By Eric Vandenbroeck and co-workers
Berlin’s Delicate Balance With Beijing
One of the subjects
we have covered quite in-depth is how through extensive training, Europe has
helped give Ukraine a crucial edge in force quality. But the United States and
its European allies should begin planning to sustain Ukrainian combat
effectiveness with extra reserve forces over a potentially long
counteroffensive. Greater U.S. support would help increase the training volume
and maintain European providers' resolve if their efforts failed to materialize
into quick Ukrainian gains on the battlefield. The willingness of European
countries to put significant resources on the line—even in areas where the
United States is doing comparatively little—has become increasingly vital to
Ukraine’s defense and will be crucial to its continued
success.
It is impossible to
precisely assess the odds that Putin will use nuclear weapons in Ukraine. But
uncertainty and imprecision are not the same as ignorance. Psychological theory
and evidence, backed by the history of warfare, point to a high enough risk
that Western governments must plan. They should weigh now their possible
responses to an escalation that would come as a shock but should not come as a
surprise. Unlike opinion surveys that posit a hypothetical risk to U.S.
soldiers, Putin’s vulnerability is real and
considerable.
In 2020, the European
Union’s foreign policy chief, Josep Borrell, called
on Europe to forge its “own way” with China and distance itself from the “open
confrontation” approach pursued by U.S. President Donald Trump. The goal of
Borrell’s “Sinatra doctrine,” so named after the song “My Way,” was for the EU
to avoid becoming either “a Chinese colony or an American colony” amid a Cold
War–like struggle between Washington and Beijing. Striking such a balance,
Borrell argued, would allow Europe to retain the benefits of strong economic
ties with China, which he and most other European policymakers at that time saw
as far outweighing the risk of giving Beijing too much influence.
Three years later,
the geoeconomic landscape is very different—as are EU perceptions of China. The
European bloc has grown disenchanted with Beijing’s opaque handling of the
COVID-19 pandemic, its implicit support for Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, and
its increasingly assertive foreign policy. The EU-China Comprehensive
Agreement on Investment, hastily inked in December 2020 before U.S. President
Joe Biden took office, was put on hold after China imposed sanctions on EU
lawmakers and is now on indefinite hiatus. The “Russia shock” has jolted leaders, exposing the unsettling reality
that Europe’s biggest problem is not a pushy ally across the Atlantic but
rather deep vulnerabilities to potential Chinese coercion.
Over the past six
months, European Commission President Ursula von der Leyen has led the charge
to reorient the EU’s stance toward China. In a speech in March, she championed a plan to safeguard
Europe’s economic security by “de-risking” its relationship with China—that is,
reducing critical vulnerabilities resulting from overdependence, especially in
the health, digital, and clean-technology sectors, and deterring economic
coercion while seeking to cooperate on broader challenges such as climate
change. Rather than pitting Europe against the United States, as Borrell had,
von der Leyen sought to bridge the transatlantic divide—at least rhetorically.
And indeed, her approach has resonated with the Biden administration, which has
adopted the term “de-risking” to dispel fears that it is pushing for
“decoupling,” a complete severing of economic ties with China.
Yet European strategy
toward China is far from settled: European policymakers continue to vigorously
debate how far the EU should go to diversify its economic
relationships and curtail trade and investment with China in critical areas.
And despite EU efforts to define a new China policy, Germany remains the real
linchpin: as the continent’s economic engine and its largest exporter of goods
to China, Berlin will play an outsize role in determining a new approach. In
July, after half a year of delay, Germany finally published its new China strategy, which
calls for greater coordination with Brussels and Washington while
preserving deep economic ties and overall cooperation with Beijing. The success
or failure of this approach will hinge on how it is implemented: Berlin must
live up to its new, stricter rhetoric and avoid repeating the costly mistakes
it made with Russia, which on the eve of the invasion of Ukraine, was supplying
more than half of Germany’s natural gas and was not taken seriously by Germany
as a potential security threat to Europe. Should Berlin not walk the talk but
prioritize economic benefits at the expense of unmitigated geopolitical risk
exposure against a more assertive China, it could wind up just as vulnerable to
economic coercion in another security crisis, perhaps over Taiwan. Whether the
European way with China is right is largely up to Germany.
Dangerous Dependencies
China is the EU’s
largest partner for imports of goods and accounts for more than half of the import value of the bloc’s 137 most
foreign-dependent products. This dependence on China underscores Beijing’s
diverse leverage, including its potential to weaponize its position as a
dominant supplier of critical minerals and other key industrial inputs, as
Russia did with oil and gas. Over the last two years, the Biden administration
has worked with U.S. allies and partners to tighten export restrictions to
China, exacerbating China’s bottlenecks in developing technology. In response,
Beijing has recently hit back with export controls on gallium and germanium,
essential elements for the production of chips, radar, and fiber optics,
demonstrating its willingness to use coercive economic measures that escalate
tensions. As significant world powers retreat from hyperglobalization
and economic policy becomes more security-oriented, Germany and other EU
countries should be wary of maintaining unfettered economic ties with China.
This concern has not
been lost on policymakers and industry leaders in Germany, who have expressed
mounting doubts about the country’s increasingly unbalanced economic
relationship with its top trading partner. Germany’s consistent overall trade
surplus contrasts starkly with its growing trade deficit with China, which hit
a record high of $93 billion in 2022—a staggering 120 percent increase over the
previous year’s figure, reflecting a new and alarming dependence on imports
from China. China’s expanding investments in German strategic sectors have also
stoked national security fears, notably since the Chinese appliance maker Midea
Group acquired Kuka, one of Germany’s most innovative robotics engineering
companies, in 2016.
Despite these
creeping vulnerabilities, Berlin has little appetite for overhauling its
economic relations with China. German manufacturers are struggling with high
energy prices and the adverse effects of the Biden administration’s industrial
policies, including those introduced through the Inflation Reduction Act,
designed to favor American businesses. Moreover, leading German automakers
still consider China their second home market, even as they grapple with lower profitability and declining sales in the country
after long ignoring the competition from Chinese EV companies. Amid uncertainty
about the strength of the German economy—which entered into a technical
recession in the first quarter of 2023—many German policymakers remain anxious
about the nation’s economic resilience. Household names like Volkswagen and the
chemical manufacturer BASF are particularly exposed to economic coercion or a
sudden disruption of trade with China: Volkswagen derives at least half of its annual net profit
from the Chinese market, and BASF invested a record high 10 billion euros in
China in 2022. Overall, German investments in China are also
increasing.
Germany’s three-party
coalition must thread a difficult policy needle: tread cautiously with its most
important economic partner but heed the growing economic risks of integration.
Germany’s first national security strategy released in June mentioned China
only cursorily, and Taiwan tensions not at all, raising expectations for the
long-awaited China strategy. German Chancellor Olaf Scholz has repeatedly
called for a recalibrated approach to China. Still, the Greens, who lead the
foreign and economic ministries, are driving the domestic debate on China,
putting Scholz’s more cautious Social Democrats in zugzwang. The Green-led
Foreign Ministry crafted the China strategy, and its assessments of the
challenges posed by Beijing are surprisingly clear-eyed. In a passage that
would have been unthinkable just a few years ago, the document acknowledges
that China is “pursuing its interests far more assertively” and attempting “to
reshape the existing rules-based international order.”
Tellingly, the German
government postponed the strategy’s (already delayed) release until Chinese
Premier Li Qiang visited Berlin for the seventh round of consultations between the two
governments, his first trip abroad since taking office in March. In a meeting
with about a dozen German industry leaders, Li proposed that corporations, not governments, should be in
charge of de-risking and that de-risking requires strengthening cooperation,
whereas decoupling would not work. Berlin’s aim in welcoming Li was to
reassure Beijing that Germany does not seek to decouple and still sees China as
a partner for the German economy and to address challenging issues such as
climate change. Scholz’s Social Democrats were concerned about confrontational
wording in the China strategy. They watered down the initial version drafted by
the Foreign Ministry during drawn-out debates within the country’s governing
three-party coalition until its eventual publication in July.
The strategy aims to
recalibrate Germany’s increasingly unbalanced economic relationship with
China and align it with Germany’s broader geopolitical aims. At the same time,
Chancellor Olaf Scholz is careful not to put China into the same box as Russia,
whose invasion of Ukraine prompted the Zeitenwende,
or sea change, in Germany’s security and defense policy. The strategy
explicitly commits Germany to economic de-risking as its guiding principle. It
aims to reduce the country’s vulnerabilities in areas where dependence on China
could pose national security threats. The strategy largely embraces the sharper
instruments endorsed by the European Commission, including coordinated
export controls. But it stops short of requiring screenings for outbound
investment, as called for by the European Commission, committing only to
“consider” them.
Obligatory stress
tests and mandatory reporting for companies heavily exposed to China also did
not make it into the final draft of the German government’s strategy, which
aligns with Scholz’s recent statements about placing the onus on companies
rather than governments to diversify away from China. Finally, the strategy
lacks a mechanism to monitor critical areas of German dependence on China—for
instance, in electronics. These omissions weaken an otherwise strong policy of
economic de-risking.
Germany’s
new China strategy is, at its core, an economic security strategy in
which hard security issues are only secondary considerations. This underscores
the gulf between German and American priorities regarding China. The strategy
is most explicit about security concerns when it discusses Russian-Chinese
cooperation, threatening consequences if China delivers weapons to Russia, and
calling China’s defense of Ukraine’s sovereignty “not credible.” It also
promises greater military cooperation with Indo-Pacific partners and a
temporary military presence there. Otherwise, the strategy avoids outlining
actions or a role for Germany in a geopolitical confrontation with China—for
example, over Taiwan.
A Beginning, Not An End
Concerns about
China’s ability to wield its comparative advantage in trade against its competitors
have brought the United States and Europe closer to the de-risking agenda. But
significant differences persist, and Germany’s new China strategy underscores
these differences. Although the strategy adopts undeniably tougher language
than Berlin has used in China, it does not represent a radical departure from
the government’s previous approach. Instead, it aims to sustain German
prosperity through trade with China while cautiously hedging against
geopolitical risks. Germany acknowledges the reality of increasing Chinese
assertiveness and seeks to “keep geopolitical aspects in mind when making
economic decisions,” the strategy states. But Berlin does not want to become a
part of a confrontational “bloc” against China. As the strategy document puts it,
cooperation with China remains “fundamental” to solving “many of the most
pressing global challenges.”
For the United
States, which sees the economic challenges posed by China as inextricably
linked to the geopolitical ones, for instance, in the Indo-Pacific, the new
German strategy does not go far enough. But Europeans do not view China’s rise
through the same prism as the United States. They continue to see it primarily
as an economic challenge and less as a security threat. Europe still enjoys a
third-party vantage point. From this perspective, the United States and China
are embroiled in a global hegemonic rivalry, a different order of competition
from Europe and China. Although they cannot escape the realities of great-power
rivalry and China’s growing assertiveness, Europeans treat geopolitics as a
tactical risk to avoid rather than an arena to engage in tandem with the United
States.
Germany’s vision for a
“European way” may be trying to have it both ways—reaping economic gains while
underestimating hard security and geopolitical risks. If it succeeds, Berlin
will prove that it is possible to cooperate and compete without escalating
geopolitical tensions. Germany’s strategy might then be seen as a sensible
recalibration of Europe’s approach to China, which is attuned to European
circumstances and distinct from the U.S. approach. But with a war raging
in Europe and the 2024 U.S. presidential election on the horizon, just hedging
against the risks of a rupture with China may not be enough. The EU and Germany
may need to harness their economic clout to shape the geopolitical environment
actively.
In practice, that
means that Germany should aim to lead the China debate with the European
Commission. To achieve this, it must avoid sending mixed signals, as it did in
its May 2023 agreement to sell a nearly 25 percent stake in a
Hamburg port container terminal to the Chinese company COSCO in defiance of new
German regulations to protect critical infrastructure. Berlin must also avoid
overestimating China’s influence over Russia and resist making major
concessions to Beijing to curb Russia’s aggression against Ukraine—a hope that
may be unfounded in light of the ever-closer cooperation between Russia and
China. Finally, Germany must not assume, as it did with Russia, that dependence
on the European market will constrain China’s geopolitical ambitions. This
would be another colossal mistake.
Germany’s new China
strategy is an essential step toward a more realistic assessment of Germany’s
economic vulnerabilities as it becomes dangerously exposed to any disruptions
caused by or emanating from China. With its focus on financial risks and only
secondary consideration of hard security issues, it is in danger of being
quickly overtaken in a rapidly evolving geopolitical environment. Even amid
political infighting at home, Berlin must constantly reassess its exposure to
potential economic coercion. What is considered an acceptable risk today may
look entirely different a year. Without such reassessment, the country’s
current approach could slow down the debate within the EU instead of advancing
it. Germany’s China strategy provides a baseline, but the work lies ahead.
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