When China passed its “Anti-Secession” Law in 2005, much of the democratic world saw it as yet another sign of Beijing’s authoritarianism, its contempt for international law and its aggressive posture toward Taiwan. Rightly so — on the surface. However, this move, often dismissed as a uniquely Chinese form of legal intimidation, echoes a legal and historical precedent rooted not in authoritarian tradition, but in US constitutional history.
The Chinese “Anti-Secession” Law, a domestic statute threatening the use of force should Taiwan formally declare independence, is widely interpreted as an emblem of the Chinese Communist Party’s disregard for international norms. Critics have painted it as legal theater — superficial rule-making designed to justify aggression without a genuine respect for the rule of law. Yet this interpretation ignores a deeper truth: China’s legal logic in opposing secession is strikingly similar to that of the US during its own formative crisis — the American Civil War.
In 1861, the Confederate states declared secession from the Union, claiming sovereignty and independence. Although the US constitution made no explicit mention of secession, many in the antebellum period believed that it was a right preserved by the states. The original Articles of Confederation of 1781 even referred to a “perpetual union,” but they were superseded by the constitution of 1789, which left the matter ambiguous.
The Civil War resolved this ambiguity not through judicial review or international arbitration, but through brute military force. The Union did not treat the Confederacy as a sovereign or separate legal entity under international law, despite the Confederacy being recognized by many as a “belligerent community.” Instead, Washington considered the conflict a domestic insurrection, justifying its actions — including the post-war annexation of the South — under US domestic law, not international norms. The legal fiction allowed the federal government to avoid granting the Confederacy any international standing or protections.
This selective application of legal principles — alternately domestic or international, depending on strategic interest — is a recurring pattern in US foreign and security policy. It has continued into the present, most notably in the Taiwan Relations Act of 1979. Ostensibly passed to maintain “unofficial” relations with Taiwan after Washington recognized the People’s Republic of China, the act is a purely domestic statute that nonetheless has sweeping implications for international relations. It is used to shape the US’ Taiwan policy, including arms sales and strategic assurances, yet remains outside the bounds of international treaty law. This duality — invoking international standards when convenient, bypassing them when not — mirrors China’s own flexible, often opportunistic legal behavior.
China’s “Anti-Secession” Law must be understood not just as an authoritarian tool, but also as an act of legal mimicry. It is a reflection of what Chinese legal and political academics perceive to be international norms as shaped by powerful states. Beijing has internalized — if selectively — the precedent that powerful nations can treat secession as a matter of internal law, unbound by international oversight, especially if their national integrity is seen to be under threat.
Washington and Beijing share more in their legal culture than either would readily admit. Both harbor an enduring discomfort with legal norms derived from European liberalism, especially international law as codified in the 19th and 20th centuries. For China, shaped by centuries of Sinocentric imperial order, international law is seen as a Western imposition that undermines state sovereignty. For the US, legal exceptionalism stems from its revolutionary founding, and its long-standing belief that it can be both subject and shaper of global norms.
In both cases, this has bred an intolerance toward secession. For Washington, the preservation of the Union became a sacred principle following the civil war. For Beijing, territorial integrity — especially regarding Taiwan, Xinjiang and Tibet — is a non-negotiable red line. Both countries have constructed legal doctrines around these principles that blur the lines between domestic and international law.
This similarity has serious implications for Taiwan. Taipei must recognize that its chief security partner and its main adversary share a fundamental legal outlook that views secession as an existential threat. This does not mean that the US is morally equivalent to China, nor that their respective political systems should be conflated. However, it does mean that Taiwan should be cautious in relying too heavily on moral or legal arguments in its dealings with either side. US support for Taiwan is grounded less in legal principle and more in strategic calculus. That support could shift as US interests change.
If Taiwan’s leaders want to secure the nation’s future, they must move beyond rhetorical appeals to international law and liberal values. These remain important, but they are not sufficient. Taiwan needs to invest in hard power — national defense, deterrence and resilience. It must prepare for a world where legal norms may not constrain a great power determined to use force, especially if that power believes it is merely doing what other powers, including the US, have done in the past.
Beijing and Washington, for all their ideological differences, understand each other’s strategic red lines because they are built on similar historical experiences. Both reject the legitimacy of secession within what they define as their sovereign territory. Both have demonstrated a willingness to ignore international norms to uphold national unity, and both have constructed legal justifications to support these actions.
In this sense, the US and Chinese approaches to anti-secession laws reveal not just a clash of civilizations or political systems, but a shared mode of hegemonic legal reasoning. Taiwan, caught between these two giants, must be realistic. It cannot afford to rest on abstract legal arguments or moral indignation alone.
To secure its future, Taiwan must recognize the world as it is — not as it ought to be — and act accordingly.
Masahiro Matsumura is professor of international politics and national security at St Andrew’s University in Osaka.
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