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Prolonging East Asia’s Surprising
Peace—Can It Be Managed?
By Avery Goldstein
Foreign Policy Research Institute, Aug. 14 2009
News of the first
Strategic and Economic Dialogue held between
the U.S. and China
dominated headlines last month. The Dialogue was focused on
"addressing the challenges and opportunities that both
countries face on a wide range of bilateral,
regional and global areas of immediate and long-term strategic
and economic interests," according to the U.S.
Treasury website. Putting this Dialogue in perspective may
prove helpful, as it builds on
more than a decade of mainly constructive Sino-American
relations and peace in East Asia.
Over the past fifteen years, prudent choices by leaders in Washington and Beijing have prevented inevitable disagreements
and conflicts from undermining regional stability.
East Asia's surprising post-Cold War peace, defying
the pessimistic predictions many offered in the early
1990s, has prevailed in large part
due to the statesmanship exhibited by
Chinese Presidents Jiang and Hu and American Presidents
Clinton and Bush. But leaders in both
countries continue to face formidable challenges that will
try their ability to manage
bilateral relations as China
rises within a fluid regional and international order. The
list of substantive issues that pose challenges
for Washington and Beijing is by now familiar,
and includes policy disagreements about
currency, Taiwan, human rights, Darfur, North
Korea, and the global environment.
In addition, however, contemporary
Sino-American ties face strains that
reflect underlying, perhaps more vexing, challenges.
Three challenges, in particular, are likely to persist
for the foreseeable future. How well Chinese and American
leaders cope with them will go a long
way to
determining whether the recent era
of East Asian peace endures.
Transparency and the "Security
Dilemma"
Experts often note the lack of any international authority above
states to enforce pledges they might make to reassure one
another. This condition of anarchy creates uncertainty about
the future that drives a pattern of
action and
reaction known as "the security
dilemma." Such uncertainty about the
implications of China's
military modernization has already had this predicted effect
and, in response, led to calls for greater transparency to
clarify a rising China's intentions.
Though it might mitigate the intensity of this security
dilemma, however, increased transparency would not eliminate
the underlying challenge it poses for U.S.-China relations
and East Asian stability in the 21st century.
Greater transparency would clarify the increasingly diverse and
sophisticated military forces China is
deploying; however, it would not eliminate the uncertainty that drives debates
about how China might use these forces. Weapons characteristics,
after all, rarely limit their uses to only defensive
or offensive purposes. Even if
the weapons
deployed today were believed to reflect
China's repeatedly professed defensive intentions,
a change in international circumstances
or domestic preferences could prompt Beijing's current
leaders, or their successors, to redefine their goals,
rethink the
uses for existing forces,
or deploy
different forces. Nor can this troubling
possibility be eliminated by crafting international
agreements designed to boost confidence
in assessments of intentions that greater transparency
might suggest. Because there is no reliable mechanism
for enforcing such agreements, even states that bind
themselves to reassuring commitments today will have the
option of behaving as they see fit tomorrow.
Simply put, transparency cannot eliminate worries whose
source is not a shortage of information but rather uncertainty
about the future that is inherent in
the anarchic realm of international
politics.
Nevertheless, this readily understood limit on the value of increased
transparency does not negate the benefits it can provide.
In at least two related ways, greater transparency can
help lessen the severity of
the security dilemma. First, it can reduce the incentives
for adversaries to rely on worst-case estimates which may
seem only prudent when lacking good
information about a potential
rival's capabilities. The consequences
of underestimating a prospective foe's strength are likely
to appear
more dire than
the consequences of overestimation. Overestimation, however,
feeds a cycle of action and reaction
that drives arms races. Leaders may anticipate that the result of
this kind of competitive arms buildup
driven by worst-case hedging will ultimately
fail to enhance, or may even undermine,
their country's security. If so,
they could
argue for self-restraint. But
that argument will rest on assertions about the strategic
interdependence of choices a state and its adversary will make in
future years, a stance likely to be a tough
sell in policy debates when it confronts
the more straightforward argument that it
is "better to be safe than
sorry." Increased transparency alone
won't guarantee that proponents of restraint carry the day.
However, it can provide information
that reduces the
likelihood that
unrealistically exaggerated worst-case estimates
of a rival's capabilities will drive an intense arms
competition.
Second, greater transparency, especially when
reinforced by
verifiable international agreements, can establish
baselines and expectations about future capabilities and behavior that reduces
the risk of overreacting to a rival's new military deployments
and actions. Without this information, surprise at
the discovery that a prospective adversary has
more, better, or more forward deployed weapons
than previously known or expected often adds a subjective
fillip of alarm to assessments about the rival's
capabilities and intentions that aggravates the security dilemma.
Where do leaders in Beijing
and Washington
come down on the
matter of transparency? The United States
demands greater
transparency, arguing
it is essential to alleviate suspicions
about what the Chinese are up to. But, as noted, even
if transparency increases, it will not
decisively deflate the anxiety reflected in variations of the questions that
former Defense Secretary Donald Rumsfeld
asked about China's military modernization: "Since no nation
threatens China, one must wonder: Why this growing
investment? Why these continuing
large and expanding arms purchases? Why these
continuing robust
deployments?" China's position on
transparency is quite different.
While making modest nods to clarification
in its recent defense white papers, China resists
revealing information that it believes would add enhanced
intelligence to the substantial military advantages the United States
enjoys. Because China must rely on clever tactics
and strategies to offset U.S. military superiority, it
already worries about U.S. reconnaissance technologies and
forward based intelligence assets that
monitor PLA
capabilities. Consequently, it sometimes takes risky actions
to signal unhappiness about U.S. naval and air forces gathering
information close to the Chinese homeland. In short, China
values opacity over transparency. Opacity complicates
U.S.
contingency planning; and China
does not need increased transparency to
clearly discern the superiority
of American forces it would engage.
These contrasting Chinese and
American perspectives seem irreconcilable.
Leaders in Beijing and Washington could, however,
recast their discussions about transparency by focusing
on the mutual benefits available to both countries through
reducing the intensity of a security dilemma that threatens
to cast a pall over East Asia. The
starting point is recognizing that the
United States overstates
and China understates the real
payoffs from increased transparency.
U.S. rhetoric exaggerates the benefits when it
suggests that transparency can
somehow eliminate suspicions about China's
intentions. China, in contrast, underestimates
the benefits of transparency and the costs it pays
for continued opacity-especially the nervous reaction by
the United States and others who
harbor Rumsfeld's concerns.
Leaders in both countries who
articulate more measured views about transparency's
benefits will be better positioned to explain how it
enhances national interests by reducing the likelihood of unintended
provocation. They will also be in a stronger
position to respond to domestic critics
who otherwise can seize upon high
levels of
uncertainty to demand
the greater military investment justified
by worst-case planning.
China's Rise and America's
Preponderance
Current economic difficulties in the United States, rapid development
by China over the last
three decades, and limits to U.S. military
power revealed in Iraq
and Afghanistan, feed
speculation about possible future U.S. decline.
The reality of the
early 21st century, however, is that unipolarity-especially
U.S.
military preponderance-endures. Yet
the expectation that China's rise could
eventually herald the end of unipolarity
poses another long-term challenge to leaders in
Beijing and Washington. So far, their
responses provide reason for both
hope and concern about continued peace in East
Asia.
In two broadly different ways, Beijing has been
hedging against the possibility that the United States might try to jeopardize
China's vital interests or frustrate its desire to
play a larger regional and international role. On the one
hand, American preponderance has led an
"outgunned" China to invest
in military capabilities that serve asymmetric
strategies. Thus, Beijing invests in
modernizing a still small, and vulnerable,
nuclear arsenal that poses a risk of
unacceptable punishment for any
prospective adversary endangering China's vital interests.
Beijing also
continues with its selective
development, testing, and deployment
of advanced nonnuclear weapons
that complicate U.S. planning for
contingencies in which it might confront China,
and increase the costs that the
superior U.S. military would pay even in
conflicts that China would be likely
to lose. Such responses to the unfavorable military reality
Beijing faces in a world where the United States remains
the sole superpower may reflect nothing more than prudent
planning by a cautious and conservative regime. Nevertheless,
because others, even if only out of prudence, question
what such steps might portend about
Beijing's future intentions, their predictable effect is
to deepen
concerns about a more powerful
China. As noted above, leaders
can try to manage, but cannot fully eliminate these concerns.
On the other hand, the daunting challenge of coping
with remarkably robust American preponderance has
also induced Beijing to embrace proactive
diplomacy as a way to reduce the likelihood that a concerned United
States and its allies might act to isolate or
contain China. China tries to encourage
them instead to recognize the advantages
of partnering with China, despite uncertainty about the future. The
enticement of trade and investment
opportunities in China, Beijing's
cooperation in the struggle against terrorism,
help in dealing with the North Korean nuclear problem,
and joint efforts to address global environmental, public
health, and economic concerns are some
of the
familiar ways in which China has sought to build a
favorable international environment for
its continued "peaceful development,"
as it rises in the shadow of a dominant United States.
Beijing acts
out of self-interest, to be sure, but its
diplomacy benefits others as
well. Indeed, China's approach
since the late 1990s has been largely consistent with
the U.S. interest, as articulated by Robert Zoellick, that
China become a "responsible
stakeholder" in the international system.
However, Beijing's new
diplomacy is only one facet of a rising
China's
response to American preponderance, and the prospects
for its continuation are far from assured. On the contrary,
it is easy to see pitfalls ahead. It is
unlikely that Beijing will sustain its commitment to act in the ways expected
of a responsible stakeholder on the world stage if it
becomes clear that doing so means indefinitely accepting the
lesser stake it presently holds, one
that entails deference to U.S. leadership of the
regional and international order. As
important, it is unclear that that the United States will
be prepared to satisfy China's aspirations
for significantly greater influence if that entails
a reduction in America's dominant position.
A smooth transition to a world in which a more
powerful China wields greater influence will
require the United States (and others) to embrace
new and unfamiliar roles. Such an adjustment is conceivable.
After all, it has happened
before. The process was managed rather smoothly when
Britain gradually yielded its leading role
to the
United States in the first half of
the twentieth century. In that case, however, shared
political values and culture, a clear recognition of the
emerging asymmetry in the two countries'
capabilities, and a common interest in coping with
dangerous common adversaries (first Germany, then the Soviet
Union) facilitated Anglo-American cooperation. In the
Sino-American case, there are
differences in political values and culture, uncertainty
about the future balance of capabilities, and no
compelling common threat requiring close
cooperation. Consequently, without creative thinking, dedication,
and flexibility from leaders on
both sides of
the Pacific, it is hard to imagine
a smooth adjustment to the greater international role
China
will expect to play. Hard work may
make it possible to discover solutions that satisfy
both Beijing's and Washington's
interests. Even with such hard
work, however, the process of adjustment undoubtedly
will be difficult.
Domestic Political Constraints
A rising China's foreign policy is
being shaped not just by the anarchic, unipolar
international system in which it operates,
but also by domestic political constraints. Among these,
one of the most
consequential facing leaders in Beijing is the
deep-seated nationalism that has taken root in
contemporary China.
Popular expectations that an increasingly
powerful China should be able
to more
effectively defend its interests
contribute to heightened sensitivity about other
countries' statements and actions that
can be construed as an
affront to nationalist sensibilities. Leaders in
Beijing have, as a result, found themselves constrained by domestic
political considerations in ways that one might
have thought irrelevant for an authoritarian
regime. These constraints
can make it difficult to strike the
compromises necessary if diplomacy is to serve as a buffer
against military conflict. Where contemporary
challenges are intermingled with the
legacies of an earlier era when a weak China was unable to defend its sovereignty,
attempts at pragmatism are complicated by the need
to satisfy nationalist expectations. Although China's communist
leaders are not accountable to a
democratic electorate, insensitivity to nationalist sentiment, some of which
has been nurtured by the regime's educational
and propaganda organs, risks disruptive popular protests as well as
challenges from like-minded elements in the civilian and military
elite.
The constraints that resurgent nationalism places on China's foreign
policy have been most clearly evident in
relations with Japan.
But the challenges that these passions present for
policymakers in Beijing
have also played an increasingly important role in
the management of U.S.-China relations after
the Cold War. A mostly stable era of bilateral ties has
been periodically punctuated by
tense confrontations. Resolution, in
these cases, has been complicated by popular Chinese
outrage about alleged affronts to the country's sovereignty,
interests, or pride. Although the specifics in each
episode have varied (the rejection of China's bid to host
the 2000 Olympics, the bombing of the Chinese embassy in
Belgrade, the EP-3 spyplane
incident, criticism of China's handling of ethnic
tensions and violence in Tibet and Xinjiang),
the general theme among China's loudest nationalist
voices has remained constant. They call
on Beijing to stand up to Washington, whose words and
actions allegedly reveal an insensitivity to the country's sovereign rights
and territorial integrity, not to mention
"the feelings of the Chinese
people." The advent of a less centrally
controlled, if still not free, Chinese
media combined with the variety of information sources and outlets for
the masses to express their views that the
internet provides, have magnified the political pressure confronting China's
leaders when they must respond to foreign policy challenges
that capture a more attentive public's eye. And because
the regime has typically been more
thorough in
censoring the expression of views
that question China's international claims and
interests, the sample of popular expression
that emerges during these episodes is typically skewed.
This selection effect reinforces the perception of support for strongly nationalist foreign policy
positions which can, of course, provide the regime with a pretext for digging
in its heels when it wants to stand firm. But it also
limits flexibility when Beijing prefers to defuse such confrontations
before they undermine its overriding interest in a
sound working relationship with Washington that is required
to preserve the stable international
setting essential for China's continued rise.
Can leaders in Beijing
and Washington
limit the risks that follow from
the consequences of resurgent
Chinese nationalism? Meeting this challenge
will be especially tough not only because of
the constraints China's leaders face,
but also because it is unrealistic to expect American leaders
to give priority to making life easier
for the
rulers in Beijing. American leaders
conduct foreign policy to serve
U.S.
interests and face their
own domestic political constraints. Public opinion and the voice given to it
through Congress and the mass media require American leaders,
no less than their Chinese counterparts, to be responsive
to popular pressures. Perhaps even more than other
challenges, then, surging Chinese nationalism is not a problem
that can be solved, but rather a vexing challenge that
can only be managed more or less
effectively to minimize its explosive
dangers. However unsatisfying, leaders
in Beijing and Washington can probably do no better than
to commit themselves to
refrain from stoking nationalist
passions and to recognize that neither side can fully
control their effects.
Realistic Optimism
Will Chinese and U.S. leaders
be able to prolong what has been a surprising era of peace
in East Asia after the Cold War
by continuing to successfully cope with the consequences of
the three broad challenges described above? Given their intractability,
pessimistic scenarios are certainly not hard to
envision. Nevertheless, there are reasons to
believe that tempered optimism is more than
wishful thinking or naivet,.
For the foreseeable future, China's
leaders will have their hands full dealing with major
domestic problems. These include
the need to ensure a brisk pace of economic growth while
reducing stark inequalities in income,
improving environmental protection, and providing
adequate health, education, and welfare
services for an aging population. Moreover,
it must do this while preserving
stability in an
anachronistic one-party political system
that governs an increasingly complex society with
many competing interests. These daunting domestic challenges will
continue to impose a burden on Beijing
that limits its ability to swiftly translate
even impressive economic growth into the military power
that would enable China to play a more
disruptive international role. A much more assertive
foreign policy
would require investing in military
capabilities and paying opportunity costs in terms
of economic development that would
jeopardize the political viability of a Chinese regime that
has struggled for decades to get its own
house in
order. That does
not preclude Beijing
from making such a dangerously foolish
choice. China
wouldn't be the first country
to do so. The Soviet
Union provides a dramatic example
of a regime that underappreciated the need to face up
to the "guns vs. butter" tradeoff. However, the clarity of
the tradeoffs for China (and the lessons that leaders in Beijing
have drawn from the Soviet failure) do argue against expecting
that it is likely, let alone inevitable, that they will
opt for a recklessly aggressive and
self-defeating
foreign policy.
It is far more plausible, then, that Beijing's leaders will continue
their pursuit of a gradually expanded international role.
And as they do, relations with the United States will continue
to be characterized by a mix of
conflict and cooperation conditioned by the
challenges described above. It is unlikely that Chinese and U.S. leaders
will be able to
eliminate these deeply
rooted, chronic sources of friction. That is almost
certainly an unrealistic goal. But it is also
unnecessary for prolonging the era
of peace in East Asia. Instead, the standard
for success should be whether Chinese and U.S. leaders can extend
their so far impressive record of discovering
satisfactory ways to manage the enduring
challenges to bilateral relations so that they do not
decisively undermine cooperation
and exacerbate conflict.
Continuing to manage challenges that defy resolution
would be an impressive achievement-the handiwork of
statesmen who recognize that the best need not be the enemy
of the good.
Avery Goldstein is
a Senior Fellow at FPRI and David M. Knott
Professor of Global Politics and
International Relations, Professor of Political Science,
University of Pennsylvania.
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