozen conflict, where the overall Russia-West relationship remains highly conflictual, including in the Arctic. Ukrainian defeat or a negotiated settlement with a neutralized Ukraine and cessation of territory to Russia will also probably lead to a decadal severance of economic, science and technology, people-to-people ties between Russia and the West, including in the Arctic. A Russian defeat is unlikely because of difference in Russian and Ukrainian manpower and resources. China is unlikely to allow Russia to succumb to the US, which would put defeated Russia on China’s Northern frontier in China’s own conflict with the US. All in all, world order seems highly conflictual and with increased separation between the NATO+ and the BRICS++ world, which will only bring humanity more conflict and less economic development and growth, unlike the age of post-Cold War globalization. This division will be replicated in the Arctic. Disclosure statementNo potential conflict of interest was reported by the author(s).Additional informationNotes on contributorsRasmus Gjedssø Bertelsen is Professor at UiT The Arctic University of Norway. Views expressed are personal. Notes 1. Rasmus Gjedssø Bertelsen, ‘Unipolarity and Order in the Arctic’. Nina Græger, Bertel Heurlin, Ole Wæver, Anders Wivel, (Eds.), Polarity in International Relations. Governance, Security and Development, Palgrave Macmillan, Cham, 2022 at https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-05505-8_16. 2. John J. Mearsheimer, ‘Bound to Fail: The Rise and Fall of the Liberal International Order’, International Security, 43 (4), 2019, pp. 7–50 at https://doi.org/10.1162/isec_a_00342 3. George Lindsey, ‘Strategic Stability in the Arctic’, Adelphi Papers 241, International Institute for Strategic Studies, 1989. 4. Steven E. Miller, ‘The Return of the Strategic Arctic’, in The Arctic Yearbook, 2023 at https://arcticyearbook.com/images/yearbook/2022/Commentaries/6C_AY2022_Miller.pdf. 5. Joseph S. Nye, ‘The Challenge of China’, in Stephen Van Evera (Ed.) How to Make America Safe: New Policies for National Security, The Tobin Project, Cambridge, MA 2006 at https://tobinproject.org/sites/default/files/assets/Make_America_Safe_The_Challenge_Of_China.pdf. 6. John J. Mearsheimer, ‘The Rise of China Will Not Be Peaceful at All’, The Australian, 18 November 2005 at https://www.mearsheimer.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/06/The-Australian-November-18-2005.pdf. 7. John J. Mearsheimer, ‘Bound to Fail: The Rise and Fall of the Liberal International Order’, International Security, 43 (4), pp. 7–50, 2019 athttps://doi.org/10.1162/isec_a_00342. 8. Thomas Foght, ‘Hemmelig lydoptagelse: Kina pressede Færøerne til at vælge Huawei’ [Secret Sound Recording: China Pressured the Faroe Islands to Choose Huawei]. Danmarks Radio, 2019 at https://www.dr.dk/nyheder/indland/hemmelig-lydoptagelse-kina-pressede-faeroeerne-til-vaelge-huawei. 9. Adam Satariano, ‘At the Edge of the World, a New Battleground for the US and China’, New York Times, 2019 at https://www.nytimes.com/2019/12/20/technology/faroe-islands-huawei-china-us.html. 10. The Committee for Greenlandic Mineral Resources to the Benefit of Society, ‘To the Benefit of Greenland’. Ilisimatusarfik-University of Greenland; University of Copenhagen, 2014 at https://vbn.aau.dk/ws/files/208241864/To_the_benefit_of_Greenland.pdf. 11. Martin Breum, ‘Analyse: Stoppede Danmarks statsminister kinesisk opkøb i Grønland?’ [Analysis: Did the Danish Prime Minister Stop Chinese Acquisition in Greenland?]. High North News, 2018 at https://www.highnorthnews.com/nb/analyse-stoppede-danmarks-statsminister-kinesisk-opkob-i-gronland. 12. Teis Jensen, ‘Greenland shortlists Chinese company for airport construction despite Denmark’s concerns’, Reuters, 2018 at https://www.reuters.com/article/world/greenland-shortlists-chinese-company-for-airport-construction-despite-denmarks-idUSKBN1H32XG/. 13. Statsministeriet, ‘Aftale mellem regeringen og Naalakkersuisut om dansk engagement i lufthavnsprojektet i Grønland og styrket erhvervssamarbejde mellem Danmark og Grønland’ [Agreement Between the [Danish] Government and Naalakkersuisut [Government of Greenland] on Danish Involvement in the Airport Project in Greenland and Enhanced Business Collaboration Between Denmark and Greenland] Statsministeriet. Formandens Departement, 2018 at https://www.stm.dk/media/8148/10-09-2018_aftale_mellem_regeringen_og_naalakkersuisut.pdf. 14. Martin Breum, ‘Kina vil bygge kontroversiel forskningsstation i Grønland’. [China Wants to Build Controversial Research Station in Greenland], 2017 at https://www.information.dk/udland/2017/10/kina-bygge-kontroversiel-forskningsstation-groenland. 15. Damian Paletta and Itkowitz Colby, ‘Trump Aides Look into US Purchasing Greenland after Directives from President’. The Washington Post, 2019 at https://www.washingtonpost.com/business/2019/08/16/america-first-greenland-second-is-trumps-latest-white-house-directive/. 16. ‘Letter to Anthony Blinking and Lloyd Austin’, Select Committee on the Chinese Communist Party, United States Congress, 2017 at https://democrats-selectcommitteeontheccp.house.gov/sites/evo-subsites/democrats-selectcommitteeontheccp.house.gov/files/evo-media-document/10.16.24_PRC%20dual%20use%20research%20in%20the%20Arctic__.pdf. 17. John J. Mearsheimer, ‘Why the Ukraine Crisis is the West’s Fault: The Liberal Delusions That Provoked Putin’, Foreign Affairs, September/October, 2014 at https://www.mearsheimer.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/06/Why-the-Ukraine-Crisis-Is.pdf. 18. Mariia Kobzeva and Rasmus Gjedssø Bertelsen, ‘European-Russian-Chinese Arctic Energy System’,in Xing Li (Ed) China-EU Relations in a New Era of Global Transformation, London: Routledge, London, 2021, 22p. 19. Martin Kimani, ‘Statement by Amb. Martin Kimani, during the Security Council Urgent Meeting on the Situation in Ukraine’, The Permanent Mission of the Republic of Kenya, United Nations Security Council, February 2022 at https://www.un.int/kenya/sites/www.un.int/files/Kenya/kenya_statement_during_urgent_meeting_on_on_ukraine_21_february_2022_at_2100.pdf.

Defense & Security
trade war. Flag of the People's Republic of China. Flag of the United States. Taiwan flag, 3d illustration

The ‘Clash of Nationalisms’ in the Contentious USA–Taiwan–China Relations

by Orson Tan , Alexander C. Tan

한국어로 읽기 Leer en español In Deutsch lesen Gap اقرأ بالعربية Lire en français Читать на русском Abstract Why is it that cross-strait tension has been at its highest since the missile crisis of 1996? Why is the USA–Taiwan–China relations so contentious since 2016? This article argues that one oft-neglected factor—nationalism and identity politics—needs to be considered as a contributing factor to the heightened tension in this triangular relationship. In all three states, audience costs have significantly increased as domestic leaders and elites appeal to populist and nationalistic positions and rhetoric. Though studies of foreign policy often claim that ‘politics stop at the water’s edge,’ populist and nationalist rhetoric in the domestic politics almost always spill over to the international arena. The convergence of Trump’s America First and the US’ obsession with its global primacy underpins and drives America’s approach to its strategic competition with China. China’s continual reference to the hundred years of humiliation in the nineteenth century and early twentieth century and Xi Jinping’s ‘China Dream’ are ethnonationalist appeals that drives China’s fight for its ‘rightful place’ in the global pecking order. Taiwan’s deepening national identity and sociopolitical de-Sinicisation while contributing the development of a separate nation-state is a direct clash to the People’s Republic of China (PRC’s) claim of Taiwan as part of its one-China principle. This article will trace and examine the role of domestic nationalism and how it has contributed to make the Taiwan Straits a ‘hotspot’ in global geopolitics and geoeconomics. Introduction The introduction of the phrase ‘Taiwan Contingency’ to the global lexicon in 2020 served to highlight how the temperature of cross-strait relations between China and Taiwan had become a key barometer that the global community was paying attention to (Taylor, 2020). It is also not a coincidence that the increasing attention paid to the Taiwan Strait comes at a time when the USA–China relationship has devolved into great power strategic competition; the Pentagon had long used the term ‘Taiwan Contingency’ in its annual assessment reports on the US military’s ability to implement the Taiwan Relations Act, going as far back as the report from the year 2000, but it was only when USA–China relations worsened and cross-strait tensions created a worry about a flashpoint that the term became widely used (Department of Defense, 2000; Wuthnow, 2020). Much has been said about the increasing tension in cross-strait relations being a result of the overarching competition between the USA and China to define their positions vis-a-viz each other in the global hierarchy. These increasing tensions have often been attributed to the inherent rivalry between an ascending power and a declining one, most notably by Graham Allison in his book Destined for War (Hanania, 2021). The idea of the Thucydides Trap as floated by Allison has become the dominant narrative in the discourse surrounding the USA–China competition and has also contributed to an arguably narrow analysis of the strategic competition. Influenced by the analysis of the Thucydides Trap, China’s actions have been cast separately as being driven by security concerns and imperial aggression, feeding into the narrative of a power struggle in the international arena between the reigning superpower and a surging new power with desires to fulfil its civilisational creed (Mazza, 2024; Peters et al., 2022; Sobolik, 2024). This view seeks to portray China as a disrupting force that seeks to upend the status quo in the international system and thereby overturn the current rules-based international order, while casting the USA as a defender standing up against Chinese aggression, and has led to the USA–China strategic competition also being referred to a ‘new Cold War’ (Brands & Gaddis, 2021; Mazza, 2024). The rising tension in the Taiwan Strait has thus been seen as serving as a frontline to this ‘new Cold War’, and that the three-party relationship between the USA, China and Taiwan serves as some litmus test of American ability to contain a rising China (Lee, 2024). In fact, China hawks in the US and Taiwanese officials have often made use of this ‘new Cold War’ setting to frame the USA–China strategic competition as a competition between autocracies and democracies, and that Taiwan’s democracy makes it worth protecting (Hung, 2022; Lee, 2024). The Taiwanese government has consistently focused on a need to build an alliance of democracies that will support the island against Chinese aggression, highlighting shared values and like-minded partners in their discourse (Ripley, 2024). Yet, a broader analysis shows how framing the rising tension in the Taiwan Strait was a by-product of the greater geopolitical struggle between the USA and China in this ‘new Cold War’ ignores other possible factors. Most notably, the impact of nationalism and identity politics on the domestic sphere needs to be considered as a contributing factor to the heightened tension in this triangular relationship. While there has been increasing attention on nationalism as a characteristic of the international system since the time that scholars like Holsti (1980) brought up the need to emphasise the ‘prominence of nationalist behaviour’ in international relations (IRs) theory, the contemporary analysis of the Taiwan Strait issue shows that most still ignore the impact of domestic pressures on foreign policy choice by the three parties in this relationship; audience costs have significantly increase as domestic leaders and elites appeal to populist and nationalistic positions and rhetoric, and these populist and nationalist rhetoric in the domestic politics almost always spill over to the international arena (p. 25). In the United States, we have the convergence of Trump’s America First ideology and the US’ obsession with its global primacy that underpins and drives America’s approach to its strategic competition with China. While in China, the Chinese Communist Party’s (CCP) continual reference to the hundred years of humiliation in the nineteenth century and early twentieth century and Xi Jinping’s ‘China Dream’ are ethnonationalist appeals that are used to reinforce the Party’s right to guide China to fight for its ‘rightful place’ in the global pecking order. On the island, Taiwan’s deepening national identity and sociopolitical de-Sinicisation while contributing the development of a separate nation-state create a direct clash to the People’s Republic of China (PRC’s) claim of Taiwan as part of its one-China principle. This article thus seeks to trace and examine the role of domestic nationalism and how it has contributed to make the Taiwan Strait a ‘hotspot’ in global geopolitics and geoeconomics. This is done by first analysing the literature on nationalism and its role in IRs, following which, the sections examine the unique nationalisms of the United States, China and Taiwan and their role in increasing audience costs for the political elite, which will allow us to analyse how this clash of nationalism contributes to the Taiwan Strait becoming the global ‘hotspot’ that it is. Understanding Nationalism in International Relations As previously mentioned, the literature on IRs theory mainly focuses ‘on models of international interaction based on rational action and material structural factors, and exogenising the formation of preferences and the actors’ identities’ (D’Anieri, 1997, p. 2). Even theorists who have engaged with nationalism in international relations have admitted that ‘the relationship between the two has never been an especially easy one’ (Cox, 2019, p. 249). Yet nationalism is arguably central to the practice of IRs, given how nationalism is a key factor that makes it possible to conceive of states as coherent agents, as it creates the distinctiveness that allows a nation-state to define itself in its interactions with another (Kowert, 2012; Waltz, 1959). It is almost impossible to ignore the role of nationalism given the presumed equivalence of ‘nation’ and ‘state’ in IRs theories, and how nationalism is embedded in the conceptualisation of sovereignty, which serves as a fundamental factor in the interactions between states (Heiskanen, 2019, 2021). This is especially so given how the era of globalisation has come to an end, giving rise to a period of IRs that is characterised by securitisation and the preponderance of terms like ‘national security’ and ‘national interest’ (Heiskanen, 2019; Posen, 2022). In this contemporary age, there is a heightened awareness of the need to express and protect a state’s sovereignty in its international interactions, which therefore paves the way for nationalism to be the ‘centripetal force’ in driving interactions between nation-states (Kovács, 2022; Waltz, 1959, pp. 177–178). Nationalism can play such a role in defining interactions between nation-states because nationalism at its core is the conceptualisation of the identity of the polity. Modern nationalism in that sense is the expression of the principle that ‘nation = state = people’, with the purpose of binding the people to the state under one ‘imagined community’ to justify the existence of the nation-state as a construct (Anderson, 1983; Hobsbawm, 1990, p. 19). The nationalism that defines the nation-state is neither natural nor inevitable, but rather a by-product of a nation-building effort to craft an identity that will allow the state to distinguish and therefore differentiate itself in a world of nation-states (Connor, 1990; Gellner, 1983; Smith, 1986). This creates the peculiarity of nationalism in which they are essentially all the same, yet at the same time, individually unique by necessity. It is thus the interaction between the individual uniqueness while having the same broad goals that lead to nationalism influencing the interactions of nation-states in the international arena; arguably, it is not just the strength of nationalism that is important but also the content of the national identity that helps dictate the interaction between the states (D’Anieri, 1997). The creation and the make-up of nationalisms and national identities are thus of interests for this article’s analysis of the triangular relationship between United States, China and Taiwan. The literature on nationalism and national identity gives us a breakdown on the creation of nationalism. As a relatively modern phenomenon, the rise of nationalisms around the world is a direct result of the socioeconomic upheaval that marked the progress of modernity (Anderson, 1983; Gellner, 1983). The advent of industrialisation saw the collapse of the previous social structure that separated the agrarian, merchant classes and the nobility, and necessitated the development of a new identity that would bind diverse groups of people together under the banner of a nation-state. In that regard, the creation of nationalism was necessarily top-down, often driven by the needs of the new political elite who now exercised power in these emerging modern nation-states and formed through nationwide tools such as a national language and the national education system (Anderson, 1983; Gellner, 1983). The content of the national identity though could not simply be created out of thin air where the general form of nationalisms is the same and built on a structure of common identity and a sense of belonging to a community, the content of nationalisms needed to be specific to the groups of people living in the nation-state to produce the necessary uniqueness that would engender the desired outcome. As such, nationalisms and national identities were built on the pre-existing myths and histories of the people that inhabited the land or were present at the founding of the nation-state (Billig, 1995; Calhoun, 1997; Smith, 1986). This results in various contents of the nationalism that are part ethnic but also part mythological. The next section will examine the contents of the national identities of the United States, China and Taiwan in relation to this. American Exceptionalism: America the Great Like all nationalisms, American nationalism aims to ‘legitimise, mobilise and integrate the nation, thereby promoting the unity of the national people, and demanding a sovereign state for this nation’ (Trautsch, 2016, p. 291). Yet unlike European nationalism which had existing histories to build upon, American nationalism was ‘a model of nationhood that did not rest on historic claims to antiquity nor on any sense of distinctive peoplehood’, its foundations being very much rooted on mythologising the pilgrims’ journey across the Atlantic on the Mayflower and the nation’s beginnings as a settler nation (Doyle, 2009, p. 79). The pilgrims’ journey on the Mayflower marked the separation between the ‘Old World’ and the ‘New World’, providing dividing line that forms the basis for the conceptualisation of America as unique. While American nationalism does identify its roots with the colonial migration from Europe, the beginnings of this nationalism are tied specifically to the American Revolution and the Declaration of Independence (Doyle, 2009). The War of Independence marked a coalescing of consciousness in the 13 colonies that birthed a new nation, and gave even more credence to the distinction between Europe and the ‘Old World’, and the new American nation in the ‘New World’ (Commager, 1959; Doyle, 2009). This distinction was helped by the colonies’ history as an asylum for religious dissenters, impoverished servants and assorted refugees from Europe, allowing the colonies to divest itself of its British heritage (Doyle, 2009). Yet, certain aspects of British culture did influence the founding fathers of America in the conception of the American nation. While rebelling against their colonial masters, the founding fathers framed their independence as based on the British belief in the institutions of law, liberty and representative government mixed with a healthy dose of religiosity, which, given the lack of a feudal tradition and existing aristocracy, allowed for the creation of a national consciousness that celebrated equality without the necessary social revolution that marked the ‘Old World’ (Lieven, 2012). This allowed for the image of America as a newfound promise land, further playing into the distinction between the old and new, and as scholars from Tocqueville on have noted, birthed the idea of the exceptionalism of the American nation, the ‘shining city on the hill’ (Lieven, 2012). The subsequent expansion of the USA westward that saw the eventual formation of the geographical borders of modern America helped to further this sense of exceptionalism. As the expansion evolved from purchasing land to conflict with both the Native Americans and the Spanish colonial forces, American exceptionalism took on a sense of preordination (Doyle, 2009; Trautsch, 2016). Between the Revolution and the Civil War, American nationalists who recognised the need for strengthening the national consciousness began the enterprise by focusing on the fundamental idea that ‘Americans had a historic mission and that their bond of nationhood lay in their common destiny’; this required the positioning of America’s future place in the history of the world as one that was naturally glorious (Doyle, 2009, p. 86; Trautsch, 2016). To that end, the nationalists pushed the narrative of America’s ‘manifest destiny’, an unstoppable rise for the ‘freest, the happiest, and soon to be the greatest and most powerful country in the world’ (Doyle, 2009, p. 88). The successful expansion and victories in conflict that eventuated in the American nation covering the breadth of continental North America firmly entrenched this sense of preordained greatness for the nation. American nationalism had come to encompass both the civic values of liberty and respect for institutions, and the dreams of imperial grandeur that marked them for greatness; America was free and therefore exceptional, just as America was victorious and therefore exceptional. American exceptionalism, therefore, made the nation’s ascension to the top of the global hierarchy post-1945 easy. To the American nation, having believed in their destined greatness, a seat at the table presiding over global affairs was only to be expected. American nationalism had led the nation to believe in its destiny, and it saw itself as having been chosen, or even, anointed to lead (Lieven, 2012). Such exceptionalism naturally influences modern American foreign policy, as Kristol (1983) points out: Patriotism springs from love of the nation’s past; nationalism arises out of hope for the nation’s future, distinctive greatness…The goals of American foreign policy must go well beyond a narrow, too literal definition of ‘national security.’ It is the national interest of a world power, as this is defined by a sense of national destiny. (p. xiii) American nationalism shapes the way the USA views its interactions with the world, starting with its presumption of its deserved position at the top of the global hierarchy. The mythologising of its ‘historic mission’ and ‘manifest destiny’ helped to create the paradigm that the United States is the natural leader of the world, and its national interests include the protection of its position as the leader of the world. This creates a knock-on effect in its interactions with other states; if the United States is the natural leader, then others must listen and be led, and as the leader, challenges to its primacy cannot be tolerated. However, such conceptualisation brings it into a clash with the rising nationalism of China. Chinese Ethnonationalism: The China Dream Unlike American nationalism, modern Chinese nationalism is a relatively new phenomenon. In fact, the conceptualisation of a Chinese nation did not come about until the nineteenth century, as the Chinese tried to ‘create a modern identity to cope with conditions created by China’s confrontation with the Western world’, forcing the Chinese ‘to deal with foreign concepts, including that of nation, state, sovereignty, citizenship and race’ (Wu, 1991, p. 159). Furthermore, where American nationalism was centred upon its existence as a settler nation, Chinese nationalism could rest on both historic claims to antiquity and a sense of distinctive peoplehood, as Smith (1986) would have identified it, the roots of Chinese nationalism were definitely ethnosymbolic. The 1911 Revolution that saw the collapse of the Qing Dynasty and Imperial China marked the beginnings of modern Chinese nationalism (Townsend, 1992). Where previously the conceptualisation of Chinese identity was grounded in a rich cultural heritage of stories about the ‘abstract idea of the ‘Great Tradition’ of Chinese civilisation’, the encroachment of Western colonial forces in China led to rising discontentment amongst the Chinese public and the rise of intellectual writings about a modern form of Chinese identity which combined Chinese tradition and Western nationalism (Townsend, 1992; Wang, 1988, p. 2; Zheng, 2012). Dr Sun Yat-Sen, who is acknowledged as the father of the modern nation, pushed for the creation of a consciousness of nationhood in his Three Principles of the People, advocating for the creation of modern Chinese nationalism that was centred upon the Chinese people as a unified group, which he categorised as the Chinese ethnic community, ÖлªÃñ×å zhonghuaminzu (Fitzgerald, 2016; Tan & Chen, 2013; Wang, 1988; Wells, 2001). The end of the 1911 Revolution saw the establishment of the Republic of China (ROC) with Dr. Sun as the first president (Zheng, 2012). This marked the transition of China from imperial to statehood and saw the coalescing of the consciousness of Chinese nationhood. The ethnosymbolic roots of Chinese nationalism permeated this consciousness, even the name of the Republic, ÖлªÃñ¹ú zhonghuaminguo, emphasised the belonging of the state to the Chinese ethnic nation as the first three characters of the name represent the ethnic Chinese nation. So, Chinese nationalism can be said to also equate to Chinese ethnonationalism, and as a nationalism that rested on the rich history of the Chinese people and the abstract conceptualisation of the following the tradition of great Chinese civilisations, Chinese nationalism is also beholden to a lot of nostalgia. Where Dr Sun and his fellow intellectuals pushed the creation of Chinese nationalism by appealing to the cultural heritage of Chinese civilisation, they combined this with modern western nationalist ideology that focused on a struggle for sovereignty, in this case against the Western imperial powers and the Qing rulers. As such, this nostalgia is driven by the experiences of the Chinese people during the perceived ‘century of humiliation’ °ÙÄê¹ú³Ü bainianguochi starting from the Opium War till 1945, where China struggled for self-determination only to be invaded by the Japanese prior to the Second World War (Fitzgerald, 2016; Townsend, 1992; Zheng, 2012). China, as the empire-turned-nation and heir to the great tradition of Chinese imperial civilisation, was successively beaten and this was seen as a deep shame to the Chinese people who under successively foreign oppressors, including the Manchus of the Qing Dynasty, longed for freedom and a return to glory for the Chinese nation. As such, when Mao announced the founding of the PRC in 1949, the legitimacy of the CCP in ruling the nation was built on Chinese nationalism and the part that the party played in defeating the Japanese. The CCP’s victory in the civil war was arguably also because they presented themselves as even more nationalist than the nationalist Kuomintang (KMT) that they chased out of the mainland (Gries, 2020). This close connection between the party’s legitimacy and Chinese nationalism has seen the CCP often fall back on nationalistic propaganda to shore up its position of power, most notably after the events of Tiananmen Square (Gries, 2020). With his ascension to the presidency, Xi Jinping has continued the use of Chinese nationalism to firm up the party’s hold on power, having often referred to China’s rise as the country’s national destiny, referencing the country’s glorious past and harping on the ‘century of humiliation’ that denied China its place among the world’s powers (Tan, 2023). In this current form of Chinese ethnonationalism, Xi’s slogan of ‘national rejuvenation’ helps to reinforce the concept that China, once great but humiliated by the predations of Western colonisers, is now reclaiming its previous majesty to fulfil the ‘China Dream’ (Tan, 2023). This creates the sense that China must stand up to Western powers due to their rightful placed in the world while it must also continue to address the humiliations of the past, of which Taiwan serves as a reminder of, and this creates the setting for competition with the United States and rising tensions with Taiwan. Taiwanese Nationalism: De-sinicised and Independent The case of Taiwanese nationalism is an interesting one. Of the three nationalisms examined in this article, Taiwanese nationalism is the youngest one, having come into existence only in recently. Furthermore, unlike the United States and China, there is no continuity and coherence between the nation and the state in Taiwan. The state governing and exerting authority over Taiwan’s population embodies and merges two distinct political visions, each tied to a separate national identity: Chinese and Taiwanese, as the ROC is ‘a product of Chinese history and Chinese nationalism’, having been imposed onto the island when the KMT lost the civil war and fled the mainland (Clark & Tan, 2012; Lepesant, 2018, p. 65). In fact, while the KMT exercised marital rule over the island under the regimes of Chiang Kai-shek and Chiang Ching-kuo, the party tried constantly to impose an essentialist Chinese nationalism that clashed with the memories and experience of most of the island’s population, especially those who were raised under Japanese rule (Lepesant, 2018). This directly restricted the development of a national consciousness that centred on Taiwanese-ness, which explains the relatively late creation of Taiwanese nationalism. While overseas Taiwanese who were exiled by the KMT had started to display ideologies that was a semblance of Taiwanese nationalism, it was not until the 1980s and the gradual democratisation of the island that this nationalism began to take root (Chiou, 2003; Clark & Tan, 2012; Wakabayashi, 2006; Wu, 2004). With the increasing calls for political liberalisation in the 1980s, Chiang Ching-kuo began the initial process of Taiwanisation, allowing for the appointments of Taiwanese who were ±¾Ê¡ÈË benshengren (Han-Chinese who were on the island before the 1949 migration) to political positions even in his own administration (Cabestan, 2005). This kickstarted the process of nation-building, which only moved into a higher gear with the democratisation of the island in the early 1990s as there developed a political imperative to create an identity that could unify the people on the island (Wakabayashi, 2006). Lee Teng-hui, as the president of Taiwan who oversaw the democratisation process, put his support behind the Taiwanisation movement, supporting the development of a nation-building programme that would spur the adoption of Taiwanese nationalism, against the wishes of the KMT old guard. Lee’s action in building up Taiwanese nationalism is best seen in his propagation of the idea of a ‘new Taiwanese’ national identity in his speech to the National Assembly and more concretely, the change in name for the ROC to the ROC on Taiwan (Chiou, 2003; Jacobs, 2007; Wakabayashi, 2006). As such, the content of Taiwanese nationalism cannot be separated from the complex history of the island. The roots of Taiwanese nationalism are traced to the imperial expansion of Japan in the late 1800s, while previously the island had some contact with various Chinese dynasties and a brief colonial period by the Dutch, the Qing had neglected the island which meant that Japanese colonialisation marked the modernisation of the island (Cabestan, 2005; Wakabayashi, 2006). Japanese colonial rule also sparked the development of a pan-Taiwanese identity rooted in a struggle for independence, and distinctly anti-colonial and anti-Japanese (Brown, 2004). This pan-Taiwanese identity covered all the residents of the island who were not Japanese and therefore was not just restricted to the ethnic Han Chinese. With democratisation and the push for the ‘new Taiwanese’ national identity under Lee, this pan-Taiwanese identity was used as the foundation to build a new national identity. However, this also meant that the aspects of this identity that focused on independence were subsumed into the new Taiwanese nationalism, which was further enhanced by the experiences of the Taiwanese people under KMT rule (Wakabayashi, 2006). For Taiwan, both Japanese colonial rule and the experience of the civil war of post-1945 China became the existence of the ‘others’ to the development of the Taiwanese sense of self (Wakabayashi, 2006). This therefore meant that Taiwanese nationalism was first and foremost a nationalism for an independent Taiwan. In 2000, with the election of Chen Shui-bian from the then opposition Democratic Peoples’ Party (DPP) to the presidency, Taiwanese nationalism took another step in its evolution. No longer was Taiwanese nationalism simply about the independent sovereignty of the island whilst maintaining the cultural affinity for the Chinese tradition as espoused by Lee, but now there was a clear de-Sinicised aspect to Taiwanese nationalism and national identity (Hughes, 2013; Wakabayashi, 2006). This was driven by the policies of the Chen administration which included initiatives to rectify Taiwan’s name, changes to institutions designed to promote unification with mainland China, attempts to change the ROC Constitution and most importantly, the re-orientation of the education curriculum to focus more on Taiwan and less on the mainland. This resulted in the evolution of Taiwanese national identity towards one that increasingly sidelined the culturally ethnic Chinese component, instead insisting a cultural makeup that was simultaneously Han Chinese, Japanese and Aboriginal Taiwanese (Brown, 2004; Hughes, 2013; Wu, 2004). Yet such a nationalism brings along issues given the precarious relationship between the island and its cross-strait neighbour. The Clash of Nationalisms This article aimed to examine the role that nationalism played in the rising tensions in the United States, China and Taiwan triangular relationship. The idea that nationalisms can be antagonistic to each other and lead to conflict is not entirely new, despite the lack of IR theories that appropriately accommodate for the impact of nationalism. Samuel Huntington (1996) in his book, Clash of Civilizations, argues that future global conflicts will be driven not by ideological or economic differences but by cultural and civilisational divisions due to the increasing interaction between civilisations as a result of globalisation. Huntington (1996) predicted that a rising and assertive East Asia, on the back of rapid economic development, would increasingly come into conflict with Western civilisation led by the United States, in part due to a difference in cultural values and geopolitical goals. Where some would argue that Huntington’s claims were oversimplified and may broadly reinforce cleavages, especially in the aftermath of 9/11 and the War on Terror, his basic premise provides an interesting starting point to examining the impact of nationalism on the USA–China–Taiwan relationship. While Huntington viewed the incoming conflict as drawn along civilisational lines, assuming that cultural similarities and affinities would be sufficient to create groupings of nation-states around the world that would come into conflict with each other, recent events have proven otherwise. In fact, cases like Donald Trump’s threat to put a 25% tariff on Canadian imports when he assumes the presidency in January 2025 serve as a reminder that nationalism can easily overpower any sense of cultural affinity, even between nations as closely connected and allied as the United States and Canada (Hale, 2024). The advent of modernity brought about the rise of nationalism in the nation-state, and in the bid to give the nation-state’s existence legitimacy, each nationalism was propagated as individually unique. And as such, while cultural civilisations may not be a cleavage that thoroughly defines the world today, nationalism seems to be one that could fit into Huntington’s theory instead. Given the unique nationalisms of the United States, China and Taiwan covered in the sections above, it also appears that what is happening in this triangular relationship is a conflict arising from diametrically opposed nationalisms, a ‘clash of nationalisms’ if you will. Figure 1 summarises the interactions between the nationalisms of the United States, China and Taiwan.  Figure 1. Interaction Between Nationalisms. The United States having built a national identity that centred on a higher calling to being a model nation and leader of the world sees its position at the top of the global hierarchy as sacrosanct. The reason why the concept of the ‘Thucydides trap’ has gained so much attention is because there is an inherent acknowledgement that no matter the ills that may plague the United States, it is unwilling to see the global primacy it has established after the end of the Cold War being challenged (Mazza, 2024). However, China’s ascendency on the back of its rapid economic growth and the fact that it managed to emerge from the 2007–8 Great Financial Crisis relatively unscathed has given life to the belief in the PRC that their anointed time has finally come. Driven by Xi’s desire to push Chinese ethnonationalism as a foundation for the PRC’s assertiveness in the international arena, the world is now witnessing a China that seeks to act like a great power, including a demand for regional hegemony (Mazza, 2024). Yet regional hegemony for the PRC set it in direct conflict with the United States as regional hegemony in East Asia would mean the United States having to pull back on its global primacy and cede control over the region where it has key allies like Japan and South Korea. And this is exacerbated by the anti-West element of Chinese ethnonationalism that holds the West, with the United States being symbolic of it, responsible for the century of humiliation and the country not being the rightful great power it should have long been. As the saying goes, one mountain cannot contain two tigers, the nationalisms of both the United States and the PRC are dependent on the countries fulfilling their self-perceived destiny of greatness which naturally puts them into conflict with each other and is reflected in Figure 1. Similarly, Figure 1 also shows how the nationalisms of China and Taiwan are in conflict. As mentioned above, Chinese ethnonationalism and the ‘China Dream’ are also about washing away the shame from the century of humiliation. Part of this humiliation stems from the losses to the Japanese in the two Sino-Japanese wars, of which the loss of the island of Taiwan serves as a reminder of and it is for this reason that Xi has made clear that reunification between Taiwan and the mainland is a core part of his ‘national rejuvenation’ (Sobolik, 2024). Yet, in Taiwan, the evolution and rise of Taiwanese nationalism have led to a strong Taiwanese national identity that rejects its relationship with the Chinese mainland; increasingly Taiwanese are rejecting the Beijing-led discourse of a common identity between them and the mainland Chinese, and polling shows an increasing majority of Taiwanese no longer identify as Chinese (Fifield, 2019; Wang, 2023). This sets up the two nations in a path for conflict, a worse-case scenario that experts are predicting gets ever closer, as Taiwanese independence is a redline for China that cannot be crossed, but any form of reunification for the island is incompatible with their unique and independent national identity (Kuo, 2022; Wu, 2004). On the flip side, the relationship between American nationalism and Taiwanese nationalism is somewhat complementary, as shown in Figure 1. In examining American nationalism above, we pointed out how much of American nationalism is driven by American primacy in the form of American exceptionalism. This exceptionalism has been shown to have a messianic fervour, with Badri (2024) arguing that this has led to America’s interventionist foreign policy since 1991. Yet this messianic fervour makes American nationalism the perfect complement for Taiwanese nationalism. As Taiwanese nationalism tends towards de-sinicisation and independence, it has also gone through pains to emphasise its democratisation as a key characteristic of its nationalism. This results in America becoming a natural support pillar for the objectives of Taiwanese nationalism, while America’s messianic tendencies lead it to want to support Taiwanese democracy. As a result, American and Taiwanese nationalism become complementary existences. However, that the nationalisms are in conflict do not necessarily explain the existence of the triangular relationship that has seen the Taiwan Strait become the geopolitical ‘hotspot’ that it is. In order to do so, it is important to remember that nationalism is a double-edged sword when used by governments (Gries, 2020; Tan, 2023). Since 2016, we have seen the respective governments in all three countries increasingly turn to nationalism to further their own agendas (Kuo, 2022; Restad, 2020). Trump won his first presidential victory on the back of his ‘Make America Great Again’ slogan, which implied that the greatness of the American nation had been allowed to wane by his political predecessor. In doing so, Trump had unleashed a torrent of populism built upon conservative American nationalism that centred upon how powerful and great the country was perceived at the end of the Cold War and the longing for a return to those days (Renshon, 2021). In China, Xi, as previously mentioned, turned to the concept of the ‘China Dream’ in his bid to secure the legitimacy of the CCP and his hold over power. In his elaboration, it was the preeminent task of the CCP to restore the past glory of the nation and thereby, turn the dream of a great power nation into a reality, which would aid in making life better for the Chinese people (Bhattacharya, 2019). The rise of Chinese ethnonationalism has been successful in legitimising the position of the CCP in the wake of the political turmoil of the early 2010s and increasingly we have seen assertive Chinese expressions of this ethnonationalism, be it in its ‘Wolf Warrior’ diplomacy or cases of Chinese international students in university campuses in places like Australia, United States and the United Kingdom who openly challenge their lecturers and peers who comment on issues like Taiwan and Hong Kong (Tan, 2023). While in Taiwan, the DPP under Tsai Ing-wen latched on to the anti-Chinese sentiment of the 2014 Sunflower Movement and harnessed Taiwanese nationalism and desire to exist as a sovereign people to win the 2016 presidential election from the KMT (Chen & Zheng, 2022; Clark et al., 2020). Since then, the DPP has increasingly relied on Taiwanese nationalism to secure itself electoral victories, as it provides a clear delineation on the Taiwanese/Chinese cleavage between itself and the opposition KMT, while also allowing the government to create a narrative that differentiates Taiwan from the mainland, and therefore rouse support for its cause for international recognition (Lee, 2024). In each of these countries, we have seen political leaders turning to nationalism for their own domestic agendas. However, using nationalism in such manner also means that there is a significant consequence when the desires and dreams of the nationalism cannot be fulfilled, especially for regimes that have built their legitimacy on said nationalisms. To that end, the escalation of tension in the Taiwan Strait becomes understandable. Taiwanese nationalism has led to Tsai and the DPP to insist on Taiwanese sovereignty, even without the need for actual independence, but this has crossed the CCP’s red line and Chinese ethnonationalism necessitates a reaction in the form of increased military activity. The United States, having been bound to support Taiwan due to the Taiwan Relations Act, and in part to reassert its global hegemon status, thus sees it as imperative that it continue to be involved in the situation in the Taiwan Strait, either through freedom of navigation movements or selling of arms. As each side escalates their foreign policy response to the Taiwan Strait issue, audience costs for the political leaders also increase. Having unleashed the forces of nationalism, any semblance that the political leader is contemplating backing down would have serious implications on the stability of the domestic regime. This is even more so given the looming economic challenges in each of the three nations. Conclusion Therefore, the triangular relationship between the United States, China and Taiwan is not merely a product of power struggles or ideological conflicts but a ‘clash of nationalisms’. The interplay of unique national identities, reinforced by domestic pressures, has intensified the geopolitical stakes in the Taiwan Strait, transforming it into a critical hotspot in global politics. In understanding this, we can therefore see how nationalism is in fact an important factor that influences the interactions of states in IRs theories. Declaration of Conflicting InterestsThe authors declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship and/or publication of this article.FundingThe authors received no financial support for the research, authorship and/or publication of this article.Cite: Tan, O., & Tan, A. C. (2025). 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Defense & Security
Conflict between China and Taiwan. China–Taiwan relations. 3d illustration.

Strategic Ambiguity or Strategic Clarity: China’s Rise and US Policy Towards the Taiwan Issue

by T.Y. Wang

한국어로 읽기 Leer en español In Deutsch lesen Gap اقرأ بالعربية Lire en français Читать на русском Abstract Observers have noted that Washington’s policy of ‘strategic ambiguity’ aims not only to deter China from attacking Taiwan but also to keep Taipei from taking actions that may be deemed provocative by Beijing leaders. Remarks and actions taken by former United States President Joseph Biden seem to place America’s long-held ambiguous policy in doubt. It has been argued that a clear security commitment from Washington is likely to bolster Taiwan citizens’ unrealistic expectations of America’s defence support and their calls for independence, which will certainly invite Beijing’s violent responses. Employing the theory of deterrence and survey data collected in Taiwan during the past 20 years, this article examines this argument. The analysis shows that the policy of strategy ambiguity remains crucial for the peace and stability across the Taiwan Strait. As China has increasingly turned itself to become a revisionist, Washington’s policy requires a recalibration, and the adjustment does not have to be a binary choice between ambiguity and clarity. Donald Trump’s return to the White House with his transactional approach to international affairs makes US policy towards the Taiwan issue less predictable, potentially leading to a volatile Taiwan Strait during his second term. Introduction One of the key aspects of US policy towards Taiwan since 1979 has been its ambiguous posture. With an objective of maintaining cross-strait peace and stability, Washington’s policy is based on its version of the ‘one-China’ policy, the Taiwan Relations Act (TRA), the three United States–China communiques and ‘Six Assurances’ (Congressional Research Service, 2024). Under this framework, Washington acknowledges that there is only one China and maintains an unofficial relationship with Taipei. The United States supports Taiwan with weapons of a defensive character and will ‘resist any resort to force or other forms of coercion that would jeopardise the security, or the social or economic system, of the people on Taiwan’ (TRA, Section 2(6)) but it does not clarify what would trigger an American military response. The deliberate uncertainty about whether the United States would intervene in cross-strait conflicts distinctively characterises Washington’s policy of strategic ambiguity. Former United States President Joseph Biden’s repeated security pledges to Taiwan since taking office in 2021 seem to place this policy in doubt. Biden’s response to a reporter of CBS 60-Minutes was unequivocal. When being asked, ‘So unlike Ukraine, to be clear, sir, US forces—US men and women—would defend Taiwan in the event of a Chinese invasion?’ Without hesitation, Biden replied, ‘Yes, if in fact, there was an unprecedented attack’ (Pelley, 2022). Although White House officials later repeatedly indicated that America’s policy towards Taiwan had not changed, Biden’s remarks generated a new round of discussion (e.g., Benson, 2022; Christensen et al., 2022) since this was the fourth time that the President made such a pledge.1 Critics point out that Washington’s deliberate ambiguity about America’s military intervention is not merely designed to deter China from attacking Taiwan. By intentionally being vague on its defence commitment, the policy also intends to keep Taipei from taking actions that may be deemed provocative by Beijing leaders (Bush, 2006). Survey data have consistently shown that few on the island are willing to be ruled by the Chinese Communist government and the majority would opt for independence if a war with China can be avoided (Hsieh & Niou, 2005; Wang, 2017). An unconditional security guarantee from Washington is likely to bolster Taiwan citizens’ unrealistic expectations of America’s defence support and their calls for independence. Because Taiwan is a democracy, the popularly elected Taipei government could take aggressive actions under public pressure, which will certainly invite Beijing’s military attacks and drag the United States into an unwanted war with China. Employing the theory of deterrence and survey data collected in Taiwan during the past 20 years, this article attempts to examine this logic with the following research questions: What is the logic behind Washington’s policy of strategic ambiguity? Why is there a call for clarity in the first place? And, what are the concerns about a policy of clarity? What would Donald Trump’s second term as the President of the United States mean for Washington’s policy on Taiwan? The Functioning of Strategic Ambiguity Fierce fighting broke out between troops led by the Nationalist Party (Kuomintang or KMT) and the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) on the Chinese mainland at the end of the Second World War. Under the weight of corruption, the KMT government suffered a disastrous military defeat and retreated to the island of Taiwan. As geopolitical tension mounted, Washington signed a mutual defence treaty with Taipei to contain the expansion of Communism. Several major battles were fought in the 1950s and 1960s across the Taiwan Strait. With America’s assistance, Taipei thwarted Communist military attacks on offshore islands held by Taiwan. The 1970s saw a shift in China’s strategy away from a reliance on the ‘military liberation’ of the island to a wave of ‘peaceful initiatives’ for China’s unification. However, Chinese leaders continue to regard Taiwan as a renegade province and have refused to recognise it as an equal and legitimate negotiating partner. Attempting to coerce Taipei into acceptance of the unification formula known as ‘one country, two systems’, Beijing has repeatedly warned that it would use ‘any means it deems necessary, including military ones’ (State Council of the PRC, 1993). Taipei’s loss of United Nations (UN) membership in 1971 and the normalisation of relations between China and the United States in 1972 signified Beijing’s decisive diplomatic victory. China’s growing importance in international affairs has led many countries, including the United States, to break diplomatic relations with Taiwan. After the United States and China established official ties in 1979, Washington has maintained an ‘unofficial’ relationship with Taipei. With an aim to maintain cross-strait peace and stability, the policy of strategic ambiguity was gradually articulated in the subsequent years and has become America’s key policy towards the Taiwan issue. In essence, strategic ambiguity is a policy of deterrence aiming to prevent a target state from taking unwanted actions. The deterrent effect is accomplished by the deterring state’s threat of taking actions that will potentially deny the target state’s expected gains or punish it to the extent that the costs of the unwanted acts exceed the gains it hopes to acquire. In order to be effective, the deterring state needs to show that it (a) possesses sufficient retaliatory capability to deny the fruits of unwanted actions; and (b) has the resolve to use the force so that the target state is persuaded that the threats are credible (Chan, 2003; Christensen, 2002; Wang, 2010). As the world’s only superpower, few countries can withstand the weight of American power if it were deployed against them. Washington has also demonstrated that it has the resolve to use force, as the 1995–1996 Taiwan Strait Crisis has shown. Triggered by Beijing’s military exercises and missile tests aiming to intimidate Taiwan voters on the eve of the island country’s first popular presidential election, the Clinton administration responded by dispatching two aircraft carrier battle groups to the vicinity of Taiwan. Although some may question Washington’s resolve due to the perceived decline of American power, wars in Iraq and in Afghanistan still serve as reminders of its resolve of deploying military might. Previous literature has demonstrated that credible threat is not sufficient to deter unwanted behaviour, as an effective deterrence also needs convincing assurance (Christensen, 2002; Christensen et al., 2022; Schelling, 1966). The target state will have little incentive to comply with the deterring state’s demand if it believes that it will ultimately lose its principal values. This is why various United States administrations have repeatedly assured Chinese leaders that Washington does not support Taiwan independence lest Beijing use force to realise its cause of unification for fear of Taiwan’s permanent separation from China. The flip side of this logic is to remind Taipei that America’s security commitment is not without conditions. The goal is to discourage Taiwan from taking aggressive actions towards independence, which will certainly provoke military attacks from China. Thus, the potential of taking actions to impose costs that outweigh the benefits of an unwanted action is a form of deterrence. The prospect of inaction can also exert a deterrent effect as it can raise the expected cost of unwanted acts of the target state. Washington’s ambiguous posture is said to have the effect of ‘dual deterrence’ (Bush, 2006). On the one hand, it deters Beijing from using military force against Taiwan since Chinese leaders are unsure if Washington would be involved militarily. On the other hand, it dissuades Taipei from pursuing de jure independence so that cross-strait military conflicts can be avoided. Through a web of incentives and disincentives, Washington’s strategic ambiguity has been praised as one of the most successful foreign policies as it has maintained cross-strait peace and stability for several decades. Why the Call for Clarity? If Washington’s policy has been effective, why are there calls for change? The answer lies in China’s revisionist behaviours, which have become increasingly assertive and aggressive. Indeed, deterrence diplomacy is effective only when targeted actors are conditional revisionists. Christensen (2002) provides a useful typology of different political actors for analysis. Countries like Japan, France and the United Kingdom (UK) are ‘unprovokable friends’ of the United States. They may be annoyed with Washington’s policies from time to time, like France’s fury over a submarine deal after Australia cancelling a multi-billion-dollar order with a French company and turning to the United States and the UK for a new contract (Sanger, 2021). The governments of these countries have no intention to challenge America’s fundamental national interests. Nor does Washington see them as potential threats. While deterrence diplomacy is not needed for unprovokable friends, there are also ‘undeterrable ideologues’ to whom the threat of deterrence is futile. Political actors like Hitler’s Germany and Osama bin Laden’s Al-Qaeda network are determined to pursue their political objectives and simply cannot be dissuaded. In addition to unprovokable friends and undeterrable ideologues, there is a third type of political actor—‘conditional revisionists’. They are willing to exploit opponents’ weaknesses in order to change the status quo but would refrain from taking action unless opportunities arise. Because the deterring state can hold the target state’s prized possessions hostage while at the same time provide convincing assurance, the latter has the incentive to comply with the former’s demands. This logic underlies the success of strategic ambiguity because, for much of the time since 1979, China did not possess the capabilities to directly or indirectly coerce Taiwan or challenge America’s deterrence policy. The world has witnessed a different China since the end of the twentieth century as the country has experienced rapid economic expansion. Figure 1 shows that China’s annual GDP growth rates between 1981 and 2023 generally ranged from 7.5% to 10%. With its enormous economic resources, Beijing has launched an effort to modernise its military. During the 20-year period between 1989 and 2010, as Figure 2 demonstrates, China’s military expenditures as a percentage of government spending were between 7% and 17%, far exceeding those of Japan, France and the UK. In addition to acquiring new weapon systems, the People’s Liberation Army has also developed anti-access area denial capabilities, raising concerns among American officials (Maizland, 2020; Olay, 2024). Such capabilities aim to neutralise the United States and its allies’ ability to project power in the Western Pacific region, including in the area close to Taiwan. Beijing, in recent years, has aggressively expanded its military presence in the South China Sea (Centre for Preventive Action, 2022), engaged in border disputes with India, and constructed military outposts in Bhutan (Barnett, 2021). China has also built numerous ‘re-education camps’ in Xinjiang, engaged in ‘serious’ human rights violations against Uyghurs and other Muslim minorities in the region (UN Human Rights Office of the High Commissioner, 2022) and imposed repressive responses to the pro-democracy movement in Hong Kong (Wang, 2023). With Beijing’s continuing alignment with Moscow after Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, Chinese leaders have shown to the world that they are willing to defy international opinions and forcefully assert their growing power inside and beyond China’s boundaries.  Figure 1. China’s GDP Growth Rate: 1961–2023.Source: World Bank Group (various years-a).  Figure 2. Military Expenditure by Country as a Percentage of Government Spending: 1989–2023.Source: SIPRI (various years). In this context, aggregated national power has increasingly shifted to Beijing’s favour over the past decades. Figures 3 and 4 juxtapose Taiwan’s and China’s gross domestic product and total military expenditures since the late 1980s. Prior to 2000, as Figure 3 shows, China’s annual GDPs were only two to four times larger than Taiwan’s, but the ratio has expanded to more than 10 times since 2008. By 2010, China overtook Japan to become the world’s second largest economy, far exceeding Taiwan’s economic productivity. Meanwhile, China’s military spending has been 10–20 times that of Taiwan’s since 2009, as Figure 4 demonstrates. After Chinese leaders invalidated their promises of a ‘high-degree of autonomy’ to Hong Kong under the unification plan, observers believe Taiwan is their next target (Lopez, 2022). Since Tsai Ing-wen of the pro-independence Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) was elected Taiwan’s president in 2016, Beijing has furthered its effort of isolating Taipei internationally and escalated its belligerent behaviours by repeatedly dispatching naval vessels and warplanes circulating the island and violating its Air Defence Identification Zone (ADIZ; refer to Ministry of National Defence R.O.C., various years). In recent years, Chinese leaders further heightened their military pressure by repeatedly launched live-fire drills in water close to Taiwan, frequently with a record number of military aircraft and naval vessels (Ng & Wingfield-Hayes, 2024). China’s rapid technological advancement also allows it to infiltrate Taiwan’s IT infrastructure (Lonergan & Mueller, 2022). These developments have led to a warning from United States Navy Admiral John Aquilino in 2021 that China could be prepared to take Taiwan by force by 2027 (Lendon, 2021).  Figure 3. Ratio of China and Taiwan Gross Domestic Productivity: 1991–2023.Source: World Bank Group (various years-b) and National Statistics, R.O.C. (Taiwan) (various years).  Figure 4. Ratio of China and Taiwan Military Expenditures: 1989–2023.Source: SIPRI (various years). Observers, therefore, have noted that China is no longer a conditional revisionist but has turned into a revisionist that has the ability and intention to change the status quo. Some in the United States argue that ambiguity is unlikely to deter an increasingly assertive and threatening China towards Taiwan. Instead, they maintain, ‘[t]he time has come for the United States to introduce a policy of strategic clarity: one that makes explicit that the United States would respond to any Chinese use of force against Taiwan’ (Haass & Sacks, 2020). This is a view that the Biden administration also holds. Characterising China as a revisionist with both the intent and the ability ‘to reshape the international order’, the Biden administration acknowledged that China is the greatest challenger to the United States and its allies (White House, 2022, p. 23). Because ‘we cannot rely on Beijing to change its trajectory’, it is upon Washington to ‘shape the strategic environment around Beijing’ (Blinken, 2022). Thus, supporting Taiwan and strengthening its defence capabilities are crucial for America’s response to China’s growing coercion. Observers also point out that Washington’s ambiguous posture, while aiming to discourage unwanted actions of targeted states, may lead to miscalculation and risky behaviours. Leaders in both Beijing and Taipei have ‘obvious incentives to misrepresent their true perceptions concerning United States resolve’ (Kastner, 2006, p. 662). The tendency is particularly strong for Chinese leaders as the equation that previously made ambiguity a feasible policy has changed. Rather than maintain stability, it is argued, ambiguity may contribute to cross-strait instability and drag the United States into an unwanted conflict with China. In addition, no response to a Chinese military invasion of a democratic Taiwan would damage Washington’s reputation as the guardian of democracy and create the perception that the United States is not a reliable partner (Schmitt and Mazza, 2020). If American allies in the region conclude that Washington can no longer be counted on, they would be likely to accommodate Beijing’s demands as a result. Alternatively, some in the region may band together to balance a rising China, leading to tension and instability in one of the most dynamic areas of international commerce. Both would threaten America’s interests in the region and hurt Washington’s global leadership. Beijing’s forceful takeover of Taiwan would mean that China could then project its naval power beyond the first island chain, directly threatening the maritime security of the United States and its allies. Taiwan’s autonomy has also become a vital geopolitical interest and a national security issue for the United States due to the island’s dominant role in the semiconductor manufacturing market. It is estimated that the United States and other countries would lose access to 85% of all leading-edge microprocessors if China were to invade Taiwan tomorrow (Fadel, 2022). Beijing’s threatening military exercises, after United States House Speaker Nancy Pelosi’s visit to Taipei and the inauguration of pro-independence Lai Ching-te as Taiwan’s president, further underscore the need of revising the policy of strategic ambiguity. There have been a number of developments in the first Trump administration reflecting the growing sentiment that Beijing’s revisionist behaviour needs a robust and unambiguous response, including an unambiguous support for Taiwan. These included dispatching cabinet-level officials and military officers to Taipei and selling a large quantity of advanced weapons to Taiwan. The United States Congress also passed the Taiwan Travel Act of 2018 and the Taiwan Allies International Protection and Enhancement Initiative (TAIPEI) of 2020. The former permits high-level United States officials to travel to Taipei and meet their Taiwanese counterparts, while the latter aims to assist Taiwan in maintaining existing diplomatic relations. After Biden took office in 2021, his administration has further pursued a coherent and comprehensive approach for ‘broadening and deepening’ United States–Taiwan relations. It includes inviting Taiwan’s de factor ambassador to the United States as an official guest to the presidential inauguration (Blanchard, 2021), dispatching a delegation to Taipei sending a ‘personal signal’ of support from the President (Brunnstrom & Martina, 2021), providing large packages of arms sales (Chung et al., 2024), strengthening bilateral economic ties, and re-confirming Taiwan’s status as a major non-NATO ally (US Government Publishing Office, 2022). All of these efforts aim to advance the island country’s security, prosperity and respect in the international community. The Biden administration’s efforts to internationalise the Taiwan issue have been further noted. Wording like ‘the importance of peace and stability across the Taiwan Strait’ was mentioned at the United States–Japan (White House, 2021b), United States–Korea (White House, 2021a), Japan–Australia (Prime Minister of Australia, 2022) and G7 summits (European Council, 2021). For the first time, the issue of Taiwan’s security has been included in the communique of so many major powers’ summit meetings, which shows the Biden administration’s effort of building an international coalition to constrain a threatening China that will benefit Taiwan. In this context, Biden has repeatedly vowed to defend Taiwan, indicating that the United States would intervene militarily in the event of a Chinese invasion, prompting many to speculate if Washington has changed its long-standing policy of strategic ambiguity. Issues with Clarity Critics point out that a policy of strategic clarity involves risks. Chief among those is a clear security pledge like the one given by Biden, which is likely to bolster Taiwan citizens’ unrealistic expectation of America’s defence support, which will then motivate the public’s calls for independence. Under public pressure, the popularly elected Taipei government could take aggressive actions and will provoke a violent reaction from Beijing. Meanwhile, the public’s overconfidence does not match America’s military actions that would support an ally or a friend (Benson, 2022). The Biden administration’s decision to provide Ukraine with security assistance but refrain from putting American boots on the ground clearly demonstrates Washington’s reluctance to undertake direct military intervention in overseas conflicts. Taiwan citizens’ impracticable confidence in the United States’ defence commitment may destabilise the cross-strait relationship and bring harm to the island country. Thus, some pundits consider Biden’s move towards a policy of clarity ‘reckless’ (e.g., Beinart, 2021). The above concern is a valid one. Figure 5 presents the trend of public preferences on Taiwan’s international status during the past two decades. The top two dashed lines show that roughly 15%–35% of Taiwanese citizens prefer the status quo indefinitely, and about one-third of them are ‘undetermined’ regarding the island’s future status in the international community. The middle two solid lines show that there is a small but increasing proportion of respondents prefer to keep the status quo now but move towards independence in the future, and that proportion has increased quite dramatically since 2018. An even smaller and declining proportion of them favour unification as a final goal. The bottom two dashed lines indicate that less than 10% of the island’s residents want to pursue immediate unification or independence. Taken together, the figure demonstrates that very few on the island want to be ruled by the Chinese Communist government as it is now. The vast majority of them want to maintain the status quo and prefer either a ‘kinder, gentler’ version of de facto independence, that is, maintaining status quo forever, or a permanent separation from China in the future.  Figure 5. Taiwan Citizens’ Position on Independence and Unification: 1994–2024.Source: Election Study Center, National Chengchi University (January 13, 2025). While Taiwan’s citizens prefer to preserve their democratic way of life, they understand the pursuit of independence will encounter violent reaction from China. Figure 6 shows that the majority of the public express a preference for de jure independence if cross-strait conflicts could be averted, but support for independence declines substantially if they believe that Beijing would launch an attack on Taiwan.2 Figure 7 also shows that 50%–60% of island citizens consistently believe that the United States will come to Taiwan’s defence if China launches an attack. The level of confidence is particularly high among supporters of the ruling DPP, which has a plank of pursuing Taiwan’s de jure independence. The above figures reveal that the public’s preferences over the island’s future relations with China are consistently conditioned by perceived risks. That is, they will refrain from declaring Taiwan’s independence if it involves such high risks as warring with China. The conditionality of Taiwanese citizens’ preferences indicates that, collectively, they are conditional revisionists; that is, they would refrain from taking actions unless opportunities arise. In addition, the public is highly confident that the United States will come to Taiwan’s aid if there is a cross-strait military conflict. Thus, strategic clarity is likely to further bolster Taiwan citizens’ unrealistic expectation of Washington’s security commitment as well as their support for policies that may be deemed provocative by Beijing leaders.  Figure 6. Support Independence With/Without War With China, 2003–2024.Source: Program in Asian Security Studies (Various years).  Figure 7. Taiwan Citizens’ Confidence in United States Security Commitment: 2003–2020.Source: Program in Asian Security Studies (Various years). The above findings appear to validate the concerns of proponents of strategic ambiguity, but a recent study with panel data collected on the island may alleviate such a concern (Wang & Cheng, 2023). Contrary to our expectations, Taiwanese citizens’ confidence in Washington’s security commitment has not increased but, in fact, decreased after Biden’s security pledges. The decline in confidence was mainly due to the pro-independence respondents’ shifting views. As noted, supporters of Taiwan independence historically have a higher level of confidence in America’s security commitment, which is cognitively consistent with their determination of pursuing the island country’s permanent separation from China. The war in Ukraine may be an awakening call for them as it demonstrates the Western hesitancy to undertake direct military intervention in overseas conflicts. The United States can have similar avoidance in a situation involving Taiwan. Despite Biden’s verbal assurance, actions speak louder than words. Pro-independence citizens’ shifting attitudes thus explain the declining confidence in Washington’s security commitment, which can also soften their calls for aggressive actions towards independence. Because panel analysis has long been considered one of the best ways of examining persistence and change of individuals’ attitudes, the results of the study are worth noting. Another identified pitfall of strategic clarity is that it signals what one ‘is prepared to take a risk for’ and ‘what one would ignore’ (Chang-Liao & Fang, 2021, p. 51). Given the heavy costs and uncertain outcomes, Chinese leaders are likely to avoid launching direct military attacks on Taiwan. Instead, they have employed and may continue to employ such ‘grey zone’ tactics as imposing economic sanctions on Taiwanese products, attacking the island’s information technology infrastructure, violating the island’s ADIZ and conducting military exercises for a de facto blockade. Without embarking on a conventional invasion of Taiwan that a policy of clarity intends to deter, these ‘low-intensity’ tactics can nonetheless have the effect of exhausting Taipei’s resources and eroding its resolve. Rather than discouraging Beijing’s aggressive and threatening behaviours, strategic clarity could undercut the effect of Washington’s deterrence policy. Such a criticism is also a legitimate concern, but it ignores the fact that Beijing embarked on grey zone approaches against Taiwan long before recent calls for clarity. This means that without setting a clear threshold for intervention has not stopped Chinese leaders from taking low-intensity provocations. China’s increasing clout and the perceived decline of America’s relative power seem to be the underlying factors to Beijing’s aggressive behaviour. Chinese leaders are apparently counting on Washington being ‘reactive and risk-averse’ (Sussex & Moloney, 2021). It will be incumbent on the United States to show its determination to confront China with coordinated responses. America’s policy of strategic ambiguity, therefore, remains crucial for cross-strait peace and stability, but it needs to be recalibrated. As China increasingly turns out to be a revisionist power, it is necessary for Washington to adjust its ambiguous posture in order to counter Beijing’s increasingly belligerent behaviour. The recalibration does not have to be a binary choice between ambiguity and clarity. Both policies can be treated as two ends of a continuum and can be adjusted accordingly. Given Beijing’s intense pressure campaign, Washington can step up its commitment to help Taiwan to defend itself for protecting democracy and America’s national interests. These measures include the development of a ‘porcupine’ defence strategy by enhancing Taipei’s asymmetric warfare capability, building military stockpile and forming an effective civil defence. Washington can also expand Taiwan’s integration with the international community lest Beijing employ its grey zone tactics to further isolate Taipei and deepen the island’s economic vulnerability. Ultimately, a successful deterrence policy will also depend on Washington’s convincing assurance that it would not support Taiwan’s pursuit of independence. Chinese leaders have a deep suspicion that the United States has a covert attempt to undermine China’s unification with Taiwan. America’s recalibration of its policy of strategic ambiguity is likely to be interpreted as a confirmation of their suspicion. If Beijing leaders believe that America’s policy will lead to Taiwan’s permanent separation from China, they are unlikely to submit to Washington’s demands. Trump 2.0 Donald Trump’s 2025 return to the White House for a second term as the president of the United States has added uncertainty to the policy of strategic ambiguity. Observers have noted that Trump is sceptical of the value of friends and allies as well as the benefits of international partnerships and alliances (Bush & Haas, 2024). Under the slogan of ‘America First’, he removed the United States from the Trans-Pacific Partnership (Lobosco, 2018), the Paris Climate Accord (White House, 2017, 2025a), the Intermediate-Range Nuclear Forces (INF) Treaty (Pompeo, 2019) and the UN Human Rights Council (White House, 2025b) and has mandated a comprehensive review of all international organisations to determine if the United States should withdraw its membership from or end its support for these organisations (White House, 2025b). He repeatedly admonished members of NATO, South Korea and Japan for not paying enough for United States protection (Reuters, 2024). His contempt for alliances and security partnerships has upended decades of American international engagement. In this context, two developments have direct implications for Taiwan. First, Trump has expressively suggested that the United States acquire Greenland (Erlanger & Smialek, 2025), take control of the Panama Canal (New York Times, 2025), and annex Canada as the 51st state of the United States (Colvin, 2025). His ambition for territory expansion has alarmed the world community3 and undermines an international principle that borders should not be changed through force or coercion. Trump’s threat regarding Greenland, the Panama Canal and Canada could potentially embolden Chinese leaders to consider taking Taiwan by force (Sacks, 2025). Second, unlike Biden’s emphasis on the defence of democratic values in his support for American allies, Trump has taken a transactional approach to international affairs. His dealing with the Russo–Ukrainian conflict is a case in point. The Trump administration has placed heavy pressure on the Ukrainian government to sign over a huge portion of its mineral wealth to the United States in exchange for helping the country to defend itself (Taub, 2025). Some speculate that Trump’s alignment with Russia represents a strategy of ‘reverse Kissinger’ aiming to counter China’s rise (Editorial Board, 2025). Though such a strategy may potentially benefit Taiwan, many on the island are nevertheless alarmed by the Trump administration’s approach to the conflict, questioning if they can continue to count on American support (Buckley & Chien, 2025). Because Trump has expressed his desire to negotiate a broad economic deal with Beijing (Swanson, 2025), the Chinese government may offer concessions on a trade deal in exchange for Washington’s positions on Taiwan without Taipei’s involvement. Indeed, Trump has expressed scepticism about Taiwan’s value compared to China (Llorente, 2024). He previously also questioned America’s ability to defend the island country (Bolton, 2020). Even though the State Department recently removed the long-standing phrase that ‘[w]e do not support Taiwan independence’ from its Taiwan factsheet (US Department of State, 2021), leading some to speculate if it represents a strategic shift (Tao, 2025), Trump’s dubious attitude about the island country was fully displayed in a previous interview. Speaking in a transactional tone, Trump argued that ‘Taiwan should pay us for defence’ because ‘we’re no different than an insurance company. Taiwan doesn’t give us anything’. He also complained that Taiwan had taken ‘almost 100%’ of the chip industry from the United States (Kharpal, 2024). In response to Trump’s inimical demands, by displaying Taiwan’s tangible value to the United States, the Taipei government has pledged to increase its defence spending to 3% of Taiwan’s gross domestic product (Office of the President, Republic of China [Taiwan], 2025). The Taiwan Semiconductor Manufacturing Company (TSMC)—the world’s largest chip manufacturer that produces the most advanced semiconductors—also announced plans to invest an additional $100 billion to expand its operations in the United States (Tang & Price, 2025).4 While the investment announcement was viewed favourably by Trump (Chung & Lee, 2025), it may be interpreted by Chinese leaders as a lack of resolve on the part of his administration due to Trump’s scepticism and versatile mindset. Given that credible threat is key to deterrence policy, the future and effectiveness of strategic ambiguity in Trump’s second term will be uncertain.ConclusionThe Taiwan Strait has been described as ‘the most dangerous place on Earth’ (Economist, 2021). A military conflict between China and Taiwan will have significant consequences. In addition to causing damage and human suffering on both sides, such a conflict could escalate into a direct confrontation involving two nuclear powers, threaten regional stability in East Asia, and undermine the prosperity of one of the most dynamic regions in the global economy. Washington’s policy of strategic ambiguity has been effective in maintaining cross-strait peace and stability for several decades, but a recalibration is necessary due to an increasingly powerful and assertive China. Instead of changing to a policy of strategic clarity, the United States can adjust its ambiguous posture through strengthening Taiwan’s defence capabilities and advancing its international integration. By assuring that Washington seeks regional peace and stability, not Taiwan’s independence, the effects of the deterrence policy can be maintained, and risks of cross-strait military conflicts can be minimised. Trump’s return to the White House nevertheless has disrupted America’s traditional foreign policy of promoting freedom and democracy. Although he has not clarified the administration’s position on America’s support for Taiwan, his transactional approach suggests that he might use the cross-strait relationship as leverage over Beijing. Washington’s policy towards Taiwan is expected to be less predictable, potentially leading to a volatile Taiwan Strait during Trump’s second term. Declaration of Conflicting Interests The author declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship and/or publication of this article.FundingThe author received no financial support for the research, authorship and/or publication of this article.Footnotes1. Biden previously provided such an assurance in May of 2022 (Kanno-Youngs & Baker, 2022), October of 2021 (Hunnicutt, 2021) and August of 2021 (ABC News, 2021). 2. The attempts to explore the conditionality of Taiwanese residents’ policy preferences include Hsieh and Niou (2005), Niou (2004) and Wu (1993, 1996). 3. There have been strong public reactions in Canada to Trump’s threats to make Canada the 51st state of the United States. 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Defense & Security
President Donald Trump announces the Golden Dome missile defense system P20250520JB-0081

Trump’s Golden Dome plan threatens to fuel a new arms race

by Julia Cournoyer

한국어로 읽기 Leer en español In Deutsch lesen Gap اقرأ بالعربية Lire en français Читать на русском The plan for an advanced missile defence shield over the US offers no guarantee of success and risks undermining global security. Last week, US President Donald Trump unveiled his $175 billion plan to build the ‘Golden Dome’: a coast-to-coast missile defence shield designed to protect the US against hypersonic, ballistic, and space-based weapons. But far from enhancing US national security, the initiative risks exacerbating global instability and accelerating strategic competition. The concept for the Golden Dome is ambitious. The proposal envisions a multi-layered defence architecture involving hundreds or even thousands of satellites in orbit, equipped with advanced sensors and interceptors, including space-based lasers. These would detect, track, and neutralize incoming missiles and other threats at various stages of flight. In both vision and rhetoric, the plans echo Ronald Reagan’s 1983 Strategic Defence Initiative, often referred to as ‘Star Wars.’ Like the Golden Dome, the SDI proposed a layered defence system that would rely on cutting-edge, and largely untested, technologies to intercept incoming missiles before they could reach US territory. But despite years of investment, the SDI never produced a workable system and was eventually cancelled, exposing the gap between ambition and capability that still exists today. The plan also draws inspiration from Israel’s Iron Dome system. But this comparison is misleading. Israel is much smaller than the US, and its Iron Dome protects the country from short-range, unguided rockets – threats that are limited in number, speed, and direction. Trump’s plan, by contrast, seeks to defend the entire US homeland from far more advanced and numerous threats, including long-range ballistic missiles, hypersonic glide vehicles and orbital delivery systems. The scale, complexity, and technical sophistication required are of a completely different order. Costs – and risks Despite Trump estimating that the system will cost $175 billion and could be built in just three years, the Congressional Budget Office has warned that the space-based components alone could cost as much as $542 billion to deploy and operate over the next 20 years. Fundamental questions remain unanswered: what the system will look like, who will build it, and whether it will function as intended. Investing the necessary resources to develop such an advanced system would require significant trade-offs that could come at the expense of other defence priorities.  The US does not currently have the full spectrum of technology it needs to intercept hypersonic or ballistic missiles in space, which would require interceptors or lasers capable of operating over vast distances with near-instant precision. Pursuing the Golden Dome risks prioritising an expensive and unproven system over more immediate and achievable capabilities, such as improving regional missile defences and cyber resilience to countering emerging threats like drones. The plan also has potentially dangerous strategic consequences. A system that aspires to make the US invulnerable to missile attack would almost certainly be seen by its adversaries as an attempt to undermine the logic of nuclear deterrence. If Washington is perceived to be developing a shield that could one day neutralize a retaliatory nuclear strike, it risks triggering a dangerous global arms race. Beijing and Moscow have already criticized the Golden Dome project as ‘deeply destabilizing’ and could respond with a range of countermeasures, including expanding their offensive arsenals or developing new delivery systems. This arms race could also incentivize the deployment of space-based weapons at a time when space remains dangerously under-regulated. The Golden Dome could therefore undermine global security, making the world a more dangerous place – including for the US. Leverage for diplomacy? Given these risks, the US should instead use the Golden Dome plan as leverage to launch renewed arms control diplomacy. Washington should use the proposal to reinitiate dialogue with other major powers, including Russia and China, on mutual restraint, transparency, and the governance of emerging missile and space-based technologies.  This is especially urgent given the deterioration of existing arms control frameworks. The last major arms control agreement between the US and Russia, the New START Treaty, was suspended by President Vladimir Putin in 2023. It is set to expire in 2026 with no successor in place. Despite China’s growing arsenal, arms control talks between the US and China were also suspended in July 2024 over US arms sales to Taiwan. Meanwhile, rapid advances in missile technology, space systems, and artificial intelligence are outpacing the rules and norms designed to manage them. As geopolitical tensions rise, so does the risk of miscalculation and escalation. The need to revive strategic dialogue is therefore more pressing than ever. While China and Russia may be sceptical of US intentions, the Golden Dome’s space-based elements could create a rare opportunity for renewed arms control dialogue on space security. This might not necessarily focus on warhead reductions, but on more immediate and achievable areas of shared concern.  Space security Space security is one of the most promising and necessary avenues for engagement. As nuclear-armed powers become increasingly reliant on space-based systems for both military and civilian purposes (from early warning systems and communications to navigation and surveillance), the risks of miscalculation or unintended escalation in orbit are growing. A pragmatic and urgently needed step would be to launch dialogue on the norms that should govern behaviour in space, including avoiding close approaches to satellites, limiting the deployment of certain space-based systems, or improving transparency. Even modest measures, such as agreeing to share notifications of satellite launches or discussing dual-use capabilities, could help to build trust and reduce the likelihood of conflict in orbit. By focusing on space, where interests overlap and mutual vulnerabilities are clear, the US could help to re-establish the foundations for wider future strategic dialogue.  Avoiding past mistakes In the 1980s, Reagan’s SDI consumed vast resources, heightened international tensions, and failed to deliver a functioning defence system. It also contributed to an arms race that left the world more divided, not more secure. The Golden Dome risks repeating those same mistakes, but with more players, faster technologies, and fewer guardrails in place. At a time when arms control frameworks are crumbling and global tensions are rising, the announcement of the Golden Dome should be seen as a strategic opportunity to initiate renewed discussions on space security. Framing the proposal as a starting point for dialogue, rather than a signal of unilateral ambition, could help to stabilize a dangerously volatile moment. Otherwise, the project risks pushing the world one step further towards a more contested, militarized, and insecure future.

Defense & Security
Cambodia in Focus on a Tilted Map.

Change of Course or Continuity? Cambodia at a Crossroads

by Grigory Kucherenko

한국어로 읽기 Leer en español In Deutsch lesen Gap اقرأ بالعربية Lire en français Читать на русском In December 2024, Cambodia reached a key point in its foreign policy. Japan delivered a group of patrol boats to Cambodia as part of the "Free and Open Indo-Pacific" (FOIP) regional initiative. This clearly showed that security cooperation between the two countries is growing stronger. In April 2025, Japan is expected to take another big step by becoming the first foreign country allowed access to Cambodia’s strategically important Ream Naval Base — a facility that has been upgraded by China since 2022.These events, happening just months apart, seem to show Cambodia’s effort to expand its foreign partnerships after relying on China for a long time. The handover of Japanese vessels, while China is leading the base's modernization, is more than just a friendly act from Tokyo. It is a smart move by Cambodia, showing how it is trying to use the rivalry between big powers to strengthen its own security and independence. But can Cambodia really protect its sovereignty by trying to balance the interests of powerful countries? Or is this idea of multiple partnerships just an illusion — hiding the fact that Chinese influence continues to grow? The answers to these questions may shape the future of regional security in Indochina. In August 2023, Hun Manet became Cambodia’s new Prime Minister, replacing his father Hun Sen, who had ruled for nearly 40 years. Unlike his father, Hun Manet has a Western education — he graduated from the U.S. Military Academy at West Point and earned a PhD in economics from the University of Bristol. His background gave some hope to Western diplomats that Cambodia’s foreign policy might move in a direction closer to their values. These hopes were partially fulfilled when Hun Manet’s first major foreign policy statement reaffirmed Cambodia’s commitment to diversifying its international relationships while strictly adhering to the principle of neutrality. This stance was particularly significant, given Cambodia’s longstanding perception among Western analysts as a pro-China state. For years, the Khmer elites have consistently voiced support for the PRC on the international stage, receiving in return substantial investment and infrastructure aid. However, these actions have occasionally strained Cambodia’s ties with neighboring countries — a dynamic noted by officials within the Association of Southeast Asian Nations (ASEAN), of which Cambodia has been a member since 1999. A striking example is the discord surrounding the South China Sea territorial disputes. When affected countries sought to use ASEAN as a platform to pressure Beijing, Cambodia opposed the effort, effectively blocking the adoption of a joint statement in autumn 2024 — something unprecedented in ASEAN’s 45-year history. With a few exceptions, the Khmer elites traditionally supported a policy of non-alignment during the Cold War and, afterward, a neutral stance on foreign affairs. Former Prime Minister Hun Sen himself emphasized that Cambodia seeks ties not only with China, but with all countries, considering this the most beneficial foreign policy path for a developing nation. Among Phnom Penh’s close partners is Japan, which conducts an active foreign policy in the region and stands as one of the Kingdom’s largest economic donors. At the same time, it is important to note that Hun Sen described relations with China as "unbreakable" and consistently rejected external criticism, highlighting only the positive aspects of Cambodia’s deepening ties with Beijing. In the first half of December 2024, Cambodia and Japan signed an agreement on the transfer of military patrol boats to Phnom Penh as part of Japan’s FOIP (Free and Open Indo-Pacific) initiative. Cambodia became the first ASEAN country to receive such assistance. However, the Kingdom has no intention of turning its back on China. The principle of neutrality, which underpins the country’s foreign policy, means that partnership with Japan does not contradict friendship with the PRC. Rather, the combination of the two reflects a strategy of multi-vector diplomacy, enabling Cambodia to benefit from relationships with a variety of partners. This approach is supported by several factors. First, Prime Minister Hun Manet has repeatedly affirmed his commitment to an "independent and neutral foreign policy based on the rule of law, mutual respect, and adherence to the principles of the UN Charter." In his words, this policy aims "to promote national interests, strengthen existing friendships, and build more solid ties." Second, Phnom Penh consistently accepts aid from all willing donors, including Australia through the Cambodia-Australia Partnership for Resilient Economic Development (CAPRED), the United States, Japan, and, of course, China. In 2023, marking the 70th anniversary of diplomatic relations with Japan, Cambodia elevated bilateral cooperation to the level of a Comprehensive Strategic Partnership. With this move, Japan joined a narrow circle of Phnom Penh’s strategic allies — a status previously held solely by China between 2010 and 2023 — advancing from basic diplomatic engagement and standard strategic partnership. Although China surpassed Japan in aid volume back in 2007, Tokyo remains a vital partner for Phnom Penh. Between 1994 and 2021, Japan implemented 210 investment projects in Cambodia totaling $3.1 billion. In 2024, bilateral trade between Japan and Cambodia reached $40.94 billion, placing Tokyo as the Kingdom’s fifth-largest trading partner. This robust economic cooperation underscores Japan’s strategic importance to Cambodia and highlights Phnom Penh’s efforts to diversify its international relationships, avoiding overreliance on any single partner. Despite Japan’s recent delivery of patrol boats to Cambodia, Phnom Penh’s most robust military cooperation remains with China. Between 2016 and 2024, China and Cambodia conducted six joint military exercises under the name “Golden Dragon” (នាគមាស), with each iteration featuring an increase in the number of troops, weaponry, and military equipment involved. Even amid the global threat of the COVID-19 pandemic in 2020, Phnom Penh proceeded with the fourth iteration of these drills, involving nearly 3,000 soldiers — ten times more than in 2016. [1]. The drills also included dozens of combat helicopters, armored vehicles, and various transport assets. This continuous military support from Beijing underscores Cambodia’s growing reliance on Chinese involvement in strengthening its armed forces. Meanwhile, after seven years of joint military exercises with the United States, Cambodia suspended this cooperation in 2017, officially citing scheduling conflicts due to national elections. However, in June 2024, during a meeting between Hun Sen and U.S. Secretary of Defense Lloyd Austin, Cambodia announced the resumption of military cooperation with Washington. Furthermore, the U.S. agreed to revive joint military drills and to once again accept Cambodian cadets for training at the U.S. Military Academy at West Point. For the United States, the primary point of contention has been the Chinese-built Ream Naval Base in Cambodia, despite Phnom Penh’s repeated assurances that the facility is intended solely for use by the Royal Cambodian Navy. Rumors about the base’s development first surfaced in 2018, sparking increased tensions between Phnom Penh and Washington. At the time, however, the U.S. lacked concrete evidence to formally accuse Cambodia of intending to host Chinese military forces on its territory, and American officials limited their response to diplomatic messages expressing concern. In August 2018, then-Secretary of State Mike Pompeo stated that he trusted Cambodia’s assurances that the base would be used exclusively by its own navy, and he praised the Kingdom for its “firm defense of national sovereignty.” In early December 2024, a U.S. Navy vessel arrived in Cambodia in the first port call in eight years — a visit made possible after a prolonged period of strained relations due to sustained American criticism of Cambodia’s human rights record. Cambodia’s Ministry of National Defense stated that the visit was arranged following a request from the United States and would help to “strengthen and expand the bonds of friendship, as well as enhance bilateral cooperation” between the two countries. *** In recent years, the Asia-Pacific region has become a stage for intensifying geopolitical competition, directly impacting Cambodia’s security environment and foreign policy choices. The strategic interests of major powers such as the United States and China increasingly intersect in the region, prompting smaller states — including Cambodia — to explore new pathways for safeguarding their independence and national security. In response to these shifts, Phnom Penh has sought to strengthen its defense capabilities and diversify international partnerships, as reflected in the agreement with Japan on the transfer of military vessels. This move not only enhances bilateral relations with Tokyo but also signals Cambodia’s intent to play a more active role in regional security affairs. Such involvement could enable Cambodia to navigate between competing global powers and maintain its independence amid mounting pressure from both China and the United States.Russia, as one of Cambodia’s traditional partners, may also seek to bolster its regional presence by intensifying diplomatic engagement and offering avenues for cooperation in defense, security, and military technology. This would help Phnom Penh better balance its external relations and maneuver between great powers more effectively. For Moscow, it presents an opportunity not only to deepen ties with Cambodia, but also to expand its influence in Southeast Asia and counter the growing presence of Western actors in the region. 1. Phan Thi Hai Yen. (2024). Cambodia's Strategic Embrace of China: Military Cooperation and Its Implications. ISRG Journal of Arts Humanities & Social Sciences (ISRGJAHSS), II(V), 191–198.