By chaining bilateral naval exercises across a widening circle of partners — Russia, Malaysia, Cambodia, Thailand, Vietnam, and now Indonesia — Beijing is not assembling an alliance. It is manufacturing the impression that a Chinese warship’s presence near every regional flashpoint, including the waters off Taiwan, is unremarkable.
On July 29th, the Indonesian frigate KRI I Gusti Ngurah Rai wrapped up a two-day naval drill with the Russian navy in Vladivostok, part of Exercise Orruda 2026. Two weeks later, on August 12th, China’s Ministry of National Defense announced that the same ship, on its way home, would run a “passing exercise” with a Chinese frigate, the Honghe — not in Indonesian waters, not in the South China Sea, but east of Taiwan. Jakarta’s navy described it in the blandest terms available: communications drills, a resupply run, “a universal naval tradition.” Taipei was not reassured. Taiwan’s foreign ministry said it “sternly condemns” the move and complained that Beijing had “unilaterally claimed” Indonesian participation before Jakarta had said a word about where, or why, this was happening.
That gap — between Jakarta’s shrug and Taipei’s alarm — is the story. It is also a useful corrective to how most coverage of Chinese naval activity is currently framed. The default lens is bilateral and confrontational: China versus the Philippines at Second Thomas Shoal, China versus Japan around the Senkakus, China versus Taiwan in the Strait. That lens catches real events, but it misses the connective tissue between them — a growing schedule of joint drills with third parties, each one small and individually deniable as “routine,” that collectively do something the confrontational track cannot: they make China’s presence in the surrounding water look normal to everyone except the state it is actually disputing with.
Indonesia and China have their own maritime dispute: Beijing’s nine-dash line overlaps Indonesia’s exclusive economic zone around the Natuna Islands, and Chinese fishing incursions there froze bilateral naval drills between 2015 and 2021. Those “Sharp Knife” exercises resumed in 2021 and have picked up pace since 2024. That history matters, but it is not what explains this month’s drill, because this drill did not happen anywhere near Natuna. It happened off Taiwan — waters Indonesia has no claim to and, until now, no naval presence in alongside China. Indonesia is simply the newest and most sensitive addition to a list that already includes Russia (the mature anchor partnership, most recently “Joint Sea-2026” in July), Malaysia (“Peace and Friendship 2025” in the Strait of Malacca last October), Cambodia (“Golden Dragon” at the newly built Ream Naval Base logistics center last spring), Thailand (“Blue Strike” and “Falcon Strike,” the latter launched again this month), and Vietnam (a Beibu Gulf coast guard and navy patrol series now past its fortieth iteration). All of this sits alongside a separate, unilateral track — a 100-plus-vessel show of force spanning the Yellow Sea to the western Pacific last December, and routine coast guard patrols around Scarborough Shoal and Second Thomas Shoal.
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The claim of this piece is that these two tracks are not separate stories about Chinese assertiveness. They are one story, working in tandem: the unilateral patrols draw the lines, and the bilateral drills erase them, by training a widening circle of regional navies — and the publics who read about them — to treat a Chinese warship’s presence near contested space as routine bilateral traffic rather than a signal.
The Indonesia case is the clearest evidence yet, because the location was Beijing’s choice, not Jakarta’s. Indonesia had no dispute-driven reason to be operating near Taiwan; its dispute with China sits in the Natuna Sea, hundreds of miles away. What Jakarta had was a frigate already at sea, returning from Russia, and a willingness to let Beijing choose the itinerary’s final leg. Global Times, writing for a domestic Chinese audience, called the drill’s timing “of great significance” — language China’s defense ministry does not use for routine port calls. The exercise also landed in the same week that Elbridge Colby, the U.S. Under Secretary of War for Policy, was in Jakarta courting Indonesia’s alignment. Chaining a Chinese passing exercise onto the tail of an Indonesian-Russian one, in waters adjacent to the most dangerous flashpoint in the region, at the exact moment Washington was making its own pitch, is not the profile of a routine bilateral courtesy call.
The strongest objection to this argument comes from analysts of Malaysia’s drills with China, who point out that Kuala Lumpur treats “Peace and Friendship” as a hedging tool it controls, not a concession Beijing extracted — the exercises are deliberately unsophisticated (humanitarian assistance, counter-piracy, no live fire), and Malaysia’s own defense establishment remains wary of Chinese assertiveness even as it participates. That is a fair description of Malaysia’s intent, and it likely holds for Cambodia and Thailand too: these governments are managing great-power competition on their own terms, not capitulating to it. But intent on the partner’s side does not determine the effect on Beijing’s side. Whatever Kuala Lumpur or Phnom Penh tell their own publics, every additional bilateral drill lowers the diplomatic and psychological cost, for Beijing, of being seen operating a warship near water someone else disputes. Indonesia’s case shows why that distinction matters: Jakarta’s intent was almost certainly routine — a frigate coming home. Beijing’s was not. It picked the coordinates.
None of this means China is close to fielding a formal coalition in the NATO sense; nothing here involves interoperability, shared command, or mutual defense. What it means is narrower and, in some ways, more useful to Beijing: a maintenance routine that makes normalization cumulative rather than a single dramatic claim to defend. Each additional partner adds one more government that has, at least once, treated a joint Chinese naval presence near contested water as unremarkable — and one more precedent for the next invitation.
The guest list is also instructive. The one claimant conspicuously absent from it is the Philippines — the country with the loudest ongoing disputes with Beijing, at Scarborough Shoal and Second Thomas Shoal, and the one treaty ally the United States has directly on the South China Sea’s rim. Manila gets unilateral coercion, not invitations: coast guard patrols, water-cannon incidents, and jamming, rather than passing exercises. Every partner on the actual list — Russia, Malaysia, Cambodia, Thailand, Vietnam, Singapore, Indonesia — either has no U.S. mutual defense treaty or, like Thailand, treats its treaty commitments as dormant rather than active. That is not a coincidence; it is a selection criterion. Beijing is not inviting the states most capable of resisting the normalization effect. It is inviting the states most likely to accept it, and saving coercion for the one state structurally immune to the charm offensive.
What happens next
Base case (roughly 55 percent). The Indonesia relationship deepens but recalibrates location. A higher-tempo revival of the Sharp Knife series continues, concentrated in Indonesian or South China Sea-adjacent waters near Natuna rather than repeated performances off Taiwan. Jakarta absorbs the diplomatic cost of this month’s episode privately — quiet reassurances to Taipei and Washington — while keeping the relationship with Beijing intact. The key assumption: the backlash from Taiwan and the attention from Washington made a second Taiwan-adjacent rerun more costly to Jakarta than its benefit to Beijing.
Downside case. Beijing repeats the chaining tactic with a second partner within the next twelve months, most plausibly Brunei — the quietest South China Sea claimant, which in February 2025 already agreed to joint oil-and-gas development with Beijing in disputed waters it claims. A first-ever Brunei-China passing exercise, timed to overlap with a Brunei exercise involving another power and staged near a genuinely contested reef rather than international water, would confirm this is a repeatable playbook rather than an Indonesia-specific improvisation — and would be far harder for the U.S. and Japan to counter, since Brunei has never been a vocal claimant to rally around.
Upside case. Taiwan’s public condemnation, paired with Washington’s trilateral drills with Australia and the Philippines, hardens into an explicit regional habit of naming the chaining tactic itself — not just the individual exercise — making it reputationally costly for the next candidate partner to accept the choreography. The coalition-of-drills strategy stalls not because China stops asking, but because fewer navies say yes.
The takeaway
Beijing did not build a coalition off Taiwan this month; it borrowed one, for two days, from a country with no stake in the fight. That is a cheaper and more durable tool than a formal alliance would be, and it will not show up as a single dramatic escalation — it will show up as a pattern, one passing exercise at a time.
Watch for: whether Indonesia’s navy does it again, and where. A repeat performance near another sensitive location within the next two quarters would confirm the pattern; a retreat to home waters would suggest Jakarta drew its own line. Watch, too, whether Brunei’s navy — quiet for decades — puts to sea with a Chinese frigate for the first time following its 2025 oil-and-gas pledge in disputed waters.
