Credit: foreign affairs
As the United States reassesses its global role under more inward-looking policies, a key question has emerged in international affairs: can China replace Washington as the anchor of global order? At first glance, Beijing appears well positioned. It has expanded its economic reach, cultivated partnerships across continents, and positioned itself as a defender of multilateralism. Yet beneath this image lies a fundamental limitation China is not offering leadership in the traditional sense, but rather advancing a narrowly transactional “China First” strategy that avoids the burdens of global responsibility.
Unlike the United States, which built and sustained a system of alliances and institutions after World War II, China has deliberately avoided binding commitments. Its foreign policy emphasizes flexibility: partnerships instead of alliances, influence without obligation, and access without accountability. This approach allows Beijing to expand its global footprint while minimizing risk. However, it also creates structural weaknesses that limit China’s ability to convert influence into durable power.
Recent geopolitical crises illustrate this pattern. In Russia’s war in Ukraine, China has provided economic and diplomatic support but stopped short of meaningful military assistance. Similarly, in the Middle East, Beijing has maintained close ties with Iran purchasing oil and offering rhetorical backing yet avoided deeper involvement even when regional instability threatened its own energy interests. In Latin America, China’s muted response to political upheaval in Venezuela further underscores its reluctance to defend partners when costs escalate.
This consistent caution reflects a deeper strategic calculation. Chinese policymakers view formal alliances as constraints that could entangle the country in conflicts beyond its control a lesson rooted in the costly Sino-Soviet alliance of the 1950s. As a result, Beijing prioritizes autonomy over solidarity. But this choice comes at a price: its partners, aware of China’s limited commitments, are unwilling to rely on it for security. Instead, they hedge maintaining ties with both China and its rivals, including the United States.
The consequences are evident in China’s inability to build cohesive coalitions. Groupings such as BRICS or the Shanghai Cooperation Organization amplify Beijing’s diplomatic voice but lack the institutional depth and strategic unity of U.S.-led alliances. Even economically, China faces growing pushback over debt practices, trade imbalances, and perceptions of coercion, particularly in parts of Asia and Africa. These frictions further undermine trust and long-term alignment.
A hypothetical crisis over Taiwan highlights the limits of this model. While China might receive limited, transactional support from partners like Russia or North Korea, it is unlikely to mobilize a coordinated, high-cost coalition comparable to U.S. alliance networks. Most countries would remain neutral, unwilling to bear significant risks for Beijing. In such a scenario, China would confront not only military challenges but also strategic isolation.
Ultimately, China’s “China First” approach reveals a paradox: it maximizes short-term flexibility but undermines long-term influence. By avoiding responsibility, Beijing also forfeits the deeper loyalty and collective capacity that define true global leadership. Its experience suggests that power in the modern international system is not just about reach, but about relationships built on trust, commitment, and shared risk.
For the United States, the lesson is equally significant. A shift toward transactional foreign policy may reduce immediate burdens, but it risks eroding alliances and weakening the very foundations of global stability. In an increasingly fragmented world, the absence of committed leadership does not produce balance it produces disorder.
