Dr. Miklos K. Radvanyi
The People’s Republic of China’s foreign policy under Xi Jinping’s tyrannical reign cannot be understood adequately as either ordinary great-power competition or a simple continuation of Mao’s Marxism-Leninism with Chinese characteristics. In reality, it is the fusion of four uniquely Chinese traditions: Confucian hierarchy and moral paternalism, legalist centralization and coercion, the imperial conception of China as the civilizational center of the world, and the Chinese Communist Party’s monopolistic organization combined with Chinese chauvinism and strategic realism. In this complex pot-pourri of Chinese political mentality, Confucianism supplies much of the vocabulary and political psychology, Legalism supplies the instruments of tyrannical control, the so-called “Century Of Humiliation” supplies the emotional Chauvinism, Maoist Marxism-Leninism supplies the one-party-state, and the People’s Republic of China’s material power supplies the opportunity. The ultimate chauvinistic objective is to conquer the world, but the more realistic strategic goal is to construct an international order, in which states remain formally sovereign, but increasingly accommodate themselves to the People’s Republic of China’s indisputably superior position. In short, Beijing officially advocates equality among states, while always practicing hierarchy among relationships.
Confucius’s philosophy is hierarchical and not democratic. He did not conceive society as an association of autonomous and politically equal individuals. He understood it as an interconnected system of relationships, each containing reciprocal, but unequal responsibilities: ruler and subject, father and son, husband and wife, elder and younger, and teacher and pupil. The superior party in every relationship is obliged to behave benevolent and the subordinate owes respect as well as obedience in return. Authority is justified by moral conduct rather than popular consent. This distinction is absolutely critical. Confucianism is not merely authoritarianism. The ruler could lose moral legitimacy by becoming cruel, corrupt, or incompetent. Yet, the remedy is not a competitive election, constitutional limitation, or individual resistance. It is the restoration of virtuous government – generally under another supposedly virtuous ruler. In this political construct, three concepts are especially relevant. First, Li, which is proper conduct and observance of one’s appropriate place. Political peace exists when everyone behaves according to his or her proposed status. Second, Ren, benevolence or human conduct. The ruler is expected to act as a moral father, not merely as a coercive master. Third, the “rectification of names” requires that reality conform to properly defined roles. A ruler must behave as a ruler, a minister as a minister, and a subject as a subject. Applied internationally, this produces an order that is harmonious, but not equal. Smaller states may be respected, protected, and permitted considerable autonomy, but they are expected to recognize the superior status and essential interests of the most powerful state. That is the Confucian bargain. Deference from below in exchange for benevolence from above.
Guided by this internal Chinese political thought, the Emperor was not only the ruler of a territorially bounded state. He was the “Son of Heaven,” standing at the center of Tianxia – “All Under Heaven.” Accordingly, the Universe was understood concentrically. The tributary system reflected this outlook. Imperial China occupied the center and others adjusted their conducts accordingly. Yet, Confucius’s hierarchical moralism did not always comply with reality. Legalists such as Han Feizi distrusted moral persuasion. Xi Jinping’s People’s Republic rejects pure moralism and emphasizes centralized authority, strict law and punishment regime, administrative surveillance, manipulation of reward and penalties, secrecy and strategic deception, and the ruler’s control over officials and institutions. The result might be called Confucian-Marxist-Leninist-Chinese paternalism with legalist enforcement.
And herein lies the disingenuous malevolence of the People’s Republic of China’s foreign policy under Xi Jinping. It constantly invokes “sovereignty,” “noninterference’” and the formal equality of states. These principles are useful defenses against Western criticism of Beijing’s domestic government. Yet, Beijing’s practical diplomacy is highly relational. Countries are treated according to their political importance, economic usefulness, geographical proximity, and willingness to respect Chinese preferences. Beijing, therefore, accepts juridical equality, while seeking political gradation. A small country may retain its flag, government, and vote at the United Nations, yet become dependent on Chinese markets, investment, infrastructure, technology, or diplomatic protection. Beijing does not need to abolish the state’s independence. It merely needs those governments to respect Beijing’s interests. The real example of such a materialized hierarchy is the “Belt and Road” initiative. It is simultaneously an infrastructure program, an export mechanism for Chinese industrial capacity, an instrument of political access, a system of strategic connectivity, and a narrative of Chinese benevolent leadership. Also called the “Debt Trap,” the recipient countries are expected not to challenge the benefactor’s fundamental interests.
In these light, Beijing’s position on Taiwan is simply the rectification of historical order. There can be only one China. Taiwan must return to the political center. This resembles the Confucian rectification of names: political reality must be forced into conformity with the authoritative definition of the relationship. Yet, Taiwan also exposes the limits of the Confucian explanation. Beijing’s policy is driven by chauvinism, Communist legitimacy, military strategy, and the unfinished Chinese Civil War – not merely ancient philosophy. Equally, the South China Sea conundrum. Beijing always presents itself as Asia’s natural stabilizer. Yet, its maritime claims, artificial islands, coastguard operations and pressure against neighboring claimants indicate that Beijing expects smaller countries to accommodate Chinese power. Here the Confucian dictum of benevolent hierarchy encounters a fundamental paradox: who determines whether the superior is behaving benevolently?
In Beijing’s preferred order, the People’s Republic of China is always entitled to judge its own conduct. In a rule-based order, independent treaties, tribunals, and institutions provide universal standards. Beijing accepts international law when it reinforces sovereignty, but resists adjudication when it constraints claims regarded as historically, or politically essential.
The same uniquely Chinese perspective applies to the Russian Federation. Publicly, Beijing treats Putin’s Russia as a major strategic partner. Yet, the Kremlin’s growing economic and technological dependence increasingly favors Beijing. Xi Jinping need not humiliate the Kremlin, or demand formal subordination. Confucian-style hierarchy works more effectively when ceremonial respect conceals material inequality. Russia receives diplomatic support, markets, and strategic reassurance. Beijing gains energy, geopolitical leverage, and a partner against American power. The relationship is not a formal alliance, but its structure is moving steadily toward the People’s Republic of China as the stronger elder partner, and the Russian Federation as the increasingly dependent one.
Beijing’s diplomacy in Africa, Latin America, the Middle East, and the Pacific appeals to resentment of colonialism as well as conditionality. Here, Beijing portrays itself as a responsible major power assisting developing countries, while respecting their chosen political systems. Xi Jinping’s preferred slogan, a “community with a shared future for mankind,” is perhaps the clearest modern adaptation of Tianxia. Yet, the crucial ambiguity is whether this “community” would be governed by genuinely equal rules, or by an implicit hierarchy, in which Beijing defines harmony, and labels resistance “confrontation.”
Beijing’s foreign policy contains a central contradiction inherited from Confucian hierarchy itself. Confucianism holds that authority is legitimate when exercised virtuously. Yet, international politics contains no universally accepted procedure for determining “virtue.” Consequently, “harmony” can acquire two meanings: genuine accommodation of competing interests, or the absence of visible resistance to Beijing. Likewise “mutual respect” can mean either reciprocal recognition, or recognition of Beijing’s special sensitivities without equivalent Chinese restraint.
In conclusion, Beijing does not seek merely to resurrect the ancient tributary system. Nor is Xi Jinping mechanically implementing Confucius. Modern China is a nuclear-armed industrial power governed by a single party with convoluted ideologies that is competing within a Westphalian international system. Nevertheless, the Confucian inheritance matters profoundly. It shapes Beijing’s assumption that order is relational, that hierarchy can coexist with benevolence, that duties differ according to status, and that harmony is preferable to adversarial pluralism. Clearly, Beijing seeks a formally multilateral, but substantively hierarchical international order – one, in which states remain sovereign, yet increasingly defer to Beijing on questions the ruler defines as essential. This worldview is not the restoration of the old Chinese empire, but it is unmistakably the modern reconstruction of a tyrannical Sinocentric order.