Debate over China too often treats growing military power and authoritarian rule as proof of hostile intent. Australia should prepare for risk without assuming the conclusion in advance.
A recent academic peer-reviewed article in International Security, ‘What Does China Want?’, by David Kang and his co-authors questions some common assumptions about China’s ambitions. Examining Chinese leaders’ speeches, state media, textbooks and other sources, they argue that China remains largely inwardly focused, with more limited ambitions than is often assumed. The article has attracted considerable criticism.
A subsequent response by Rush Doshi in the same journal raises questions about the methodology. Among other things, the critics argue that Kang and his colleagues cherry-pick evidence in ways that make it easy to treat an absence of evidence as evidence of absence.
It is an important criticism. But it also made me wonder what happens if we apply the same standard in the other direction. We repeatedly hear that China wants to dominate the region and perhaps eventually the world. But aren’t we also at risk of selecting evidence that confirms what we already believe?
One question deserves an answer: what evidence would persuade us otherwise?
I do not think Kang and his co-authors are necessarily right. But their argument is valuable because the question forces us to consider an uncomfortable possibility. There may still be answers we have not already given ourselves. Arguments about China’s strategic intentions are often reduced to this: China is becoming increasingly powerful, and because of the nature of its political system, we do not trust what it will do with that power.
Since China is becoming more powerful, and its political system is authoritarian. There is your answer already. Perhaps it is. Anyone thinking seriously about regional security would be foolish to ignore either of these things. But notice what has happened. We began with a question about intentions. We answered it with evidence about capabilities and trust. They are not the same thing, even though we often treat them as if they were.
A country, democratic or otherwise, can build weapons because it wants to use them. It can also build them to deter others. It can prepare for a war it desperately wants to avoid. And, of course, intentions can change. That is the irritating thing about intentions. You cannot count them. Ships are easier. Missiles are easier. Political regime type is easier still.
There is considerable wisdom in focusing on what we can observe. But there is also a trap. Almost anything can end up confirming what we already believe. Chinese military expansion demonstrates the ambition of the party state. Chinese anger at American military deployments demonstrates ambition. Chinese attempts to push the US further from its coastline demonstrate ambition. Even Chinese fear of containment can become evidence that China has ambitions worth containing. Perhaps all of this is correct. But what evidence would persuade us that it is not? If the honest answer is ‘very little’, then we are no longer investigating China’s intentions. We have assumed them.
This is what makes the debate around Kang interesting. Kang has spent years challenging a comfortable assumption about East Asia: that we already know how rising powers behave. Europe gave us the story. A great power rises. It wants more. The established power becomes frightened. Other states balance against the challenger. Competition follows. Now insert China. The story almost writes itself. Perhaps the story is right. There are plenty of reasons to take it seriously. But Kang’s challenge is uncomfortable precisely because he asks whether the ending has to be written before we get there.
Of course, none of this means that China is peaceful, nor does it mean that Beijing should simply be trusted. For Australia, the question of what China wants matters precisely because it shapes how we prepare for the future. Australia has already made major strategic choices based on the judgement that the region is becoming more dangerous. AUKUS, long-range strike capabilities, and closer security relationships with the US, Japan and India all reflect that assessment. Put aside the question of whether one agrees with every one of these decisions. You may view them as insurance against an uncertain future.
But insurance should not become a self-fulfilling prophecy. If it does, it defeats its very purpose. There is an important difference between a China seeking to dominate East Asia, one seeking global dominance, one seeking greater influence over Australia, and one preparing to invade Australia. These are not simply different degrees of the same threat. They represent fundamentally different intentions, and each would require a very different Australian response. Perhaps Beijing itself does not yet know which China it will become. We sometimes talk about Chinese intentions as though somewhere in Zhongnanhai there is an envelope marked ‘China’s grand plan, 2049. Do not open.’ There probably isn’t.
Intentions are not fixed forever. They respond to circumstances, opportunities, threats and the actions of other countries. What China wants tomorrow may partly depend on what China encounters today. That is also why strategic insurance needs to be handled carefully. If we assume that China inevitably wants to dominate the region, almost every action designed to contain its power will appear justified. China may then see those actions as evidence that others intend to contain it and respond by building more military power and acting more aggressively. That response will then appear to confirm the original assumption.
Preparing for the worst is different from assuming that the worst is inevitable. That distinction is easy to lose. The point is not that Kang and his co-authors necessarily have the right answer. The point is that their question forces us to consider an uncomfortable possibility: there may still be answers we have not already given ourselves.
So, by all means, ask what China wants. Question Chinese claims. Examine its military capabilities. Watch what Beijing does rather than simply accepting what it says. Prepare for the possibility that its ambitions will grow with its power. But apply the same scepticism to our own assumptions.
If we believe China wants to dominate East Asia, ask what evidence would make us reconsider. If we believe China wants to dominate the world, ask the same question. Because if the answer is ‘nothing’, then we should stop pretending that we are trying to find out what China wants. We already decided.
Minran Liu
Minran Liu is a Lecturer in International Relations in the School of Political Science and International Studies at The University of Queensland. He writes about Chinese politics and foreign policy, East Asian politics, regional security, and Australia–China relations. He has extensive experience in professional education and regularly provides commentary on politics and international relations for Australian and international media outlets.