The historic gains made by Japan’s ruling coalition in this election have determined the country’s path toward self-armament and the revival of militarism. If this represents a serious blunder by Beijing, the fault does not lie in China’s verbal attacks and military intimidation toward Japan, but rather in Beijing’s decision to stop at verbal attacks and military posturing—without daring to challenge the U.S.-Japan Security Treaty.
Japanese Prime Minister Takaichi Sanae launched a surprise dissolution of the Diet and called for a snap election while her approval ratings remained high, aiming to rescue the Liberal Democratic Party (LDP) from its slump. In hindsight, her method involved provoking China and adopting a nationalist line to consolidate support, resulting in a historic landslide victory. By contrast, similar attempts in France in 2024 and Germany in 2025 ended in failure.
Both France and Germany lost to far-right forces, while Japan saw a far-right triumph. Although each country had its own complex factors leading to opposite electoral outcomes, the rise of the far right is an undeniable fact, aligning with Donald Trump’s desire for a collective “rightward turn” across the Western world.
This collective rightward shift in the West is not good news for China, as it means the Western Hemisphere will erect various barriers against China, disrupting its global strategy. However, Japan’s revival of militarism may not necessarily be bad news for China, because Beijing could use pressure on Japan—and ultimately unify Taiwan—to deter the damage to China’s overseas interests caused by the West’s rightward tilt.
If there is any country in the world against which China could rapidly mobilize the entire nation for war, it is undoubtedly Japan. From China’s perspective, Japan is the only World War II-defeated nation that has never truly shouldered responsibility for its defeat. Postwar Japan became a U.S. vassal—constrained yet protected.
Historical memories remain vivid: the Chinese people have never forgotten the blood debt. The current Japanese right wing hyping the Taiwan issue consists precisely of the inheritors of the militarism that launched the invasion of China. Moreover, Taiwan’s current ruling party is extremely pro-Japan, viewed by China as a group of Taiwanese who betray their ancestors through “colonial nostalgia” (Japan colonized Taiwan for 50 years until the end of World War II). This creates both historical and contemporary reasons why Takaichi’s exploitation of the Taiwan issue provokes particularly strong Chinese resentment.
No Chinese person can tolerate a former colonizer and defeated nation continuing to use an incompletely unified former colony to provoke China. From a historical viewpoint, the current Taiwan issue is a legacy of World War II, as is the Ryukyu Islands issue—both treated by the U.S. and Japan as geopolitical spheres of influence and territory.
Japan’s invasion of China caused at least 35 million military and civilian casualties—roughly equivalent to Poland’s current total population.
For this reason, Beijing cannot refrain from loudly condemning Japan’s hype over the Taiwan issue (implying military intervention by Japan in a Taiwan Strait conflict) and launching various countermeasures. Failing to do so would lead to questions about Xi Jinping’s leadership from the Chinese people.
However, because U.S. interests are involved, all countermeasures have been restrained under the requirement of “struggle without breaking.” This has left the Japanese right wing fearless of the consequences of anti-China actions. They believe Beijing is a paper tiger: as long as Tokyo’s ruling party can consolidate power, Beijing will find ways to adapt to the new situation—a pattern traceable in China-Japan relations. China has compromised for development and to avoid war with America’s proxies.
“On the U.S. side, its global strategy has grown ever clearer: in the Western Hemisphere, it pursues aggressive conquest and plunder—seizing territory, resources, privileges, and influence wherever possible—to consolidate its hegemonic dominance and exclude Chinese influence; yet in East Asia, it adopts a low-key posture to evade direct confrontation with China and avoid provoking full-scale countermeasures. This tactical approach effectively prevents China from gradually eroding American interests.”
Thus, in handling the deterioration of China-Japan relations, Trump appears to downplay U.S. support for Japan, but given Tokyo’s growing importance in the U.S.-China rivalry, the U.S. welcomes Japan’s rightward shift to serve its broader Western “rightward turn” strategic interests. Washington superficially reassures Beijing while substantively supporting Japan’s right-wing self-armament.
Facts prove Tokyo’s judgment correct: Trump publicly endorsed Takaichi and the ruling coalition just before Japan’s election, disregarding potential negative impacts on U.S. interests from worsening China-Japan ties. Trump dared to do this likely because he judged that Beijing would not challenge the U.S.-Japan Security Treaty, would not rush to resolve the Taiwan issue, and would not even refuse the April U.S.-China leaders’ summit.
America obviously reckons Japan’s rightward drift is ideal—it allows them to play the good-guy peacemaker, stepping in to mediate peace on the surface, while quietly keeping their abacus beads in place to lock in the unchanged Taiwan Strait status quo. This judgment has been empirically validated: through varied and flexible tactics, Trump has repeatedly proven that Beijing will concede for its own development—even on core interests.
In Venezuela and Panama, the U.S. twice challenged China’s strategic interests in South America; in Greenland and Iran, it attempted to disrupt China’s Arctic and Middle East layouts; and in Taiwan, Japan, and the Philippines, it superficially respects China’s core interests while accelerating armament of the first island chain. In these places, China’s responses have been slow and self-restrained, as if deeply afraid of bursting the “U.S.-China truce” atmosphere.
Tactically, these offensive actions help Trump force Xi Jinping to the negotiating table to “divide the cake.” After Trump’s maneuvers, the world sees Xi Jinping—who had always taken a passive stance on U.S.-China leader calls—finally initiating a call to Trump. Regardless of what was discussed, it favors the side eager to negotiate—and the world knows Trump is the urgent one.
Regarding Japan’s current changes, many view Beijing’s “overreaction” as a major misjudgment, helping Takaichi gain broad voter support and rescuing the LDP from the bottom. However, the so-called “overreaction” was not wrong; the mistake lies in the mismatch between rhetoric and action and between action and actual strength.
In the early stages of Takaichi’s Taiwan hype, Beijing used high-pitched, intense rhetoric to rapidly mobilize nationwide anti-Japan sentiment. Yet compared to the 2012 fallout over the Diaoyu/Senkaku Islands—claimed by China, Japan, and Taiwan—which sparked high anti-Japan fervor in Chinese society, this time, China’s domestic propaganda was quite restrained, and as a result, no incidents of violent attacks on Japanese people or Japanese assets occurred in society.
According to Japanese media analysis, this unusual calm stems from China’s internal economic contraction and widespread public resentment toward the government. Xi Jinping fears that people might use anti-Japan banners to vent all dissatisfaction through street violence, leading to loss of control. This judgment is reasonable, showing Tokyo’s deep understanding of Xi’s “stability above all” leadership style.
On the other hand, Beijing greatly values the “U.S.-China truce” détente period, so externally it is unwilling to extinguish the flames of Japan’s militaristic revival by challenging the U.S.-Japan Security Treaty.
If Xi Jinping wants to crack the U.S. strategy of arming Japan to disrupt China’s development, the most direct and effective way is to make the U.S. unable to stand aside on the brink of war. East Asia has no shortage of flashpoints: Taiwan is one; the Diaoyu Islands (which Japan includes in the Ryukyus) is another. China could militarily occupy the Diaoyu Islands to force the U.S. to restrain Japan’s right wing.
But Xi has not done so, reconfirming Trump’s assessment of Beijing: China currently has no intention of actively showdown at any level, even on core interests. Thus, the U.S. can accelerate nibbling at China’s secondary interests, and Japan can accelerate self-armament, achieve national normalization, and threaten China’s core interests.
In other words, if Beijing bears partial responsibility for Japan’s militaristic revival, the fault is not in “verbal attacks and military intimidation,” but in stopping at verbal attacks and military intimidation. This situation fully illustrates China’s strategic correctness but tactical deficiency.
Yet everything has two sides; erroneous decisions can sometimes lead to correct outcomes.
The U.S. tacitly allowing Japan’s militaristic revival helps Beijing sideline internal doves and shift to hawkish decision-making—otherwise, it would be hard to relieve pressure from the Chinese people.
In short, Japan’s self-armament and path to “national normalization” (amending the Peace Constitution) will inevitably face wave after wave of Chinese countermeasures. In this process, increasingly close Taiwan-Japan ties will heighten Beijing’s sense of urgency in resolving the Taiwan issue. Simply put, Japan’s self-armament will be incorporated into China’s strategy for resolving Taiwan, inevitably increasing the proportion of military action.
Of course, the U.S. will inevitably be drawn into pre-war military confrontations.
Although Beijing now appears in a dilemma and Xi seems weak, do not underestimate Chinese wisdom. China sees America’s and Japan’s strategies and tactics clearly and knows how to counter them. Xi is merely waiting for a moment when he cannot avoid sending troops—or even deliberately allowing the U.S. to misjudge China’s resolve on core interests, repeatedly arming the first island chain. By the opponent’s advances, China accumulates legitimacy for war, then expels the U.S. presence in East Asia in one stroke.
War is not China’s desire, but the opponent is inducing war, gradually eroding the doves’ position in Beijing. “Using war to stop war” could become mainstream opinion at any time, and the U.S. cannot avoid involvement.
Of course, America and Japan are not foolish; they will not fully replicate 1930s militarism but will cautiously expand arms at the edge of Beijing’s tolerance. Nor can one rule out a peaceful U.S.-China deal—though the process would not be smooth, it would buy time for both sides to showdown, while Japan anxiously waits in the wings.
East Asia is now the world’s most peaceful yet most dynamic region. Maintaining peace here is China’s greatest strategic interest, yet the U.S. is arming the region—making Sino-U.S. contradictions inevitable. Repeated concessions are not the solution; taking military action to safeguard peace will become China’s “strategic correctness.”
In any case, China-Japan relations can hardly return to the past. Beijing has no reason to allow East Asia’s second-largest economy to “militarize,” nor to let the U.S. achieve a proxy war that consumes China. Thus, if trends continue, China challenging the U.S.-Japan Security Treaty is only a matter of time.
What Beijing must now consider is whether to resolve Japan and the U.S. first or Taiwan first. Perhaps resolving the Taiwan Strait, East China Sea, and South China Sea issues together is the best solution. If peace is desired and America’s great-power dignity maintained, Trump must work hard to find consensus on the deal’s price.
If so, indirectly facilitating Japan’s militaristic revival was not a Beijing misjudgment but the opening of a door to decisive victory.
