The Chinese threat is real and us calling them a threat does not cause war.

Several of my correspondents (including Messrs. Rowen, Swaine, Khalilzad, Menon, Ellings, O’Hanlon, and Wimbush) note that China could undergo fundamental domestic political change in the years ahead, perhaps becoming fragmented, chaotic, and weak or, alternatively, transforming itself into a functioning, stable democracy. In the first instance, China’s leaders might be deprived of the ability to challenge the United States; in the second, they would presumably lack the inclination to do so. I do not dismiss the possibility of serious unrest in China—although, for purposes of discussion, I did explicitly assume that the country would remain essentially intact over the next several decades. But what internal weakness might imply for external behavior is far from clear. As Enders Wimbush suggests, an unstable and unpredictable China could still pose serious problems for the United States. And there can be little doubt that a “failed” Chinese state would present its neighbors with enormous challenges: it could swamp them with refugees, cheap weapons, and pollutants, even if it no longer threatened to dominate them. And what of a mellower, more democratic China?1 This is an outcome devoutly to be wished, of course, but one that does not seem likely to come quickly or without considerable upheaval. Regimes in transition from strict authoritarianism to greater political openness have historically been prone to bouts of aggressive nationalism. As China’s elites compete more openly for power among themselves, and as they feel increasingly compelled to justify their continuing collective rule to the Chinese people, they may resort to antiforeign sentiment and even to external adventures as a means of mobilizing domestic support. Finally, it should be noted that, in its early stages, even a more fully democratic China could prove prickly, assertive, and difficult to deal with. Anyone who doubts this should consider the early history of the United States. The balance of power will balance. William E. Odom, Henry S. Rowen, Dov Zakheim, Rajan Menon, and Michael O’Hanlon all suggest that other Asian countries will join with the United States in order to offset China’s rising power. This is a strong possibility, and indeed there is evidence that it is already occurring. Continued movement in this direction cannot, however, be taken entirely for granted. The balance of power is not an automatic equilibrating mechanism. I agree with Alan Dupont that the willingness of other countries to cast in their lot with us will depend on their own estimation of our power, steadiness, and seriousness of purpose. How we act, and how well we counter Chinese efforts to raise doubts about our role, will be critical. As both Paul S. Giarra and Mr. Wimbush suggest, moreover, the solidity and permanence of our most important regional alliances cannot simply be assumed. Japan is in the midst of wrenching economic, social, and political changes that could well have a dramatic impact on its foreign and defense policies. North and South Korea are likely again to become one country, and perhaps sooner rather than later. A reunified Korea could choose to stay aligned with the United States, but it might also shift toward a more neutral stance or even “tilt” toward China. The new Bush administration faces few tasks more important than preserving close ties to our two key democratic allies in Northeast Asia. The Chinese military will continue to lag behind. It is true that, in almost every respect, China’s armed forces are today greatly inferior to those of the United States. But it would be dangerously complacent to assume that this will continue to be the case indefinitely. Although Beijing may have “other priorities,” as Mr. Rowen asserts, it does not follow that it “is not investing heavily in its military.” The exact scale of the expenditure may be a subject of debate, but there is little question that the PRC is devoting considerable resources to the various missions that I described in my article: building up theater ballistic missiles with which to intimidate its neighbors, strengthening its ability to strike directly at the United States, and acquiring the elements of an “anti-access” capability that could complicate and raise the costs of any American attempt to project power into the Western Pacific. China may be decades away from building a force that could challenge the United States at any point on the globe, if it even wishes to do so. But it may not be nearly so far from building one that would enable it to pose a serious threat to U.S. interests and forces in East Asia. Taiwan is the most obvious sore spot and danger point here. Whatever the objective balance of military power, there is also the ever-present danger of miscalculation. Instead of resting on our laurels, we should be closely tracking the Chinese military buildup and, equally important, gaining a better understanding of how China’s leaders assess the prospects for a successful use of force. If we fail to attend adequately to these tasks we risk some very unpleasant surprises. China’s economic diplomacy is neither new nor worrisome. Messrs. Rowen and Dupont both note that China is hardly unique in its efforts to use economic instruments for achieving strategic objectives. This is true, but it is also largely beside the point. The use of such instruments may not be an entirely new thing under the sun, but it is a new thing for China. The question is toward what ends, and how effectively, China will employ its newfound leverage. As I suggested in my article, a fast-growing China may try to use its increasing weight to constrict America’s influence in Asia, while at the same time reducing its own vulnerability to American economic pressures. Whether or not the Chinese will be able to carry this off remains to be seen. But the larger point is worth repeating: dealing with a strategic competitor that has significant economic cards to play will present new challenges to the United States. James R. Lilley notes that its economic links with Taiwan may have a restraining influence on mainland China. This is an important point and one that is often lost in abstract, general discussions of the allegedly pacifying effects of global economic interdependence. But the situation prevailing across the Taiwan Strait also underlines the plausibility of international relationships that mix a measure of economic cooperation with a strong strain of strategic competition. This too is something foreign to our recent experience. During the cold war, we became accustomed to the idea that the world could be divided cleanly into two camps: friends who were both our military allies and our principal trading partners, and foes with whom we competed militarily and traded hardly at all. Mixed relations, however, are far closer to the historical norm. To take one troubling example: prior to the outbreak of the World War I, Britain and Germany were among each other’s most important trading partners. Dealing effectively with China will require us to broaden our conceptual categories, instead of trying, as we have been doing for the better part of the last decade, to deny the PRC’s competitive behavior in order to squeeze it into the “friendly” box. Rivalry is not inevitable, but our actions could help make it so. Is an intense, open struggle for mastery in Asia inevitable? No, and I said so as clearly as I could at the beginning and again at the end of my essay. Although I believe that, especially in the military realm (and, in a more muted way, in the diplomatic and economic domains) a competition of sorts is already under way, I do not think it is somehow destined to accelerate or to blossom in all the ways that I speculate it could. Might we, through our behavior, make an intense rivalry more likely? To one degree or another, Victor D. Cha, Zalmay Khalilzad, Dov Zakheim, Richard J. Ellings, and Michael O’Hanlon all worry about the possibility of creating a self-fulfilling prophecy. Treat China as an enemy, says the conventional wisdom, and it will become one. There is something to this line of reasoning, though not, in my view, as much as is usually claimed. For one thing, there may be powerful internal forces—political, ideological, and bureaucratic—propelling China toward a more confrontational stance, regardless of how inoffensive and accommodating we try to be. China may become an enemy even if we redouble our efforts to treat it as a friend. Also deserving closer scrutiny is the notion that only by taking a soft line can we discourage aggressive external behavior and promote desirable domestic change. The history of our dealings with the Soviet Union during the latter stages of the cold war would certainly suggest otherwise (although the two situations differ in many respects). To the current Chinese leadership, we need to make clear the futility of stepped-up competition (to say nothing of overt aggression), while at the same time making plain to the Chinese people the benefits of continuing economic and political liberalization. It is for these reasons that I favor a mixed approach along the lines laid out by Mr. Khalilzad: continued trade and investment—albeit with renewed steps to slow China’s efforts to acquire certain key technologies—combined with serious, sustained, and unchecked efforts to strengthen our alliances, improve our military capabilities, and maintain a balance of power in Asia that is favorable to our interests. Engagement, yes; but from a position of strength. Is it possible, finally, that merely by talking and perhaps even by thinking about a full-blown Sino-American rivalry we may increase the probability of its actually coming to pass? This is the clear implication of Michael Swaine’s letter. Mr. Swaine worries that “ordinary observers,” unable to distinguish between descriptions of present reality and “hair-raising scenarios” of the future, will conclude that “an intense geostrategic rivalry is virtually inevitable, and . . . respond accordingly.” While I am flattered by the thought that my article could somehow change the course of history, I very much doubt that it, or a hundred more like it, will have any such effect. On the other hand, I am disturbed by the suggestion that we ought to avoid discussing unpleasant possibilities for fear that someone (presumably our political representatives and “ordinary” fellow citizens) might get the wrong idea. Acknowledging real dangers is a necessary first step to avoiding them, as well as to preparing to cope with them if they should nevertheless come to pass. Refusing or neglecting to do so, it seems to me, is a far more likely formula for disaster.