How Sino-centrism and U.S.-centrism warp(ed?) Beijing’s foreign policy thinking (2008)

Two Chinese grand strategists cautioned the perils of seeing the world only through China’s (imagined) glory or America’s shadow, and advised that China should just be a normal nation-state.

The following paper was originally published in World Economics and Politics, No. 12, 2008, a journal issued by the Institute of World Economics and Politics, Chinese Academy of Social Sciences. A Chinese-language op-ed based on the paper was published in the Global Times newspaper at the end of 2008.

Op-Ed in Global Times in 2008: Chinese People Need to Have a “Normal Country” Mindset.

The two authors are 唐世平 Tang Shiping, now Chair Professor at the School of International Relations and Public Affairs and Director of the Centre for Complex Decision Analysis, Fudan University; and 綦大鹏 Qi Dapeng, Professor at the School of National Security and the Centre for Strategic Consultation, National Defence University of the People’s Liberation Army.

Tang Shiping

Qi Dapeng

I came across the article recently in a WeChat blog post and found it to be fascinating.

It’s been 17 years since the paper’s publication, but I’ll let you decide if it remains relevant today. - Zichen Wang

中国外交讨论中的“中国中心主义”和“美国中心主义”

Sino-Centrism and U.S.-Centrism in China’s Foreign Policy Discourse

The authors seek to offer a preliminary examination, through the lens of social psychology, of two understudied mentalities that exert a profound influence on China’s foreign policy discourse: Sino-centrism and U.S.-centrism.

Sino-centrism manifests in an inability to view China and its global interactions from others’ perspectives, coupled with a lack of motivation to understand other nations objectively. It also sustains the presumption of China’s “natural greatness.” U.S.-centrism, on the other hand, reflects a near-obsession with the United States, marked either by uncritical admiration or by blanket hostility. This mindset positions America as the whole, or at least the sole centre, of China’s international environment. It further leads to the unconscious adoption of American cognitive frameworks (even by scholars who profess to be “anti-American”) and to viewing relations with other countries as mere instruments serving Sino-American ties.

The study concludes by exploring possible ways to mitigate these two centrisms and reduce their effects on China’s foreign policy.

Keywords: Social Psychology; Sino-centrism; U.S.-centrism; Chinese foreign policy

A nation’s public and elite interpretations of history and reality, as well as their aspirations for the future, can be regarded as part of its national psyche. This psyche, particularly that of foreign policy elites, shapes, often subtly and pervasively, the country’s cognitive and behavioural patterns in international affairs.

This paper undertakes a preliminary inquiry, from the perspective of social psychology, into two mindsets that have been little studied yet exert a profound influence on discussions of China’s foreign policy: Sino-centrism and U.S.-centrism, and analyses how these orientations shape the discourse on China’s diplomacy. The authors hope this study will contribute to a more objective awareness among the Chinese elites of their own mentality, thereby facilitating the gradual maturation and rationalisation of China’s national psyche. At the same time, the discussion seeks to advance the application of social psychology within political science. We argue that even beginning with some well-established psychological traits in social psychology, this approach can yield fresh insights into political science issues.

Before turning to the substantive discussion, several points need to be clarified.

First, Sino-centrism should not be equated with patriotism. Our critique of Sino-centrism does not advocate abandoning the defence of national interests. On the contrary, we argue that excessive Sino-centrism inevitably leads to maladjusted foreign policy conduct, thereby harming China’s national interests. Similarly, U.S.-centrism in China’s foreign policy discourse does not refer to acknowledging the reality of the U.S. as the sole superpower, but rather denotes an obsession with America, manifested either in blind admiration or blind hostility. Thus, our criticism of China’s U.S.-centrism is not a call to deny America’s superpower status, but rather an appeal to assess U.S. influence on China through a more rational and systemic lens.

Second, highlighting these two mentalities does not imply that no other mindsets influence China’s foreign policy discourse. We merely emphasise their significant (and thus more detrimental) impact. Moreover, we by no means deny that material factors (e.g., national power) equally shape a country’s foreign policy.

Furthermore, critiquing these mentalities in China’s discourse does not suggest that China alone suffers from unhealthy cognitive biases. For instance, all nations (including the U.S.) grapple with egocentrism, and such tendencies across countries are fundamentally similar, even mirroring one another.

Additionally, while this paper will touch upon the origins of these mentalities, we refrain from an in-depth exploration of the subject, focusing instead on identifying them and analysing their impact on China’s foreign policy debates.

Lastly, though critical of these mentalities, we do not disregard the remarkable progress in China’s foreign policy. In fact, our goal is to facilitate further advancements: only by recognising how these ever-present cognitive biases may distort foreign policy decision-making can China begin to overcome them.

I. Sino-centrism

Sino-centrism represents a peculiar blend of egocentrism and egotism.

Egocentrism, a universal cognitive tendency, refers to the inclination to interpret the world, including oneself, solely from one’s own perspective, while neglecting the viewpoints of others. From a social evolutionary perspective, both individuals and groups inevitably display some degree of egocentrism, as it functions as an adaptive survival mechanism. Nations likewise exhibit egocentric tendencies, with historically dominant powers tending to display this mentality more strongly. In China’s foreign policy discourse, Sino-centrism is expressed through two interdependent and mutually reinforcing elements.

First, Sino-centrism constrains China’s capacity to see itself, the outside world, and its interactions with the outside world through the eyes of others. It also diminishes the willingness to understand other countries with genuine objectivity.

A telling example is the habitual reference to neighbouring states as “peripheral countries,” a term that implicitly casts China as the centre. Views of these neighbours remain deeply colored by lingering impressions of the historical tributary system, as if they shared, or at least acknowledged, China’s nostalgic interpretation of that past. In reality, such an interpretation is not embraced beyond China’s borders.

In 1978, when Deng Xiaoping visited Singapore with the intention of rallying Southeast Asian nations to isolate the “Polar Bear” (the Soviet Union), he was profoundly surprised to find that these neighbours instead sought to contain the “Chinese Dragon.” This episode revealed how, under the influence of Sino-centrism in the 1960s and 1970s, China misread the attitudes of neighbouring governments and publics, mistakenly assuming that ASEAN would readily align with Beijing within the framework of the quasi–China–U.S. alliance.

Although this incident took place nearly three decades ago, China’s knowledge of its neighbouring states remains fairly superficial. Systematic efforts to cultivate specialists capable of in-depth analysis of these countries’ politics, economies, societies, histories, ethnic compositions, and religions are still lacking. As a result, when regional leaders describe the U.S.–Japan alliance as a form of “regional public goods,” China’s responses often range from astonishment to bewilderment or even outrage. What is overlooked is that, while the “China threat theory” has largely lost momentum in the region, deep-seated wariness toward China persists among its neighbours.

After the founding of the People’s Republic, there was a period when China pursued a foreign policy of “exporting revolution.” To some extent, this too reflected the influence of a Sino-centric mentality: China once again imagined itself as a model for neighbouring states, and even for “brother nations” as distant as those in Africa. As Zhang Baijia aptly observed, “In an imagined world revolution that took the Cultural Revolution as its point of departure, the Chinese people seemed to relive the old dream of China as the centre of the world.”

Second, Sino-centrism has instilled in some Chinese elites and citizens an almost subconscious conviction that China is destined for greatness—whether past, present, or future—what might be described as a sense of “natural greatness.” In reality, no such thing exists. A nation is great only if the well-being of its people is genuinely secured and the country itself is truly strong, not because of idealised self-perceptions held by its elites or citizens.

The notion of “natural greatness” is most visibly expressed in the enduring sense of cultural superiority shared by many Chinese elites and ordinary citizens. China’s two-thousand-year central position in the East Asian regional order provides the foundation for imagining this mentality. The remarkable assimilative capacity of Chinese civilisation—its ability to absorb and endure foreign conquest and rule, as under the Mongol and Manchu dynasties—has been widely cited by domestic scholars as evidence supporting this view. The frequent glorification of the “Han–Tang golden ages” in mass media further illustrates this sentiment. With China’s rapid economic development fueling a broader cultural revival, this sense of cultural superiority has only been reinforced. A telling example is the popularity of a line often attributed to Arnold Toynbee: “If China fails to replace the West as the leading force of humanity, the future of our species would be bleak.”

Amid the geopolitical upheavals of the post-9/11 era, and as the United States became entangled in Middle Eastern conflicts, some Chinese scholars began advancing claims that “only Chinese culture can resolve ethnic conflicts,” that “world governance requires Chinese medicine,” and that “the Western civilisational model of governance—Western medicine as represented by the United States—has encountered problems.” Some scholars have already begun to construct new theories of world political philosophy under the conditions of globalisation, negating Western international politics based on the nation-state and attempting instead to take China’s ancient concept of Tianxia (“all under heaven”) as the theoretical foundation for building a future world order.

Such ideas have met with considerable resonance within China. On this basis, some scholars have argued that what is taking place in international politics is not merely a “power transition” but rather a “paradigm shift,” and they seek to demonstrate China’s potential to surpass the United States in the realm of political philosophy. In their view, American hegemony is unsustainable, whereas China’s hegemony of “wangdao” (王道, the principle of humane authority)” is achievable. In response to a world rife with strife and rivalry, proposals such as “bringing Confucius to the forefront at the Beijing Olympics” have further highlighted the rising sense of cultural superiority among segments of the Chinese public. After more than a century of learning from the West, some citizens and elites are once again reviving the dream of a China-centred “Great Unity of the World” (tianxia datong), achieved through the mindset of Chinese culture.

These two elements are mutually reinforcing rather than independent, creating a synergistic effect that produces more concrete manifestations beyond their individual expressions.

Foremost is the deep sense of cultural and national inferiority that permeates both Chinese elites and the broader public. Paradoxically, this mentality coexists with the belief in China’s “natural greatness,” producing a strong sense of cultural and even civilisational inadequacy born of the stark gap between idealised aspirations and lived reality. This acute cultural and national insecurity, together with the presumed superiority of Chinese civilisation, represents two sides of the same Sino-centrist coin.

The persistence of a Sino-centrism subconsciously conditions Chinese elites and the public to assess China’s current and future power and influence through the lens of its historical glory. Globally, the partly overt and partly covert containment strategies employed by the reigning superpower and other Western nations in response to China’s rise make it psychologically difficult to move beyond the memory of China’s descent from civilisational centrality to the lowest rung of the international hierarchy during the “century of humiliation.”

In the Asia-Pacific region, the constraints imposed by the United States and Japan on East Asian regional integration, coupled with the distrust some neighbouring countries harbour toward China, prevent China from developing a palpable sense of being either a great power or even a dominant regional force. Domestically, the multitude of unresolved political, economic, and social challenges, along with separatist tendencies in Taiwan, reinforce the perception that China still lacks the internal foundations necessary to become a true great power.

Culturally, the contrast between the historical zenith of “all nations paying tribute” and the present reality where “Chinese universities have largely become preparatory schools for Western higher education” has fostered a perception that “China is no longer the epicentre of global knowledge production. Within the global intellectual hierarchy, China remains structurally disadvantaged...To date, the world has yet to witness significant Chinese contributions—whether in ideas, conceptual frameworks, or bodies of knowledge—to global governance.” This vast disparity between China’s historical centrality and its contemporary peripheral status inevitably creates profound cognitive dissonance among both the public and elites.

Secondly, there is a tendency toward self-deception and rationalisation. Faced with the wide gulf between China’s current reality and its idealised self-image, both the public and elites often employ such rationalisation as a means of psychological consolation. It takes two distinctive forms: at times, there is intoxication with developmental achievements, coupled with resentment when Western observers fail to acknowledge China as already great, or, conversely, a deep sense of gratification when Western recognition of China’s greatness is received, even if such recognition amounts to little more than hollow flattery.

This phenomenon ultimately derives from the dual foundations of Sino-centrism. On the one hand, the presumed “natural greatness” of Chinese civilisation requires certain external validation to sustain its claim; on the other hand, the deep-seated cultural inferiority complex demands external affirmation to remain suppressed. These two dimensions exist in a state of symbiotic tension: even insincere praise from others can provide psychological gratification, while candid denial, even if factually grounded, tends to provoke resentment.

Beijing’s failed bid for the 2000 Olympics vividly exemplified this mentality. Both China’s elites and the broader public saw the potential success of the bid as long-overdue international recognition of China’s historical (or imagined?) grandeur, while interpreting its rejection as an international dismissal of that status. The reality, however, was that China still fell far short of achieving genuine global power.

Finally, there exists a strategic illusion regarding China’s global standing. In the 1980s, U.S. President Ronald Reagan’s characterisation of China as a “regional power” in Asia provoked considerable discontent within the country. In 1999, the late British scholar Gerald Segal further aggravated Chinese elite sentiment with his provocatively titled essay, “Does China Matter?”, which dismissed China as a “second-rank middle power.” This designation prompted an official rebuttal in the People’s Daily. Academic circles have long advocated for positioning China as a “world power,” and only in recent years has the more nuanced view of China as a regional power with global influence gained broader acceptance.

Yet the persistent illusion of China as a central global power, despite the reality that it remains an important participant rather than a leader in the international system, continues to captivate certain segments of the population. There is an enduring fascination with GDP figures that surpass those of various Western nations. Similarly, the academic discourse surrounding the “Beijing Consensus” reveals this Sino-centric mindset among parts of the elite. Many enthusiastically endorse Joshua Cooper Ramo’s conceptualisation of a “China’s model,” an endorsement that fundamentally reflects aspirations for China to become a central global power—or at least a part of the world’s central axis. In discussions of the Beijing Consensus, John King Fairbank’s incisive observation about Sino-centrism merits serious reflection: “China was a model that other countries should follow but on their own initiative.”

II. China’s U.S.-centrism

In February 1998, while defending the U.S. decision to launch cruise missiles against Iraq, then U.S. Secretary of State Madeleine Albright declared: “But if we have to use force, it is because we are America; we are the indispensable nation. We stand tall and we see further than other countries into the future, and we see the danger here to all of us.” This statement exemplifies the American brand of egocentrism.

The American variety of U.S.-centrism primarily stems from the political reality of the United States’ prolonged position at the centre of the international system. In contrast, Chinese Sino-centrism derives mainly from historical experience and aspirations to reclaim a central position in world affairs. While differing in degree and specific manifestations, the American and Chinese forms of egocentrism share the same fundamental nature.

The Chinese variant of U.S.-centrism goes beyond merely acknowledging the United States’ status as the world’s sole superpower; it manifests as a near-obsession shaped by the gravitational pull of American global dominance. This mentality fluctuates between blind admiration and blind hostility—what could be colloquially described as a “love-hate” relationship.

It is important to note that U.S.-centrism is not unique to Chinese society. Britain’s insistence on maintaining its “special relationship” with the United States, or India’s disproportionate focus on securing U.S. recognition of its great-power status, similarly demonstrates this phenomenon in other national contexts. However, the prevalence of U.S.-centrism elsewhere does not lessen the need for critical self-reflection on China’s own version of this mindset.

The emergence of U.S.-centrism in various nations can be traced to two fundamental causes: first, the United States’ entrenched central position in the global strategic landscape and its enduring power; second, the psychological need of some countries to position themselves as regional centres or integral parts of the world’s central axis by aligning with America.

For China specifically, two additional unique factors contribute to its U.S.-centrism: first, America’s significant influence over the Taiwan question; second, the ongoing ideological confrontation between the U.S. and the People’s Republic of China (though less intense than the U.S.-Soviet/China Cold War standoff). These factors have cast a profound psychological shadow over the Chinese psyche, leading to a consistent tendency to overestimate both America’s impact on China’s future and its influence within the international system.

China’s U.S.-centrism manifests three fundamental characteristics:

First, many people believe that “the United States is the centre of the universe.” As China’s reform and opening up deepened, the nation gradually came to recognise America’s formidable strength. In the post-Cold War era, the U.S. has maintained its lead over other developed nations in economic growth rates, institutional innovation, technological advancement, talent cultivation, R&D investment, and labour productivity. This superiority means that neither the European Union, Russia, Japan, China, nor India can easily challenge American dominance in the global strategic landscape—indeed, the gap may still be widening.

China’s U.S.-centrism, however, goes beyond merely acknowledging American power. China has come to view the United States as constituting the near entirety of the country’s international environment, or at least as its sole centre. More concretely, this mindset manifests in a simplistic line of thinking: as long as relations with the United States are well-managed, China’s international security will be essentially guaranteed, or at least free from major disasters. This was evident “when China and the United States achieved reciprocal visits by their top leaders in 1997-1998, there was widespread celebration in China’s academic circles in security strategy research, as if stable Sino-U.S. relations alone signified China’s victory and security. Yet, after the 1999 bombing of the Chinese Embassy in Yugoslavia and the Bush administration’s subsequent hardline policies toward China, the entire academic community—after initial shock and lamentation—fell into a state of dark dismay.” This episode demonstrates how China’s U.S.-centrism had become profoundly inflated during the 1990s.

At its core, China’s U.S.-centrism betrays its inability to approach international politics in systemic terms. China has long been accustomed to applying an overly simplified dialectical framework to the complex arena of international relations: many assume that by concentrating on the “principal contradiction”—namely, China-U.S. relations—everything else will naturally fall into place. In reality, international politics is an intricate system that calls for systemic analysis. No single “principal contradiction,” however important, can dictate all outcomes. Moreover, the relationship between principal and secondary contradictions is fluid: they continually interact with one another and may even change places.

Secondly, many have unconsciously absorbed American cognitive frameworks, weakening their capacity for independent thought. China’s reform and opening up, especially its efforts to learn from the West—advanced culture, institutional models, and modern ways of life, with the United States as the chief example—reflects the nation’s pursuit of strength, progress, and modernisation. Yet in this process, some Chinese scholars, even those who profess strong “anti-American” views, have unconsciously and fully embraced American modes of thinking.

Some scholars contend that “in terms of value relationships, China has yet to fully integrate into the ‘international community,’” and trace the root cause of skepticism and distrust from the “outside world” (clearly with the United States and the broader West chiefly in mind) to a clash of values between China and the world. In this view, the moral standards and identities China ought to uphold become irrelevant, leaving “Americanisation” as the only path forward. As a result, Chinese elites often gauge China’s strength and conduct against American benchmarks, particularly U.S. norms of action and values, and interpret China’s behaviour in international politics through the lens of American logic.

Some scholars, even those who loudly profess to be “anti-American,” have unwittingly embraced the Western realist philosophy of power politics, insisting that “globalisation must encompass the globalisation of military self-defence” so as to protect national interests, including commercial ones, by force. Yet such arguments echo the very “gunboat diplomacy” China has long denounced: the Opium Wars, after all, broke out precisely because Britain used military power to safeguard its commercial interests.

Lastly, “Only American praise counts.” As noted earlier, the stark gap between China’s reality and its idealised self-image drives both the public and the elite toward self-deception—gratified above all by American approval. Hence the eagerness to seize upon praise from U.S. figures such as Henry Kissinger or Zbigniew Brzezinski. However slight their remarks, they are unfailingly amplified in China’s domestic media. Chinese elites’ appetite for, and satisfaction from, American validation is so intense that even the authors of China Can Say No could not resist it. By contrast, judgments from other countries scarcely register in China’s collective consciousness. Only when their votes are needed at the United Nations do the Chinese grudgingly acknowledge that some of these states may, after all, carry a measure of weight.

In summary, there is likely no other country in the world that stirs Chinese emotions as deeply as the United States, causing the Chinese public and elites to swing between anxiety and relief, joy and despair, admiration and resentment toward America as the relationship ebbs and flows. This undue reverence for America’s place in foreign policy discourse has inevitably shaped academia and the domestic media, amplifying the public’s inflated perception of U.S. power.

The detrimental effects of U.S.-centrism on China’s diplomacy are manifold.

For example, U.S.-centrism has severely narrowed China’s diplomatic horizon. The oft-repeated formulation that “Sino-U.S. relations are the key priority” is its clearest expression. Under this mindset:

“When bilateral relations improve, we often become so intoxicated with the progress that we neglect the real or perceived pressure it exerts on other countries. We fail to engage these states proactively to ease their concerns and forestall countermeasures detrimental to China’s interests. Only when Sino-U.S. relations deteriorate do we suddenly remember their existence, scrambling to repair ties, by which time they demand exorbitant diplomatic premiums for reconciliation.”

(Tang Shiping, Construct China’s Ideal Security Environment, China Social Sciences Press, 2003)

This U.S.-centrism blinds Chinese elites to the multilateral interplay among China, the United States, and neighbouring or global actors. It undermines systemic thinking and reduces China’s diplomatic outlook to a perilously simplistic binary.

U.S.-centrism has also been a significant factor behind China’s asymmetrical dependence on the United States. For instance, in the financial sector, China regards the U.S. as the symbol of wealth and the ultimate safe haven in the international financial system. For quite some time, China’s foreign exchange reserves were almost entirely denominated in U.S. dollars. Moreover, the investment targets of China’s sovereign wealth funds have predominantly been U.S. financial institutions, a practice that runs counter to their original objectives: diversifying China’s foreign exchange reserves. This excessive reliance on the U.S. financial system has granted America a peculiar leverage over China: despite China being the creditor and the U.S. the debtor, the latter has been able to consistently exert substantial pressure on issues like China’s financial reforms. Under the sway of U.S.-centrism, even the subprime mortgage crisis engulfing the U.S. failed to prompt a more rational reassessment of America and its financial architecture. The reality, however, is that Americans are only human and just as prone to error.

III. The Interplay Between Sino-Centrism and U.S.-Centrism

Two centrisms coexist among Chinese public and diplomatic elites, interacting in discernible ways. On one side, scholars and citizens with an America-obsessed outlook believe that cooperation with the United States, the world’s central power, can expand China’s international influence and hasten its integration into the global core. On the other hand, critics of the U.S. maintain that America is the greatest obstacle—not merely the greatest potential external threat—to China’s security and development. They argue that for China to become a central power, it must break through U.S. containment to secure the space necessary for its survival and growth.

In short, these two centrisms have almost invariably reinforced one another, and this mutual reinforcement has done real damage to the formation and practice of China’s diplomatic thought.

The first is the illusion of “Sino-American co-governance” of regional and global affairs. Since China cannot, at least for the time being, become the world’s sole centre under the international system, advancing the idea of “co-governance” with the United States offers some Chinese scholars and citizens a way to partially satisfy their psychological desire to see China cast as a central power. Recent episodes of effective Sino-U.S. cooperation on regional flashpoints, together with proposals from certain American figures for a “G2” or “strategic alliance,” seem to lend some plausibility to this notion of “co-governance.”

Secondly, there is the mindset of “if America declines, who but us can lead?” Sino-centrism naturally breeds wishful thinking about U.S. decline, encouraging the belief that American global hegemony is inherently illegitimate and ultimately unsustainable. Domestic and foreign policy difficulties in the United States are eagerly seized upon by some scholars as evidence of its downfall, while America’s enduring economic strengths and hegemonic resilience are met with resentment or deliberately overlooked. As a result, many scholars unconsciously treat the multipolarisation of world politics as an imminent fact rather than a gradual process, refusing to recognise that America’s central position in the global order may well persist for the foreseeable future.

Some go further still, claiming that China’s continued rise will enable or even guarantee it to replace the United States as the world’s new centre. At present, certain domestic voices invoke the historical notion of “humane authority,” rooted in Sino-centric thought, and extol its superiority over America’s “hegemony.” The implication is that China’s “humane authority” could transcend America’s “hegemony.” Yet these advocates rarely ask: if American hegemony is flawed, why should Chinese hegemony succeed? In theory as in practice, there is no insurmountable gulf between “humane authority” and “hegemony.” More often than not, “humane authority” is little more than a euphemism for hegemony.

At its core, any nation’s self-centrism grounded in cultural exceptionalism provides the ideological basis for pursuing regional or global hegemony and amounts to a form of utopian thinking. Whether cast as the “humane authority” or the “hegemony,” whether exercised benevolently or coercively, all such approaches fundamentally run counter to China’s stated commitment to the democratisation of international relations.

Lastly, the mindset persists that “neighbouring countries” are mere pawns in the China-U.S. rivalry. Almost unconsciously, China has come to treat bilateral and multilateral ties with regional states as tools for managing relations with America. For a long time, such engagements carried little independent weight in China’s foreign policy. This mentality has inevitably weakened China’s good-neighbour diplomacy and, at a deeper level, obstructed the building of genuine mutual trust with regional partners.

As previously noted, the two centrisms have led China to neglect the study of its neighbours and the cultivation of stronger ties with them. Sino-centrism blinds it to these nations’ own perspectives and motivations in dealing with China. U.S.-centrism, meanwhile, fosters indifference toward truly understanding them, as though cordial Sino-American relations alone could secure their lasting friendship. This mentality is most evident in Chinese discussions of regional affairs, where scholars focus disproportionately on the U.S. factor and its influence over neighbouring countries’ China policies, as though China’s neighbours shared its preoccupation with America. In doing so, Chinese diplomatic elites ignore the fact that many of these states value ties with China on their own terms.

As a result, Chinese scholars’ presentations at regional forums often strike their counterparts as little more than echoes of American geopolitical calculations: “Americans see only counterterrorism and the prevention of Chinese regional dominance”“The Chinese see nothing beyond ‘Sino-American co-governance’ or outright U.S. replacement.”

Such impressions lead neighbouring states to conclude that China views them merely as instruments in its rivalry with the United States—disposable when convenient. This perception seriously hinders the development of lasting mutual trust between China and the countries of the region.

The end result is that China has ensnared itself in what might be called an “American trap.” Sino-centrism has prevented China from engaging in a serious study of its neighbours, making it impossible to evaluate its diplomacy, including China-U.S. relations, from their perspectives. At the same time, U.S.-centrism has confined China within America’s geopolitical framework, leaving little room to escape its terms. Harsh criticism by some Chinese scholars and media outlets of U.S. alliances with China’s neighbours and calls to abandon China’s non-alignment policy in the name of so-called “major power strategies” have only heightened American suspicion of China and reinforced neighbouring countries’ perception of an intensifying China-U.S. rivalry and confrontation.

Under these circumstances, China’s academic community finds it difficult to advance proposals that move beyond the “core China-U.S. rivalry,” while regional states, for their part, pursue a balance of power and their own interests centred on that very rivalry. America’s geopolitical framing, combined with China’s own U.S.-centrism, has created a psychological deadlock: any regional initiative originating from China arouses suspicion from both the United States and China’s neighbours; and even when the initiative does not originate from China, active Chinese participation is still interpreted as an attempt to constrain America. This is the “American trap” of China’s own making.

IV. Conclusion: Cultivating a “Normal Nation-State” Mentality

We hope this paper’s preliminary examination of Sino-centrism and China’s U.S.-centrism will mark the beginning of overcoming these two unhealthy mentalities. We are also encouraged that, through dialogues with numerous colleagues, most acknowledge the prevalence of these cognitive tendencies. Many have come to recognise that Sino-centrism does not equate to patriotism, nor does U.S.-centrism, whether manifesting as obsession with or hostility toward America, constitute genuine patriotic sentiment.

It is encouraging that this situation has begun to improve. The proposition that “neighbouring countries are the priority, major powers are the key, and developing countries are the foundation” represents a welcome corrective to the earlier fixation on “Sino-U.S. relations as the key priority.” [The more standard formulation is, in official telling: major powers are the key, neighbouring countries are the priority, developing countries are the foundation, and multilateralism is the important stage (大国是关键、周边是首要、发展中国家是基础、多边是重要舞台) —Yuxuan’s note]

More importantly, some scholars have become consciously aware of the need to break free from the grip of the two centrisms. For example, there is now a more measured response to the persistent hype by certain American figures and media outlets over China’s supposedly surging “soft power,” including the notion of China as a “responsible stakeholder.” Likewise, some have taken a more sober view of the so-called “Beijing Consensus,” recognising that framing it in opposition to the “Washington Consensus” risks fueling a new version of the “China threat theory” and reviving a Cold War of values and ideologies between China and the West.

Although the United States remains and will continue for the foreseeable future to remain the most important country in China’s diplomacy, its relative weight has declined as regional or neighbouring states have assumed greater significance. Increasingly, academics have cautioned against viewing issues solely through an American lens, calling instead for “de-Americanised” thinking, or in plain terms, learning to “stop seeing the world through America’s eyes.”

However, China still faces significant shortcomings in its ability to view its own thinking and behaviour from the perspectives of other countries, especially its neighbours. To situate China-U.S. relations within the broader framework of foreign engagements, China must go further in shedding both Sino-centrism and U.S.-centrism in practice. Only by curbing Sino-centrism can it become more willing to heed its neighbours’ voices and engage constructively with both regionalist and globalist perspectives. The development of bilateral and multilateral relations with neighbouring states must be accorded its own independent core value in China’s foreign policy. In cultivating ties with neighbouring states, China’s guiding principle should be: “Virtuous deeds (for China and the region) must stand despite U.S. objections; vicious deeds must fall despite U.S. approval.”

What should replace the “two centrisms” is a mentality of the “normal nation-state” shared by both the public and the elite. For China, presenting itself as a normal nation-state is the most appropriate posture and international identity in global politics. Terms such as “regional power” should be understood only as objective assessments of national capability, while “responsible major country” should be taken as China’s own statement of behavioural aspiration. None of these labels should be allowed to swell into an inflated “great-power mentality,” for that would contradict China’s political commitment that “all countries, regardless of their size, strength and wealth, are equal members of the international community.”

Chinese public and elites must also resist constantly imagining China as already, or imminently, becoming a global centre (whether through co-governance with the U.S. or by replacing it). Only by relinquishing such fantasies can China engage with America more rationally.

Such a mindset would enable China to engage in more equal exchanges with neighbouring countries and other developing nations, allowing it to rediscover shared values that may have been overlooked by both sides, rather than focusing solely on the differences and commonalities between Chinese and Western/American values. Apparently, identifying and expanding these shared values with neighbouring states and the broader developing world can help China better explore diverse development models of developing countries. This would advance international relations and a global order based on just and equitable principles, thereby providing the basis for achieving the objectives of “strengthening good-neighbourly ties and pragmatic cooperation with surrounding countries” and “enhancing solidarity and collaboration with the vast developing world.”

Such a mindset would enable the Chinese public and elites to engage with Western developed nations in a calm and balanced manner, free from the pendulum swings of arrogance and inferiority. The rise and decline of nations, including China, the United States, and other great powers throughout history, are recurring patterns. China’s modern decline and subsequent revival are neither exceptional nor unique; they warrant neither undue shame nor excessive pride.

As a normal nation-state, China should approach the Western world with the confidence that its destiny depends above all on its own transformation. Thus, there is no need to fixate on containment efforts by other countries, whose actual impact remains limited. These nations may seek to influence China through engagement, and China should indeed draw appropriate lessons from their experiences. But in the final analysis, China must possess both the capacity and the right to explore and determine a development model suited to its own national conditions. This psychological resilience is the essential quality that China, as a normal nation-state, must cultivate and sustain.

Finally, adopting the mindset of a “normal nation-state” would also help China manage its relations with the United States more effectively. While stronger ties between the two countries are certainly desirable and should be encouraged, it is vital to remain clear-headed: even if China and the U.S. were to establish a strategic partnership, the notion that they might co-govern the world is naïve, intrinsically imperialistic, and thus dangerous. Other nations in the international community would never accept American imperialism, Chinese imperialism, or Sino-American imperialism. Only a partnership between China and the United States entirely free of imperial ambitions can genuinely serve the interests of the world—and of both peoples.

Zhang Baijia, in his study of twentieth-century Chinese diplomatic history, reached the basic conclusion that “transforming itself has been China’s principal source of strength, and self-transformation is also China’s primary means of influencing the world.” In fact, every great power in human history has exerted significant global influence only on the premise of transforming itself, strengthening national capacity, and advancing its political and cultural civilisation. For China, this truth carries particular weight. As Asia’s central power, its internal reforms inevitably generate wider global ripple effects than comparable changes elsewhere. By discarding the historical myth of civilisational centrality and embracing the balanced mindset of a normal nation-state, China would advance both its own and the world’s peace and development.

Ukraine as a Solution (2009) by Tang Shiping

Henry Huiyao Wang Speaks with Chosun Ilbo on Northeast Asia’s Past and Future