After the first day of Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, it appeared as if the conflict would be a net-positive for the Chinese Communist Party with regard to its territorial designs on Taiwan. Like an attack dog, Russian President Vladimir Putin had torn a chunk out of Pax Americana. Putin’s calculation that Western powers would not intervene directly, for fear of escalating the conflict into a nuclear war, proved correct. Furthermore, the invasion promised to distract Washington and the US military for years to come.
However, nearly two weeks into the war, Putin’s Ukraine gambit appears increasingly unfavorable to Beijing. The unexpectedly harsh global sanctions against Russia would have caught Beijing off-guard. Worse still, explicit parallels between Ukraine and Taiwan are being drawn.
Former Japanese prime minister Shinzo Abe has called on Washington to end its policy of strategic ambiguity over Taiwan and urged Japan to host US nuclear weapons. Far from paving the way for China’s annexation of Taiwan, Russia’s invasion of Ukraine has galvanized democracies around the world and shone a spotlight on Chinese revanchism, in particular its rapacious designs on Taiwan.
While the severe economic and diplomatic ramifications of Putin’s military campaign are causing consternation in Beijing, it is the military aspect of the invasion that should be giving Chinese leaders the heebie-jeebies.
Putin and his generals settled upon the most ambitious invasion strategy available: a multi-pronged, short, sharp “decapitation” attack to quickly overwhelm the Ukrainian government and capture the capital, Kyiv. The initial assault consisted of a standoff air attack: Waves of ballistic and cruise missiles rained down on key military installations. This was followed by bombing raids by fixed-wing aircraft and helicopter gunships. Elite Spetsnaz special forces landed at Antonov Airport on the outskirts of Kyiv in an audacious attempt to seize strategic ground, enter Kyiv and decapitate the government. Meanwhile, ground forces crossed the Ukraine border and advanced on three fronts.
Publications by the Chinese People’s Liberation Army (PLA) on how it would approach an invasion of Taiwan mirror almost exactly Russia’s tactics in Ukraine: an initial bombardment by ballistic and cruise missiles to disable key military infrastructure, followed by waves of bombing raids to pummel Taiwan’s defenses. Meanwhile, pre-positioned special forces teams would conduct a “decapitation attack” on the Presidential Office, and a massive amphibious invasion force would cross the Taiwan Strait and land assault troops on Taiwan’s beaches. One retired high-ranking PLA general predicted that the campaign for Taiwan could be wrapped up in as little as 72 hours.
Unfortunately for Beijing, despite the Russian military’s overwhelming numerical advantage and technical superiority, its blitzkrieg strategy is in tatters and its military, unable to make a breakthrough, has been forced to resort to medieval-style siege tactics. Russia might eventually take Kyiv, but at what cost? Putin would have to reduce it to rubble.
The mounting costs of Russia’s invasion of Ukraine — economic, military, human and reputational — must be giving Beijing pause for thought. An amphibious invasion of Taiwan would be far more complex, costly and difficult to pull off than Russia’s “border hop” into Ukraine.
Ukrainians’ belligerent defense of their nation has also given many Taiwanese — and, crucially, the military — inspiration and a morale boost. Ukrainians have demonstrated that it is possible for a smaller power with an inferior military to inflict substantial damage on a larger, more technically sophisticated invading force by employing superior tactics, asymmetric warfare, and savvy information and psychological warfare.
Ukraine might eventually fall to Russia, but Moscow is facing the prospect of a decades-long insurgency. By the same token, China might be able to eventually grind down Taiwan’s military, but at what cost? Beijing might be able to win the war, but could it win the peace? This question should haunt Chinese leaders and its generals.
In the event of a war with China, Taiwan has some surprisingly tough defenses that could make it as difficult to tackle as a porcupine: A shoreline dotted with swamps, rocks and concrete barriers; conscription for all adult men; highways and airports that are built to double as hardened combat facilities. This porcupine has a soft underbelly, though, and the war in Iran is exposing it: energy. About 39,000 ships dock at Taiwan’s ports each year, more than the 30,000 that transit the Strait of Hormuz. About one-fifth of their inbound tonnage is coal, oil, refined fuels and liquefied natural gas (LNG),
To counter the CCP’s escalating threats, Taiwan must build a national consensus and demonstrate the capability and the will to fight. The Chinese Communist Party (CCP) often leans on a seductive mantra to soften its threats, such as “Chinese do not kill Chinese.” The slogan is designed to frame territorial conquest (annexation) as a domestic family matter. A look at the historical ledger reveals a different truth. For the CCP, being labeled “family” has never been a guarantee of safety; it has been the primary prerequisite for state-sanctioned slaughter. From the forced starvation of 150,000 civilians at the Siege of Changchun
The two major opposition parties, the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) and the Taiwan People’s Party (TPP), jointly announced on Tuesday last week that former TPP lawmaker Chang Chi-kai (張啟楷) would be their joint candidate for Chiayi mayor, following polling conducted earlier this month. It is the first case of blue-white (KMT-TPP) cooperation in selecting a joint candidate under an agreement signed by their chairpersons last month. KMT and TPP supporters have blamed their 2024 presidential election loss on failing to decide on a joint candidate, which ended in a dramatic breakdown with participants pointing fingers, calling polls unfair, sobbing and walking
In recent weeks, Taiwan has witnessed a surge of public anxiety over the possible introduction of Indian migrant workers. What began as a policy signal from the Ministry of Labor quickly escalated into a broader controversy. Petitions gathered thousands of signatures within days, political figures issued strong warnings, and social media became saturated with concerns about public safety and social stability. At first glance, this appears to be a straightforward policy question: Should Taiwan introduce Indian migrant workers or not? However, this framing is misleading. The current debate is not fundamentally about India. It is about Taiwan’s labor system, its