Every age has its boogeyman, the existential threat to which all paranoia returns. For a long time in the West, this was the USSR. Then after a brief interlude it was shadowy terrorists and the ‘Axis of Evil’ (Iran, Iraq, and North Korea). Now, after another brief interlude, China seems set to claim the West’s boogeyman mantle – with every passing year, China is increasingly perceived by Western citizens as untrustworthy and malicious.
This development is obviously multicausal, with economic competition, COVID paranoia, and racism all playing a role. But Chinese diplomatic strategy is also an important factor, and that’s what I want to focus on here. More specifically, I want to discuss two aspects of Chinese diplomacy: the wolf warrior and the debt trap. More specifically still, I think these two aspects of Chinese diplomacy offer critical lessons on diplomacy in general.
"these two aspects of Chinese diplomacy offer critical lessons on diplomacy in general."
Let’s start with wolf-warrior diplomacy. ‘Wolf warrior’ is a reference to a hugely-successful Chinese action film that came out in 2015 (with a sequel in 2017) based on a fictional elite unit of the Chinese military. The term entered the international lexicon sometime around 2017. Up until that point, Chinese diplomatic tradition had favored patience, subtly, and non-confrontation for about forty years. But after 2017, Beijing’s leaders and diplomats became much more assertive and confrontational, making brash statements and insisting on Chinese power.
During the March 2021 Alaska talks, for example, the top Chinese diplomat commented that “the US is not qualified to speak to China from a position of strength.” This new stance was even more apparent on social media. Between 2019 and 2020, the number of Chinese diplomats on Twitter skyrocketed. Ambassadors and official embassy accounts started to bandy conspiracy theories and passive-aggressive threats (the Ambassador to Canada called PM Trudeau “boy,” and the Embassy in France called a French researcher “little thug”).
These new wolf-warrior diplomats speak loudly and carry big sticks, disregarding etiquette and neutrality in order to fiercely defend Beijing’s interests abroad. This, you might expect, has Western observers positively scandalized.
The lesson here, as I see it, is twofold. On the one hand, diplomatic etiquette matters. China’s wolf-warrior strategy has generated headlines and outrage almost everywhere. The reason is simple: no one likes the feeling of being bullied by another country. Even the most ardent opponent of Trudeau will dislike seeing a foreign government publicly disrespect him. In sum: brash diplomats + social media = draining international good will.
On the other hand, who says diplomats’ main job is to promote international good will? It often is, but it doesn’t have to be. All diplomats, after all, including these quarrelsome Chinese diplomats, are only ever following a precise script given to them by their central government. The political calculations underpinning this script are often geopolitical, but they can also be domestic. In China’s case, wolf-warrior diplomacy might not make sense to us, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t make sense. Indeed, it is incredibly popular in China; many ordinary Chinese enjoy seeing their diplomats stand up against perceived foreign interference and self-righteousness. From Beijing’s perspective, it might just be worth it to trade a little international good will for a bump in domestic approval ratings (especially when economic growth slows and real estate conglomerates crash). That side of the story is frequently ignored by Western commentators, and it shouldn’t be.
So what about ‘debt-trap’ diplomacy? The story here is pretty simple: 1) China identifies a geopolitically important and economically underdeveloped country; 2) Chinese state banks approach said country and offer massive loans for infrastructure projects; 3) China somehow undermines or sabotages the project to ensure its failure; 4) After a couple years China comes to collect vast sums which the impoverished country cannot hope to pay; 5) In return for forgiving the debt, China forces the country to surrender some of its sovereignty, usually in the form of a military base or political influence; 6) And hey presto, China has gained a new vassal state.
Advocates of the debt-trap theory will point to case studies like Sri Lanka’s Hambantota International Port or, more often, a swath of countries across Africa. They suggest that China is pursuing a grand strategy, epitomized by the official Belt and Road Initiative (announced in 2013), in order to gain geopolitical dominance.
There’s only one problem: the evidence for the debt-trap theory is full of holes. Yes, China does fund massive projects all over the world. But, firstly, most of these happen when a foreign country approaches China, not the other way around. Secondly, China hasn't actually made a bunch of countries give up territory and sovereignty. And, thirdly, in the countries where it operates Chinese debt makes up a fairly small proportion of the overall debt burden. Western countries and Japan (as well as the IMF) actually hold far more of developing world’s debt than China. And although the Belt and Road Initiative is a real thing, upon closer inspection it is far more fragmented and rudderless than we are often led to believe. Deborah Brautigam, a prominent debt-trap critic and Professor of Political Economy at Johns Hopkins University, put it simply: “The narrative wrongfully portrays both Beijing and the developing countries it deals with.”
So what is the lesson here? China obviously isn’t angelic; these international loan agreements almost always occur with a little bit of graft, corruption, and bribery. But the debt-trap story is far more complicated than the popular grand theory suggests; in a lot of ways, China is simply doing what Western countries have been doing for decades. Put differently, it is easy to take diplomatic maneuvers out of context. And in pursuing miscellaneous pieces of geopolitical evidence we usually attribute far more intent and order than the facts demand.
This leaves us, however, with somewhat contradictory lessons. Wolf-warrior diplomacy suggests that China carefully calculates the costs and benefits of different geopolitical strategies, both at home and abroad. Debt-trap diplomacy suggests that China is more or less stumbling along, seeking opportunity where it can but no more coordinated than the rest of us. Both can be true; both are true. Indeed, diplomacy is full of contradictions and uncertainty. That’s what makes it so important. That’s what makes it so treacherous.
Comments