This commentary first appeared in Foreign Affairs.

North Korea has long been a source of instability, but a new development over the past year threatens to make things even worse: the country is teaming up with Russia. At a meeting in Pyongyang last July, North Korea’s defense minister, Kang Sun Nam, and his Russian counterpart, Sergei Shoigu, vowed to expand their countries’ military cooperation to “resolutely stand against” their “common enemy,” the United States. Then, at a September summit with President Vladimir Putin in Russia, the North Korean leader Kim Jong Un toasted the Kremlin’s “sacred struggle” against “a band of evil”—a reference to Western countries—and called Putin the “Korean people’s closest friend.”

The North Korean–Russian convergence goes beyond rhetoric. Russia has been propping up the Kim regime with food aid, along with fighter aircraft, surface-to-air missiles, armored vehicles, and equipment for ballistic missile production. There are signs that Russia is sharing its expertise, too. In July, North Korea conducted a test launch of a technologically sophisticated intercontinental ballistic missile, and in November, it managed to send its first military reconnaissance satellite into orbit after several failed attempts.

The transfer of critical supplies goes both ways. North Korea is sending Russia much-needed artillery shells to use in its war in Ukraine, with U.S. officials confirming in October that more than 1,000 containers of arms had arrived in Russia by ship and by train. Pyongyang’s equipment is hardly world-class—its shells have a 20 percent failure rate, whereas most advanced U.S. munitions have failure rates in the low single digits—but many of North Korea’s missiles are difficult for Ukraine to defend itself against because they are long-range, which allows Russian forces to fire from deep within their own territory, and low-tech, which helps them evade detection. North Korean military assistance could therefore be decisive in Russia’s campaign to halt Ukrainian troops’ progress. For Pyongyang, meanwhile, the arms transfer is an opportunity to test its wares in battle.

In addition to undermining U.S. and allied efforts to defend Ukraine, expanding North Korean–Russian cooperation threatens to destabilize the Korean Peninsula. On January 5, less than a week after reports emerged that Russia had launched its first North Korean–made ballistic missiles into Ukraine, North Korea fired hundreds of artillery rounds into the sea near its disputed border with South Korea. On January 14, North Korea conducted its first intermediate-range ballistic missile test of the year and formally announced that it no longer considered South Korea a “partner of reconciliation and reunification” but an enemy that had to be conquered—through nuclear war, if necessary.

As if this were not enough, China is playing a counterproductive role. Beijing’s security relationship with Russia has deepened: Russia has provided critical weapons and defense-industrial expertise to China, and the two countries are engaging in more frequent and sophisticated joint military exercises. Beijing, in effect, has sanctioned a larger Russian military role in Asia and provided the political cover and economic lifeline Putin needs to continue fighting in Ukraine. China has also shielded North Korea from international sanctions and pressure designed to force Kim to give up his nuclear weapons program. There is historical precedent for the three countries’ working together, too. During the Cold War, China, North Korea, and Russia were all committed to “opposing imperialism”—code for their anti-Western activities. Their cooperation facilitated conflict around the world, including in eastern Europe, on the Korean Peninsula, and across the Taiwan Strait.

The good news, however, is that this trilateral alignment turned out poorly for all three countries during the Cold War—and if the United States plays its cards right, it can fail this time around, too. Chinese and Soviet backing helped North Korea fight South Korea and its allies to a draw, leading to an armistice agreement in 1953, but subsequent decades of poverty and international pariah status can hardly be considered a victory for Pyongyang. As for Beijing and Moscow, cooperation soon gave way to the Sino-Soviet split and the eventual collapse of the Soviet Union. Although today’s circumstances are different, familiar signs of unease are already visible among China, North Korea, and Russia—rifts the United States can exploit.

An Unstable Triangle
 

China, North Korea, and the Soviet Union’s falling out over the course of the 1950s is instructive. The decade began with the two larger powers, China and the Soviet Union, committed to each other’s security and to supporting other communist countries, including North Korea. In 1950, Beijing and Moscow signed an alliance agreement vowing mutual defense in the event of an attack and pledging to coordinate their activities against the West. Both supported Kim Il Sung, the founding father of North Korea and the grandfather of Kim Jong Un, in his bid to attack South Korea the same year. When China sent its own forces into the brutal fighting on the Korean Peninsula, the Soviet Union backed the Chinese effort with military aid and expertise. 

But this cooperation was not to last. After the death of the Soviet leader Joseph Stalin in 1953, his successor, Nikita Khrushchev, introduced political reforms and pursued “peaceful coexistence” with the United States. The Soviet Union’s pivot threatened to undermine the Chinese leader Mao Zedong’s domestic project, which emulated Stalin’s harsh governance. Meanwhile, Chinese attacks on Taiwanese-controlled islands, China’s 1962 border war with India, and the Great Leap Forward—Beijing’s disastrous economic and social program of that period—elicited contempt in Moscow. Mao’s personal jabs at the Soviet leadership did not help matters, either. By 1960, the Soviet Union had canceled 12 aid agreements and roughly 200 science and technology projects in China.

Back then, as now, Beijing and Moscow were revisionist great powers with limited willingness to advance the other’s ambitions. Both expected more from a partnership than mere protection. Beijing sought financial assistance for its defense-industrial base and political support to lend legitimacy to the regime. Moscow wanted to lead an ever-expanding communist bloc and to secure China’s help in undermining the United States’ position in Asia. Although the two sides shared many of the same interests, their priorities differed. And they would clash over tactics, especially when it came to dealing with third parties. Beijing and Moscow disagreed, for instance, about how to respond to Polish and Hungarian resistance against Soviet control in 1956: Mao even warned that China would support Poland if the Soviet Union dispatched troops to quell the unrest. 

Chinese and Soviet leaders weighed the benefits and risks of teaming up. Great powers can use alliances to strengthen their militaries and enhance their deterrence, but forming a partnership can also provoke a potential adversary or draw one of the great powers, against its wishes, into its ally’s disputes. During the 1950s, for example, Soviet leaders grew concerned that China’s dispute with Taiwan would undermine their plans to discuss détente with the United States. 

Similar stresses could now be opening fissures between China and its partners. Closer cooperation between North Korea and Russia has highlighted a fundamental tension in Russia’s relationship with China: unlike Pyongyang, Beijing has been unwilling to aid Moscow’s war effort directly. Russia’s requests for military equipment and aid from China have gone unanswered. (Russian officials have claimed that China secretly agreed to provide lethal weapons, but U.S. assessments have found no evidence that this is true.) Beijing’s official stance on the war in Ukraine is to remain neutral. It has called for de-escalation, reiterated its opposition to the use of nuclear weapons, and affirmed the sovereignty of all nations. None of China’s statements have contained explicit rebukes of Russia, but they have not expressed full-throated support, either. The fact that Russia had to turn to North Korea for aid shows how little material assistance Moscow is receiving from Beijing. In the immediate term, Russia has no choice but to take what help it can get, but eventually the discovery that its “no limits” partnership with China does, in fact, have limits may force a reckoning with the risks of relying on Beijing. 

For China’s part, the North Korean–Russian relationship undermines Beijing’s influence on the Korean Peninsula. With no indication of having consulted China, Russia opted to ignore United Nations trade sanctions (which both China and Russia had signed on to) and sell North Korea the advanced military technology its leaders have long desired. Now that Russia is willing to provide benefits that China will not, Pyongyang is turning closer to Moscow, and Beijing has lost significant leverage. To be sure, China is still North Korea’s largest trading partner. And even when North Korea was almost wholly dependent on China, Kim sometimes felt free to dismiss Chinese leaders’ preferences. But Russian support gives Pyongyang a stronger hand to take action that could impede Beijing’s regional and global ambitions. For example, Beijing will not want North Korea—or Russia, for that matter—to jeopardize its attempts to unify Taiwan with mainland China. But a crisis on the Korean Peninsula could spoil China’s plans by driving the United States and its allies toward deeper defense integration, just as the North’s 1950 invasion of the South pushed the United States to rethink its security interests in the region and sign a defense pact with Taiwan in 1954.

The most damning consequence of North Korea’s military cooperation with Russia may be that it is damaging China’s broader diplomatic and security environment. An emboldened North Korea and an aggressive Russia do nothing to improve China’s image or help it compete with the United States. Nothing unites U.S. allies more than shared concerns about North Korean or Russian belligerence. And as a partner of both countries, China is expected to use its own political capital to solve the problems they cause. At a December summit with EU leaders in Beijing, for example, Chinese officials wanted to focus on long-term plans for bilateral relations and caution against a European “de-risking” strategy that threatens China’s technological ambitions and economic interests. But the European delegation instead opened the talks by urging China to leverage its economic influence over Russia “to put an end to the Russian aggression against Ukraine.” 

China has long regarded a trilateral alliance among Japan, South Korea, and the United States as a critical threat to its security, even seeking guarantees from Seoul and Tokyo that they would not enter such a pact. Part of the case Beijing is making to reassure both capitals is that China is prepared to serve as the “stabilizer” of Northeast Asia—a message it repeated in a meeting with Japanese and South Korean officials after North Korea launched its spy satellite in November. At the same meeting, South Korean Foreign Minister Park Jin urged Chinese Foreign Minister Wang Yi to encourage North Korea to halt its provocations and pursue denuclearization. But China’s commitment to playing “a constructive role” could amount to little if North Korea, bolstered by Russia, does not respond to Beijing’s overtures. At a certain point, even if other countries in the region do not see China as complicit in North Korea’s bellicose actions, Japan, South Korea, and the United States are bound to make defense decisions that will be unwelcome in Beijing.

China, recognizing the danger of being grouped with North Korea and Russia, has tried to publicly distance itself from the two countries. In late January, Liu Pengyu, the spokesperson for the Chinese embassy in Washington, told Voice of America that he was “unaware” that North Korea and Russia were cooperating on military matters. China has also denied playing any role in the two countries’ recent collaboration. In line with that claim, when Moscow suggested that North Korea join Chinese-Russian naval drills in September, Beijing did not respond. The official Chinese media has also downplayed the idea of a trilateral alliance among China, North Korea, and Russia. In China’s telling, such a partnership is “concocted” by Western media to justify closer military cooperation among Japan, South Korea, and the United States and generate a Cold War mindset by framing regional politics in terms of two opposing blocs. Beijing still sees real, if limited, benefits from its relationships with North Korea and Russia, but it is clearly concerned that Moscow and Pyongyang’s actions will do China more harm than good.

Let the Chips Fall

The United States and its allies can encourage fissures in the emerging autocratic bloc, but they must proceed with caution. Erecting obstacles is the wrong approach. Taking a page from history, Washington should recognize that China, North Korea, and Russia will sabotage their triangular alignment all on their own. During the Korean War, for instance, Soviet air support for Chinese forces was not forthcoming despite promises from Moscow, and in the 1960s, the Soviet Union reneged on commitments to lend its nuclear expertise to China. Moscow’s continued reluctance to support Beijing, let alone extend security assistance, in times of crisis was a major contributor to the Sino-Soviet split.

Recently, the war in Ukraine provided a perfect opportunity for China to disappoint its partner by refusing to fully back Russia’s military campaign. But the Biden administration squandered that opportunity by threatening China with “consequences” should it assist the Russian war effort and by adding Chinese companies that it asserted were supporting the Russian military to a trade blacklist. Even without these warnings, Beijing would have been unlikely to provide significant aid. Now, however, Beijing can contain the damage to its relationship with Moscow by blaming the United States for China’s failure to help a friend. If Washington had left the issue alone or confined its threats to private channels, China and Russia’s disagreement might have snowballed into an even larger rift.

The best way for the United States to counter the Chinese-Russian alignment is by using it to rally U.S. allies and partners. Shared perceptions of a threat create a fertile environment for deepening alliances and breaking ground on new areas of defense cooperation. Such a mindset has already allowed Japan and South Korea to look past their historic animosities and work together more closely than ever before. Each country decided to reinstate the other’s preferred trade partner status last spring, and in December they resumed high-level economic talks after an eight-year hiatus. U.S. allies in Europe that were previously reluctant to push back against Beijing may also change their minds as they come to see China and Russia as a unified threat—perhaps enough to persuade them to help the United States deter Chinese aggression in Asia. China has been reluctant to support Russia’s military and political goals in Europe in part because Beijing values its economic relationships with European countries. If those countries join the United States in taking a harder line on China, Beijing may conclude that an association with Russia and its disruptive tactics comes with too high a cost.

For now, coordination between North Korea and Russia makes it harder for the United States and its allies to compel either country to leave behind its revisionist, aggressive tendencies and assume a constructive role in the international community. But if their relationship sufficiently threatens China, Beijing may choose to distance itself from both Moscow and Pyongyang. It might even go so far as to try to push North Korea and Russia apart. The United States and its allies were not the primary reason for the Sino-Soviet split during the Cold War, and they will not be the cause of the next Chinese-Russian rift—but they can make the most of the regional dynamics hastening a divide.

This commentary originally appeared in The New York Times.

For a half-century, America has avoided war with China over Taiwan largely through a delicate balance of deterrence and reassurance.

That equilibrium has been upset. China is building up and flexing its military power; hostile rhetoric emanates from both Beijing and Washington. War seems likelier each day.

It’s not too late to restore the kind of balance that helped to keep the peace for decades, but it will require taking steps to ease China’s concerns. This will be difficult because of Chinese intransigence and the overheated atmosphere prevailing in Washington. But it is worth the political risk if it prevents war.

Deterrence came in the form of the implied use of U.S. military force to thwart a Chinese attack on Taiwan. Reassurance was provided by the understanding that the United States would not intrude on decisions regarding Taiwan’s eventual political status.

The United States and its regional allies must continue to create a robust military deterrence. But U.S. leaders and politicians also need to keep in mind the power of reassurance, try to understand China’s deep sensitivities about Taiwan and should recommit — clearly and unequivocally — to the idea that only China and Taiwan can work out their political differences, a stance that remains official U.S. policy.

During the Cold War, Beijing and Washington signed a series of communiqués related to Taiwan. One of them said the United States “reaffirms its interest in a peaceful settlement of the Taiwan question by the Chinese themselves.” This and other wording was deliberately ambiguous, but it was accepted by all sides as a commitment to avoid rocking the boat. China still views this arrangement as binding.

To be clear, it was China that began rocking the boat first.

Since 2016, when Tsai Ing-wen of the independence-leaning Democratic Progressive Party was elected president of Taiwan (succeeding a more China-friendly administration), Xi Jinping has repeatedly brandished China’s military power with large-scale military exercises and other pressure tactics apparently meant to discourage independence sentiment on Taiwan.

U.S. political figures have rightly responded with rhetorical support for democratic Taiwan, by supplying it with weapons and by strengthening the U.S. military presence in the region. But the American reaction is also pouring fuel on the fire.

I have worked on U.S. defense strategy in various military roles for more than a decade. I recently traveled to Beijing, where I met with Chinese government and military officials, leading academics and experts from Communist Party-affiliated think tanks. During these talks it was clear that Beijing is far less concerned with U.S. efforts to enhance its military posture in the region — the deterrence side of the equation — than with the political rhetoric, which is seen in China as proof that the United States is moving away from past ambiguity and toward supporting Taiwan’s de facto independence.

They have plenty of evidence to point to.

In December 2016, Donald Trump became the first U.S. president or president-elect since the normalization of China-U.S. relations in 1979 to speak directly with a Taiwanese leader, when Ms. Tsai called to congratulate him on his election victory. President Biden has, on four occasions, contradicted the U.S. policy of ambiguity by saying we would support Taiwan militarily if China attacked. The number of U.S. Congress members visiting Taiwan — which China views as overt support for the island’s independence — reached a decade high last year, including an August 2022 trip by Nancy Pelosi, the speaker of the House at the time and the highest-ranking U.S. official travel to Taiwan since the 1990s. That has continued this year: In June a nine-member congressional delegation, the largest in years, arrived in Taipei.

Provocative legislation has not helped. Last year the Taiwan Policy Act, which articulated support for Taiwan’s role in international organizations, was introduced in the Senate, and in July of this year the House passed a similar act. House Republicans introduced a motion in January to recognize Taiwan as an independent country.

Actions like these put great pressure on Mr. Xi, who won’t tolerate going down in history as the Chinese leader to have lost Taiwan. That would be seen in Beijing as an existential threat, potentially fueling separatist sentiment in restive regions like Tibet and Xinjiang.

For now, lingering doubts over Chinese military capabilities and the specter of U.S. and allied retaliation are enough to restrain Mr. Xi. But if he concludes that the United States has broken, once and for all, from its previous position on Taiwan and is bent on thwarting unification, he may feel that he must act militarily. The United States might be able to build the necessary military power in the region to deter a Chinese war of choice. But the level of dominance needed to stop Mr. Xi from launching a war he sees as necessary might be impossible to achieve.

Reassuring China would require Mr. Biden to reiterate that the United States does not support Taiwanese independence or oppose the island’s peaceful unification with China and that, ultimately, Taiwan’s fate is up to Taipei and Beijing. It would mean moving away from attempts to create international space for Taiwan and chastising Beijing when it pulls away Taipei’s diplomatic partners. The White House would also need to use what leverage it has to discourage members of Congress from visiting Taiwan and threaten to veto provocative legislation.

There would doubtless be blowback in Washington and Taipei, and Mr. Xi may already have made up his mind to seize Taiwan, regardless of the U.S. stance. But a politically neutral position on Taiwan is what the United States has followed for decades. Presidents Bill Clinton, Barack Obama and George H.W. and George W. Bush advocated peaceful dialogue between Taipei and Beijing to resolve their differences.

There also are longer-term repercussions to consider: If the combination of deterrence and reassurance fails and China attacks Taiwan, it will set a precedent in which Chinese leaders kill and destroy to achieve their goals. But if a pathway remains for China to eventually convince Taiwan’s people — through inducements or pressure — that it is in their interest to peacefully unify, then that may be a China that we can live with.

In the best-case scenario, the United States and China would reach a high-level agreement, a new communiqué, in which Washington reiterates its longstanding political neutrality and China commits to dialing back its military threats. This would avert war while giving China political space to work toward peaceful unification. That might mean using its clout to isolate Taiwan and eventually convince the island’s people that it should strike a deal with Beijing. But it isn’t Washington’s place to prevent the unification of the two sides — only to ensure that doesn’t happen through military force or coercion.

A war between the United States and China over Taiwan could be the most brutal since World War II. As politically difficult as it may be, U.S. leaders have a duty to try to prevent conflict, and that means speaking more softly but carrying a big stick.

This commentary first appeared as part of the Center for Strategic and International Studies (CSIS) Interpret:China series. 

Tensions at the Taiwan Strait are at an all-time high. Speaker of the House Nancy Pelosi’s recent visit marked the highest level of exchange between U.S. and Taiwanese officials since 1997. China used the visit as a pretext to conduct large-scale military exercises encircling the island, coupled with rhetoric about how it could successfully use force to unify if it decided to do so.

The dynamics between China and the United States over Taiwan are eerily like those laid out in Zuo Xiying’s balanced, informative article. Zuo accurately captures the U.S. deterrence strategy toward Russia before its invasion of Ukraine—highlighting key components such as threatening economic sanctions and international isolation, as well as providing training and equipment to Ukraine to enhance its ability to defend itself. But deterrence failed, the reasons (according to Zuo) being that the United States did not do more to reassure Russia of its peaceful intentions and that ultimately costs are difficult to calculate ahead of time. Once war broke out, as Zuo also points out, the United States escalated its involvement by providing military aid to Ukraine, which increased the costs of the war to Russia.

What does all this mean for U.S. deterrence strategy with respect to Taiwan? Zuo recognizes that “for China, the Russia-Ukraine conflict acts as a mirror. . . . China needs to not only study in depth how the United States deters and how it punishes Russia, but also to carefully analyze how Russia perceives the United States’ threats and to derive experience and lessons from therein.” But he leaves the reader wondering what those lessons are. He hints in his discussion on Ukraine that a U.S. strategy to build up Taiwan’s defenses is unlikely to deter China; however, he also indirectly suggests that China may be underestimating the costs of war. Successful deterrence, Zuo notes, “requires not only that the United States itself has powerful forces and strong resolve but that it can make the other side accurately feel the threat and have an accurate calculation of the costs and benefits. But the real world is complicated, and it is difficult to have both conditions present at once.” In other words, he thinks there is an intermediate step needed in a deterrence strategy. The United States has to not only issue a credible threat, but also make the other side accurately assess the costs and benefits of certain actions.

Zuo does not seem optimistic. He implies the United States needs to increase efforts to paint a more specific picture of what it would do if war broke out—but that, even if it did, the message still might not get through. The reader is left with an acute understanding that if there is war over Taiwan, failures in both Beijing and Washington will be to blame.

Impacts on Russia, Ukraine, and Beyond

Michael McFaul

The implications of the 72-hour mutiny will last much longer and extend much further beyond Rostov and Moscow, says FSI Director and former U.S. ambassador to Russia Michael McFaul.

Speaking with Madeline Brand of KRCW, McFaul outlined the difficult situation Putin now finds himself in.

“This whole series of events has made Putin look a lot weaker than he looked three or four days ago. The very fact that the Wagner group exists is a sign of weakness. Putin needs them because he couldn’t rely on his armed forces.”

Elaborating further on Putin’s dilemma, McFaul says:

“As those mercenaries were getting closer to Moscow, Putin went on TV and sounded very macho, calling Prigozhin’s men traitors and promising to crush them, but then four hours later, he capitulates and starts to negotiate. And now he’s given another speech where it sounds like he’s pleading with these mercenaries to lay down their weapons and join the Russian forces. That clearly shows he hasn’t resolved this Wagner crisis yet.”

McFaul predicts that Putin’s remaining partners are also taking note of his fumbled reaction to the rebellion.

“​​If you’re Xi Jinping watching this, the big bet you made on Putin as a partner in opposing the West is looking really problematic right now.”

What Chinese officials fear most, McFaul explained to MSNBC’s Jonathn Capehart, is instability and dissolution, both internally and amongst their neighbors. Historically, the collapse of the Soviet Union was a catastrophic event for Chinese Communist Party officials, and a lesson the current leadership is loath to repeat.

McFaul asserts that, “The longer Putin’s war in Ukraine goes, the more probable it becomes that Russia becomes more unstable. The longer this war goes on, the more likely it is we could see something like this play out over and over again. So I would hope that Xi Jinping understands that putting pressure on Putin to end the war in Ukraine is the best way to prevent chaos on China's borders.”

There are also important lessons the United States and its allies need to consider when evaluating the kind of support they are willing to give Ukraine as the war wears on.

“Putin capitulated very fast, and I think that says a lot about how he’s going to fight in Ukraine and whether he needs an ‘off ramp’ like we’ve been saying. We’ve heard all of these arguments that if he’s backed into a corner he’ll never negotiate. Well, this weekend Putin was in a corner, and he didn't double down. He didn't escalate. He negotiated,” McFaul observes.

Continuing this thought on his Substack, McFaul emphasized that, “The lesson for the war in Ukraine is clear. Putin is more likely to negotiate and end his war if he is losing on the battlefield, not when there is a stalemate. Those who have argued that Ukraine must not attack Crimea for fear of triggering escalation must now reevaluate that hypothesis. The sooner Putin fears he is losing the war, the faster he will negotiate.”

Or, as McFaul writes in Journal on Democracy, “Anything that weakens Putin is good for Ukraine. It is as simple as that.”  

Fallout on Nuclear Security and Norms

Rose Gottemoeller

Throughout the full-scale invasion of Ukraine, there have been concerns about nuclear sabre rattling by Putin and Kremlin-backed propagandists. Writing in the Financial Times, Rose Gottemoeller, the Steven C. Házy Lecturer at CISAC and former Deputy Secretary of NATO offered this insight:

“The fixation with nuclear apocalypse seems to be the symptom of a wider anxiety that the west is bent on Russian dismemberment because of its aspirations in Ukraine. The Kremlin argues that it only wanted to resume its ancestral right to a Slavic heartland, but that the U.S. and NATO are seeking as punishment Russia’s full and complete destruction as a nation state.”

Gottemoeller has been quick to condemn Putin’s casual threats of nuclear use and clear in her recommendations to the U.S. administration and its allies to find constructive ways to keep nuclear arms talks open despite the war in Ukraine and setbacks like Russia’s suspension of its participation in the New START Treaty.

The Wagner takeover of Rostov-on-Don adds a new layer to the security concerns surrounding Russia’s nuclear posture. Looking at the evolution of Putin’s nuclear rhetoric over the last 18 months, Gottemoeller writes:

“Putin embraced nuclear weapons to keep the United States and its NATO allies off his back and out of his way as he pursued his adventure in Ukraine. It did not work out that way. The United States and NATO were not ready to fight inside Ukraine, but they were willing to do everything else to support Kyiv’s cause — economic, political, security and military assistance to ensure Russia’s defeat. Nuclear weapons failed Putin as a guarantee against external meddling.”

Turning to the events of the last week, Gottemoeller continues:

“We learned on June 24 that they are no help to him internally, either. He could not brandish nuclear weapons in the face of the Wagner Group uprising . . . Nuclear weapons are not the authoritarian’s silver bullet when his power is strained to the breaking point — far from it. In fact, they represent a consummate threat to national and global security if they should fall into the wrong hands in the course of domestic unrest.”

In light of Prigozhin’s mutiny, she urges global leaders to “focus on the problem, stop loose nuclear talk, and put new measures in place to protect, control and account for nuclear weapons and the fissile material that go into them.” 

The Unknown Unknowns of the Settlement

Steven Pifer

Major questions remain about the deal struck between Putin, Prigozhin, and Lukashenko. While Lukashenko has confirmed that the Wagner boss is now in Belarusian territory, it is unclear — and many feel, unlikely — that he will stay there in quiet retirement. 

Weighing in on Twitter, Steven Pifer, an affiliate at the Center for International Cooperation and Security and The Europe Center, and a former U.S. Ambassador to Ukraine, acknowledged, “We likely do not know all carrots and/or sticks that were in play to lead to Prigozhin’s decision to end his mutiny . . . Something does not add up.”

Following up in Politico, Pifer added:

“The ‘settlement’ supposedly brokered by President Alexander Lukashenko of Belarus leaves Putin, who was invisible during the day except for a short morning TV broadcast, as damaged goods. It provided the impression that all was forgiven, likely because the Russian president feared the prospect of Prigozhin’s troops parading in Moscow — even if they lacked the numbers to take control of the capital. It is harder to understand Prigozhin. His demands went unmet, yet he ordered his troops back to garrison, accepted that they might join the Russian army that he detests, and meekly set off for Belarus. There clearly is more behind this ‘settlement’ than we understand.”

An economist by training, Khanna advocates for new trade policies and strategic business partnerships to be front and center in U.S. diplomacy with China. This “rebalancing,” as Khanna termed it, is a call for both countries to pursue a fuller, more robust economic development strategy while continuing to engage with each other.

Drawing inspiration from President John F. Kennedy’s commencement address at American University in 1963, Khanna urged listeners not to view “conflict as inevitable, accommodation as impossible, and communication as nothing more than an exchange of threats,” when it comes to managing the U.S.-China relationship.

Instead, Khanna outlined four key principles he believes will be crucial to navigating the tense years ahead. These include:

1. An economic reset to reduce trade deficits and tensions
2. Open lines of communication
3. Effective military deterrence
4. Respect for Asian partners and robust economic engagement with the world

Khanna is clear-eyed that these goals will take time to realize. Bringing jobs back to the United States will require large investments in domestic infrastructure. Leaders in Washington will need patience, persistence, and help from partners outside of politics to bridge communication gaps and ensure Beijing picks up its phones in moments of tension. Reallocating defense spending in a way that is fair both to American taxpayers and partners like Taiwan will need cooperation from lawmakers on both sides of the aisle.

But Khanna is confident that these barriers can be overcome. 

“I believe a constructive rebalancing with China can maintain the peace,” he told the audience. “It will not happen overnight. It will not happen with one president or one congressman. But it will happen if all of us - military and business leaders, educators, unions, activists, foreign policy experts and students work toward this goal. [We will win by] helping our own nation flourish and by putting our system and our promise of freedom on display for the world to see.”

Click the link to read Congressman Khanna's full remarks on
"Constructive Rebalancing with China."

The Chinese surveillance balloon that began drifting across the United States on January 28 prompted headlines suggesting the incident was a foreboding indicator of malign United States-China competition. Some scholars, however, emphasized that these assertions were nothing but hot air. After all, the balloon is one of several that have been detected in the United States airspace since 2017, and merely a physical manifestation of an ongoing trend of Chinese espionage that is often much more clandestine.

So, what was it about this particular incident that generated such swift, bipartisan calls for a military response? Our recently-published research shows that it was more likely the unequivocal, timely public attribution of this surveillance balloon to its country of origin (China), rather than the actual effects of the surveillance or the more unusual means of its collection.

How valuable is surveillance? China is believed to have used surveillance balloons to collect intelligence for the past several years, though the origin of the balloon program has yet to be disclosed. These balloons have been observed in American airspace before–including four times during the Trump administration–as well as in airspaces throughout the world. China is not the only country to use this technology. In early February, South Korea also spotted a North Korean surveillance balloon over its territory.

Continue reading at thebulletin.org

This opinion article first appeared in the Washington Post.

Most world leaders, including President Biden and Japanese Prime Minister Fumio Kishida, agree that the defense of Taiwan is crucial for regional security. But most options for improving deterrence will take too long. Building Taiwan’s self-defense, developing more U.S. firepower in the region, creating the economic resilience to make severe sanctions feasible: None of these will come to fruition before 2030.

Japan could change the game now. Allied forces, responding immediately and en masse, have a chance of thwarting a Chinese invasion, according to a recent report from the Center for Strategic & International Studies. But, in meetings with high-level officials in Tokyo last month, I sensed a mismatch between talk and walk. Japan must broaden its vision of self-defense to encompass priorities and declaratory policies that will avert calamity in the region. Tokyo cannot wait until war breaks out to start the tougher conversations.

Here’s why.

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First, without Japan, the United States could be outgunned in a fight to defend Taiwan, notwithstanding Washington’s new basing agreement with the Philippines. A combined U.S.-Japan fleet, on the other hand, would boast more than three times as many aircraft carriers, cruisers and destroyers as the People’s Liberation Army Navy. The quality of many Japanese ships approaches that of its U.S. counterparts. Eight of Japan’s destroyers field a state-of-the-art Aegis weapons system used by some of the more advanced ships in the U.S. Navy.

Second, Japan’s involvement could mitigate some of the geographic vulnerabilities of the United States. Adding Japanese bases more than doubles the locations from which the two countries together could conduct operations. Japan’s southwestern islands are closer to Taiwan than mainland China. Take Yonaguni Island, just about 70 miles from Taiwan’s east coast. On it are intelligence, surveillance and reconnaissance assets, as well as anti-ship and anti-aircraft capabilities. Operating from these bases in the defense of Taiwan, allied forces would have more opportunities to quickly target an invading force. That would make attacks on U.S. bases in Japan, such as Kadena, at the southernmost tip of the archipelago, less attractive to the Chinese. Such strikes would no longer completely cripple an air effort.

Third, Japan has military strengths that would make a fait accompli almost impossible for China. Though Japanese diesel submarines are slower than U.S. counterparts, they could reach the Taiwan Strait in just two days. U.S. submarines departing from Hawaii would take at least a week; from San Diego even longer. This makes Japan the first line of defense for Taiwan. Japanese boats could also monitor key choke points through which Chinese navy submarines would be attempting to exit the First Island Chain in the western Pacific. This would free up the quieter submarines of the U.S. Navy to wreak havoc on amphibious vessels and escort ships.

In short, Tokyo could contribute significantly to a military effort to deny China the ability to take Taiwan by force. To do so, Japan must increase its stockpile of torpedoes and long-range strike weapons, as planned. Tokyo must be willing to go after the amphibious invasion force and targets on mainland China — a very controversial proposition indeed.

On the surface, it looks as if Japan is moving in the right direction. The government took the groundbreaking historic step of increasing defense spending to 2 percent of Japan’s gross domestic product over the next five years. This meant a whopping 26.3 percent increase in 2023 alone. The greatest increase in the past was in 1986, by nearly 50 percent.

Last year, former prime minister Shinzo Abe stated that the security of Japan is connected to Taiwan. He said a Chinese use of force against a U.S. vessel defending Taiwan could legally trigger the deployment of Japan’s military (known as the Self-Defense Force).

Indeed, a 2015 law allows Japan to engage in collective defense when presented with an existential threat. This provides plenty of flexibility for Japan to fight alongside the United States without the need for a constitutional amendment. The officials I spoke with in Tokyo were firm that Japan would respond if China attacked U.S. bases such as Kadena.

But all these initiatives concern self-defense. Japan does worry that military activity around Taiwan could extend to the security of its southwestern islands. Or that if China takes Taiwan, it would be emboldened to take the Senkaku/Diaoyu islands, which Tokyo administers but which China also claims. There are even concerns that Okinawa, a group of 160-plus islands that is home to 1.4 million people (and dozens of U.S. bases), could then prove enticing to Beijing.

Crudely, Japan seems to be prepared to push back against only Chinese assets that are clearly poised to attack its sovereign territory. Those heading toward Taiwan? Not so much.

While a degree of strategic ambiguity makes sense, too much could backfire. If Japan is clearly unwilling to defend Taiwan, then improvements in Japanese military capabilities will do little to deter conflict across the strait. Japanese officials don’t need to say they would attack any Chinese invading forces, but they need to let their counterparts know it is a real possibility. The officials I met were unwilling to send such strong messages; some insisted reassuring Beijing was more important.

Tokyo must make clear at home and abroad that defending Taiwan is no longer off the table. The prospect of Japan engaging in offensive operations in the defense of Taiwan would stay Chinese President Xi Jinping’s hand. Only then would recent monumental changes in Japanese politics fulfill their potential in contributing to peace and security in Asia. If Ukraine has taught us anything, it is that deterrence is costly, but war is worse.