President William Lai (賴清德) recently made a significant geopolitical move by challenging a long-standing inconsistency in China’s territorial claims. In a televised interview, Lai asked why the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) remains focused on reclaiming Taiwan while leaving a large part of Manchuria ceded to Russia untouched.
At first glance, Lai’s comment might seem like a pointed jab at the CCP’s hypocrisy, but upon closer inspection, it reveals a more nuanced strategy aimed at weakening Sino-Russian ties and shifting the narrative on Taiwan’s global standing.
Despite declarations by Chinese President Xi Jinping (習近平) and Russian President Vladimir Putin of a “friendship with no limits,” the relationship between China and Russia is more one of necessity than of trust. Historically, the two countries have shared deep-rooted animosities, particularly during the Sino-Soviet split in the 1960s, when the two nearly went to war over territorial disputes.
Today, their alliance is driven by a mutual adversary in the US, but beyond this, their interests diverge sharply.
Lai’s reference to the CCP’s failure to reclaim parts of Manchuria from Russia taps into this long-standing tension. By pointing out that the CCP does not press Russia on these lost territories while remaining fixated on Taiwan, Lai subtly exposes the imbalance in the Sino-Russian relationship.
The CCP’s focus on Taiwan is not merely about territorial integrity, but also about reshaping the international order to suit its geopolitical ambitions.
This discrepancy could sow distrust among Chinese and Russian audiences alike and highlights the transactional nature of the Sino-Russian partnership.
Lai’s comments also strike at the heart of Chinese nationalism. The region ceded to Russia under the 1858 Treaty of Aigun and the 1860 Treaty of Beijing represents a dark chapter in China’s “century of humiliation.”
Nationalists in China have long viewed these treaties as illegitimate and the CCP has condemned them as unequal agreements imposed by foreign powers.
Despite this, the administration of former Chinese president Jiang Zemin (江澤民) reaffirmed the border in 1991 in a bid to foster better relations with post-Soviet Russia.
The historical significance of Manchuria is not lost on the Chinese populace and Lai’s allusion to this region challenges the CCP’s ability to invoke nationalist fervor while conveniently ignoring this sore point.
Moreover, the strategic importance of Vladivostok, a key naval base that gives Russia access to the Pacific, and China’s limited access to the Tumen River make the region geopolitically sensitive. This further complicates the CCP’s narrative, as China’s loss of these territories continues to be a symbol of national weakness.
Lai’s critique provides a framework for a potential Western strategy. The so-called “axis” nations — Russia, China, Iran and North Korea — share little beyond a common opposition to the West. Each of these regimes faces significant domestic and international pressures, from economic sanctions to technological isolation. While China and Russia might support each other, their alliance is more a marriage of convenience than a deep strategic bond.
The economic and technological exchanges between the axis nations are limited, outdated and inefficient. For instance, Iran struggles to access critical technology, while North Korea remains isolated from the global economy.
China, despite its industrial capacity, relies heavily on energy imports, which it secures in part through its partnerships with these countries.
This mutual dependency, while binding them together, also exposes fault lines that the West could exploit. A Western “divide and conquer” approach that highlights these internal contradictions could weaken the axis.
Each axis nation has distinct geopolitical aims. For Russia, the priority is maintaining influence over former Soviet states such as Ukraine, which threatens to inspire democratization within its own borders. Iran seeks to regain its waning influence in the Middle East, while North Korea’s main goal is regime survival. China, by contrast, aims to dominate the western Pacific, with Taiwan being a key chokepoint for controlling maritime access. Beijing views Taiwan not only as a territorial issue, but as a strategic lynchpin in its broader goal of regional dominance.
China’s aggressive expansion in the South China Sea and its attempts to breach the first island chain surrounding Taiwan are driven by its desire to project power into the Pacific.
Meanwhile, Western alliances such as AUKUS (Australia, the UK and the US) and the Quad (India, Japan, the US and Australia) aim to ensure freedom of navigation in the Indo-Pacific region, countering China’s expansionist ambitions.
Lai’s strategy, which exposes the fragility of China’s alliances, aligns with this broader Western effort to contain its influence.
Lai’s seemingly simple critique of the CCP’s territorial inconsistency is, in fact, a sophisticated strategic move. By highlighting its failure to reclaim lost Manchurian territory, Lai exposes the fragility of the Sino-Russian relationship and challenges the CCP’s nationalist rhetoric. His strategy offers a blueprint for the West to exploit the internal contradictions of the so-called axis nations.
In a time of shifting alliances and global realignments, the West’s best approach might be to emphasize these divisions, rather than viewing its adversaries as a monolithic bloc.
Simon Lee is a former executive and columnist of Hong Kong’s now-defunct Apple Daily who moved to the US in 2020.
Concerns that the US might abandon Taiwan are often overstated. While US President Donald Trump’s handling of Ukraine raised unease in Taiwan, it is crucial to recognize that Taiwan is not Ukraine. Under Trump, the US views Ukraine largely as a European problem, whereas the Indo-Pacific region remains its primary geopolitical focus. Taipei holds immense strategic value for Washington and is unlikely to be treated as a bargaining chip in US-China relations. Trump’s vision of “making America great again” would be directly undermined by any move to abandon Taiwan. Despite the rhetoric of “America First,” the Trump administration understands the necessity of
US President Donald Trump’s challenge to domestic American economic-political priorities, and abroad to the global balance of power, are not a threat to the security of Taiwan. Trump’s success can go far to contain the real threat — the Chinese Communist Party’s (CCP) surge to hegemony — while offering expanded defensive opportunities for Taiwan. In a stunning affirmation of the CCP policy of “forceful reunification,” an obscene euphemism for the invasion of Taiwan and the destruction of its democracy, on March 13, 2024, the People’s Liberation Army’s (PLA) used Chinese social media platforms to show the first-time linkage of three new
If you had a vision of the future where China did not dominate the global car industry, you can kiss those dreams goodbye. That is because US President Donald Trump’s promised 25 percent tariff on auto imports takes an ax to the only bits of the emerging electric vehicle (EV) supply chain that are not already dominated by Beijing. The biggest losers when the levies take effect this week would be Japan and South Korea. They account for one-third of the cars imported into the US, and as much as two-thirds of those imported from outside North America. (Mexico and Canada, while
I have heard people equate the government’s stance on resisting forced unification with China or the conditional reinstatement of the military court system with the rise of the Nazis before World War II. The comparison is absurd. There is no meaningful parallel between the government and Nazi Germany, nor does such a mindset exist within the general public in Taiwan. It is important to remember that the German public bore some responsibility for the horrors of the Holocaust. Post-World War II Germany’s transitional justice efforts were rooted in a national reckoning and introspection. Many Jews were sent to concentration camps not