Opinion
China And America On Collision Course?
Korea War games sign of growing tensions,” warns a recent report by the British Broadcasting Corporation (BBC) News. Dozens of similar international headlines warn of intensifying Sino-American strategic rivalry and even cold war.
Yet this prognosis is way off the mark. It confuses tactical maneuvering for grand strategy. Today’s global economy is pushing both of these great powers toward strategies of retrenchment and buck-passing, not expansionism and conflict.
The United States and China do have important strategic differences in Northeast Asia and elsewhere, and testy encounters like the recent one over US-South Korean naval exercises can be expected. However, today neither President Barack Obama nor Chinese President Hu Jintao can afford domestically to entertain grand strategic designs and geopolitical ambitions, let alone engage in a costly cold war-style conflict.
Obama is scaling back commitments. In fact, both leaders are trimming their foreign policy sails as they concentrate on priorities at home.
The need for retrenchment is the real reason that President Obama has revived America’s commitment to international institutions and multilateralism, and why he has been pressuring Europe, China, and other nations to shoulder a greater share of the international security burden (for example, in containing Iran’s nuclear ambitions). Similar cost-saving considerations also explain Obama’s efforts to “reset” relations with Russia and to curb the growth of the Pentagon’s budget.
By scaling back US commitments and shifting some of the costs of international security onto other states and international institutions, Mr. Obama hopes to be able to invest more resources in the economy, health care, and education – areas crucial to the Democrats’ political fortunes.
The change in emphasis is reflected in the White House’s new National Security Strategy. Roughly one-quarter of the 52-page strategy document released in May is devoted to domestic policies and goals such as strengthening the economy and rebuilding the nation’s infrastructure.
Of course, with tens of thousands of US forces in Afghanistan and Iraq, mountainous federal deficits, and Republicans challenging Obama’s every move, there are limits to how far the president can go in actually shifting US priorities.
Still, foreign policy experts who view Obama’s foreign policies as little more than ploys to maintain US “hegemony” are misreading the signs. Domestic renewal, not foreign ambition, is now the driving force behind US foreign policy.
China is putting domestic challenges first. Obama is not alone. President Hu is also prioritizing domestic needs, and for some of the same reasons. While China has suffered less severely from the global downturn than the US and many other countries, the economic crisis has heightened President Hu’s worries about the country’s widening income gap, unemployment, intensifying regional disparities, and mounting internal strife.
Responding to the violent ethnic clashes in China’s western Xinjiang autonomous region last year, Hu stressed the urgency of helping those hit hardest by the global downturn. Beijing, he warned, must “tirelessly promote economic and social development,” which is the “root of national prosperity and sustainable stability.”
At a time when Beijing is redoubling its commitment to domestic growth and internal stability, US calls for China to shoulder a larger part of the burden of being a “responsible stakeholder” internationally stand little chance of success.
Reasons for reluctance. This reluctance is due not only to the economic tradeoffs entailed in pursuing a more expensive foreign policy. Beijing’s hesitancy to assume a leadership role in international politics reflects the Chinese political establishment’s views about what is possible politically.
Ever since Deng Xiaoping, the architect of China’s dynamic “socialist market economy,” cautioned against assuming the responsibilities (and costs) of international leadership, China’s leaders have found it politically prudent to hue closely to Deng’s preferred path of selective engagement and incremental change. Any Chinese leader who does otherwise is courting political disaster.
As foreign policy analysts are quick to point out, none of this has prevented China from modernizing its military or claiming Taiwan, Tibet, and most recently, the South China Sea as vital interests.
Yet analyses that stop there overlook the fact that much of China’s military apparatus is aimed at securing domestic stability and perimeter defense, and that Beijing prefers diplomacy over coercion to resolve territorial disputes with its neighbours. Under Hu’s leadership, China has defined its interests largely in economic terms.
Today, the real danger is not that the United States and China will come to blows over issues dividing them. The greater threat is that their leaders, preoccupied with domestic matters, will fail to muster the political will needed to find collective solutions to international problems they share in common: rising protectionism, nuclear proliferation, and climate change, among others.
Sino-American retrenchment will discourage wider international cooperation and may encourage weaker states to fill the geopolitical void. Future historians may write that our leaders failed not in trying to do too much internationally, but in doing too little.
Trubowitz is professor of Government at the University of Texas, Austin, United States of America.
Peter Trubowitz
The events that unfolded in Abuja on Tuesday November 11, 2025 between the Minister of the Federal Capital Territory, Chief Nyesom Wike and a detachment of soldiers guarding a disputed property, led by Adams Yerima, a commissioned Naval Officer, may go down as one of the defining images of Nigeria’s democratic contradictions. It was not merely a quarrel over land. It was a confrontation between civil authority and the military legacy that still hovers over our national life.
Nyesom Wike, fiery and fearless as always, was seen on video exchanging words with a uniformed officer who refused to grant him passage to inspect a parcel of land alleged to have been illegally acquired. The minister’s voice rose, his temper flared, and the soldier, too, stood his ground, insisting on his own authority. Around them, aides, security men, and bystanders watched, stunned, as two embodiments of the Nigerian state clashed in the open.
The images spread fast, igniting debates across drawing rooms, beer parlours, and social media platforms. Some hailed Wike for standing up to military arrogance; others scolded him for perceived disrespect to the armed forces. Yet beneath the noise lies a deeper question about what sort of society we are building and whether power in Nigeria truly understands the limits of its own reach.
It is tragic that, more than two decades into civil rule, the relationship between the civilian arm of government and the military remains fragile and poorly understood. The presence of soldiers in a land dispute between private individuals and the city administration is, by all civic standards, an aberration. It recalls a dark era when might was right, and uniforms conferred immunity against accountability.
Wike’s anger, even if fiery, was rooted in a legitimate concern: that no individual, however connected or retired, should deploy the military to protect personal interests. That sentiment echoes the fundamental democratic creed that the law is supreme, not personalities. If his passion overshot decorum, it was perhaps a reflection of a nation weary of impunity.
On the other hand, the soldier in question is a symbol of another truth: that discipline, respect for order, and duty to hierarchy are ingrained in our armed forces. He may have been caught between conflicting instructions one from his superiors, another from a civilian minister exercising his lawful authority. The confusion points not to personal failure but to institutional dysfunction.
It is, therefore, simplistic to turn the incident into a morality play of good versus evil.
*********”**** What happened was an institutional embarrassment. Both men represented facets of the same failing system a polity still learning how to reconcile authority with civility, law with loyalty, and service with restraint.
In fairness, Wike has shown himself as a man of uncommon courage. Whether in Rivers State or at the FCTA, he does not shy away from confrontation. Yet courage without composure often feeds misunderstanding. A public officer must always be the cooler head, even when provoked, because the power of example outweighs the satisfaction of winning an argument.
Conversely, soldiers, too, must be reminded that their uniforms do not place them above civilian oversight. The military exists to defend the nation, not to enforce property claims or intimidate lawful authorities. Their participation in purely civil matters corrodes the image of the institution and erodes public trust.
One cannot overlook the irony: in a country where kidnappers roam highways and bandits sack villages, armed men are posted to guard contested land in the capital. It reflects misplaced priorities and distorted values. The Nigerian soldier, trained to defend sovereignty, should not be drawn into private or bureaucratic tussles.
Sycophancy remains the greatest ailment of our political culture. Many of those who now cheer one side or the other do so not out of conviction but out of convenience. Tomorrow they will switch allegiance. True patriotism lies not in defending personalities but in defending principles. A people enslaved by flattery cannot nurture a culture of justice.
The Nigerian elite must learn to submit to the same laws that govern the poor. When big men fence off public land and use connections to shield their interests, they mock the very constitution they swore to uphold. The FCT, as the mirror of national order, must not become a jungle where only the powerful can build.
The lesson for Wike himself is also clear: power is best exercised with calmness. The weight of his office demands more than bravery; it demands statesmanship. To lead is not merely to command, but to persuade — even those who resist your authority.
Equally, the lesson for the armed forces is that professionalism shines brightest in restraint. Obedience to illegal orders is not loyalty; it is complicity. The soldier who stands on the side of justice protects both his honour and the dignity of his uniform.
The Presidency, too, must see this episode as a wake-up call to clarify institutional boundaries. If soldiers can be drawn into civil enforcement without authorization, then our democracy remains at risk of subtle militarization. The constitution must speak louder than confusion.
The Nigerian public deserves better than spectacles of ego. We crave leaders who rise above emotion and officers who respect civilian supremacy. Our children must not inherit a nation where authority means shouting matches and intimidation in public glare.
Every democracy matures through such tests. What matters is whether we learn the right lessons. The British once had generals who defied parliament; the Americans once fought over states’ rights; Nigeria, too, must pass through her own growing pains but with humility, not hubris.
If the confrontation has stirred discomfort, then perhaps it has done the nation some good. It forces a conversation long overdue: Who truly owns the state — the citizen or the powerful? Can we build a Nigeria where institutions, not individuals, define our destiny?
As the dust settles, both the FCTA and the military hierarchy must conduct impartial investigations. The truth must be established — not to shame anyone, but to restore order. Where laws were broken, consequences must follow. Where misunderstandings occurred, apologies must be offered.
Let the rule of law triumph over the rule of impulse. Let civility triumph over confrontation. Let governance return to the path of dialogue and procedure.
Nigeria cannot continue to oscillate between civilian bravado and military arrogance. Both impulses spring from the same insecurity — the fear of losing control. True leadership lies in the ability to trust institutions to do their work without coercion.
Those who witnessed the clash saw a drama of two gladiators. One in starched khaki, one in well-cut suit. Both proud, both unyielding. But a nation cannot be built on stubbornness; it must be built on understanding. Power, when it meets power, should produce order, not chaos.
We must resist the temptation to glorify temper. Governance is not warfare; it is stewardship. The citizen watches, the world observes, and history records. How we handle moments like this will define our collective maturity.
The confrontation may have ended without violence, but it left deep questions in the national conscience. When men of authority quarrel in the open, institutions tremble. The people, once again, become spectators in a theatre of misplaced pride.
It is time for all who hold office — civilian or military — to remember that they serve under the same flag. That flag is neither khaki nor political colour; it is green-white-green, and it demands humility.
No victor, no vanquish only a lesson for a nation still learning to govern itself with dignity.
By; King Onunwor
