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Galwan Gaffes: Turbulent Times for the Sino-Indian Relationship?

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By Prachi Aryal

India and China have been involved in regular skirmishes alongside their disputed border (Al Jazeera)

On June 15, 2020, Indian and Chinese troops were involved in an unexpected hand to hand combat in Galwan valley, resulting in at least 20 casualties. This confrontation doubtless has its roots in the 3,500km unmarked and disputed border shared by the two nations, that since the birth of both countries has been the site of successive minor clashes The Galwan valley incident marks a break with these more reserved skirmishes as it’s the first since 1975 that has resulted in loss of life. It has subsequently led to the deployment of thousands of soldiers by both sides, raising concerns of an unintentional war. 

Galwan valley, in India’s Ladakh region, lies along the western sector of the Line of Actual Control (a line separating Indian and Chinese territory) and close to Aksai Chin, a disputed area claimed by India but controlled by China. Shivshankar Menon, former Security Adviser of India has warned that the militarization by either side of the border is troubling for the Asian region as it opens the possibility of a fully-fledged war between the two nuclear armed nations. 

Speculation surrounding the clash suggests several micro-causes but underlying each are the powers’ competing strategic goals. Strategists assert that India’s growing economic development and global diplomatic influence have become impediments for their Chinese counterpart, thus the move to intrude into Indian territory was China’s attempt to disrupt the status quo in the region. 

Experts assert that China’s strategy of modern conquest is that of fait accompli, a calculated risk to establish dominance by seizing small territories. This strategy often leaves the victim with few viable options to restore the previous status quo. Fait accomplis, allow unilateral gains of power and changes to the existing state of affairs; reminiscent, therefore, of China’s actions in the Aksai Chin, Spartly Islands in South China Sea, Doklam and the skirmishes with India. 

The 15 June clash accentuates not just the strategic tensions but the more fundamental problems in the Sino-India relationship. China’s continued military assistance to Pakistan and the China-Pakistan Economic Corridor (CPEC) initiative, on disputed territory claimed by India, has created an environment of mistrust between the two nations. Similarly, India’s opposition to the Belt and Road Initiative (BRI), coupled with historically sour relations stemming from India granting sanctuary to the Dalai Lama, has intensified bilateral tensions. 

Many reports claim that the clash was triggered by India’s construction of the Darbuk-Shyok-Daulat Beg Oldi (DSDBO) road in the Ladakh region, which would give India the upper hand in accessing the Daulat Beg Oldi airstrip, thereby paving the way for easy transportation of troops and material during conflicts. Indeed, the occurrence of skirmishes and clashes have usually mirrored the construction of infrastructure around the disputed region. Both the countries view such projects as being imbued with strategic and tactical motives, leading to exacerbated skirmishes. 

The growing public discontent surrounding India’s response to the situation in Ladakh poses a strategic difficulty for the government in New Delhi. Chinese retreat is unlikely as it has adopted a fait accompli strategy of land grabs with the purpose of intimidating and coercing nearby rivals in order to establish itself as a regional hegemon. India’s traditional approach of quiet diplomacy, whilst working to soothe domestic public sentiments, will provide China the space to continue with such land grabs. With limited military options, and an increased need to address public discontent surrounding the government’s inaction, India finds itself in a strategic quagmire. Its move to ban Chinese mobile phone applications, citing national security interests, is unlikely to have any effect on China’s position on the border. 

Regular border skirmishes are fundamentally products of slapdash colonial cartography which imposed arbitrary and contested borders between the two nations. The Indian External Affairs Minister Subrahmanyam Jaishankar has made repeated public statements reiterating that the only viable way of restoring Sino-India ties is by disengaging and de-escalating the military situation in the LAC (Line of Actual Control)LAC (Line of Actual Control) The regular cross-border clashes are contrary to the Wuhan spirit championed by the two nations, who had agreed to significant economic cooperation for development in the South Asian region. 

China’s resort to military trespassing in the Galwan, as on 15 June, has created an atmosphere of mistrust and antagonism with its Indian neighbour. The frozen diplomatic talks compounded with China’s unchanged position and its fait accompli strategies of land grabbing are likely to create a geopolitical and strategic crisis in the Asian region. Sino-India relations in the future are likely to see mixed elements of conflict and cooperation as each side is driven, by their strategic objectives, to ever more aggressive actions. It is possible that, without a clear demarcation of the border, skirmishes like these can create destabilizing consequences for the Asian region. 

Editor’s Note:  There have been a number of recent events since the time this article was finalized for publication that impact this topic and region. The information contained in this article was current as of January 2021.

Prachi Aryal is a MA student in the Department of War Studies at King’s College London. Her research interest is inclined towards Gender, Human Rights, and Cross border conflicts in transitioning nations and how visuals from conflict zones play a role in communicating the realities of conflict to the broader world. She completed her BA in Journalism from the University of Delhi, India.

The problems with calculating influence: the story of the Belt and Road Initiative

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By Katherine Nichols

 

Image Credit: Illustration by Andrew Rae in ‘What the World’s Emptiest International Airport Says
About China’s Influence’, New York Times, 13 September 2017.

 

‘Unfavorable views of China reach historic highs in many countries’ reported Pew Research Center in October. On top of pandemic backlash, many people are realizing that China’s rise and subsequent diplomatic initiatives are not as benign as they once appeared. But if the overwhelming majority of people view China in a negative light, why are governments so worried about Chinese influence? 

China’s foreign policy strategy is a clear example of sharp power influence — ‘efforts that pierce, penetrate, or perforate the political and information environments in target countries’. President Xi Jinping’s outreach framework, the Belt and Road Initiative (BRI), hinges on a collection of investment and development projects stretching from East Asia to Europe. Through Wolf-Warrior aggressive diplomacy, however, China exerts more influence than just economic power. The intensive investment projects of BRI bought China leverage at the international scale, creating risks for the West in both national security as well as protection of democratic values.

The malign influence captured by sharp power is increasingly the modus operandi of 21st century geopolitics, but researchers have yet to decide how to make sense of it. East Asia experts and policy-makers in the West are scrambling to understand the intentions and methods of China’s global influence. The BRI is a prime example to demonstrate the various types of influence and explain why many questions remain. 

The Brand: Measurement of Effect

When President Xi coined BRI in 2013, he essentially launched the branding for China’s foreign policy, drawing on inspiration from the concept of the ancient Silk Road.  If we think of the BRI as a marketing tactic, much like the UK’s new Global Britain, we can use the same techniques that are applied to calculate the effectiveness of marketing campaigns to measure the influence of this foreign policy brand. Namely, we can quantify how many people were exposed and are now aware of, or better yet, understand the BRI. We can take polls to see how public perception of China and its foreign policy has changed, or look at  whether countries have changed their actions in relation to China by increasing business deals through the BRI, for instance. 

What researchers can’t tell you with certainty yet is whether those changes in action are a direct result of BRI. This is a deciding factor in assessing the effectiveness of an influence campaign. 

Researchers such as Gary Buck recognize the importance of this question. Buck designed four-stages of Measurement of Effect, and is working on a fifth – Measurement of Context — to help us accurately discern whether influence campaigns actually have an effect. But as it stands now, any numerical descriptions for how much an influence campaign has changed the population’s behaviour is likely a ‘best guess’. 

The Tools: Learning What Influences 

BRI demonstrates that any word, image, action or non-action, speech, diplomatic agreement, or economic investment can be used to influence global audiences. Public and cultural diplomacy (literature, film, religion, sport, music, etc.) is usually what people think of in terms of building up a country’s brand internationally. BRI does indeed have a large cultural aspect — such as this drama series following a father-son duo promoting BRI through dance or this pop music video described as ‘Tswift meets state propaganda’— but the real nuts and bolts of BRI lie in its economic strategy. 

With BRI, President Xi wasn’t just selling a brand, he was buying it. China began investing in international businesses and organisations. China’s annual foreign direct investment in the EU surged from $840 million in 2008 to $42 billion in 2017 and investment in Africa skyrocketed from $75 million in 2003 to $5.4 billion in 2018. The investments took the form of business acquisitions, infrastructure construction, and aid development projects. 

Researchers can tell you for certain that China is attempting to gain global influence via economic investment. What they can’t tell you is how much influence a trade deal buys. How do you quantify the effects of a diplomatic negotiation on the attitudes and behaviours of the general public? Moreover, some of these more tangible tools of influence, like building telecoms infrastructure, have long-term, iterative effects. Researchers still lack a method to calculate influence over time. 

The Intent: Language of Influence

It wasn’t long after the investment surge that the West started to realise that BRI may not be benign. China was ‘laying a debt trap’ for governments seeking to borrow investments. Developing countries more dependent on the investments from China began openly supporting China’s way of governance. In one instance, the leader of Kenya’s ruling party spoke in support of modeling his party off of China’s Communist Party. In another, thirty-seven countries signed a letter defending China’s massive detention of Uighur Muslims in Xinjiang in response to a letter from twenty-two countries condemning China’s actions. In effect, China was buying support for their value-based initiatives, most of which are problematic for the West.

When countries not as dependent on Chinese investments condemned China’s human rights record, China publicly threatened their government leaders and baited ending the economic relationship — the tactics of so-called Wolf-Warrior diplomacy. China repeatedly claimed that they were not exporting a ‘China model’ of governance, despite all appearances of just that. Most recently, however, President Xi confirmed the suspicions of international relations analysts: China’s goal was not only to grow more independent, but also to increase other countries’ dependence on China. 

The other major hurdle in assessing BRI is one that blocks the track to analysing influence more generally. There is not yet a universal vocabulary with which to discuss the strategies deployed. What do we call the BRI — influence operation? Malign influence? Propaganda? There is no lingua franca of influence. Even the terms we do have definitions for, such as propaganda and influence operation, are often avoided by governments and scholars because of their negative connotations and subjectivity. There are diplomatic repercussions for accusing a country of meddling in domestic affairs, influence operations are neither inherently good nor bad, and can’t one country’s public diplomacy be another’s propaganda?  

Calculating Influence

From my observations, there are three steps that researchers and policy-makers can take to more accurately identify, label, and calculate influence.

1) Agree on the terms. We can lean on existing glossaries and books that tackle the nuanced vocabulary of influence side by side. Consistency is key for public understanding, international cooperation and expert analysis of this new, complex security threat.  

2) Continue committing resources to Measurement of Effect (MoE). Gary Buck, the expert previously mentioned, once likened the MoE phenomenon to that of driving the speed limit — publicly most people think it’s a good thing to do, but nobody really does it. Buck offers a system of MoE that tests early and often, taking measurements at the four key objectives of influence campaigns: message exposure, knowledge transfer, attitudinal shift, and behavioural change. It’s a strong start toward accurately analysing sharp power with considerable room for growth. 

3) Accept that we cannot quantify everything. Grand strategic communications campaigns, such as BRI, are a different beast than short-term influence efforts (e.g. election campaigns). With tools ranging from press statements to business acquisitions, it may not be possible to quantify how much influence each has on global populations. When the amount of influence is incalculable, we should devote more effort to studying the manner of influence. We can use tools such as the Taxonomy of Influence Strategies to provide a language for influence manner and generate influence profiles (e.g. level of risk, cooperation, and agitation). By understanding how a country influences, we can better understand how to respond. 

There are multiple hurdles facing influence measurement, but we cannot manage what we cannot measure. It’s time we face the elephant in the room and start driving the speed limit.

 

Katherine recently completed her MA in Strategic Communications from the Department of War Studies, King’s College London. Her research focuses on the arts of influence and diplomacy. You can find her on Twitter @kat_nichols_

Realigning the Five Eyes (FVEY) Intelligence Alliance against China’s Threat 

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By: Owen Saunders

The Five Eyes Alliance, also known as FVEY: Protectors of Terror or Invaders of Privacy?

Originally created as a bilateral US-UK agreement in 1946, the “Five Eyes” intelligence alliance (FVEY) allows for mutual access to classified signals intelligence (SIGINT). Canada entered into the agreement in 1948, followed by Australia and New Zealand in 1956. The initial intention of the alliance was to gather information on foreign states that presented threats to its members through various intelligence collection and sharing methods. The formal expansion of the FVEY alliance last occurred in 1956 but there are other, less formal, extensions of the FVEY alliance, such as the Nine Eyes and  Fourteen Eyes. 

In recent years, due to China’s significant expansion of their telecommunications sector, driven by the “Made in China 2025” initiative, the FVEY alliance has placed greater attention on understanding and addressing the rising state’s ambitions and international strategy. The two focal issues for the alliance currently are China’s implementation of the controversial National Security law in Hong Kong, and their drive towards global superiority within the information and telecommunications technology (ICT) sector as exemplified by, though not limited to, Huawei, a global ICT company based in China. Allegations of close connections and cooperation between the company and the ruling Chinese Communist Party have been made, though these are denied by both parties. 

The alliance’s perception of China as a threat is rooted in its pursuit of dominance over international telecommunications. Tensions have heightened recently over the measures undertaken by its members to prevent Huawei technology from being part of important new domestic 5G networks, and this past year over the FVEY alliance’s overt criticism of China’s authoritarian interventions in Hong Kong. The alliance’s actions can been seen as efforts not only to thwart Chinese global cyber ambitions but also to counter any spread of illiberalism. Although the National Security law itself does not affect the global telecommunications market directly, concern around it reflects fears of the potential dissemination of antidemocratic values through Chinese technological dominance.

The primary concern of the FVEY Alliance is Huawei’s potential to relay information and data that the company collects, through its global operations, to the Chinese government. Some members within the alliance have taken firm stances to prevent this by either banning Huawei technology altogether and, most recently, adopting more stringent security laws aiming to protect networks on a broader level. Such protections have expanded to include government, industry and civil society, as opposed to the original strategies of blocking the technology from only core government networks which transfer sensitive information. To date, Canada is the only member that has not made an affirmative decision to ban or restrict the Huawei technology, despite significant pressure from the United States. 

China’s new National Security Law targets the autonomy of Hong Kong by giving the Chinese government greater control over the region’s internal affairs. The law aims to exert greater influence by establishing criminal sanctions for any activities dealing with “secession, subversion, terrorism, and collusion with foreign or external forces.” Many have claimed that this new law demonstrates a complete disregard for the “one country, two systems” arrangement established in 1997 when the UK returned Hong Kong to Chinese sovereignty. Since the implementation of the new law, the FVEY alliance has taken a strong stance in condemning the law, with the five foreign ministers releasing a joint statement “[urging] the Chinese central authorities to re-consider their actions against Hong Kong’s elected legislature and immediately reinstate the Legislative Council members.” The statement was heavily criticized by the Chinese government which argued that the alliance has no right to interfere in its internal affairs. 

These two examples highlight what appears to be the changing nature of the FVEY alliance and its willingness to expand its reach and functions beyond its original purpose of intelligence sharing. There is also the possibility of expanding the current membership to seven by including Germany and Japan, both of whom have expressed a desire to join. Geographical and historical significance is important in assessing a FVEY expansion given the current Sino-Japanese relationship focused on bilateral trade. The formal inclusion of Japan would likely sow greater distrust and escalate tensions with China. Expanding the FVEY alliance would also, however, help counter the support of seventy nations in the 44th session of the UN Human Rights Council for China’s National Security Law. Importantly, in line with its original mission, a formal expansion to include more states would strengthen the alliance by bringing new and vital information to the table from different governments on new security and intelligence matters, both generally and specifically regarding Chinese activities and Huawei. 

In light of these collective moves directed at China, coupled with the possible expansion of the alliance, the question is raised whether the alliance is at risk of diverting from and even subverting its original, practice-focused mandate of information collection and sharing? Specifically, in attempting to use its communal influence to pressure China through collective diplomatic and policy measures, does it risk diverging from the initial technical intentions of the organization?

By making collective statements such as those condemning China’s national security law, the alliance appears to be moving toward a more proactive and overtly political mode of operating on the global stage in contrast to its initial intentions and decades-old practices. Furthermore, adding another two (or more) formal members to the coalition could be seen as establishing a new, more powerful and politicized threat, potentially resulting in escalating tensions with an ever more economically and politically powerful China. After years of operating in the shadows, this new role for the alliance could threaten the old by its very visibility and assertiveness, increasing the likelihood of retaliatory responses. While it is not possible to accurately predict whether the data sharing ambitions of the alliance will be detrimentally impacted by the changes, the imperatives behind such changes can be understood.

The dynamics of the world have changed with the increasing and more varied use of digital technology, both in intelligence gathering and in the importance of technology in economic growth. It can be argued that this new role on the part of the alliance, whether it be through expansion, coordinated domestic policies, or greater diplomatic pressure, is a recognition of the growing importance of digital intelligence and power. The FVEY alliance has, in this author’s view, shifted accordingly to address the novel challenges of today.

Owen is currently pursuing his MA in International Peace and Security at King’s College London, Department of War Studies. He found interest in this topic in writing his undergraduate thesis and through the completion of an Undergraduate Student Summer Research Fellowship (USSRF) at Queen’s University, supervised by Dr. Christian Leuprecht. 

Owen is a Staff Writer at Strife.

How China’s Military-Civil Fusion strategy fuels China’s ambitious military aims

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by Orlanda Gill

Flag of China. Source: Pixabay

Military-Civil Fusion (MCF) is a Chinese state-directed strategy which seeks to modernise the Chinese military by creating a distinct Chinese military-industrial complex. The MCF strategy effectively seeks to eliminate the barriers between the civilian and military sectors, which consist of legal, political, communicative, and bureaucratic divisions. Once eradicated, the result is a fused civil-military sector which allows for simultaneous military and economic growth. Whilst similarities can be found in the Civil-Military Integration (CMI) of the United States in that it shares the same goals of the civilian and military industry working closely together, CMI demands co-operation either within the military industry, or with a civilian company, rather than a complete removal of barriers between the civilian and military industry. The goal of the MCF is to have a ‘world-class military’ by 2050. Whilst the exact meaning is unclear, it can be interpreted to mean China desires to be amongst the world’s greatest military powers. How this would be realised can be understood by analysing China’s strategic guidelines which can be most closely translated to operational doctrine in the West. Realisation of this aim can also be examined through China’s attitude towards the Revolution in Military Affairs (RMA) which for China has placed and will place technological and scientific innovation at the center of war. The MCF therefore must be understood with regards to China’s strategic guidelines and the RMA. Overall, it can be demonstrated that the MCF is about having a modernised military which can fight and dominate in wars that demand technological and scientific superiority.

The MCF is not a new concept. The idea that economic growth cannot be without military is found in Deng Xiaoping, in the early 1980s, who focused on economic development before military equipment modernisation. It was, however, not until the ascension of President Jiang Zemin in 1993 when focus started to shift back more towards defence than solely economic growth. Jiang emphasised dual-use technologies, combining military facilities and civilian infrastructure to streamline military and econoomic spending. These core components, which are at the heart of the MCF, have endured from Jiang until the present, under Xi Jinping. The MCF, however, shares the most similarities to the policies of Xi’s predecessor  Hu Jintao whose Civil-Military Integration (CMI) in 2009 sought to integrate the civilian and military sectors.

Whilst this brief historical overview demonstrates the evolution of a concept, the MCF is best understood at the implementation level. The strategy can be seen at work at many different levels: institutional, provincial, and local. At an institutional level, there is a growing number of the former and current senior defence industrial cadre serving in prominent party and state posts, while President Xi Jinping leads the Central Commission for Integrated Military and Civilian Development to monitor Military-Civil Fusion policies. Outside of government, the MCF also extends to universities for research. Currently, Tsinghua University is pursuing human-machine interaction with funding from the CMC Science and Technology Commission, which will likely contribute to China’s modernised military and concept of intelligentised warfare. At the provincial level, among production facilities, beginning in 2019, ten provincial-level governments are investing money into research and overseas acquisitions through guidance funds. At the local level, looking towards Tianjin, an AI Military-Civil Fusion Innovation Center was set up next to the National Supercomputer Center. This was coordinated with the Academy of Military Science.  The MCF, therefore, should be understood as a guiding principle enforced and supervised by the state to guide the civilian sector to military usages, whilst retaining the civilian economic benefits from technologically innovating and supplying dual-use technology.

President Xi Jinping has remarked that the MCF strategy is instrumental, and this view is supported by China’s prioritisation of technology in contemporary warfare. The Gulf War (1990-1991) and Kosovo War (1998-1999) for China indicated a Revolution in Military Affairs (RMA) and therefore a new standard and future trend which puts information superiority and thus the quality of technology as a key factor in military victory and for what constitutes a powerful military.  This understanding continues in the PLA’s strategic guideline in ‘winning informatised local wars’ in July 2014. An important (although not the only) aspect of this strategic guideline is the role of information. Informatisation ‘refers to the collection, processing, and utilization of information in all aspects of warfighting in order to seamlessly link individual platforms in real time from across the services to gain leverage and advantage on the battlefield.’ The demand for information superiority therefore  places importance on the ‘cyber, space, and electromagnetic domains’. The importance of advanced information technologies is thus heightened and the MCF is made a crucial process for the PLA to advance technological innovation at a rapid pace in comparison to its adversaries to gain information superiority.  Additionally, the MCF allows China to capitalise from the tech-dominated global RMA and to become a  ‘world-class military’ by 2050.

The MCF is also important in what appears to a new and emerging concept known as intelligentised warfare. This may be understood as a ‘uniquely Chinese concept of applying AI’s machine speed and processing power to military planning, operational command, and decision support’. In President Xi Jinping’s report to the 19th Party Congress in October 2017, intelligentisation was elevated to a guiding principle for China’s military modernisation. This  conceptualisation of future warfare marks an evolution from informatised warfare. Differences can be analysed in that intelligentised warfare involves an ‘algorithm confrontation’ rather than ‘systems confrontation’ that characterises informatised war. Winning would therefore come from having an ‘algorithm advantage’. Furthermore, whilst informatised warfare recognises the importance of the space and cyber domain, intelligentised warfare would expand the domain of warfare into the cognitive domain which concerns ‘the field of decision-making through reasoning’. Superiority in this domain would be achieved through enhanced cognitive capacity of human combatants via integrated human-machine intelligence. The expansion of warfare into new domains and the potential Revolution in Military Affairs through AI would certainly help produce a ‘world-class military’. The connection of intelligentised warfare and MCF is made explicit when we observe that the PLA’s Science of Military Strategy, an authoritative book on the PLA compiled by the PLA’s Academy of Military Science (AMS), states the intention to ‘Promote deeper military-civil fusion, and leverage societal resources for the development of military intelligentisation’. The MCF is thus integral to China’s capacity to leverage science and technology to bolster their combat capabilities as well as to lead in what China envisions as future wars.

Overall, the Military-Civil Fusion is an ambitious concept and strategy that seeks to modernise the military to great heights by fusing the civilian and economic sectors. The question of its success perhaps depends on whether the PLA is a world-class military by 2050. Nevertheless, the strategy has further implications; it promises China a technological edge, the strengthening of economic security and domestic and international prestige. Therefore, rather than becoming overly attached to what may be perceived as an end goal, it is important to remain open so as to see where the fusion is leading China.

 

Orlanda Gill is a MA National Security Studies student at the Department of War Studies at King’s College, London. Her interest is in East Asian security with a key focus on China’s foreign and domestic policy. She is also currently exploring the technology-security nexus especially with regards to China.

Orlanda is a part of Strife’s Women in Writing programme.

You can find her on Twitter at @orlanda_gill.

 

The Overextension of Sovereignty: How states have dampened opposition to annexation

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by Andrew Scanlon

Kremlin Dome of Senate. Photo Credit: iStockPhoto.

In the twenty-first century the calculation that war is too costly to pursue in the conventional manner has kept large scale inter-state conflict from occurring. States are no longer willing to send tanks rolling across borders to invade neighboring countries. The military, economic, and political cost/benefit analyses simply do not justify those actions in the present state of international relations. Yet, this does not cure a state’s appetite to expand its control in favor of pursuing its national interest. However, it does shift the strategy used to expand its presence. The use of proxies to engage on behalf of a state has been documented in conflicts such as the ongoing war in Yemen. A number of states utilize this strategy to pursue plausible deniability. An alternative method to mollify the international community over aggressive actions has been increasing in prevalence – extending sovereignty over peoples or structures outside of their present jurisdiction in order to more forcefully justify the aggressor’s presence. By over-extending their claim of sovereignty, these states attempt to shift the perception of their actions from aggressors to defenders and dampen any possibility of a united front willing to confront their activities. We have seen this strategy play out in Crimea and eastern Ukraine under President Vladimir Putin in 2014, and more recently in the South China Sea and the Himalayas by President Xi Jinping.

The Russian case in Ukraine

The Russian Black Sea Fleet’s continued access to naval bases in warm-water ports in Crimea and Russia’s support for the fiercely pro-Russian Ukrainian President Viktor Yanukovych were national interests, but a traditional military incursion into Ukraine would have triggered costly consequences. Instead, Vladimir Putin began using rhetoric related to the protection of ethnic Russians in Crimea and eastern Ukraine. Following violence in Kiev, Putin declared that “We understand what worries the citizens of Ukraine, both Russian and Ukrainian, and the Russian-speaking population in the eastern and southern regions of Ukraine… we retain the right to use all available means to protect those people. We believe this would be absolutely legitimate.” After mass protests in Kiev and the formation of pro-Russian separatist militias in Ukraine, Putin used the doctrine of Protecting Nationals Abroad (PNA) as justification for sending military supplies to separatists and deploying “little green men” into Crimea and eastern Ukraine. But many of these people Putin claimed to protect were not citizens, but merely ethnic Russians or Russian-speaking peoples. Whether the doctrine of PNA is lawful or simply tolerated, its traditional application has been to citizens, not foreign nationals with ancestry to the state utilizing the doctrine. Nevertheless, in 2019, Putin issued a decree allowing close to 3.5 million people living in the eastern Ukrainian regions of Donbass and Luhansk to obtain Russian passports and brings Putin’s actions closer to those previously allowed by the international community.

Putin did not stop at protecting ethnic Russians. He also used historical claims to justify retaking territory. In a speech to a joint session of parliament asking for the formal annexation of Crimea, Putin professed “All these years, citizens and many public figures came back to this issue, saying that Crimea is historically Russian land and Sevastopol is a Russian city. Yes, we all knew this in our hearts and minds”. Russia’s relinquishing of Crimea to Ukraine, in the process suffering a ‘historical wronging’, and its subsequent use as a rationalization to retake territory followed the framework of previous annexations. A number of international leaders compared the move to Hitler’s annexation of Sudetenland in 1938. The UN General Assembly has adopted resolutions urging Russia to withdraw military forces from Crimea and supplies from going to eastern Ukraine. A certain amount of backlash was inevitable following the annexation of territory, but Putin would have been naïve to believe that there would have been silence after such a move. However, other than remarks by world leaders and a number of U.S. and EU economic sanctions, Putin has been relatively free to pursue his interests in Crimea and eastern Ukraine. His use of the PNA doctrine and historical sovereignty over territory allowed him to keep the conflict, and ensuing fallout, below a level of escalation consistent with traditional military invasions.

China’s Mountain and Sea Strategy

While Russia has used the PNA doctrine as justification for interference into neighboring countries, China has used infrastructure. In the South China Sea, the Nine Dash Line asserted by China encompasses vast majorities of the sea that extend far beyond the usual exclusive-economic zones given to each state as a result of the United Nation’s Convention on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS). Chinese explanations for this broad claim are based on historical use of the sea by China dating back thousands of years. In modern times, the Chinese People’s Liberation Army’s Navy (PLAN) has been constructing artificial islands in the South China Sea since 2013, allowing them to issue claims of sovereignty over disputed territory. In April, China created two new administrative districts in the South China Sea. This month, China drafted a new law that would expand the Chinese Coast Guard’s ability to enforce its sovereignty over the islands, permitting them to destroy foreign construction on islands claimed by Beijing and fire weapons on foreign ships.

China has now duplicated this strategy on land. In recent weeks, China completed the initial construction of a new village where the borders of India, Bhutan, and China meet in the Himalayan Mountains. This came after a June border clash in the Ladakh region of the Himalayas, near Kashmir, that resulted in the deaths of 20 Indian soldiers and an unknown number of Chinese casualties. The new Chinese village is reported to be constructed within the territory of Bhutan, just south of the Doklam Plateau. Bhutan and China have been engaged in territorial disputes for nearly 35 years, much of which is focused on the western regions of Bhutan. The Doklam plateau is strategically significant for India’s continued access to its eight northeastern states, as well as their land borders with Bhutan and Myanmar. Under Chinese control, they would have the ability to block this access. The new Chinese village may only be the first in a series, much like the artificial islands, that would give China anchor points to protect the ‘sovereignty’ of Chinese territory or peoples.

These anchor points are core components to the strategy of Chinese expansion. States, including Australia, Japan, Vietnam, and Malaysia, are concerned with a resurgent China, its brazen aggression, and the potential of forceful annexation of territory. These fears present a major diplomatic challenge to China’s longer-term strategy. [[i]] Therefore, China has attached rhetoric to provocative actions in an attempt to alleviate concerns over their rise, engaging in a “rhetorical trap”. China has used rhetoric such as ‘China’s peaceful rise’ to assuage fears over actions that would otherwise seem more hostile. The rhetoric emphasizes the protection of sovereign entities, instead of engaging in military conflict on existing territory of sovereign states. This rhetoric has typically been utilized around actions in the South China Sea, but Beijing may begin using similar terminology regarding its efforts in the Himalayas.

Both the Russian and Chinese strategies are aimed at expanding territorial control without the stigma or risk of conventional conflict over existing territory, structures, or peoples. This shifts the conflict from a conventional military one to a more hybrid model that incorporates higher levels of rhetoric and international public opinion. Both the Russian and Chinese approaches try to build a framework that give them a defensive right to use force instead of an aggressive seizure of territory. While these strategies have allowed Russia and China to extend their ambitions over neighboring territories, how long will it take for their neighbors, and world leaders, to effectively respond to these enigmatic strategies… if ever?

 

[i] For more on the diplomatic challenges facing China in Asia over their renewed presence as a great power, Anisa Heritage and Pak K. Lee (2020) use an international order perspective to analyze the tension in the South China Sea, available here.

Andrew Scanlon is a MSc candidate in International Relations at the University of Edinburgh and an External Representative at Strife. Prior to postgraduate studies, he completed is B.A. in Political Science from the University of Dayton. During his undergraduate, Andrew worked for the Ohio Attorney General’s office and in the United States House of Representatives. His areas of research interest includes blockchain and its use as a tool for diplomacy, the impacts of the conflict in the South China Sea on the current international order, and international political economy.