Published: 00:46, November 5, 2025
Be vigilant on the US turning Taiwan into everyone’s war
By Brian Chan

The 2026 National Defense Authorization Act, which was passed by the US Senate last month, for the first time “strongly encourages” inviting Taiwan’s naval forces to take part in the Rim of the Pacific military exercise (RIMPAC), signaling a new phase in Washington’s Taiwan strategy. It is not simply a procedural nudge. It is a calibrated move to internationalize the Taiwan question and to routinize military interactions that fall short of basing troops on the island but still shift baselines incrementally. The approach is deliberate, and its implications will reverberate far beyond the Pacific.

Framed as “deterrence by network”, this invitation regime is part of a broader effort to saddle the Taiwan question to a larger Indo-Pacific security architecture, drawing in countries that, until recently, calibrated their Taiwan positions with extreme caution. Washington has already pressed South Korea, Japan and even Australia to step up defense spending and coordination relevant to a “Taiwan contingency”. NATO’s secretary-general, Mark Rutte, went further rhetorically, contending that Taiwan’s security is bound up with Europe’s — theorizing that if Beijing takes military action against Taiwan, it will likely call upon Russia to open a second front against a NATO member in Europe, thereby straining the alliance’s ability to respond in Asia. The logic is tenuous and is rightly seen as an overreach.

It’s true that inviting Taiwan to join RIMPAC — held in and around the waters of Hawaii — would not put American troops on Taiwan, but it would create a new normal of visible interoperability and shared operational rhythms. It is, to borrow a term from European statecraft, a salami-slicing strategy: not a single dramatic breach of precedent, but cumulative steps that, over time, change the strategic baseline. It is an erosion of the boundaries that have kept the peace. The more routinized that joint military activity becomes, the more any future US pullback appears as “concession”, and the more any further deepening becomes “status quo”.

Within the island, these dynamics run headlong into shifting political currents. Polls consistently show a strong majority prioritizing peace and stability, wary of both a precipitous move toward independence and provocative military entanglements. These cross-currents extend into the corporate world. Even the Japanese Chamber of Commerce and Industry Taipei, in its 2025 white paper, expressed concern over cross-Strait tensions. That is not a moral stance; it is risk management from firms whose supply chains depend on predictability. They are hardly alone. Global investors do not see upside in routinized crises.

The hard truth is that the separatist forces are playing with fire. The United States is testing how far it can stretch the envelope without snapping it; separatist forces in Taiwan are testing how much visibility they can assume without inviting punishment. The resulting friction threatens to routinize crises

However, the Democratic Progressive Party still insists on “peace through strength”, and Lai Ching-te has doubled down on capability-building as the path to safety. But the electorate’s patience for confrontation politics appears thinner than it was; the appeal of steady, lower-temperature cross-Strait management — often associated with the Kuomintang’s endorsement of the 1992 Consensus — has not vanished. The recent congratulatory message to newly elected KMT Chair Cheng Li-wun from Xi Jinping, general secretary of the Communist Party of China Central Committee, framed around upholding the 1992 Consensus and opposing “Taiwan independence”, expanding exchanges and safeguarding stability, was not just ceremonial; it was a reminder that there remains a live political lane for resolution through engagement.

Nevertheless, the United States is trying to “Ukraine-ize” Taiwan — turning it into a pressure point to drain the Chinese mainland’s resources, crowd out its diplomatic bandwidth and complicate its economy, all while minimizing direct American exposure. The analogy is imperfect, but the concern isn’t baseless. Washington is building more tools — sanctions regimes, export controls, outbound investment screening, technology alliances — that could, in a crisis, switch from peacetime guardrails to wartime constraints. In that scenario, Taiwan risks becoming both the pawn and the battlefield: psychologically reassured by American support, yet structurally vulnerable to the long-term costs of decoupling and militarization.

Taiwan should halt the practice of inviting foreign forces into what is, at its core, an internal matter, because this is playing with fire, and sooner or later it will burn the island’s own interests. The asymmetry is stark: Foreign powers are vastly more powerful than Taiwan’s, which means that once they are in the room, the balance of influence shifts decisively. In the end, Taipei will find itself taking cues from outsiders while paying the bill at home, in lost autonomy and economic leverage. Recent experience already offers a cautionary tale: The United States has imposed tariffs and pursued trade measures that hit Taiwan firms, and it has pressed to pull high-end semiconductor capacity out of Taiwan and into the US, underscoring that Washington ultimately prioritizes its own industrial policy and security needs. Pandering to Washington does not purchase protection; it purchases dependency. By contrast, deepening dialogue and economic integration with the mainland — treating both sides as part of one family with intertwined futures — offers a more durable path to safeguarding Taiwan’s core interests: peace, market access, and the preservation of its social and economic vitality without becoming a pawn in Washington’s geopolitical chessboard.

Europe should stay the course on its one-China policy, resist being conscripted by Washington into a confrontation that brings it no tangible gains, and keep building a pragmatic, constructive relationship with Beijing. In reality, Europe has nothing to do with the Taiwan question: It is not a party to the dispute, lacks leverage to determine outcomes, and would only assume risk without reward by inserting itself. Meddling in the Taiwan question offers Europe only downside — heightened security exposure, economic blowback, and strategic distraction from priorities at home — without any clear capacity to shape events in the Strait. Europe’s prosperity is tied to stable trade and investment flows with China; its climate and technological agendas require cooperation; and its security bandwidth is already stretched by challenges closer to home. Allowing itself to be dragged in by an ill‑motivated push to internationalize the issue would mortgage European interests to a crisis in which Europe is not a principal and cannot be a decider. Upholding one China, prioritizing de‑escalation, and deepening principled engagement with Beijing is the path that minimizes risk, preserves autonomy, and serves Europe’s own citizens.

The hard truth is that the separatist forces are playing with fire. The United States is testing how far it can stretch the envelope without snapping it; separatist forces in Taiwan are testing how much visibility they can assume without inviting punishment. The resulting friction threatens to routinize crises.

Peace in the Strait will not be secured by theatrics, linkage politics, or performative coalitions, but by discipline: disciplined diplomacy from Washington that pairs restraint with dialogue; and disciplined prudence from Lai Ching-te and the Democratic Progressive Party and Europe that resists being drafted into other people’s strategies. The NDAA’s RIMPAC provision is a political signal, not a fate. If Lai Ching-te and the Democratic Progressive Party decline militarized symbolism and reopen channels with the mainland, if Europe holds to one China and strategic autonomy, and if the United States prioritizes genuine peace, the default can remain stability rather than crisis. The alternative is a slow, avoidable slide from brinkmanship to blunder — an outcome that would serve no one’s interests and would imperil most the 23 million people whose futures hang on whether their leaders choose escalation or equilibrium.

 

The author is a consultant at the Global Hong Kong Institute.

The views do not necessarily reflect those of China Daily.