Taiwan and the limits of American power

AllAfrica

3 hours ago

As tensions escalate in the Taiwan Strait and Washington's bipartisan consensus coalesces around defending the self-ruling island's democracy, it's worth stepping back from the emotional rhetoric about freedom versus authoritarianism to examine whether America's evolving Taiwan policy serves genuine US national interests—or represents another costly overextension of American power.
The current trajectory of US policy toward Taiwan reflects the same strategic hubris that has characterized American foreign policy since the end of the Cold War: the belief that the United States can and should reshape the global order according to its preferences, regardless of the costs or the balance of power realities on the ground.
Let's begin with some uncomfortable truths that Washington's foreign policy establishment prefers to ignore. Taiwan sits 100 miles (161 kilometers) off China's coast and 7,000 miles (11,265 kilometers) from the continental United States.
For Beijing, Taiwan represents what strategists call a 'core interest'—territory it views as integral to its sovereignty and historical identity. For Washington, Taiwan is what we might generously call a 'peripheral interest'—important perhaps, but hardly vital to America's survival or prosperity.
This geographical and strategic asymmetry matters enormously. China can bring overwhelming conventional force to bear in any Taiwan contingency, while the United States would be fighting at the end of extremely long supply lines, with bases in Japan and Guam potentially vulnerable to Chinese missile strikes.
Military analysts who engage in honest assessments—rather than Pentagon wish-thinking—increasingly conclude that China would likely prevail in a conventional conflict over Taiwan, especially as Beijing's military modernization continues to narrow the capability gap with US forces.
More troubling still is how American policy has steadily moved away from the strategic ambiguity that helped preserve peace across the Taiwan Strait for decades.
The incremental steps—high-level official visits, arms sales packages, training programs, and increasingly explicit security guarantees—have created what scholars call an 'escalation trap.'
Each step makes it harder for Washington to back down without losing credibility, while simultaneously making it harder for Beijing to ignore what it views as American provocations.
This dynamic should sound familiar to students of international relations. It's precisely how great powers stumble into catastrophic wars they never intended to fight—through a series of seemingly reasonable commitments that cumulatively create impossible situations.
The question American policymakers should ask themselves is whether they're prepared for their daughters and sons to die in the Taiwan Strait, because that's where this trajectory leads.
The economic dimension adds another layer of complexity that ideological hawks prefer to ignore. China is America's largest trading partner, and despite all the talk of 'decoupling,' the two economies remain deeply interconnected.
A war over Taiwan would destroy this relationship overnight, triggering a global economic crisis that would make the 2008 financial meltdown look manageable by comparison.
Meanwhile, Taiwan's famous semiconductor industry—often cited as justification for American involvement—represents both an asset and a vulnerability. Yes, Taiwan produces many of the world's most advanced chips.
But those facilities would likely be destroyed in any military conflict, making them useless to whoever 'wins.' The rational response to semiconductor dependence is to diversify production, not to threaten war with a nuclear power.
Proponents of a more confrontational approach toward China frequently invoke America's regional allies as force multipliers in any Taiwan scenario.
This reflects another dangerous delusion. Japan and South Korea have their own complex relationships with Beijing and their own domestic political constraints.
Australia is even more economically dependent on China than the United States is. None of these countries has shown enthusiasm for actual military confrontation with China over Taiwan—and why should they?
European allies are even less likely to support American military action in the Taiwan Strait. They view the Asia-Pacific as outside their sphere of vital interests and are already dealing with the costs of the Ukraine conflict.
Expecting them to sacrifice their economic relationships with China for what they see as an American obsession is unrealistic.
None of this means abandoning Taiwan to its fate or appeasing Chinese aggression. But it does mean adopting a more realistic approach that acknowledges both American limitations and Chinese motivations.
First, Washington should return to genuine strategic ambiguity. This means stopping the incremental steps toward explicit security guarantees while maintaining enough uncertainty to deter Chinese adventurism.
Strategic ambiguity worked for 40 years because it gave all parties flexibility to avoid the worst-case scenarios.
Second, American policy should focus on making any Chinese military action as costly as possible through defensive arms sales and asymmetric warfare capabilities, while avoiding provocative offensive weapons that Beijing views as preparation for Taiwanese independence.
Third, the United States should explore diplomatic solutions that acknowledge Chinese concerns about sovereignty while preserving Taiwan's democratic autonomy.
This might involve reviving proposals for confederation or other creative arrangements that satisfy Beijing's need for symbolic unity while maintaining Taiwan's practical independence.
Ultimately, the Taiwan question illustrates a broader challenge facing American foreign policy: learning to operate in a multipolar world where the United States cannot simply impose its preferred outcomes through military superiority or economic leverage.
China's rise represents a fundamental shift in the global balance of power, and no amount of military posturing or alliance-building will restore the brief unipolar moment that followed the Soviet collapse.
The tragedy of American foreign policy since 9/11 has been the repeated failure to recognize these limits, leading to costly interventions in Iraq, Afghanistan, Libya and elsewhere that achieved little beyond demonstrating American vulnerabilities.
Taiwan could represent the ultimate expression of this strategic overreach—a conflict that America cannot win at an acceptable cost, fought over interests that are peripheral to genuine American security.
The choice facing Washington is stark: adapt American strategy to the realities of Chinese power and geographical proximity, or risk a catastrophic war that could destroy the global economy and potentially escalate to nuclear exchange.
For those who claim to put America first, that should be an easy choice to make.
Leon Hadar is a senior fellow at the Foreign Policy Research Institute and contributing editor at The American Conservative. He is the author of 'Quagmire: America in the Middle East' and 'Sandstorm: Policy Failure in the Middle East.'