The disputes over the South China Sea are complex, and they overlap and collide in complex ways. At stake are questions of ownership, demarcation, rights of passage, and access to resources—fish, oil, and gas. The resulting imbroglio implicates all six claimants, not only China but Brunei, Malaysia, the Philippines, Taiwan, and Vietnam as well. It is wrong to blame China alone for all that has happened in the South China Sea—nationalist moves, stalemated diplomacy, and the potential for escalation.

That said, no other claimant has come even close to matching the speed and scale of China’s efforts. In just two years, unannounced and unilateral acts of dredging and reclamation have created more than 3,200 acres of usable hard surface on the seven features that China occupies in the Spratlys. Ports, runways, buildings, and barracks have been built to accommodate military or civilian ships, planes, and personnel. Radar systems have been installed. Floating nuclear-energy platforms are envisioned.

Seen from Beijing, these are not matters of Chinese foreign policy. Under Chinese law, most of the South China Sea is part of Hainan province—in effect, a Chinese lake. In Beijing’s eyes, these vast waters and their bits of natural and artificial land are already in China’s possession and under its administration—a conviction embodied in the ban on foreigners who fish in them without China’s prior permission.

Without prior notification, surface-to-air missiles have been placed on Woody Island in the Chinese-controlled Paracels. Beijing may build Scarborough Reef into a third platform, completing a strategic triangle with the Spratlys and the Paracels. The resulting network of bases could undergird the declaration of an air defense identification zone designed to subject foreign aircraft to Chinese rules. These prospects cause anxiety not only far away in the United States, but also and especially nearby in Southeast Asia.

Malaysia, the Philippines, Taiwan, and Vietnam have also built on land features they control, including laying down runways. Southeast Asian claimants, too, have “legalized” their claims, as has Taiwan. Malaysia has turned an atoll in the Spratlys into a tourist resort. But these efforts have been dwarfed in quantity and quality by the massive and military dimensions of China’s campaign to push its southern boundary farther south and to augment and repurpose the rocks and reefs that it occupies or surrounds inside that new if officially still inexact national limit.

What does Beijing want in the South China Sea? The answer is: control. That answer raises additional questions: Will China actually gain control over the South China Sea? If not, why not, and if so, how? How much and what kind of control? Among varieties of dominance from the least to the most oppressive, many qualifying adjectives are possible. Minimal, superficial, selective, extractive, patronizing, censoring, demanding, suppressive, and despotic are but a few that come to mind, and fluctuations over time are possible across this spectrum from smiles to frowns in either direction.

For Asia and the wider world, the relevance of these uncertainties is clear. But the original, primary question—what China wants—can be retired, at least for now. It has been answered by China’s behavior. The notion that the government of China does not know what it wants in the South China Sea is no longer tenable. Its actual behavior says what it wants. It wants to control the South China Sea.

Obviously that body of water and its land features are not coterminous with Southeast Asia, nor with East Asia, Asia, Eurasia, or the Asia-Pacific, let alone the world. One can only speculate whether and how far the goal of control applies across any, some, or all of these concentric arenas of conceivable ambition. In those zones, why China wants control is still a fatally prejudicial—presumptive—question.

Not so in the South China Sea. In that setting, knowing the subjective motivations, objective causes, and announced reasons for Beijing’s already evident pursuit of control could help lower the risk of future actions and outcomes damaging to some or all of the parties concerned, not least among them China itself.

Three Fears and a Project

One answer to this “why control?” question runs thus:

Chinese historians who reflect on what China calls “the century of humiliation” know that the Western powers—British, French, American—entered China in ships across the South China Sea. It makes sense that China today, with that memory in mind, would want to protect its underbelly from maritime assault. Ignoring whether 19th and 21st century conditions are alike—they are not—one can then argue that China has been busy installing itself in the South China Sea for defensive rather than expansive reasons. Why not develop a forward position to discourage an American invasion? That is a generous interpretation of Beijing’s intent.

Less generously:  The United States is not about to attack China, by sea, land, or air, and Beijing knows it. It is precisely that knowledge that has allowed China to entrench itself so successfully, acre by acre, runway by runway, missile by missile, without triggering a truly kinetic American response. Americans are still significantly involved in violent conflicts in Afghanistan and the Middle East. Americans are tired of war. Washington knows that it needs to cooperate with Beijing. Among the surviving would-be presidents, Hillary Clinton regrets voting for the Iraq War; ex-conscientious objector Bernie Sanders opposes war; and Donald Trump says he makes deals not wars. If Sino-American bloodshed is so unlikely, why would China want to militarize the South China Sea to defend itself against the U.S.?

Perhaps Beijing is trying to deter a threat that falls short of war, namely, containment. But Sino-American interactions are too many and too vital for an American president to want to quarantine the world’s most populous country and second-largest economy, even if that were possible, which it is not. The Obama administration wants China to be constructively engaged with others inside the existing global political economy. A cooperative, responsible China is in the interest of the United States and the planet.

Alongside war and containment is a third possible fear in Beijing: jingoism from within. China’s rulers have for years claimed nearly all of the South China Sea. They may now feel domestically pressured to deliver on that promise of possession, lest patriotic-populist nationalists in Chinese society fault them for not pushing the U.S. Seventh Fleet back toward Guam, if not beyond. Unrequited hyper-nationalism could doom the regime. But just how widespread in society is such a viscerally expansive view?

An April 2013 survey of Chinese public opinion by Andrew Chubb yielded surprisingly peaceable majorities of 61 and 57 percent who favored, respectively, “submitting [the South China Sea dispute] to UN arbitration” and “negotiating [the dispute] to reach a compromise.” In the same poll, however, a plurality of 46 percent did advocate “directly dispatching troops and not hesitating to fight a war.” There is also a chicken-or-egg question of causation: To what extent are adamantly nationalistic public opinions the officially fostered products of the government’s own inflexible—“indisputable”—positions? When Beijing builds ramparts in the South China Sea and challenges American ships and planes, is it hoping to replace destabilizing local grievances—air and water pollution, unsafe food, land seizures and evictions—with supportive pride in China’s maritime clout?

The patrolled opacity of China’s political system makes it hard to assess these hypothetical explanations of Beijing’s campaign to control the South China Sea. One, two, or all three of these rulers’ fears may variously feed Chinese bellicosity. But why should anxieties alone motivate Beijing? A fourth hypothesis sources Chinese behavior less in preemptive trepidation than in an optimistically proactive and renovating desire to establish a new Middle Kingdom that will enjoy primacy in Asia, parity with the United States, and eventual centrality throughout the world. Off-shore dominance in an area ringed by smaller, weaker states may be viewed by Beijing as a requisite step forward toward those more ambitious and longer-run versions and extensions of control. Among China’s regional inventions, the 21st Century Maritime Silk Road, the Asian Infrastructure Investment Bank, and the Xiangshan Forum may point in that direction.

Summary and Interpretation

Three fears and a project hardly exhaust the possible answers to the motivational question, nor are they mutually exclusive, and they do not conveniently sort themselves by order of importance. But they can be characterized and compared. The fear of re-humiliation harks backward; the fear of containment looks outward; the fear of disaffection turns inward. The project of renewal alone gazes forward. The fears may be necessary, but none is sufficient. If the Opium Wars had never been fought and lost, the autocratic leaders of China today would still have reasons to worry about the United States and their own people. If Obama’s “rebalance” to Asia had never occurred, China’s rulers would still remember history and fear disorder. In the absence of social unrest, temptations to avenge the imperialist past and challenge American supremacy would not disappear.

At the neuralgic core of each fear is a loss of control. What they collectively lack is a positive undertaking to establish control. In this sense, the fears rely on the project to achieve their satisfaction, just as the project needs the fears to motivate its execution. But the project is more than the sum of the fears. The positive vision of a Sinocentric order that overcomes the fears is itself also a motivation. If the fears push, the project pulls. Agree or not with this interpretation, it may merit preliminary attention when facing a less intellectual, more existential, and more prescriptive question posed by China’s maritime resolve. Aptly in view of China’s past, it is Lenin’s question: What is to be done?

Donald Emmerson is director of the Southeast Asia Program at the Shorenstein Asia-Pacific Research Center and a senior fellow emeritus in the Freeman Spogli Institute for International Studies.

This editorial was originally carried by The Diplomat on May 24, 2016, and reposted with permission.

China and the United States have lately been characterized as geostrategic rivals and on a path toward inevitable conflict. But, according to Fu Ying, chairperson of China’s Foreign Affairs Committee of the National People’s Congress and former ambassador to the Philippines, Australia and the United Kingdom, this picture is incomplete and misrepresents a reality that is much more nuanced.

Fu discussed the current state of U.S.-China relations in a keynote speech at Stanford on Tuesday. Speaking to a full house in Encina Hall, she described different perspectives and shared challenges of China and the United States, and urged a new consensus between the world’s two largest economies.

“In the past thirty years, we’ve had friendly moments, but we were never very close. We had problems, but the relationship was strong enough to avoid derailing.

“Now we are at a higher level. If we work together now, we are capable of making big differences in the world. But if we fight, we will bring disasters – not only to the two countries, but to the world,” Fu said.

Fu’s visit was co-hosted by the China Program at the Shorenstein Asia-Pacific Research Center and the Center on Democracy, Development, and the Rule of Law, two centers in the Freeman Spogli Institute (FSI). Following her remarks, Thomas Fingar, a Shorenstein APARC Distinguished Fellow and former chairman of the National Intelligence Council, offered comments and took questions from the audience.

Fu opened her speech by saying she welcomed alternative views and “a debate.”

Misunderstandings, she said, afflict the U.S.-China relationship. Confusion shared between the two countries can largely be attributed to a “perception gap,” which, she said, is aggrandized through media reporting.

Concern on the American side over China, she said, is tied to its own doubts over its “constructive engagement” strategy. An approach held during the past eight U.S. administrations, the strategy was based on an assumption that supporting market-based reforms in China would lead to political change, she said. However, this has not occurred, and some in the U.S. are now urging the construction of another “grand strategy.”

The United States, she said, also has “rising anxiety about what kind of a global role China is going to play,” and about the future direction of the Chinese economy after its growth slid to hover around seven percent in the last two years compared to its once double digit growth in the past decade.

China interprets the United States’ apprehension as misguided, Fu said. “We see it as a reflection of the United States’ fear of losing its own primary position in the world.”

On the other hand, China, she said, is “relatively more positive” about its overall engagement with the United States. The purpose of Chinese foreign policy, Fu said, is to improve the international environment and to raise the standard of living of its people without exporting its values or seeking world power. “We believe China has achieved this purpose,” she added.

The United States and others must also remember that the past can loom large in the minds of the Chinese people, Fu said.

In attempting to understand China, “one should not lose sight of the historical dimension,” she said. China at various times in the nineteenth to early twentieth century was under occupation by foreign powers, she said, and this is a reason why sovereignty is a closely held value in the Chinese ethos.

The overall “perception gap” between China and the United States has moved from misunderstanding to fear, and that, she said, is causing negative spillover effects for both countries.

Two manifestations of this fear, she cited, are the United States’ “reluctance to acknowledge China’s efforts to help improve the existing order,” such as the development of the Asian Infrastructure Investment Bank and ‘One Belt, One Road’ initiative, and the U.S.’ “growing interference” in South China Sea issues.

“Will it lead to a reckless urge to ‘throw down the gauntlet’?” Fu asked.

She acknowledged that collision is a concern. China is focused on addressing its challenges with the United States, including avoiding potential incidents and finding ways “to adapt to and participate in adjustment in international order,” Fu said.

Yet, she cautioned that the two countries be realistic in their aims and know that China is not seeking to emulate the United States. China and the United States, unlike Japan and South Korea, do not have a formal strategic or security alliance, and they need not have one, Fu said.

“China is not an ally, and it should not be an enemy either,” she said.

“Can we accept and respect each other, and build new consensus?” she asked. She then stated, “I want to end my speech with a question mark as a salute to Stanford University which is renowned for its capability of addressing difficult questions.”

Fingar gave a brief response to Fu’s address.

Calling it largely “fictional,” he challenged the notion that there is high “American anxiety” about China. Instead, he noted, “Americans do not think very much about China,” as reflected in the multitude of polls taken recently during the primary campaigns. Thus, “there isn’t a lot of public drive to do things differently with China.”

Among U.S. academics, however, there is “puzzlement,” Fingar suggested. Puzzlement, he explained, borne less from any kind of loss of confidence in U.S. policy of constructive engagement but rather from China’s seeming departure from a trajectory that it had set for itself over the last 40 years. At the moment China’s reforms appear “bogged down;" its leaders, slow to take the critical steps necessary for economic growth; and its engagement with the outside world, increasingly unpredictable. “The puzzlement about China,” therefore, and “concern about policy has at least as much to do with concern that China may be stumbling as it does about a rising China,” he added. Debunking the zero-sum notion of international relations, Fingar emphasized instead that the United States has “done very well as a nation” in part because of its active engagement with and because of China’s success. “We welcome the rise of China, the rise of others,” he stated.

Fingar concluded with his opinion that the debacle in the South China Sea does not pose a serious threat to the relationship. Instead, “the world needs more examples of joint U.S.-Chinese cooperation and leadership” as was the case with recent breakthroughs in climate change between the United States and China. Otherwise, he added, other countries will not commit their resources for fear of a veto or objection from either the United States or China.

Later that day, Fu met with faculty members of FSI and Hoover.

Related links:

Photo gallery from the event

More than fifty experts met in Xi’an, China, for an international academic conference on demographic change and social development last week. Several scholars from the Freeman Spogli Institute for International Studies (FSI) spoke at the conference, including Karen Eggleston, Marcus Feldman, Jean Oi and Scott Rozelle.

The conference marked the 120^th anniversary of Xi’an Jiaotong University’s founding and more than three decades of collaboration with Stanford scholars. Researchers at Xi’an Jiaotong University’s Institute for Population and Development Studies collaborate on policy-relevant research and educational activities with Stanford faculty at FSI as well as the Morrison Institute and Woods Institute.

For more information on FSI’s work in the areas of global health and medicine, please visit this page and the Asia Health Policy Program website.

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From atomic bombs to harsh military occupations in the World War II period, the past is very much the present in the Asia Pacific region.

Stanford scholars are striving to help heal these wounds from yesteryear. Helping old enemies better understand each other today is the aim of the Divided Memories and Reconciliation project, a multi-year comparative study of the formation of historical memory regarding the wartime period in countries such as China, Japan, South Korea, Taiwan and the United States.

Left unattended, misguided wartime narratives may exacerbate current disputes to the point of armed conflict, said Daniel Sneider, associate director of research at Stanford's Shorenstein Asia-Pacific Research Center. He leads the Divided Memories project along with Gi-Wook Shin, a Stanford sociology professor and the Shorenstein center director.

Sneider points out the critical importance of textbooks and what is taught in schools – especially given the rise of nationalism among youth in China, Japan, Taiwan and South Korea.

"Dialogue among youth of the different nations is needed, along with an appreciation for the diversity of views and the complexity of history," he said.

Shin said, "Each nation in northeast Asia and even the U.S. has selective or divided memories of the past, and does not really understand the views of the other side."

Education and history

Launched in 2006, the Divided Memories project has published research findings, issued recommendations and convened conferences. In the early days, the researchers examined high school history textbooks in China, Japan, Korea, Taiwan and America.

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"Formal education is a powerful force in shaping our historical understandings," Sneider noted. "We wanted to look at the textbooks that have the most impact and usage."

A 2014 book, Confronting Memories of World War II: European and Asian Legacies, which was co-edited by Shin, Sneider and Daniel Chirot, a sociologist with the University of Washington, compared successful European WWII reconciliations with lagging Asian efforts. Another book, Divided Lenses, published earlier this year, examined the impact of dramatic film and other forms of popular culture on wartime memory. A new book is due out this summer, Divergent Memories: Opinion Leaders and the Asia-Pacific War, which focuses on leaders in politics, the media and academia in Japan, China, South Korea and the U.S.

The Divided Memories project aims to generate discussions and collaborations among those who create "historical memories" – educators, policymakers and government leaders. One report that grew out of such dialogues included suggestions for reconciliation:

• Create supplementary teaching materials on the issue. 
• Launch dialogues among Asian, American and European historians. 
• Offer educational forums for journalists, policymakers and students. 
• Conduct museum exchanges and create new museums, such as one wholly dedicated to WWII reconciliation in Asia. 
• Increase student exchanges among all the countries involved. 

History is reflected in today's geopolitics, as noted in the revived disputes by these nations over rival claims to islands in the South China Sea and elsewhere. Without resolution, these disagreements can flare up into military conflicts, Sneider wrote.

"The question of history taps into sensitive and deeply rooted issues of national identity," he noted.

Whether recounting Japanese atrocities in China, China's exaggerated account of its Communist fighters' role in World War II, or the U.S. decision to drop atomic bombs on Japan, no nation is immune to re-creating the past to further its own interests today, Sneider wrote.

For example, Divided Memories research on Chinese textbooks shows how the Chinese government in recent decades embarked on a "patriotic education" campaign to indoctrinate young people by exaggerating its role in Japan's WWII defeat. This narrative suits the nationalistic desires of a Chinese government no longer exclusively motivated by communist ideology, Sneider said.

One project of APARC and its Japan Program that was also an outgrowth of Divided Memories involved Stanford scholars urging Japanese Prime Minister Shinzo Abe to show "clear, heartfelt remorse" in a 2015 speech on the 70th anniversary of the end of WWII. A 15-page report featured hypothetical statements suggesting what Abe might say to make amends for Japanese actions in China and Korea.

"While we cannot claim to have directly influenced the prime minister, his statement did go further in the direction of an expression of remorse over the war and the need to continue to look clearly and honestly at the past than many expected," said Sneider.

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A workshop on history textbooks co-hosted by Shorenstein APARC and Academia Sinica's Center for Asia-Pacific Area Studies takes places in Taipei, Sept. 3, 2008.

Generations and grievances

Consciousness-raising on other fronts, however, is getting results, thanks to Stanford's Divided Memories project. A 2015 landmark agreement between Japan and South Korea over the WWII "comfort women" dispute was reached due to extensive U.S. involvement. Comfort women were women and girls who were forced into sexual slavery by the Imperial Japanese Army in occupied territories before and during World War II.

In an article, Sneider explained how the U.S. perceived that the dysfunctional relationship between South Korea and Japan over this issue, among others, threatened to undermine American strategic interests in Asia. 

Shin highlights the importance of U.S. involvement. "The U.S. is not just an outsider to historical and territorial disputes in the region," he said. "From a geopolitical perspective, the U.S. has done a wonderful job in reviving the devastated region into a prosperous one after 1945, but from a historical reconciliation perspective, the U.S. has done a poor job."

He suggests that America should "play a constructive role in promoting historical reconciliation" among the countries involved. And so, the Divided Memories project has included the United States in its efforts.

According to Sneider, Divided Memories is unique among all reconciliation projects for its emphasis on the inclusion of the U.S.; comparative analyses across countries; and real-world policy impacts. As part of the Shorenstein research center, it is housed within Stanford's Freeman Spogli Institute for International Studies.

"This project reflects what Stanford, our center and the Freeman Spogli Institute are all about – true interdisciplinary research and engagement," Sneider said.

Clifton Parker is a writer for the Stanford News Service.