Not Zero-Sum: Perspective of an Ordinary Chinese American
In the era of Trump/Putin/Xi, an ordinary Chinese American's hope for solidarity (Chapter Nine)
← Chapter Eight: Butterfly Effects
Chapter 9: Citizens of the World - The Ukraine War
On a mundane weekday night, my phone buzzed with a notification for war. Alarmed, I turned on the TV. Sure enough, breaking news synchronized across the antenna channels. It was early morning in Kyiv, darkness enveloped the background. Reporters spoke with measured urgency, their projected calm juxtaposed with the palpable tenseness that leapt off the screen. Despite the warnings from daily intelligence reports, further corroborated by Russian troops’ movements, it was still shocking when Russia began its attack on Ukraine. After decades of relative peace and progressive integrations, we had hoped that the days of large-scale invasions were behind us. But with the strike on Ukraine, the curtain had been pulled back to a period predating the latest bout of globalization, and it seemed like Putin had proved everyone wrong.
But Putin had miscalculated. While history suggests that it’s a bad idea to allow your enemy to surround you—NATO encroachment required a strong response—Putin underestimated the transformation that has been taking place across international borders since the World Wars. So rather than a quick exhibition of Russian military might, what actually transpired—the Ukrainian people and their fearless leader, President Zelenskyy, standing up to their much more powerful neighbor like David vs. Goliath, and out of nowhere, a global outpour of support, rising like a tsunami, sweeping through all forms of social and mainstream medias—felt more like the dawn of universal solidarity.
One by one, esteemed world leaders, accomplished celebrities, common citizens, people from every walk of life and a host of nations (including Russia), took turns to declare they stood with Ukraine, determined to add their voices to the sea of voices championing a mankind struggle. Backed by the emotions of the people, Western nations and allies took swift actions—sanctions that tanked the Russian stock market and crippled its currency—while Western corporations lined up to exit Russia. Collectively, we felt a bond that transcended boundaries. World peace seemed no longer just an ideal but a reachable possibility, and it had the strength of the people—citizens of the world—behind it.
But we were also lucky, blessed by the fragile but favorable conditions. Trump was no longer president in the US. In President Zelenskyy, we found a man of courage, energy, intelligence, and pragmatism—the consummate wartime leader. While our connections had probably been forming in the background for decades, I wondered what if Ukraine didn’t have a strong leader, for example in 2014, when Russia had occupied Crimea, what would happen then? Should the quality of the leader at any moment determine the long-term outcome of a people? Do we only support countries that are capable of fighting for themselves? Though I felt encouraged by the international developments in support of Ukraine, these prerequisites and uncertainties clouded my optimism.
As backlashes against Russia accumulated around the world, the fact that China took a neutral stance was not surprising, particularly given its recent affinity to Russia—“the enemy of the enemy is a friend” (more like “the adversary of an adversary is a semi-friend”). However, the Russian invasion was still likely an unpleasant surprise. While the world witnessed Xi and Putin stand together during the 2022 Winter Olympics, lesser known was that China had also built solid trade relations with Ukraine, an important partner both as a gateway for exporting to the EU and a source for importing agricultural goods and military arms. So the Ukraine War puts China in a rather uncomfortable position, and I expect it probably has extra incentives to stick to its longstanding position of not meddling in external affairs.
The international outcry against Russia likely did alarm China as pundits have estimated—not because of China’s closeness to Russia at the moment, but because of Ukraine’s similarities to Taiwan. The crushing sanctions, the freezing of foreign assets, the swift and unequivocal reactions of the (developed) world—to a seemingly regional issue—are certainly reasons to re-evaluate any previous assumptions China may have had regarding Taiwan.
Taiwan
In any Ukraine vs. Taiwan comparison, Beijing will inevitably note the difference—Ukraine is recognized as a sovereign nation, and Taiwan is not. However, Taiwanese supporters will also counter that the sole reason for Taiwan’s lack of international standing is because of China.
Located off the southeast coast of China, Taiwan’s territory primarily comprises one main island. Ancestors of Taiwanese indigenous peoples initially settled in the region around 6,000 years ago. During the 17th century, Taiwan saw large-scale migrations of Han Chinese, whose descendants make up most of the Taiwanese population today. In 1683, the Chinese Qing dynasty formally annexed the island. In 1895, Taiwan was ceded to the Empire of Japan as a result of China’s humiliating loss in the First Sino-Japanese War. Fifty years later, following Japan’s surrender in the Second Sino-Japanese War (aka WWII) in 1945, the Chinese Nationalist Party, backed by the US, retook control of Taiwan. Then In 1949, when the Chinese Communists defeated the Chinese Nationalists on mainland China, most of the Nationalists’ remaining forces retreated to Taiwan. If we were to make an analogy to the US, it would be as if when the American Civil War came to its conclusion, instead of surrendering, the Confederate forces had sailed to the islands of Hawaii (of course, Hawaii would had to been annexed by the US prior to the start of Civil War).
Today, the Chinese government maintains its goal to reunify Taiwan, preferably through peace but also through force if necessary. Meanwhile, the Taiwanese government primarily consists of two parties*: the DPP, which is pro-independence, and the KMT (aka the Nationalist Party), which is pro-reunification, albeit with the Taiwanese government as the controlling party of all of China. In recent years, both Taiwanese parties have moderated their stances to reach a larger electorate base—a favorable outcome of democracy when parties reconcile toward the middle rather than radicalize toward the extreme ends.
Over the past three decades, the Taiwanese people have grown increasingly in favor of independence as their identities drifted farther away from China. In 1992, 18% of respondents of an annual poll identified as Taiwanese, 26% Chinese, and 46% as both, while in 2021, 63% identified as Taiwanese, only 3% as Chinese, and 31% as both. The large shift can be attributed to three main drivers—the role of young people, Taiwan’s successful transition to democracy, and China’s recent trend toward less individual freedom.
The younger generations generally identify as more Taiwanese as they grow up unmoved by the past bonds between China and Taiwan but oppressed under the present environment where China may attack Taiwan someday. The younger generations also came of age free from Taiwan’s past political struggles and experienced instead Taiwan’s thriving democracy, which replaced the one-party military dictatorship in the late 1980s. The transition to democracy, coupled with rapid economic growth during a period known as the “Taiwan Miracle” two decades prior, transformed Taiwan from a developing country into a developed country. The concrete improvements to people’s lives in both quality and liberty have led to the growing assertion of Taiwanese identity.
While China has also achieved significant economic growth, it hasn’t caught up on the civil liberties front. Instead, China has become more restrictive in recent years, punctuated by the Hong Kong crackdowns in 2019, when the Chinese government crushed mass protests seeking democratic reforms—incidents that significantly and adversely impacted the Taiwanese’s view of China’s “one country, two systems” pitch. Although most Taiwanese now prefer independence, it is not a rejection of Chinese culture. Polls have consistently shown most Taiwanese embrace their Chinese heritage. However, they are not fans of the Chinese government as is—both the lack of freedom and its hostility toward Taiwan.
While the ideal outcome for the Taiwanese people is independence, they are also practical. They recognize that a move toward official independence could very well mean war with China, and in which case, the Taiwanese people would suffer the most—as we have seen in Ukraine—regardless of the outcome and whether the US decides to help defend Taiwan. Consequently, most Taiwanese are content with the status quo, which they equate to independence in practice if not in name. A 2021 poll found that only 6% of the population supported an immediate move toward independence, while 87% of people supported maintaining the status quo.
In China, despite the ebb and flow in tensions during my lifetime, public opinions on Taiwan have hardly shifted. While the vast majority of Chinese people believe in reunification—driven by similar sentiments that welcomed the repatriation of Hong Kong and Macau—they nevertheless prefer the status quo over reunification through war. According to a survey conducted in China from 2020-2021, only 1% of respondents supported an immediate, all-out invasion of Taiwan. Possible American intervention certainly played a role, but just as importantly, the Chinese people simply didn’t view the Taiwanese people as the enemy, fondly referring to them as “tong-bao,” or compatriots.
The senselessness of a costly war with a non-enemy left an early impression on me, leading to my first crack at diplomacy: China and Taiwan should pursue an agreement where China commits to peace as long as Taiwan doesn’t move toward official independence. When I relocated to the US, the proposal stayed intact, with only the added logic that it could also reduce American involvement.
For the American government, it’s a rather delicate situation that requires careful maneuvering. Imagine if Hawaii wanted to leave the Union, and China sent warships to dissuade the US from pursuing military options. I remember the real-life experience a classmate, who had been a former Marine, shared with me: every time, his warship traversed through the contested water surrounding Taiwan, a great deal of tension floated in the air. Everyone was on edge that someone would accidentally press a button, launch a missile, and start WWIII.
Despite the risks, the American warships are perhaps necessary at the moment. Though perhaps they are also part of what keeps China from undertaking similar political transformations as Taiwan…
During the latest downturn in US-China relations marked by the pandemic, the situation in Taiwan has flared up again. Like most residents in Taiwan and many in China, I hope we preserve the status quo. It not only prevents immediate bloodshed but, in a larger sense, could also serve as the blueprint to unravel all sovereignty disputes going forward. While most narratives cast Taiwan as a protracted geopolitical deadlock between the world’s two preeminent powers, I see decades of commendable self-restraints on the part of all stakeholders in what could become the 21st century's version of the Berlin Wall.
For China, it’s increasingly a choice between the paths of raw power, amassed from a rapidly modernizing navy, and shared values in an interconnected world. As the CCP digests the ongoing Ukraine War, I hope universal solidarity advances more quickly than China’s military capabilities, establishing itself as a formidable counterbalance that checks the ambition of Chinese leaders as well as leaders worldwide.
As China strengthens, America faces its own reconciliation between realpolitik instincts to contain Chinese expansion in the Pacific and higher aspirations to promote peace. On the one hand, I hope America’s growing realism helps it relate to China’s perspective—it cannot be easy to stomach the most powerful nation, one that has labeled you an enemy in the past, maintaining a naval presence off your southern coast; the gap between NATO’s self-belief that it could never be the aggressor and Putin’s assessment to the contrary had been one of the drivers in the Ukraine War. On the other hand, I hope that rising alarm over China doesn’t lead future American leaders to abandon the international order that the US has spent decades molding—especially as it begins to exhibit signs of a breakthrough.
At the intersection of my hopes for the US and China lies the window of opportunity for progress—the eclipsing of historical cycles intertwined with the long-term prosperity of the Taiwanese people. If we find a way to align governments to the best interests of the people, then instead of the transpacific excursions and military drills that raise collective blood pressure, we can focus on logistics, questions like how can national boundaries change through popular sovereignty? Can nations annex new regions? Can regions secede from nations? Under what conditions (timing, referendum threshold, etc.) can these changes occur… I realize this line of questions seems rather idealistic; it may be ceremonial at best until China transitions to a democracy.
But as the international court of opinions increasingly shun foreign aggressions in the era of nuclear weapons, if the World Wars prove an enduring lesson in protecting the sovereign integrity of all states, if the 1991 Gulf War marks an inflection point on the formation of an international coalition to uphold that same lesson, if the Ukraine War becomes the launching point of the universal solidarity movement, and if we find a way to unshackle the same movement from its current dependencies, then we may just discover a better guardian than American warships for peace.
Personal Diplomacy
Before our interconnected world today, there has been at least one other prolonged period of peace in human history. In the early twentieth century, the powerful European empires (rulers of ~80% of the world) had coexisted for over 80 years without a major conflict. The stability led to surging productions, thriving trades, expanded wealth, and significant improvements in many fields such as hygiene, medicine, and technology. Faster communications and transportations—via telegraphs, trains, and steamboats—connected the people, who increasingly believed in science and rationality. Immersed in prosperity and progress, many found even the idea of war inconceivable. Yet, in just five fateful weeks of 1914, everything changed. “Why would Europe want to throw it all away?” Margaret MacMillan asked in her book The War That Ended Peace.
Among her comprehensive answers, the rise of Germany challenging Britain’s supremacy and the ensuing alliances of great nations stood out for their relevance today. But it was the outsized roles played by a few individuals which ultimately became the difference between war and peace that struck me the most. While many geopolitical events had to build up and align themselves to create a combustible atmosphere, someone still had to light the fuse. And so it was an Austrian chief of staff seeking glory to woo a divorced woman, a fatalist German Chancellor—he had just lost his beloved wife—advising a mercurial German Kaiser, and a fundamentally weak Russian Tsar who could not resist his generals’ call for immediate mobilization, that plunged Europe into the “barbaric relapses” its people thought they had left behind.
The war that began in 1914, initially called the Great War, is now known as WWI. It acquired its current name when its unresolved issues led to a second world war. By the time the smoke had cleared from the battlefields 31 years later, millions of lives had perished, billions of souls hardened. Europe was a shell of its former self, its economies practically destroyed. Despite the ultimate triumph of Allies over Axis, the victory was dampened by the reality that to stop the fascist movement born in the aftermath of WWI, mankind had crafted the means for its own destruction by the end of WWII.
The threat of nuclear weapons and the devastation of the World Wars motivated the formation of the United Nations (UN), as governments developed newfound appreciation for diplomacy. While the UN has had its share of struggles, often incapacitated by the landscape of the five veto-wielding nations and splintered by segmentations such as capitalism vs. communism and developed nations vs. developing nations, it has nevertheless been effective in establishing international norms in the past 80 years. The foundation for peace, aided by the still fresh memory of war, not only enabled the reconstruction of economies but also propelled them to new heights, particularly after the end of the Cold War in 1991.
The loosening of nuclear arsenal’s stranglehold breathed new life into the humanity project. Globalization gave wings to goods, ideas, and people. An international network quietly but steadily built up in the background, boosted by technological advances such as the internet. Innovations transformed every facet of people’s lives. The increasing prosperity and expanding horizon led to a sense of solidarity like never before. Together, the world celebrated the fall of the Berlin Walls, the end of apartheid in South Africa, the legalization of same-sex marriage in America, the belief we are one.
But lately, alongside these tremendous advancements, we are starting to see signs of history’s wheels turning once again. A rising China challenges American dominance. Corresponding alliances among democratic nations (the West, Japan, and Australia) and autocratic nations (China, Russia, and possibly Iran and North Korea) further partition the world. Russia tossed around threats of nuclear weapons deployment, signaling the return of bad habits. Most worrisome is the divergence of the interests of political leaders—Putin, Xi, and Trump—from those of ordinary people. Just as in WWI, the world remains vulnerable to the self-interests of a few individuals.
In the Ukraine War, progress collided with history, pitting the arrival of universal solidarity against the age-old instinct of the strong preying on the weak. Although Ukraine successfully withstood Russia’s initial attacks, the conflict is far from over. Already, fatigue appears to be setting in. As the images of the devastation in Ukraine faded from the front pages, they were replaced with sky-high gas prices, rising grocery costs, the economic squeeze from inflation. President Zelenskyy is doing all he can to ensure that the world doesn’t become disengaged, shrug its shoulders, and move on. But “I don't envy him his task. He may wish he'd chosen an instrument for his purpose more wieldy than the [American] House of Representatives”—especially when the Republican Party remains under the spell of a Putin admirer.
And so, with the fate of Ukraine hanging in the balance, we stand at crossroads, not only between raw power and shared values, and between history and progress, but also between the self-interests of leaders and the aspirations of the people. With so much at stake, how can we compensate for the variance of political leaders? Put another way, how can we give more voice to ordinary people who support peace?
Now that we are aware of the immense potential of universal solidarity, we can work to sustain its momentum. Just as the UN harnessed the motivations of governments in the aftermath of the World Wars, I believe we can cultivate an international community empowered by the will of the people. By building upon the grassroots energy from the Ukraine War, we become less dependent on the availability of leaders like Zelenskyy and the absence of figures like Trump.
Beyond uniting people across borders and advancing the cause of world peace, the international community would also enrich our lives as we learn more about the unbounded awesomeness of the rest of our planet. At its core, this community could pursue four central purposes:
First, it could connect people through a shared culture, both exposing us to the uniqueness of existing cultures, for example, Greek mythology from the West and xi-you-ji (Journey to the West) from China, and fusing our cultures into new renditions—a common myth for all. It could create cross-culture content that highlights our brightest spots, building upon existing works such as Green Book, Hidden Figures, The Poppy War, Zootopia, the concept of the city of San Fransokyo from Big Hero 6, The Great Wall starring Matt Damon (terrible movie but interesting idea)… In many ways, this endeavor is already taking place in the US as we learn to embrace our roots. The American experience could in turn guide the world.
Second, the community can channel the earnings from the first purpose into resources to tackle borderless issues such as climate change, pandemics, and inequality, complementing the UN’s missions and ensuring that the bond of the people also binds how nations behave. While I’m a fan of the UN, it can sometimes be anchored in bureaucracy. The new movement would provide a more direct pulse of the conscience of the people, a form of diplomacy independent of the calibrations of governments and uninhibited by the calculations of politicians. Mankind’s interests deserve precedence. Global issues require global perspectives.
Third, the community would support a platform to share perspectives on international affairs from those with extensive experiences in the countries involved—imagine insights on the cross-strait standoff from someone who has actually lived in both Taiwan and China. Too often our views are shaped by leaders who prioritize only their own agenda. For example, the reelection light shone bright when Trump disparaged China during the pandemic, and the promotion bug bit hard when the Chinese “wolf warriors” struck back. Then, as the people from both nations reacted to these events, politicians realigned their sails to the political wind, and we iterated in a downward spiral, moderated only by a minority voice of reason, driven less by goodwill and more by the fear of unnecessary conflict. To me, what’s missing in all of this is a genuine interest in building good relations. If there exists a community innately invested in the relationship between the US and China, deeply attached to both sides of the Pacific, and steadfast in reminding us of our past collaborations, present connections, and common aspirations, might that not change the US-China trajectory for the better?
It’s not surprising that one of the best periods of rapport between America and China came under President H W Bush, who had spent over a year living in China from 1974-1975 as the US’s unofficial ambassador (America’s official recognition of China was still the Taiwanese government). During his time in Beijing, rather than being chauffeured around in fancy cars, “Bush endeared himself to local residents” “with his down-to-earth practicality and apparent enthusiasm for Chinese life,” a bond that had accrued over the many hours of “cycling through the capital’s narrow hutong alleyways with his wife Barbara.” The Chinese people, for their part, would affectionately remember Bush as the “Bicycle Ambassador.”
As president, despite publicly condemning China in the aftermath of the Tiananmen Square massacre in 1989, Bush privately made efforts to ensure that diplomatic relations were maintained, a gesture the Chinese government would never forget. A couple years later, “when Bush was looking to build consensus in the UN Security Council in 1991 for action against Iraq during the First Gulf War, China didn’t use its veto power against the United States” despite its strong trade relations with Iraq. The relationship between the US and China meant something to President Bush, and that made all the difference.
Finally, this community could become a home for the citizens of the world, who in turn could be the champions of this movement—the mobilization of like-minded people to build a shared future. As a community, I hope it will also provide a sense of belonging, so that the pursuit of universal solidarity is not a lonely crusade. It’s a place where I hope to put down my own roots, forge lasting friendships, and contribute to something larger, something that impacts not just our generation, but the generations to come.
*This chapter was written before the 2024 Taiwanese election, where a third political party, Taiwan People’s Party (TPP), has become a force.
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2025 Commentaries:
Originally written in 2022, this chapter reflected the optimism at the time (2020 election, solidarity for Ukraine) despite some harsher realities (rising costs, falling stock markets, the unwavering fealty of the Republican Party)—many arguably the consequences of Trump’s first term. Three years later, the vision of a world based on America’s model is almost moot—a new administration and an assessment of damage done are prerequisites to the slow road of recovery, before we can even dream of grander possibilities. In light of Trump’s reelection, what has become more increasingly relevant and urgent is the need for an international body that reflects the solidarity of ordinary people, countering the trajectories of Trump, Putin, and Xi, and extending an olive branch to the progress of humanity.
Chapter Nine End Notes:
China had also built solid trade relations with Ukraine: “The Cost of the War to the China-Ukraine Relationship” by Bonnie Girard, The Diplomat, (https://thediplomat.com/2022/03/the-cost-of-the-war-to-the-china-ukraine-relationship/)
In 1992, 17.6% of respondents of an annual poll identified as Taiwanese, 25.5% Chinese, and 46.4% as both, while in 2021, 63.3% identified as Taiwanese, only 2.6% as Chinese, and 31.4% as both: "Taiwanese / Chinese Identity(1992/06~2021/06)". Election Study Center. National Chengchi University. Retrieved 27 October 2021.
A 2021 poll found that only 6% of the population supported an immediate move toward independence, while 87% of people supported maintaining the status quo: “Taiwanese Preference for Status Quo Remains Constant Even as Views Harden” by Russell Hsiao, Global Taiwan Institute (https://globaltaiwan.org/2021/07/taiwanese-preference-for-status-quo-remains-constant-even-as-views-harden/)
According to a survey conducted in China from 2020-2021, only 1% of respondents supported an immediate, all-out invasion of Taiwan: “Assessing Public Support for (Non-)Peaceful Unification with Taiwan: Evidence from a Nationwide Survey in China (March 7, 2023)” by Adam Liu and Xiaojun Li, 21st Century China Center Research Paper No. 2023-1, Available at SSRN: https://ssrn.com/abstract=4381723 or http://dx.doi.org/10.2139/ssrn.4381723
The War That Ended Peace by Margaret MacMillan: the book presents a comprehensive view of the events and people that triggered WWI - I was struck by its unsettling parallels to the present.
“I don't envy him his task. He may wish he'd chosen an instrument for his purpose more wieldy than the [American] House of Representatives” - Lincoln (2012 movie) directed by Steven Spielberg
Bush Bicycle Ambassador: “How George H.W. Bush became Beijing’s ‘old friend’ in the White House” by Ben Westcott and Steve George, CNN (https://www.cnn.com/2018/12/01/asia/george-h-w-bush-china-intl)
Further reading: The War That Ended Peace by Margaret MacMillan
China effectively lost Taiwan with how they mismanaged Hong Kong.
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