China’s rising challenge presents an opportunity for the United States to articulate a more compelling world order grounded in its values, technologies, and a new set of infrastructures. The Vatican could help
In the early 1990s, as the victor of the Cold War, the United States embarked on its globalization project. In essence, this initiative promoted a straightforward theory: politics no longer mattered; trade and international commerce were the focal points. Consequently, the US championed an expansion of the General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade (GATT), which had been originally established after World War II but rejected by the Soviet Union and its allies, ultimately leading to the formation of the World Trade Organization (WTO).
GATT had been fragmented by the Cold War, functioning as an exclusive network for American allies until the 1990s. The WTO promised a more robust framework to regulate international commerce, capable of establishing comprehensive production rules, subsidies, and tariffs. Under this new regime, politics and political agreements were seen primarily as vehicles to facilitate trade.
Yet, 30 years later, this optimistic framework has been shattered by multiple factors. Chief among these is China, which, after joining the WTO in 2001, has continuously tested the boundaries of the organization’s rules without fully committing to its foundational principles. In addition, geopolitical tensions with Russia and the emergence of political challenges worldwide have further complicated the landscape.
Politics has reasserted itself at the forefront of international relations. Unlike three decades ago, as the world enters a new phase often referred to as Cold War II, there is no overarching political movement to help navigate these uncharted waters. While the foundational pillars of the post-World War II order still stand, the United States has grown increasingly impatient with these institutions. In recent years, some countries have manipulated the rules of the United Nations and its affiliated organizations and created a new reality in which the UN is no longer functioning as the US envisioned 80 years ago.
Eighty years ago, the United States, as the driving force behind the victory over fascism, agreed to share responsibilities with the Soviet Union, effectively dividing the world into two spheres of influence. Furthermore, it did not simply accept the return of colonial powers such as France and Britain; rather, it aided them in transitioning away from colonialism, ushering in a new phase of international relations. Today, while the world is not divided into two distinct camps, there remains a troubling league comprising Russia, China, and Iran.
Though colonialism is no longer a concern, the current global situation is perplexing. Ideally, the world should unite through trade and economic cooperation; however, many nations, China included, have sought to establish their distinctive spheres of influence, leading to a potentially disruptive scenario.
Understanding the broader picture is essential for navigating the intricate U.S.-China rivalry. The world’s future cannot be reduced to this duel alone; the interplay of multiple factors is far more complex.
The Cold War was not merely a battle between capitalism and socialism; it splintered into various confrontations around the globe. Non-aligned nations, including socialist countries such as China, Yugoslavia, and Albania, often found themselves at odds with Moscow as with the US. Additionally, the Organization of the Petroleum Exporting Countries (OPEC) engaged in a delicate dance of political maneuvering, embracing both sides of the ideological divide.
Michael Mazarr, in a comprehensive essay[1], articulates the challenges of framing the U.S.-China rivalry, noting that the current discourse often lacks a definitive endgame. It resembles playing chess without the objective of achieving checkmate, resulting in excessive violence and fatigue as each player contests every pawn. This environment allows for easy traps to be set for the challenger, which in this case is China, as it endeavors merely to survive against the established power of the United States over an extended period.
As Mazar argued, summing up the main points of the ongoing American debate:
“More concerning may be that neither side appears to have any vision of a world beyond their rivalry. America’s strategy seems predicated on relentless, unending competition; its definition of success is getting and staying ahead of China in a dozen areas. There is no concept, in other words, of how this rivalry might end. Yet most rivalries do end.”
Here the pivotal point regards perspective, the way of seeing things. In the Western context, rivalries tend to conclude with both parties intact. In contrast, the Chinese perspective is rooted in the notion of a unified “All Under Heaven” (天下), wherein one entity ultimately seeks global unification. The current “US hegemony”, following the legacy of the English, French, and Spanish empires, appears to mirror the Spring and Autumn Period (770-481 BC), dominated by numerous hegemons, preceding the relatively less chaotic Warring States Period (480-221 BC). During the latter, only a few states survived, and they were ultimately conquered by the Qin dynasty, which unified the cultural landscape of the time. Understanding this historical context is vital, providing a framework for interpreting the present and projecting future trajectories. Chinese think like Chinese, not like Westerners.
What will be “winning the game”
However, assuming that the future is solely about rivalries poses its challenges. These rivalries will inevitably conclude; the question remains how and when.
“In 1805 the leaders of Britain and France could hardly have imagined that within a few decades they would transcend their age-old hostility to become geopolitical partners. Not every rivalry produces such comprehensive reversals, but even the most intractable stand-offs can evolve into something less volatile. In How Rivalries End, Karen Rasler, William Thompson, and Sumit Ganguly explain that, of all great power rivalries since 1816, only three endured for a century. On average, they lasted about 60 years. If we take the founding of the People’s Republic of China in 1949 as the starting point, the current US-China contest has already lasted longer than that. Even using the more recent intensification of the rivalry of around 2010 as a starting point, we’re almost a quarter of the way through the average length.
It is a mistake, therefore, to approach this rivalry without any theory of how it might conclude. The case for competing vigorously to deny certain Chinese ambitions is self-evident, and the US-China relationship has distinct features – such as stark cultural differences – that will complicate any effort to transcend the rivalry. Adding a conception of an endgame would strengthen the US hand in the ongoing competition and help steer the contest in ways that prevent disaster.”
It should all be about what world order the US, the incumbent power, wants. It can’t be just the conservation of the present situation. It must consider the changes that took place in the past 80 years.
“American strategy today focuses on progressively outperforming China in a series of ongoing competitions: military, economic, technological and diplomatic. Endgames are left mostly unstated, out of a belief that too much focus on outcomes is pointless and may even be counterproductive. (italics mine)
Current National Security Advisor Jake Sullivan and Deputy Secretary of State Kurt Campbell laid out a version of this approach in a 2019 essay in Foreign Affairs. ‘Rather than relying on assumptions about China’s trajectory,’ they wrote, ‘American strategy should be durable whatever the future brings for the Chinese system. It should seek to achieve not a definitive end state akin to the Cold War’s ultimate conclusion but a steady state of clear-eyed coexistence on terms favorable to US interests and values.’
A steady state of clear-eyed coexistence – this is the long-term vision, an endless struggle for predominance with elements of self-interested cooperation mixed in. Coexistence, they concluded, ‘means accepting competition as a condition to be managed rather than a problem to be solved.’
The same concept has cropped up in multiple administration statements and speeches and arguments by outside analysts. Rush Doshi, until recently the senior China official at the National Security Council, explained that current policy embodies a rejection of the idea that ‘the contest with China can end as decisively and neatly as the Cold War did’. Rather than seeking to transform China, ‘the United States can compete intensely by blunting Chinese activities that undermine US interests and building a coalition of forces that will help the United States secure its priorities – all while managing the risks of escalation’. Analysts David Santoro and Brad Glosserman have argued that ‘for now, pursuing a specific endgame with China is pointless and problematic’. American strategy should aim to ‘keep the United States in and ahead of the game, i.e., in a competitive and dominant position vis-à-vis its strategic rival’.
Much of this view is clearly correct. There is no way to know how the rivalry will end or how China’s ideology or character will evolve. American actions can’t force ideological or behavioral change onto China, and talking up a future that assumes such change can imply existential threats to the Chinese Communist Party (CCP). It might take decades for all this to play out; discussions about endgames today are mostly theoretical. It makes sense to focus on competing as a persistent challenge, adjust as the situation changes, and let the endgame define itself.
Yet a strategy of open-ended competition without a clear endgame has many downsides. For one thing, it magnifies the risk of getting caught in an endless cycle of competing for competition’s sake on almost every issue. The lack of a clear picture of a world beyond the rivalry leaves American officials at a loss to prioritize: because they can’t be sure what factors are likely to determine the favored outcome, every square mile of the competitive landscape has to be contested. (italics mine)
A perfect example of this dynamic is the US campaign to deny China high-technology capabilities associated with computing and artificial intelligence. Washington originally billed export controls on such equipment as a ‘small yard, high fence’ approach – strict protection of a small number of militarily useful goods. Yet, as Beijing has figured workarounds to the export controls, the yard has expanded. China views the actions – and some US officials implicitly bill them – as an effort to kneecap China’s semiconductor and AI progress in general. Competitive coexistence ends up mandating comprehensive economic warfare, risking an increasingly unrestrained contest that spins out of control.
In this and other ways, broadcasting an endless horizon of confrontation will appear to China and others as a sweeping and permanent campaign to undermine its power. Such a vision is likely to feed the paranoias of hypernationalists on both sides and could produce a sense of fatalism that tempts one or both sides into extreme behaviour. Committing to endless confrontation also risks alienating other countries watching the rivalry from the outside: countries hoping to avoid being crushed by the US-China contest will benefit from some assurance that it need not last forever.
The problem with American strategy today is not that the United States should not compete. It is that persistent contestation alone is an incomplete recipe for success. Unmoored from any concept of an endgame, American competitive instincts can run out of control and guide US grand strategy rather than serving it. (bold mine)
On the other hand, being more explicit about a future in which the United States and China have transcended a zero-sum rivalry to a new kind of relationship would have several benefits. It could empower those in China who want to argue for moderated ambitions. It would make clear that the United States does not envision a version of success that demands surrender, or humiliation, or the collapse of the CCP. It would allow Washington to portray American competitive actions as a hopefully temporary measure, designed to protect against risks during a transitional period when an aggressive regime in Beijing seems likely to use such technological or geopolitical power for coercive or threatening purposes. And it would signal to third parties that the United States understands the need to live with China and wants to transcend the rivalry – under the right conditions.
In the hunt for such a vision of an endgame, two proposed options can be quickly discarded: accommodation and regime change. Neither offers a persuasive alternative.
A handful of observers envision an end to the rivalry by accepting that China – today’s China, Xi’s China – is a leading power and accommodating many of its core demands. This suggestion perhaps made sense with the China of 1995 or 2005, but the ambitions of Xi’s China have become too elaborate, its tactics too aggressive and unfair, and its conceptions of inter-state relations too brutally hierarchical to be accommodated in their current form. As Paul Heer and others have pointed out, these ambitions commonly get blown out of proportion. But Beijing is today undertaking a series of actions – from intimidating claimants in the South China Sea, to threatening ethnic Chinese citizens of other countries, to widespread intellectual property theft – that cannot be reconciled with long-term American interests.”
The United States is deeply concerned about China but lacks a unified China strategy. A multitude of ideas is circulating, yet none have gained widespread consensus. Crafting a coherent approach to China poses challenges distinctly different from those faced during the Cold War with the USSR. The Soviet Union openly defied and challenged US leadership, whereas China today claims not to present a direct confrontation.
China maintains that the West misunderstands its intentions, asserting that it does not aim to topple the United States—especially since the U.S. remains China’s principal trading partner. Consequently, navigating relations with China while pursuing trade complicates diplomatic efforts. What is needed now is a new global framework to replace the one that has unraveled over the past 30 years. This new order must be built upon new international institutions and political pillars.
Given its historical and present role, the United States bears the responsibility of sketching the contours of a new world order. Failing to do so could lead to chaos, paving the way for countries like China, Russia, and Iran to assume greater influence—not out of their success but rather due to American failure. These countries will persist, and the inherent differences among nations will remain pronounced. Thus, conceiving a framework for order that accommodates all parties—while establishing essential ground rules—is imperative.
The outcome of the Cold War resulted in the collapse of the opposing system, with both sides believing that extending the victorious model to the other would lead to success. This proved insufficient; however, the endgame was clear. We must acknowledge that the goal cannot simply be “regime change” in China; even if such a change were feasible, it would not resolve all underlying issues. What is required is a new world framework.
Countries like India are increasingly ambitious, forming military alliances with the United States to counter China. Yet, even if China were to alter course, it is unlikely that India would forfeit its aspirations. The same can be said for Indonesia, poised to reach a population of around 300 million and holds a strategic position between Asia and Australia. Nigeria and Ethiopia are also growing rapidly in Africa, despite recent turbulence in the latter. Egypt and Turkey are revisiting ambitions that echo a modern-day Ottoman Empire.
As a result, we face a fragmented political and economic landscape where countries trade with China, India, and the United States, albeit under varying terms. While the dominant currencies of exchange are increasingly anchored in fully convertible Western currencies, the conditions differ markedly between transactions with the U.S., India, or Indonesia. The US and Europe may prioritize concerns such as dumping, intellectual property theft, technology transfer, labor protections, and anti-corruption measures, while other nations may overlook these issues. If this trend continues unchecked, the relative influence of the United States and its allies may diminish. It may be ok, but if unmanaged, it could bring unforeseen disruptions. Nonetheless, it is crucial to recognize that American technology remains instrumental to global development, as the US is still the primary site for launching and advancing new technologies that propel industrial revolutions.
American investment leadership further underscores the influence of the US worldwide. Additionally, America and the West dominate aspects critical to global interconnectedness. Financial hubs like New York and London continue to thrive as preeminent stock exchanges, while other financial markets remain overshadowed. The English language media, particularly outlets from the United Kingdom—such as the Financial Times, The Economist, and the BBC—serve as respected independent voices, providing a beacon of autonomy and reference points for global discourse. American and British institutions of higher learning, alongside Anglo-American culture, create a common ground for international engagement. Global platforms, like Facebook, Google, and X have become modern utilities, essential like electricity or running water at home.
Currently, no other nation, even English-speaking countries like Canada and Australia, can supplant the role of these Anglo-American institutions. Should nations like China aspire to replace the United States, they would need to cultivate authoritative press institutions that can support independent stock exchanges and garner global esteem. Plus, China would have to convert the world to speak Chinese as lingua franca, or it would have to convert itself to use English, the present lingua franca.
China once had an advantage in this area with Hong Kong, which boasted a free press, authoritative English and Chinese publications, and the world’s third-largest stock market. However, faced with the decision to maintain Hong Kong’s autonomy—viewed as a potential threat to Chinese politics—or to suppress it along with its market, Beijing opted for the latter. While this choice secured short-term political stability, it undermined China’s long-term ability to project influence on the global stage.
Notably, at the end of the Cultural Revolution, around 1977, China realized its GDP, a rough measure of its relative power, was a fraction of the Japanese GDP. In 1945, at the end of WWII, China’s GDP was the same as Japan’s. If it had grown at the same pace as Japan in the past 30 years in the 1990s, it would have surpassed US GDP. If it had Taiwan’s per capita GDP, it would have surpassed America in the 1970s. That is, Maoism had been the single largest hindrance to Chinese development. Openly recognizing this legacy can be highly delicate to Chinese power. But totally denying it can undermine its future in an equal measure.
Without the cultural capital to extend its reach globally, China—like any other country—can only assert military power or use trade and economic aid like a blunt instrument. However, military force or economic blackmail are most effective as a last resort; their perpetual employment diminishes its purpose, complicating everything and undermining the institutions that should wield it.
Towards a New Global Silk Road
Establishing a framework and rules accommodating all nations is undoubtedly daunting. The questions persist: Should all responsible actors be summoned to a central table to discuss every minute detail? Should the US draft a charter and request that all allies endorse it? Each option and its numerous variations come with challenges that may render them impractical. The United States no longer possesses the dominant position it held at the end of World War II; it cannot impose its will as it did in the 1940s and ’50s. However, the technological revolution in information and telecommunications that America pioneered has potentially widened the knowledge gap between itself and the rest of the world.
In the past 30 to 40 years, the United States was almost the sole originator of an array of new technologies that rapidly proliferated worldwide, transforming societies at an unprecedented rate. This transformation alters the balance of power and social structures globally, amplifying the difficulties of crafting new regulations that could withstand the pressures of modern innovations and political upheavals. They would be eaten up and chucked away by the next innovation or political clash.
Still, China may offer an inspiration for a practical solution. China has had a massive success with its Belt and Road Initiative (BRI).
While the BRI has faced challenges, its fundamental premise underscores a critical reality: Despite the interconnectedness introduced by the internet and electronic media, physical infrastructure and connectivity remain stalled in the past. The means and speed of travel between major cities like London, New York, Istanbul, Tokyo, New Delhi, and Beijing have seen little progression in 60 to 70 years, aside from airplane fuel efficiency improvements. Although the volume of trade has surged due to the advent of large container ships, there remains an urgent need for an updated network of railways and roads to enhance land communication.
In this context, drawing the maps to establish an ideal network of railways that crisscross the globe could serve as the foundation for a reimagined international order. The BRI’s ambition was to address this gap—building the physical pathways necessary to support global commerce in an era where telecommunications had progressed rapidly. During the Industrial Revolution, increased connectivity through engine-powered transport supplanted reliance on wind or animal power. Today, while automobiles have shifted the transport model from collective to individual, railways and boats remain superior for security, comfort, and efficiency, particularly over long distances.
New railways and infrastructure development would lead to new stations, warehouses, real estate projects, urban regeneration, and shifts in economic and political power centers within each participating country. A revitalized global network of thoroughfares could reshape economies and unlock latent potential in diverse nations. Even a few schematics showcasing the future configurations of rail systems across continents could catalyze transformative change. Governments and financial markets will inevitably adapt to support these infrastructural advancements essential for sustained growth.
This vision represents a positive trajectory for global relations. Yet, a purely state-driven initiative like China’s BRI will likely falter. Nations are reluctant to conform to directives imposed by other countries, and the potential for significant political and economic fallout presents serious challenges. Conversely, a collaborative public-private initiative could propel these ideas into reality, establishing a framework for a new order that transcends mere power dynamics, focusing instead on knowledge exchange and the mobility of people and goods.
American enterprises possess unique advantages for mobilizing capital and fostering partnerships between governments and private sectors, particularly when coupled with the financial capabilities of Wall Street. However, with the disintegration of post-World War II institutions, the Holy See emerges as a potential neutral arbiter that can provide legitimacy and cohesion in this complex landscape. Envisioning future railways could also benefit from the Holy See’s endorsement, lending moral authority to the project.
The prospect of supplanting the United States and forging an entirely new global order remains unlikely in the near term. For its part, the United States ought to take on the responsibility for redefining international organizations that can lead world governance in the decades ahead. China may choose to engage in this reconfiguration, but it must navigate the complexities of existing infrastructures without the accretions of the WTO.
These new institutions cannot merely be updates of existing ones—though improvements in those frameworks would not be futile.
The rise of digital media and telecommunications has engendered new forms of power, creating widening disparities between the haves and the have-nots while simultaneously compressing the distances between individuals through mass communication. Today, anyone can reach out to the wealthiest individuals or even the Pope, the most widely accepted supreme link to the divine, and he can choose to write or call back publicly. Yet the allure of such connectivity carries risks; the manipulation of information has become pervasive, complicating the task of distinguishing truth from falsehood.
Fewer people concentrated more power over larger masses of people, billions, a phenomenon observable in both authoritarian regimes and democracies. After the fall of the USSR and a few decades of seemingly unfettered democracy, there is now a new temptation to bring order to chaos/novelty on an unprecedented scale by reverting to dictatorship.
Nevertheless, the last 200 years have been characterized by unprecedented human progress, thanks to a delicate balance of press freedoms, free markets, and judicious government intervention. While there is no exact formula for this alchemy, there is a clear pattern that has historically produced successful outcomes. Straying too far from these principles could culminate in dire consequences.
Interestingly, China has been the greatest beneficiary of this global dynamic but now finds itself positioned as a significant counterforce, having misconstrued a momentary setback for the US around the 2008 financial crisis as an irreversible decline. The Chinese government embraced its “laboratory-like conditions”—the favorable tech transfers, low tariffs, and generally positive US sentiment—as indicators of an unassailable reality.
As China confronts a new global landscape, Beijing’s reluctance to embrace the full leap into democracy risks alienating it from potential cooperative endeavors. The fear of regression to a North Korean-style state, where political control supersedes scientific and economic performance, lingers ominously.
Still, it is not just about China. Ultimately, what is at stake is not just the survival of a political system (the Chinese Communist Party) but the broader future of the world.
The United States is already sketching a new global narrative and a fresh, imaginative framework. Streaming platforms such as Netflix, Amazon Prime, and Disney are reshaping cultural narratives more intricately than traditional cinema did a century ago. These platforms produce and distribute stories from around the world, instantly accessible to audiences across the globe. They create a shared global vernacular that eludes control by higher authorities, providing a new medium for connection that emphasizes some specific civic and ethical values.
Notably, the narratives presented in popular shows like Better Call Saul or recurring themes in Fargo and True Detective reflect and shape a global mindset, contribute to shaping a global mindset more than Buster Keaton, Charlie Chaplin did a century ago.
These are the tip of the spear of pervasive narratives that encompass sports events, gaming, and news. These stories are hard to underestimate; they are grounded in civic and ethical values that resonate with the world. Modern historians emphasize Rome’s technological achievements. Its advanced cement built cities, roads, aqueducts, and circuses that still pave the world today; its engineering created war machines and fortifications that defeated every enemy. However, ancient historians did not elaborate much on these accomplishments.
Instead, they focused on the stories of civil and military figures like Cincinnatus (519-430 BC), who defeats the enemy but then returns to his life as a farmer. There is also the tale of Atilius Regulus (299-246 BC), who was captured by the Carthaginians and released on the condition that he persuade his fellow Romans to accept a favorable peace. Regulus returned to Rome but encouraged his people to continue fighting; he then went back to Carthage, expecting to die by torture for betraying his word to the Carthaginians.
These narratives center on honor and dignity—concepts that are greater than power or one’s life. They are people with flaws who made many mistakes; Regulus failed in his offensive against Carthage but came around to do the right thing.
Such personal virtues defined who they were and held foundational value for the city of Rome. The Church inherited the significance of these individual virtues, which elevated “virtuous men” to the status of “saints.” The concept of saints and the sanctity of life bind the Church together in its organization.
It is the sanctity of simple people that captivated the world when watching Charlie Chaplin, just as it is the strange yet compelling sanctity of Jim McGill from Better Call Saul, who confesses his crime when he could have easily escaped accountability. He does the right thing, not out of a desire for power or convenience; instead, doing what is right supersedes his self-interest and brings him honor and self-respect.
The US now has new technologies, which were akin to cement for Rome; the huge controversies surrounding presidential candidate Donald Trump reveal Americans’ genuine sensitivity to issues of honor and self-respect. These are two crucial building blocks widely accepted for a new world order that extends beyond a head-on confrontation with China. However, it may still lack the network of roads that once defined the Roman Empire and drew all other people to Rome.
[1] https://engelsbergideas.com/essays/imagining-the-endgame-of-the-us-china-rivalry/
