By Admiral James A. Winnefeld, U.S. Navy (Retired), and
Michael J. Morell
（August 2020 Proceedings Vol. 146/8/1,410）
The beginning of major state-on-state conflict is almost
always a surprise . . . at least to one of the two sides. The China–Taiwan
conflict of early 2021 was no exception. The overlapping factors that brought
it about now seem so obvious in retrospect. First, the convergence of
Thucydides’ three sources of conflict—fear, honor, and interest—was
unprecedented at the time. On top of this, Chinese recognition of a
once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and leader Xi Jinping’s eagerness to solidify
his re-election in 2023 made it almost inevitable.
Why Now?
Regarding “fear” as a source of the conflict, we always knew
the Chinese Communist Party, as an authoritarian regime, harbored as its
principal concern a loss of control over its own population. As the roller
coaster year of 2020 dragged into its second half, a resurgence of
COVID-19—this time scattered throughout the country and again initially covered
up by the regime—began to cast real doubt among the Chinese population of the
competence of the Party and its leader Xi Jinping. The crash of the Chinese
economy, due partly to COVID and to secondary sanctions imposed by the United
States on China’s banks after the crackdown in Hong Kong (itself the result of
a U.S. administration wanting to look tough on China during an election
campaign), only exacerbated Xi’s concerns. Watching protests break out and
fully aware of the historical fragility of the so-called “Mandate from Heaven,”
Xi began to look for an external cause to distract the population from its
mounting anger and anxiety.
As for
“honor,” we were always aware of China’s ambition to integrate what it viewed
as the renegade province of Taiwan into the mainland People’s Republic. Early
in his rule, Xi dispensed with the patience Deng Xiaoping expressed on this
matter, making reunification a regular part of his political speeches. For its
part, Taiwan’s leader Tsai Ing-wen, sensing Chinese political weakness stemming
from internal stresses and feeling pressure from inside her Democratic
Progressive Party to respond to Xi, began to extend her own rhetoric regarding
independence into areas previously considered taboo. Without calling for
outright independence, Tsai went so far as to say that with the loss of the
“Hong Kong model,” reunification at any time in the future no longer seemed
possible.
Further, the
humiliating rhetoric and action that accompanied the ramp-up to the U.S.
election—in what was a race to the bottom from both candidates to show who
would be toughest on China—only made matters worse. A U.S. travel ban on
Chinese Communist Party members and their families, imposed right before many
students were preparing to travel to the States to continue their higher
education, was an embarrassment and impacted carefully laid plans to exfiltrate
additional U.S. intellectual property. Perhaps most startling for Beijing was
the visit of the U.S. Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff to Taipei—the most
senior U.S. official to visit the island in decades—followed by a brief
training detachment of U.S. Air Force F-22 Raptors to the island.
The factor of
“interest” was complex and clearly overlapped with the other two factors. The
U.S. campaign against Huawei was seen by the Chinese government as a clear shot
against Chinese economic interests, as well as depriving that nation of an
important intelligence tool. However,
dependence on microchips manufactured in the U.S. and Taiwan was a far greater
national security concern for China’s leaders. The last straw in this concern
and the overall dynamic was the U.S. embargo of the sale of any American-made
microchips to China until China stopped its economic espionage against the
United States. The strategic importance to China of Taiwan-made chips
skyrocketed overnight.
As China’s
leaders began to consider their response options, they sensed an opportunity
emerging in late November. No one was surprised that the U.S. election results
turned out to be contentious and contested—indeed, senior Chinese leaders were
aware of the Russian influence campaign intended to amplify American divisions.
But the degree of enmity surrounding the prolonged cases in multiple state and
federal courts, rising to violence in a number of major metropolitan areas,
rose beyond what Beijing thought likely.
It soon
became clear to the seven members of the Politburo Standing Committee (PBSC)
that the 2021 U.S. political transition would be an even more vulnerable time
than usual for U.S. decision-making. Xi, needing his own political win before
his 2023 re-election, argued to his hand-picked allies on the Committee that
such an opportunity would only appear every few decades. Once the members came
to agreement that China would be willing to suffer what it believed would be
temporary and half-hearted opprobrium from the international community in
exchange for achievement of a long-held goal, the die was cast. The PBSC
decided in mid-December to place in motion Operation Red Province—to bring
Taiwan back into China.
How
From the
beginning, China knew it needed to avoid open conflict, if at all possible,
with the United States, and to control escalation if that goal were to fail.
Thus, Sun Tzu’s maxim “win without fighting" had long ago been given as a
key constraint to the operation’s planners. The integrated planning team gave
itself several implied tasks. First, they constructed the move to be so sudden
that it would preempt U.S. action, drawing on another Tzu maxim, that "all
warfare is based on deception." Second, they enveloped the plan in an
information campaign designed to minimize resistance to Chinese actions,
introduce confusion within its adversaries, and mitigate international
condemnation of the move.
Their first
task was to find a legal pretext for the move. While Russia would normally use
pumped up—or even provoked—harm being done to ethnic Russians in a target
country, this pretense was not available to China. Rather, planners chose their
long-standing claim of the island being part of China—a condition subtly
confirmed by U.S. President Richard Nixon and Henry Kissinger when they agreed
to remove Taiwan from the United Nations in exchange for opening ties between
Washington and Beijing. Non-government voices on the island, orchestrated as a
deception operation by Chinese intelligence services, now called for full
independence, creating a predicate for Beijing to move on its legal claim.
The PRC deliberately ratcheted up tensions with the island
in December 2020 and commenced a major military exercise along its east coast
in early January that was ostensibly designed to be a signal to Taiwan. The
West, distracted by the U.S. election drama and the ongoing pandemic, viewed
this as mere saber-rattling.
The operation
unfolded quickly, beginning on the evening of 18 January, two days before the
scheduled—and still in-doubt—U.S. presidential inauguration. A message was
transmitted to Taiwan’s leaders that they had the option of immediate peaceful
capitulation or armed coercion, and that in the case of the former there would
be no recriminations.
Simultaneously,
a series of closely coordinated Chinese military moves unfolded that were
intended to put a stranglehold on Taiwan and deter any other nation from
interfering. All over Taiwan, Chinese intelligence operatives and special
forces not in uniform–China’s own “little green men”—emerged to take control of
key facilities and sabotage military facilities. A host of cyberattacks
crippled Taiwan’s public media and took down key elements of the power grid.
The attack on Taiwan was underway.
Chinese forces
previously engaged in the exercise swiftly turned their attention across the
Strait, and, after tough resistance on the ground, seized several islands
claimed by Taiwan, including Quemoy, Matsu, and the Penghus. Peoples Liberation
Army Navy submarines deployed to close the northern and southern entrances to
the Taiwan Strait, and also deployed east of Taiwan to prepare for potential
action against U.S. Navy ships. Any Taiwan Navy surface ships underway were
engaged quickly and sunk. Chinese media highlighted the presence of thousands
of ballistic and cruise missiles in launching positions capable of targeting
key facilities on Taiwan. An immediate sea and air blockade of the island was
announced, pending Taipei’s decision on Beijing’s ultimatum.
At the same
time, the PLAN’s amphibious forces—including an enormous number of fishing
vessels quickly pressed into service—got underway in preparation for landing
Chinese ground forces on the island’s west coast, and air defense ships
extended their umbrella over the island’s airspace. Again, both were
highlighted to the leaders in Taiwan.
Meanwhile,
China’s “Wolf Warrior Diplomats” commenced an engagement blitz to offer carrots
and sticks to governments across the globe to support, or at least not resist,
this important and long-needed move by China. Particular care was taken with
Japan to ensure it was clear to the government of Shinzō Abe that any support
provided to a U.S. response would be considered hostile action against China.
A legion of
Chinese information warriors executed a pre-planned global campaign, using all
forms of media, with messages carefully tailored for individual audiences. For
Western audiences, the messages ranged from overt condemnations of Taiwan’s
government to covert insertions of “Why does this crisis matter to Americans?”
into social media. For East Asian audiences, the messages included “The United
States is powerless to intervene; we mean no harm to any regional nation that
stays out of this; and your future depends on China’s benevolent leadership.”
For the rest of the world, the message was: “Don’t join in any international
rebuke of China or suffer the consequences of reduced Chinese trade and
investment.” Chinese media flooded international outlets with reminders of the
PLA’s ability to target ships and airfields using ballistic missiles, as well
as veiled warnings that China could target the U.S. west coast with
conventional weapons.
In Washington,
Chinese Ambassador Cui Tiankai summoned the head of the State Department’s
Bureau of East Asian and Pacific Affairs to the embassy on the morning of 19
January, delivering an explicit warning to the United States not to intervene,
noting that China would take all necessary measures to prevent such
interference. Similar warnings were delivered to Australia, Japan, South Korea,
and other close U.S. allies. A sudden,
mysterious power outage in Indianapolis that afternoon was loosely attributed
to a Chinese cyberattack, which seemed carefully calibrated not to provoke the
United States, but to suggest “We can do more.”
With few
options of their own, Taipei looked to Washington.
The Response
While stock
markets across the globe crashed on 19 January, confusion reigned in Washington
and other capitals as the crisis unfolded. The United States called for an
immediate U.N. Security Council meeting but was stiff-armed by China and
Russia. A host of capitals made tough statements about unlawful Chinese
aggression, but it quickly became apparent that international leaders were
waiting for the U.S. response on the one hand and were concerned about the
vulnerability of their economies to Chinese threats on the other. The Congressional
Taiwan Caucus—the second-largest caucus in Congress—angrily condemned the move
and called for an immediate U.S. response but fell short of providing
specifics.
In Washington,
on the afternoon of 19 January, just as the U.S. Supreme Court finally resolved
the electoral crisis, the National Security Council Principals Committee
hastily convened a meeting to consider the situation. Called upon to provide
military options for the President’s consideration, the Secretary of Defense
and Chairman of the Joint Chiefs stated that the U.S. Seventh Fleet was
recalling its personnel, getting ships underway as soon as possible, and
awaiting further instructions. U.S. Pacific Air Force assets in the region
would begin moving to dispersal fields within 24 hours.
The committee
was deeply divided. Some demanded immediate action, pointing to the U.S.
commitment to defend Taiwan from an unprovoked attack, the risk to the U.S.
reputation as a reliable ally, and the sea change that a failure to act could
cause in the perception of the United States as a major power and guarantor of
peace. Others pointed to the speed of the Chinese campaign compared to U.S.
force movements, suggesting that, in the face of such a fait accompli, a U.S.
response would be a costly effort to take Taiwan back rather than defend it.
The Secretary of Defense stated that doing so would involve high risk and
require full mobilization for war—taking the air from the room.
Several angry
cabinet members began asking why so much had been invested in countering China
militarily when it appeared little could be done to stop the loss of Taiwan.
The meeting broke up after two hours of acrimonious debate with no resolution
other than to make a strong statement condemning Chinese actions and expressing
support for Taiwan. As people got up to leave the White House Situation Room,
the National Security Advisor said, “This is not about whether we stand behind
Taiwan—we do—but it looks like we may have been outmaneuvered. I don’t like it,
but this is going to have to wait until after the inauguration tomorrow.”
By then it was
already too late. On the morning of 20 January in Taiwan—still late in the
evening of the 19th in the States—Taiwan’s government realized that, while the
Taiwanese Armed Forces remained capable of putting up stiff resistance for a
limited time, U.S. forces would require too much time to be brought to bear. In
mid-morning, realizing Taiwan was on the brink of a bloodbath, Tsai Ing-wen
reluctantly capitulated to Xi’s demands, expressing hope that the people of
Taiwan would be able to retain at least some measure of freedom.
That evening
in Beijing, three hours before the Chief Justice delivered the oath of office
on the steps of the Capitol, Xi Jinping triumphantly addressed the Chinese
people, declaring that the most important step in the “Chinese Dream,” which he
had been championing as his future legacy since 2013, had now come true. He
welcomed the people of Taiwan “home” and promised local elections down the
road. Tsai’s government was replaced the next day by a group led by a Taiwan
politician who had long called for reunification with the mainland.
The Day After
When the
Chairman of the Joint Chiefs walked into the regularly scheduled “Tank” session
on 21 January, he sat down heavily in his chair and said “I have three
questions: What just happened? What do we do now? And what the hell should we
have been doing differently?” He was answered by silence, until one of the
Chiefs quietly muttered, “Strategic ambiguity failed, and we fell prey to a
lack of imagination.”
At the same
time, another meeting was taking place in the office of the Director of
National Intelligence (DNI). The country's senior most intelligence officer,
the DNI asked his team "How did we not see this coming? How did we not
warn of this?" After a few moments, the CIA Director said,
"Twenty-years of focusing on counterterrorism and counterinsurgency,
rather than our peer competitors, has come home to roost. We've got a lot of
work to do."
In the end,
the conflict for which the United States, and in particular the American
military, prepared for so long and for which it provided billions of dollars in
military hardware to Taiwan, had been lost before it started.
