A century and a decade ago, Europe, at the height of its cultural and aesthetic splendor, chose to commit suicide. Nationalisms ran rampant, egos swelled beyond reason, and the delusion of a swift victory — the so called “cult of the offensive” — gripped the minds of leaders across the continent. This volatile mix, combined with imprudent strategic choices in Europe’s grand capitals, unleashed what historian Barbara Tuchman famously termed the “Guns of August 1914,” plunging the old continent into the devastation and chaos of WWI.
The causes of World War I have been dissected in countless volumes, with historians still locked in passionate debate. Yet, the prevailing narrative frames the war as a textbook case of hegemonic transition—a rising Germany challenging Great Britain’s position as the dominant power in the European order. Today, scholars draw unsettling parallels, suggesting that we are once again living through an era of hegemonic transition, this time with China poised to challenge the global supremacy of American power.
Interpreting history with a didactic lens as it is customary in Chinese strategic tradition, Chinese leadership proposed a new strategic concept on the eve of World War I's centenary in 2013: the “New Type of Great Power Relations.” (NTGPR). This framework was designed to navigate China-U.S. relations during a period of hegemonic transition. President Xi Jinping personally introduced the concept to then U.S. President Barack Obama at the Sunnylands summit. NTGPR was built on three core pillars: 1) avoiding conflict and confrontation by promoting dialogue and viewing each other’s strategic intentions objectively; 2) mutual respect, particularly regarding each other’s core interests and major concerns; and 3) mutually beneficial cooperation, rejecting zero-sum thinking in favor of advancing shared interests.
According to sharp observers of China-U.S. relations, Chinese enthusiasm for the NTGPR was met with American cynicism and particular sensitivity to how such a concept would affect relations with U.S. allies. In my own conversations with U.S. officials and strategic intellectuals at the time, it became clear that Beltway strategic elites viewed NTGPR as an attempt by China to legitimize a sphere of influence in East and Southeast Asia, effectively sidelining the United States from a region it had long worked to secure—from the Open Door Policy in 19th century through its rivalry with Japan and into the Cold War.
The three pillars of the NTGPR, however, merit closer scrutiny, particularly the first pillar, which emphasizes dialogue and the objective evaluation of each other’s strategic intentions. The challenge with strategic intentions in interstate relations is that they can be inscrutable, subject to change, and even deliberately misrepresented—deception being a long-standing tool of statecraft. However, not all states operate from the same moral or strategic vantage point. It’s relatively easy to distinguish between the genocidal ambitions of Nazi Germany and the security-driven motives of early Napoleonic France when the Ancien Régimes of Europe sought to crush the progressive revolution.
While strategic intentions can indeed evolve, in today’s nuclear era, the prospect of China or the United States gaining a decisive military advantage is beyond imagination. The existence of mutually assured second-strike capabilities largely neutralizes the fears of deception and the ambiguity of strategic intentions. There is an unambiguous red line that nuclear powers dare not cross. Unlike previous eras of hegemonic transition, where the declining power, fearing the loss of military supremacy, was often tempted to strike preventively, the nuclear age reduces the strategic pressure for such reactive aggression. This reality should provide a more stable foundation for strategic dialogue between hegemonic rivals, making preventive overreaction less of a concern and offering a platform for strategic dialogue.
The second pillar of the NTGPR, which emphasizes mutual respect and core interests, is particularly contentious in the West, where it is often associated with spheres of influence—a concept American liberals view as inherently immoral. Historically, American liberals condemned the spheres of influence established by European colonial powers, with President Woodrow Wilson attempting to eradicate them after World War I. Yet, the United States has not been immune to this very practice, as evidenced by the Monroe Doctrine, which established its own sphere of influence in the Western Hemisphere. Despite this, liberal opposition to spheres of influence by other powers has persisted, most notably in the vehement rejection of agreements like Theodore Roosevelt’s accord with Stalin at Yalta, which conceded Soviet dominance in Eastern Europe.
The paradox deepens when considering George Kennan, the architect of containment, who in 1953 proposed a deal where the USSR would withdraw from Eastern Europe and the U.S. would exit Western Europe, effectively dismantling the two spheres of influence. Liberal voices strongly objected to an agreement that would end spheres of influences in Europe. For American liberals, U.S. spheres of influence are often seen as the product of invitations from fellow democracies, while those of other great powers are viewed as despotic impositions. Given the ideological dominance of liberalism in the United States and the fierce opposition to Russia's claims of indivisible security—a euphemism for its own sphere of influence over Ukraine—any suggestion of even a modest Chinese sphere of influence in Pacific Asia is unlikely to gain traction.
Yet, spheres of influence are rooted in the realities of power asymmetry and geography. Just as the Caribbean and Latin America function as a de facto U.S. sphere of influence, a rising China may naturally develop its own sphere of influence in its region. As UVA professor Brantly Womack argues in his recent book, Recentering Pacific Asia, the nature of this process—whether harmonious or conflict-ridden—will largely depend on China’s statecraft and its strategic choices in dealing with smaller states within its periphery. If China approaches these states with magnanimity and the U.S. attempts to disrupt this process, not only will U.S.-China relations deteriorate, but regional countries may also resist Washington’s efforts. In this context, Washington should focus on soft power tools—such as economic agreements, cultural diplomacy, and demonstrating domestic excellence—to mitigate Chinese influence, though it cannot entirely prevent it. The U.S. rejection of the Comprehensive and Progressive Agreement for Trans-Pacific Partnership and the Regional Comprehensive Economic Partnership stands as a self-inflicted wound that the newly proposed Indo-Pacific economic framework cannot fully remedy.
If China wants to avoid prompting the region to welcome a more proactive U.S. military posture, it must cultivate a deeper sensitivity to how its actions are perceived, particularly by its neighbors. Heightened assertiveness in territorial disputes and the aggressive tone of "wolf warrior diplomacy" do little to improve China’s regional image or build strategic trust. As the emerging power, China needs to take on the responsibility of being a consultative voice for smaller Asian nations and advancing the collective interests of the Asia-Pacific region. Its approach during the 1997 Asian financial crisis should serve as a model for this kind of regional leadership.
Lastly, Taiwan remains a crucial and sensitive issue within the NTGPR framework's concept of core interests. There is a widespread fear in the U.S. that accepting China’s definition of core interests would mean abandoning Taiwan. However, this concern is misplaced. Taiwan is undeniably a core interest for Beijing, and any breach of the One China Policy could lead to serious conflict. While the U.S. is right to oppose any forceful unification, acknowledging Taiwan as a core interest for China does not necessarily conflict with America’s policies aimed at reassuring Taiwan, such as the Taiwan Relations Act and the “Six Assurances.” Recognizing this reality doesn’t signify a retreat of U.S. influence; rather, it reflects the delicate balance needed to manage cross-strait relations and avoid a catastrophic confrontation. Moreover, the U.S. could clarify that the NTGPR would not legitimize any Chinese territorial claims in the South China Sea or East China Sea, reinforcing the established U.S. policy that disputes should be resolved by the directly involved parties. Supporting a code of conduct for the South China Sea between ASEAN and China would increase US regional influence.
The final pillar of the NTGPR focuses on moving beyond zero-sum thinking and finding mutual interests. Zero-sum thinking has long been the strategic calculus of great powers, driven by the reality that if a rising state's economic power grows faster than that of the dominant state, the latter will inevitably see a relative decline in military strength, given the tangibility between economic and military power. However, nuclear deterrence alleviates much of this concern. Even if China were to surpass the U.S. in nominal GDP terms, it would still remain overall poorer, and the prospect of China winning a nuclear war against the United States is highly unlikely.
But what if China, by sheer virtue of its size and economic heft, were to eventually dominate its region? Could the United States still thrive in such a scenario? Elbridge Colby and other American strategic thinkers argue that this would pose a grave threat to U.S. security interests. Yet, given the capacity of regional powers—from Japan to Indonesia, South Korea, and even Vietnam—to develop nuclear weapons, it is highly unlikely that China could ever achieve the kind of complete strategic dominance the U.S. has historically exerted over the Western Hemisphere. A smart American approach to engaging with ASEAN and East Asia doesn’t require an expansive security posture focused solely on deterrence; it must also emphasize signals of reassurance towards China.
In this context, the U.S. has room for positive-sum engagement with China, fostering economic growth in both nations, even if China's growth outpaces that of the U.S. Chinese leaders argue that the U.S., through trade wars, technology restrictions, and attacks on successful Chinese companies, aims to stymie China's development, prompting more aggressive responses from Beijing. Signals from Washington that emphasize the mutual benefits of economic relations could serve as significant reassurances for Beijing. Moreover, given the pressing global issues that transcend national borders, such as nuclear proliferation, pandemics, terrorism, financial instability, and the existential threat of global warming, mutual strategic cooperation between Beijing and Washington is not just desirable but necessary.
In recent years, the term "world in chaos" has become increasingly prominent in Chinese strategic documents and leadership statements. The devastating war in Ukraine, the humanitarian crisis in Gaza, escalating conflicts in Africa, political assassinations, and the burgeoning nuclear arms race among the U.S., China, and Russia all underscore the chaos that defines our current geopolitical Zeitgeist. Now, consider if the "New Type of Great Power Relations" that China proposed in 2013 had been embraced as the strategic compass by elites in Washington and Beijing. The disorder we witness today might have been somewhat tempered. China, it seems, has integrated the principles of NTGPR into its 2022 Global Security Initiative. Engaging candidly with these Chinese proposals wouldn’t signal U.S. endorsement of China’s normative supremacy but would instead reopen a vital channel for strategic dialogue.
World War I shattered European civilization; another world war, given the destructive power of modern nuclear arsenals, could irrevocably obliterate global civilization. Great powers bear a strategic responsibility to mitigate the disruptive effects of hegemonic transition. They can and will continue to compete—perhaps even through Machiavellian means in a "prolonged twilight struggle." But leaders who embrace the principles of a new type of great power relations could build some prudent guardrails to help avert the ultimate catastrophe of hegemonic war in the nuclear age.
