In terms of news reporting, China’s actions in the South China Sea are a novelty, and in some ways incomprehensible. The striving for sovereignty isn’t surprising, as much as the reemergence of tensions that had been dormant for decades. The case of the Japanese Senkaku/Chinese Diaoyu Islands is the most striking, but it’s only the most recent, following the clash with Vietnam over the Paracels, the Philippines over the Scarborough Shoal, and many ASEAN nations over the distant Spratly Islands. To understand why these dangerous disputes are resurfacing right now, you have to go back 600 years. Historically, conquering the seas was a cornerstone of Chinese foreign policy—albeit among the less fortunate—which was sacrificed in favor of internal cohesion. Between 1405 and 1433, the Ming dynasty promoted and financed seven naval expeditions that sent the Chinese fleet to faraway and unknown lands. Limited to reporting to the Middle Kingdom until then, these territories were drawn onto maps for the first time. A Muslim eunuch, Admiral Zheng He, was placed in charge of the expeditions. Some decades ago, Zheng came to the popular attention of historians, and he is now venerated as a national hero in China and other Asian countries. In a rare exception, he represents the combination of Chinese power and the interests of neighboring countries, international trade, collective wellbeing, religious tolerance, and reciprocal respect. Finally, he symbolizes the last image of China as a great nautical power. The fleet’s dimensions were legendary: more than 300 vessels from commercial junks to warships, with other 30,000 sailors. This immense arsenal cut through the Pacific and Indian Oceans, reaching as far as Korea, Indochina, Indonesia, the Indian subcontinent, the Arabian Peninsula, and Somali coast. They are the same regions where China is reasserting its sovereignty now, or is flying its flags to defend international shipping from pirates.
History reminds us that China’s maritime ambitions were soon relegated to the archives; Zheng’s legacy was consigned to ashes, the ships destroyed or left to rot. The capital was moved to Beijing because the Mongol threat in the north hadn’t been eradicated. The national treasury directed money toward traditional defenses, like the construction and ideological cultivation of the Great Wall. Confucius’ disciples’ sino-centric and conservative position prevailed definitively: China was a continental power, agriculture reigned over other productive activities, merchants were parasites, the sea was dangerous, and protecting the Chinese identity was fundamental. The ill-omened consequences of these and other analogous imperial decisions are notable—at least from a strictly economic perspective. Today, China has made up for a great portion of their backwardness that condemned it to foreign invasions. The extraordinary effectiveness of reforms and foresight liberated China from focusing solely on its basic needs, subsequently projecting it onto the international scene with unprecedented stability. China’s dimensions, its cultural structure, and national pride surrounding its history have strengthened this ascent. These internal objectives have laid the basis for external ambitions. By now, the country is strong and mature enough to descend onto the warm southern oceans. In any case, 600 years did not pass in vain, and the countries that chose to pay tribute to China at the time in the interest of peace and prosperity pose greater obstacles today, and the return of a great Chinese civilization provokes more fear than hope.