Strategic Ambiguity, Clarity or Retreat on Taiwan, Compared

Here is the dirty little secret of American policy on Taiwan: for decades it has been written so that nobody can quote it back to us. The official position is a sentence engineered like a legal disclaimer, full of "acknowledges" and "does not challenge" and "such defense articles as may be necessary." It is the diplomatic equivalent of "my lawyer will call your lawyer." It has kept the peace for a long time, which counts for a lot, and it has also left ordinary Americans with no clear idea of what they are being asked to stand behind.

So let's do what the diplomats rarely do. Lay the options on the table, literally, with a chart. There are three: ambiguity, clarity and retreat. Each has a price, each has a constituency, and each fails in its own way. The conservative job is not to wave a flag for one of them. It is to understand what each costs, who pays, and what we should demand of whoever picks.

The paper trail you need to know

Almost every argument about Taiwan is secretly an argument about a handful of documents. Know them and you can follow any debate.

1. The Shanghai Communique, February 28, 1972. Issued at the end of President Nixon's trip, it recorded that the United States "acknowledged" the Chinese position that there is one China and that Taiwan is part of it, and did not challenge that position. Notice the verb. To acknowledge a position is not to adopt it. The wording was chosen on purpose. See our post on Nixon went to China and what the 1972 trip teaches about hard bargaining.
2. The normalization communique, effective January 1, 1979. The United States recognized the government of the People's Republic of China as the sole legal government of China, and ended formal diplomatic relations with Taipei. The Mutual Defense Treaty with the Republic of China was terminated, effective a year later. Senator Barry Goldwater, a Republican, challenged the President's power to end a treaty without the Senate in Goldwater v. Carter, and the Supreme Court sent the case away without ruling on the merits in 1979.
3. The Taiwan Relations Act, April 10, 1979. Congress, not the President, supplied the missing piece. The Act declared that the United States will make available to Taiwan the defense articles and services necessary for a sufficient self-defense capability. It said that any effort to determine Taiwan's future by other than peaceful means, including boycotts or embargoes, is of grave concern to the United States. And it directed that America maintain the capacity to resist force or coercion that would jeopardize the security or the social or economic system of the people of Taiwan. What it did not do is promise to send the Army. It is a law about arms and about America's ability to respond, not a treaty of alliance.
4. The August 17, 1982 communique. In it the United States stated that it did not seek a long-term policy of arms sales to Taiwan, and intended gradually to reduce them, on the understanding that China sought a peaceful resolution. This is the document critics of Beijing say it has never lived up to.
5. The Six Assurances, July 1982. The Reagan administration gave Taiwan six assurances, conveyed privately and later made public, to balance the communique. Among them: America had not agreed to set a date for ending arms sales, had not agreed to consult Beijing in advance on arms sales, would not mediate between Taipei and Beijing, would not pressure Taiwan to negotiate with Beijing, had not agreed to revise the Taiwan Relations Act, and had not changed its position on sovereignty over Taiwan.

That is the framework: three communiques, one statute, six assurances. If you remember nothing else, remember that the statute is the only part passed by Congress and signed into law. It carries the weight a communique cannot.

The options at a glance

Now the three, one at a time.

Option one: strategic ambiguity

The idea. America does not say what it would do. It sells Taiwan the means to defend itself, maintains the capacity to act, and leaves Beijing uncertain about whether it would. That uncertainty is meant to work in two directions at once. It deters Beijing from invading, because Beijing cannot be sure America would stay out. And it deters Taipei from declaring formal independence, because Taipei cannot be sure America would back it if it provoked a crisis. Analysts call that dual deterrence.

The case for it. It has an impressive record: the peace held for decades. It preserves flexibility for a President who does not have to commit in advance. It gives Beijing a reason to keep waiting, and waiting is not war. And it respects Congress, because the real decision to fight is not made in advance by a diplomatic phrase.

The case against it. Ambiguity depends on a balance that can slip. The danger is miscalculation. If Beijing concludes that America will not fight, or that America will fight and loses, the signal fails. It also asks Taiwan's own people to live permanently under a question mark. The fashionable line that "ambiguity keeps the peace" is true until the day it is not, and a policy that works until it stops working is a policy that deserves a very good backup plan.

Option two: strategic clarity

The idea. America says openly that it would defend Taiwan. No hedging, no sentence designed to be misread.

The case for it. Wars often start because someone misjudges the other side. A clear commitment removes that risk. If Beijing knew for certain that an attack meant war with the United States, the thinking goes, it would be far less likely to try. Clarity is how deterrence works at its most basic level, a theme in our post on Why Deterrence Is a Promise You Have to Be Willing to Keep. NATO's Article 5 is the model: it is written down, so the commitment itself is no mystery, even though each member decides how to respond.

The case against it. Three problems, and they are not trivial.

1. Who has the power to commit? The Constitution gives Congress the power to declare war. A President can say anything, but a sentence from the Oval Office is not a treaty, and it does not bind a Congress that was not consulted. A real commitment would need the Senate's two-thirds vote on a treaty, or an act of Congress. A promise that evaporates when the next Congress sits is worse than none, because it creates false confidence. See Who Decides on War? The Constitution, the 1973 Law and the Gray Zone.
2. Moral hazard. If Taipei believes it has a blank cheque, it may take risks it would otherwise avoid. That is why dual deterrence matters.
3. Credibility cuts both ways. If you draw a line, you must be prepared to defend it, with the ships, the aircraft and the munitions to do so. Clarity without capability is a bluff, and bluffs get called.

Option three: retreat

The idea. America ends its commitments, stops arms sales and lets Taiwan and Beijing work it out.

The case for it. It is the honest version of a real argument. Some thoughtful people, including some on the right, hold that the stakes do not justify risking a war between nuclear powers over an island that is not part of any treaty alliance with us. They remind us that America cannot be the world's policeman, and that our first duty is to our own people. Those are respectable arguments, and the restraint school on the right has made them well. If you are weighing the costs, it is fair to put the cost of war on the scale. Our post on Hawks, Restrainers, Realists and Nationalists on the Right, Compared sets out where the factions stand.

The case against it. Here is where I think the argument fails. First, geography. Taiwan sits in the chain of islands that runs from Japan through Taiwan to the Philippines, a chain that bounds the Pacific approaches for American allies. Control of Taiwan would change the military map. Second, credibility. If America abandons a democracy of about two dozen million people that it has armed under federal law for decades, what does a promise to Japan or South Korea mean? Allies would draw conclusions, and so would adversaries. Third, industry. Taiwan is a major maker of advanced semiconductors, and a Beijing that controlled that capacity would hold a lever on the world's technology. Fourth, the statute. Retreat would mean repudiating a law that Congress passed with big majorities. A President who wants to do that should come to Congress and say so, not do it by drift.

One hypothetical, three responses

Tables are tidy. Crises are not. So take a hypothetical, and I want to label it as one: suppose Beijing announces "customs inspections" of ships bound for Taiwan, a step short of a formal blockade. No shots, no invasion, just a bureaucratic tightening of the noose. The TRA names boycotts and embargoes as matters of grave concern, so this is exactly the kind of gray-zone move the Act contemplated.

Under ambiguity, Washington protests, sends ships through the strait, speeds arms deliveries and keeps its options open. The risk is that Beijing reads the response as hesitation and tightens the screw again. The reward is that no one has boxed America into a fight.

Under clarity, the answer is already on the record: America has said it will defend Taiwan, so the pressure is on Washington to act at once, with allies watching to see whether the words were real. The reward is a faster, firmer response. The risk is that a President who has pre-committed must either escalate or be exposed.

Under retreat, there is no answer, because there is no commitment. Beijing gets what it wants without firing a shot, and every other capital in Asia notes how it was done.

The lesson is not that one column wins every row. The lesson is that you should choose your policy before the crisis, not during it, and that you should know in advance which risk you are accepting.

Who each approach suits

• Ambiguity suits those who want to preserve peace and flexibility and believe the present balance is working. It fits a cautious President and a divided Congress.
• Clarity suits those who believe Beijing's capabilities are growing and the margin for error is shrinking. It fits an America that is prepared to rebuild its forces and to ask Congress for a formal commitment.
• Retreat suits those who believe the stakes are not worth the risk. It fits an America that is willing to accept a changed balance in the Pacific.

A fair summary is that ambiguity is the cheapest option in the short run, clarity is the most demanding in the long run, and retreat is the one with the biggest hidden bills.

What a conservative should demand from whoever picks

Whichever door the country walks through, there are things we should insist on.

1. Say it to Congress. The people who bear the risk, our soldiers and families, deserve a vote on any commitment that could take them into war. Executive statements are not a substitute.
2. Match words to capability. Do not make promises the fleet cannot keep. Fund the ships, the munitions and the industrial base to back whatever line is drawn. A cheap commitment is the most dangerous kind.
3. Keep the arms flowing. The Taiwan Relations Act directs defensive arms sales. Delay and backlog in delivering what Taiwan has bought undermines the whole structure.
4. Honour the Six Assurances. They were made by a Republican President to reassure a friend. Unmade by drift, they would tell every ally what our word is worth.
5. Tell the public the truth. If a policy might one day cost American lives, the voter should hear the case plainly, not through a communique in code.

The bottom line

• America's Taiwan policy rests on three communiques, one statute and six assurances, and only the statute, the Taiwan Relations Act, came from Congress.
• Ambiguity has kept the peace, but it depends on a balance that can slip. Clarity removes guesswork but raises constitutional and moral hazard questions. Retreat looks cheap and carries the biggest hidden bill.
• Whatever the choice, it belongs to Congress and the voters, not to a phrase in a diplomatic note.
• Judge any candidate or official by whether the words are matched by ships, munitions and a straight answer to the public.
• Read the Taiwan Relations Act yourself. It is short, it is public, and it will tell you more than any cable-news panel.