October 19,2026

China’s AI Talent Strategy Today: Domestic Talent Development and Global Talent Recruitment

The large language model released by the Chinese AI company DeepSeek in early 2025 sent shock waves through the global AI industry. The development of a high-performance generative AI model by a Chinese company, despite continuing U.S. restrictions on exports of advanced semiconductors to China, underscored once again China’s growing capabilities in AI development. One factor underpinning the rise of Chinese AI technology is the sustained development of its research and development (R&D) infrastructure and the cultivation of talent over many years. Since explicitly positioning AI as a national strategy in 2017, the Chinese government has systematically pursued investment in basic research, the creation of AI-related schools and departments, industry–university collaboration, and the development of young talent. In recent years, it has further strengthened the foundations for ‘domestic talent development,’ meaning the cultivation of highly skilled AI professionals within China, by incorporating AI education across primary and secondary schools, universities, and vocational education. The scope of these efforts extends beyond developing talent at home. At the BRICS summit on September 13, 2026, President Xi Jinping proposed the Open Source and Inclusive AI Initiative, announcing that China would take the lead in establishing a BRICS AI open-source platform, promote cooperation in the development and application of large language models, and provide specialized AI training. He also proposed the Science and Technology Talent Development Initiative, setting out plans for BRICS countries to train engineers jointly and facilitate exchanges among young science and technology professionals. While continuing to strengthen its domestic technological and talent base, China’s AI strategy is expanding to encompass international technological cooperation, talent development, and exchanges centered on open source. Against this background, this commentary reviews the R&D and talent development policies that have supported advances in Chinese AI technology. It then examines China’s current AI talent strategy from two perspectives: the strengthening of its talent development infrastructure at home, centered on ‘domestic talent development,’ and its recruitment of talent globally. 1. China’s Strategies for AI Research and Development and Talent Development China’s AI strategy began in earnest with the State Council’s release of the New Generation Artificial Intelligence Development Plan [1] in July 2017. AI had originally been classified as a ‘disruptive technology contributing to the industrial revolution’ under the section on ‘enhancing the international competitiveness of industrial technologies’ in the 13th Five-Year Plan for Science and Technology Innovation. It was subsequently elevated to a national strategy on the understanding that ‘AI development must be led at the national level if China is to effectively safeguard its national security and secure an advantage in international competition.’ The plan’s main provisions are summarized in the table below. Setting out a strategy through 2030, the document calls for the creation of a world-class center for AI science and technology innovation and talent development by that year. Table 7-10. Overview of the New Generation Artificial Intelligence Development Plan[2] Stage Objectives By 2020: Bring China’s overall AI technology and applications up to the level of the world’s leading countries. ●Achieve significant advances in new-generation AI theory and technology. Specifically, achieve significant advances in basic theory and core technologies for applying big data and cross-media information to AI, swarm intelligence,* hybrid-augmented intelligence combining humans and machines, and autonomous AI systems. Obtain landmark results in AI model development methods, core devices, high-end equipment, and foundational software. ●Make the AI industry internationally competitive at the highest level: establish initial AI technical standards, service systems, and an industrial ecosystem; develop world-leading AI companies; and expand the core AI industry to more than RMB 150 billion and related industries to more than RMB 1 trillion. ●Improve the environment for AI development: implement innovative applications comprehensively in key fields, bring together highly skilled talent teams and technological innovation groups, and establish initial AI ethical norms, policies, laws, and regulations in selected fields. *Swarm intelligence (gunchinō) enables intelligent judgments through the collective behavior of individual AI agents that are simple and possess only local information. By 2025: Achieve major breakthroughs in the basic theory of AI. ●Establish an initial system of new-generation AI theory and technology, achieve breakthroughs in AI with autonomous learning capabilities, and produce leading research results in numerous fields. ●Move the AI industry into the high end of global value chains: apply new-generation AI widely in smart manufacturing, smart healthcare, smart cities, smart agriculture, national defense development, and other fields; and expand the core AI industry to more than RMB 400 billion and related industries to more than RMB 5 trillion. ●Establish an initial framework of AI laws and regulations, ethical norms, and policies, and develop capabilities for AI safety assessment, management, and control. By 2030: Reach the world’s leading level in AI theory, technology, and applications. ●Establish a mature system of new-generation AI theory and technology: achieve major breakthroughs in brain-inspired AI, AI capable of autonomous learning, human–machine hybrid AI, swarm intelligence, and other fields, and exert significant influence on international AI research. ●Make the AI industry internationally competitive at the highest level: broaden and deepen AI applications in production, everyday life, social governance, national defense development, and other fields; establish a complete industrial chain and advanced industry clusters encompassing core technologies, key systems, supporting platforms, and AI applications; and expand the core AI industry to more than RMB 1 trillion and related industries to more than RMB 10 trillion. ●世Establish a world-class center for AI science and technology innovation and talent development, and build a more comprehensive framework of AI laws and regulations, ethical norms, and policies. Following the plan’s release, the relevant ministries also issued specific action plans. In December 2017, the Ministry of Industry and Information Technology (MIIT), the Chinese counterpart of Japan’s Ministry of Economy, Trade and Industry, released the Three-Year Action Plan for Promoting Development of a New Generation Artificial Intelligence Industry (2018–2020). It sought to industrialize and apply AI technologies and upgrade manufacturing through four pillars: (1) developing AI-enabled products such as autonomous vehicles, service robots, drones, medical imaging diagnostic systems, speech and translation systems, and smart home appliances; (2) strengthening core components such as semiconductor chips and development platforms; (3) integrating AI deeply into manufacturing to advance smart manufacturing; and (4) building supporting systems for data resources, standards, intellectual property, and cybersecurity.[3] With respect to talent development, the plan, based on the Guidelines for Manufacturing Talent Development Planning (jointly issued in December 2016 by the Ministry of Education, the Ministry of Human Resources and Social Security, and MIIT), referred to accelerating talent development by promoting industry–university collaboration through major projects, supporting the creation of AI-related schools and departments in higher education institutions, and encouraging vocational schools to train skilled personnel urgently needed for industrial development. Meanwhile, the Ministry of Science and Technology launched a major New Generation Artificial Intelligence project under the National Key R&D Program, one of China’s competitive research funding schemes, investing in research on basic theory and common technologies. In November 2017, it also launched the National New Generation Artificial Intelligence Open Innovation Platforms, designating four companies as platform operators: Baidu for autonomous driving through its Apollo project; Alibaba Cloud for urban AI infrastructure through City Brain; Tencent for online medical-imaging diagnostic services; and iFLYTEK for speech recognition.[4] From 2019 onward, National New Generation Artificial Intelligence Innovation and Development Pilot Zones and National Artificial Intelligence Innovation and Application Pilot Zones were also designated in Beijing, Shanghai, Shenzhen, Guangzhou, and other cities, with the aim of promoting AI demonstration projects and industrialization at the provincial and municipal levels. To develop talent in AI, the Ministry of Education issued the AI Innovation Action Plan for Higher Education Institutions in 2018.[5] The plan established three stages of objectives for developing AI talent and strengthening research capabilities: ●　By 2020: Substantially complete the optimized configuration of higher education institutions’ science and technology innovation systems and academic disciplines to support new-generation AI development. Universities are to achieve new breakthroughs in research on the basic theory and core technologies of new-generation AI. ●　By 2025: Significantly improve higher education institutions’ science and technology innovation capabilities and the quality of talent development in new-generation AI. Generate numerous original innovations originating entirely in China with international influence, and bring selected theoretical research, innovative technologies, and application models up to the world’s advanced level. ●　By 2030: Make higher education institutions central to establishing a major global AI innovation center. They are to become a hub for talent that drives new-generation AI development, providing the scientific and technological support and human resources needed for China to join the leading ranks of innovative countries. The plan also encouraged the establishment of AI schools within university computer science and engineering faculties, as well as interdisciplinary ‘AI + X’ schools devoted to research and applications linking AI with education, manufacturing, healthcare, urban management, finance, the judicial system, national defense, and all other fields. It further set targets of producing 50 world-class textbooks for undergraduate and graduate students and launching 50 open online AI courses by 2020. The plan also called for introducing general AI education in primary and secondary schools, thereby strengthening AI education at every level. In 2024, the Ministry of Education issued a notice on strengthening AI education in primary and secondary schools, encouraging collaboration among industry, academia, and research institutions. Beijing has also introduced eight hours of AI instruction annually in primary and secondary schools, beginning in the fall semester of 2025.[6] In April 2026, this framework for developing AI talent, from primary and secondary schools through higher education, was systematically updated through the ‘AI Plus Education’ Action Plan (Jiao Ke Xin [2026] No. 1), jointly issued by the Ministry of Education, the National Development and Reform Commission, MIIT, the Ministry of Science and Technology, and the National Data Administration.[7] A successor to the 2018 AI Innovation Action Plan for Higher Education Institutions, it aims to achieve deep integration of AI and education by 2030. It establishes a continuous system for talent development across all educational levels through four stages: (1) comprehensive provision of general AI education in primary and secondary schools; (2) making AI a compulsory component of universities’ general foundational curriculum and creating interdisciplinary programs; (3) cluster-based training of highly skilled ‘AI Plus’ personnel in vocational education; and (4) improving AI literacy across society. Local governments have also introduced their own policies to strengthen AI talent development. Beijing, for example, introduced China’s first policy specifically dedicated to AI talent and established Beijing Zhongguancun Academy, focusing on the development of outstanding AI professionals aged 35 and under through an innovative model.[8] In Shanghai, Pudong New Area announced ten measures to support AI talent development. They include the Pudong International Talent Station, which offers high-level AI professionals and promising young talent seeking to establish businesses in the district free accommodation in talent apartments for up to 14 days and free startup workspace for one year. Another measure, the Global Prestigious Universities Talent Express, uses joint recruitment fairs at world-class universities and a cloud-based recruitment platform to match AI companies with outstanding graduates and provide internships and practical training opportunities. In Zhangjiang Science City, the required period for AI professionals to obtain household registration, or hukou, which enables permanent settlement, has been shortened to three years. Highly skilled foreign AI professionals also receive assistance in obtaining R visas valid for up to ten years. In addition, high-level and young AI professionals are eligible for monthly housing subsidies of RMB 1,000 to RMB 3,000.[9]。 In Shenzhen, an AI education alliance has been formed, and eight higher education institutions have established AI-related schools and departments. These include the School of Artificial Intelligence at The Chinese University of Hong Kong, Shenzhen, and the Future Technology School jointly developed by Shenzhen Technology University and Huawei.[10]。 Private AI companies and industry also play an important role in talent development. The BAT companies, Baidu, Alibaba, and Tencent, in particular, draw on their own R&D capabilities and resources to develop university partnerships. Baidu, for example, has worked with more than 200 higher education institutions across China, including Fudan University and Wuhan University, to develop joint curricula on deep learning and AI. It has also provided specialized AI training to more than 1,000 faculty members selected from over 400 universities, including Tsinghua University, Peking University, Zhejiang University, and Harbin Institute of Technology.[11]。 As a result of these efforts, more than 400 universities had established AI schools or departments by March 2023, and China ranked second globally in the size of its AI talent pool. At the end of 2022, China accounted for 4,227 of the world’s 27,255 AI companies, or 16 percent. AI clusters had emerged in the Yangtze River Delta, the Beijing–Tianjin–Hebei region, and the Pearl River Delta. Open AI platforms developed by the BAT companies, Huawei, JD.com, and iFLYTEK also laid the foundations for industrial development.[12]。 China’s ability to produce highly skilled AI talent domestically appears attributable to the combination of four elements: medium- and long-term strategic planning; higher education reform through the creation of AI schools and departments and the renewal of curricula; locally designed incentive measures; and collaboration between industry and educational institutions. This ‘domestic talent development’ approach was reaffirmed in the State Council’s Opinions on Deepening the Implementation of the ‘AI Plus’ Initiative, published in August 2025. The document calls for ‘promoting AI education at all educational levels and general AI education across society … further strengthening the development of high-caliber talent and establishing new models for cultivating leading talent at an exceptional pace.’[13] The 15th Five-Year Plan (2026–2030), approved in March 2026, likewise identifies AI, alongside quantum science and technology, biotechnology, and others, as a frontier science and technology field in which breakthroughs are to be pursued. It explicitly calls for ‘establishing, at an exceptional pace, urgently needed disciplines and majors in emerging fields such as AI and integrated circuits.’ This policy direction is therefore expected to continue and strengthen over the next five years.[14]。 2. Chinese Talent Policies That May Help Explain Trends in Chinese Visitors to the United States and Student Visa Issuance The number of visitors from China to the United States rose sharply between 2009 and 2017, peaked in 2017, and subsequently declined. Since 2016, leaving aside enrollment at elite institutions, student visa issuance has also declined overall. This section examines Chinese policies that may help explain these trends. Since the launch of reform and opening up, China has encouraged overseas study under the basic policy of ‘supporting study abroad, encouraging return to China, and guaranteeing the freedom to come and go’ (zhichi liuxue, guli huiguo, laiqu ziyou). In 2003, China adopted a national strategy to build a strong country through talent. It introduced a systematic approach with two complementary components: attracting high-level talent from overseas through initiatives such as the Thousand Talents Plan, and developing domestic talent through initiatives such as the Ten Thousand Talents Plan. In line with this strategy, the Outline of China’s National Plan for Medium- and Long-Term Education Reform and Development (2010–2020), issued in 2010, called for reforming the government-funded overseas study system, selecting outstanding students through open nationwide competition, and sending them to leading universities and research institutions overseas.[15] For self-funded overseas study, it provided for expanded incentive grants and financial assistance for outstanding students. These measures increased the number of places available for overseas study through government scholarships and introduced incentives for self-funded study. In particular, government-funded overseas study programs administered by the China Scholarship Council (CSC) were expanded, enabling many Chinese graduate students and researchers to study abroad, including in the United States, with state funding. Another likely factor was the growth of China’s affluent population as reform and opening up accelerated from 1992 onward and China became an economic power, overtaking Japan in 2010 to become the world’s second-largest economy by GDP. The policy of encouraging overseas study and subsequent return to China with the knowledge acquired proved effective, producing China’s largest wave of returning overseas students (guiguo chao). According to statistics, by the end of 2016, the cumulative number of people returning to China after overseas study had reached 2,651,100. The proportion of those completing their overseas studies who chose to return rose from 72.38 percent in 2012 to 82.23 percent in 2016.[16] To help returning talent settle in China, ministries introduced a range of coordinated measures to address difficulties in accessing preferential policies, cumbersome household registration and children’s school enrollment procedures, problems opening bank accounts or obtaining financing, difficulties making use of intellectual property, and policy restrictions. These measures included easing restrictions on obtaining hukou, supporting school enrollment for returnees’ children, and facilitating financing for business startups. China’s policies encouraging overseas study made it the largest source of international students in the United States for roughly a decade. In the 2018–2019 academic year, 370,000 Chinese students studied in the United States, accounting for one-third of all international students there. Since 2016, however, the number of student visas issued to Chinese nationals by the United States has declined. An increase in refusal rates may, of course, be a factor, but the number of applications itself also appears to have fallen. Stricter U.S. visa screening may have made obtaining a visa more difficult for Chinese students. At the same time, efforts to manage risk by expanding domestic education and diversifying exchanges toward other countries may also have contributed to this trend. Under his strategy to build a strong country through talent in the new era, Xi Jinping has set out the following approach to sending talent abroad and developing human resources.[17]。 The approach emphasizes ‘domestic talent development,’ including strengthening the cultivation of innovative talent and placing the Double First-Class initiative, which seeks to build world-class universities and disciplines, at the center of training basic research talent. The initiative covers universities such as Peking University and Tsinghua University and aims to make China a leading power in higher education by the middle of the twenty-first century. At the same time, the approach combines the ‘recruitment of overseas talent’ with the ‘dispatch of Chinese talent abroad,’ using diverse means to open new avenues for overseas training, diversify development channels, and expand the talent reserve. In other words, while building on domestic talent development and continuing to send Chinese talent abroad and recruit foreign talent, China seeks to diversify its methods of talent development and identify new channels. One underlying consideration is likely that developing highly skilled talent at home can reduce excessive reliance on overseas study, while opening new training channels can reduce dependence on any single country. Even before this policy was articulated, China had been strengthening educational cooperation with Europe and countries along the Belt and Road since the 2010s. By 2016, China had signed agreements on the mutual recognition of higher education qualifications and degrees with 19 EU member states, including Germany, France, Hungary, Portugal, and Italy. At the end of 2015, a total of 303,451 Chinese students were studying in EU countries, accounting for 24 percent of Chinese students abroad. In 2015 alone, 123,018 students reportedly went to study in EU countries, an increase of 29 percent from the previous year and 23 percent of all Chinese students going abroad that year.[18] Although trends before and after these years require further examination, the figures indicate that the number studying in the EU grew dramatically even within the single year from 2014 to 2015. In recent years, European countries have also actively pursued policies to attract international students, and the share of Chinese students, including researchers, is reportedly increasing. According to Eurostat statistics, the number of Chinese researchers in Germany has doubled over the past decade and, as of 2019, stood at 37,000. A separate survey found that 20 percent of Chinese students choosing an overseas study destination selected the United Kingdom, exceeding the 17 percent who chose the United States. Applications to British universities for fall 2019 rose by 23.5 percent from the previous year, reaching a record high. Chinese students reportedly accounted for one-third of international students in the United Kingdom in 2018.[19]。 As part of the Belt and Road Initiative, China has also strengthened education and talent exchanges with participating countries. In August 2016, the Ministry of Education released the Education Action Plan for the Belt and Road Initiative, placing the Silk Road Study Abroad Promotion Plan first among four implementation plans. It envisaged providing Chinese government scholarships to 10,000 students from Belt and Road countries annually over the following five years to encourage study in China, while sending 2,500 Chinese students annually to those countries with government funding over the following three years.[20]。 Statistics for 2017, the year after this plan was introduced, show that 66,100 Chinese students studied in Belt and Road countries, an increase of 15.7 percent from the previous year, exceeding the overall growth rate of 11.7 percent. Of these students, 3,679 were government-funded and were sent to 37 Belt and Road countries.[21] The total number of Chinese students going abroad that year was reported as 608,400, meaning that slightly more than one-tenth chose Belt and Road countries as their destination. Taken together, these developments suggest that the decline in Chinese visa applications to the United States since 2016 reflects stricter U.S. screening, alongside the subsequent diversification of overseas study destinations, particularly toward Europe and Asia. It may also reflect China’s efforts to put in place systems that make high-quality education and research environments available within China without the need to study abroad, as well as its ongoing construction of a world-class talent development infrastructure at home. More recently, this strategy is expanding beyond ‘domestic talent development’ and the ‘dispatch’ of Chinese talent abroad to encompass the ‘admission’ of foreign talent. An emblematic development is the introduction of the K visa on October 1, 2025. This new visa is intended for young foreign science and technology professionals. Compared with existing visa categories, it offers more favorable arrangements concerning the number of entries, visa validity, and permitted length of stay, and does not require an employer or inviting organization in China.[22] The Chinese government has positioned its introduction as part of the strategy to build a strong country through talent in the new era, clearly signaling its intention to promote the admission of young science and technology professionals from overseas and international talent exchanges. Interestingly, in September 2025, almost concurrently with the introduction of the K visa, the United States announced a measure requiring a payment of USD 100,000 for certain new H-1B petitions. Implementation was subsequently enjoined by a court, and litigation remains ongoing as of September 2026, making a simple comparison of the two countries’ systems inappropriate. Nevertheless, as international competition for highly skilled foreign talent intensifies, it is noteworthy that China is strengthening domestic talent development while also building institutions to attract foreign talent more actively. Viewed in this broader context, China’s talent strategy today can be understood as moving toward a combination of diversified overseas placements and recruitment from abroad, underpinned by ‘domestic talent development.’ (End) (This is the English translation of an article written by ITO Wakako, Director of Research and Executive Director at the Japan Forum on International Relations. The original Japanese version was published on the JFIR website on September 14, 2026.) [1]　Since the 11th Five-Year Plan, China has changed the Chinese term used for such plans from jihua (计划; traditional form 計劃) to guihua (规划; traditional form 規劃). Jihua was used in the planned economy and carries a strong connotation of a state directive. Guihua denotes targets to be achieved on the basis of projections; it is more flexible than jihua and can accommodate the dynamism of independent enterprises. The Chinese term gangyao (纲要), meaning ‘outline,’ corresponds to the Japanese term yōkō and denotes a document setting out direction and objectives. Medium- and long-term plans combine direction and objectives (gangyao) with projected targets (guihua). [2]　Compiled by the author based on ‘New Generation Artificial Intelligence Development Plan’ (新一代人工智能发展规划), July 8, 2017, Central People’s Government of the People’s Republic of China website, http://www.gov.cn/zhengce/content/2017-07/20/content_5211996.htm. [3]　‘Notice of the Ministry of Industry and Information Technology on Issuing the Three-Year Action Plan for Promoting Development of a New Generation Artificial Intelligence Industry (2018–2020),’ Office of the Central Cyberspace Affairs Commission, https://www.cac.gov.cn/2017-12/15/c_1122114520.htm. [4]　In September 2018, an image recognition technology project led by SenseTime was also added. [5]　‘Notice of the Ministry of Education on Issuing the AI Innovation Action Plan for Higher Education Institutions,’ Ministry of Education of the People’s Republic of China, http://www.moe.gov.cn/srcsite/A16/s7062/201804/t20180410_332722.html. [6]　“Beijing to introduce AI courses across primary, secondary schools,” the State Council of the People’s Republic of China, March 12, 2025.https://english.www.gov.cn/news/202503/12/content_WS67d18e9ec6d0868f4e8f0c40.html [7]　‘Notice of the Ministry of Education and Four Other Departments on Issuing the “AI Plus Education” Action Plan,’ Jiao Ke Xin [2026] No. 1, April 10, 2026, Ministry of Education of the People’s Republic of China, http://www.moe.gov.cn/srcsite/A16/s3342/202604/t20260410_1433240.html. [8]　‘CCTV News In-Depth Analysis: How Did Beijing Become the “Leading City for Artificial Intelligence”?,’ June 26, 2025, International Science & Technology Innovation Center, https://www.ncsti.gov.cn/kjdt/xwjj/202506/t20250626_208750.html. [9]　‘Pudong Introduces Ten Measures to Support AI Talent Development,’ July 8, 2024, Shanghai Municipal People’s Government, https://www.shanghai.gov.cn/nw15343/20240708/1e0d8b56e5154f18b512e30b78548c6e.html. [10]　‘Official Release: Shenzhen’s Major Press Conference Delivers a Wealth of Substantive Information,’ February 23, 2025, Shenzhen News Network, https://www.sznews.com/news/content/2025-02/23/content_31471991.htm. [11]　‘Baidu: Training Another Five Million AI Professionals over the Next Five Years,’ June 2020, Baidu, https://ai.baidu.com/forum/topic/show/960360. [12]　‘New Opportunities for the AI Industry: Core Industry Reached RMB 508 Billion in 2022, up 18 Percent Year on Year,’ March 15, 2023, All-China Federation of Industry and Commerce, https://www.acfic.org.cn/fgzs/fgdt/202303/t20230315_189163.html. [13]　‘Opinions of the State Council on Deepening the Implementation of the “AI Plus” Initiative,’ Guo Fa [2025] No. 11, August 26, 2025, Central People’s Government of the People’s Republic of China, https://www.news.cn/politics/20250826/21f5785636b14373af2e5d85ef383344/c.html. [14]　‘Outline of the 15th Five-Year Plan (2026–2030) for National Economic and Social Development of the People’s Republic of China,’ March 2026, National Development and Reform Commission. [15]　‘Outline of China’s National Plan for Medium- and Long-Term Education Reform and Development (2010–2020),’ July 29, 2010, Central People’s Government of the People’s Republic of China, https://www.gov.cn/jrzg/2010-07/29/content_1667143.htm. [16]　‘Multiple Departments Jointly Remove Barriers to Innovation and Entrepreneurship for Returnees from Overseas Study,’ January 30, 2018, Central People’s Government of the People’s Republic of China, https://www.gov.cn/guowuyuan/2018-01/30/content_5261996.htm. [17]　‘Xi Jinping: Fully Implement the Strategy to Build a Strong Country through Talent in the New Era and Accelerate the Development of a Major Global Talent Center and Innovation Hub,’ December 15, 2021, Central People’s Government of the People’s Republic of China, https://www.gov.cn/xinwen/2021-12/15/content_5660938.htm. The strategy’s specific provisions were first outlined at the Central Talent Work Conference in September 2021. [18]　‘China Has Signed Agreements on Mutual Recognition of Higher Education Qualifications and Degrees with 19 EU Member States,’ October 9, 2016, Central People’s Government of the People’s Republic of China, https://www.gov.cn/xinwen/2016-10/09/content_5116144.htm. [19]　‘Growth in Chinese Students Studying in the United States Falls to a Ten-Year Low: U.S. Concern as Europe Welcomes Them,’ November 25, 2019, Yicai, https://www.yicai.com/news/100415300.html. [20]　‘Ministry of Education Official Answers Reporters’ Questions on the Education Action Plan for the Belt and Road Initiative,’ August 11, 2016, Central People’s Government of the People’s Republic of China, https://www.gov.cn/xinwen/2016-08/11/content_5098853.htm. [21]　‘Ministry of Education: Number Studying Abroad Exceeds 600,000 for the First Time, with a Clear Trend of High-Level Talent Returning,’ March 30, 2018, https://www.gov.cn/xinwen/2018-03/30/content_5278559.htm. [22]　‘Officials from the Ministry of Justice, Ministry of Foreign Affairs, Ministry of Public Security, and National Immigration Administration Answer Reporters’ Questions on the State Council’s Decision to Amend the Regulations of the People’s Republic of China on Administration of the Entry and Exit of Foreigners,’ August 14, 2025, Ministry of Foreign Affairs, https://www.mfa.gov.cn/wjb_673085/zzjg_673183/lss_674689/xgxw_674691/202508/t20250814_11690096.shtml.

ITO Wakako

October 08,2026

Opening, Closing, and Governing: Greenland and the Shape of the 2026 Trilateral Agreement

On September 22, 2026, Greenland, Denmark, and the United States signed a new agreement (hereinafter “the 2026 Agreement”)[1] amending and supplementing the defense agreement concluded between Denmark and the United States in 1951 (hereinafter “the 1951 Agreement”).[2] The agreement was the outcome of trilateral negotiations that had been conducted behind the scenes since early 2026 as an alternative channel, at a time when Denmark and Greenland were under pressure to respond to US President Donald Trump’s repeated statements, beginning in December 2024, about the ownership and control of Greenland.[3] Trump stated that it would be “a long and wonderful partnership,” Danish Prime Minister Mette Frederiksen called it “a milestone,” and Greenland’s Prime Minister Jens-Frederik Nielsen described it as “a very big day.”[4] In a sense, the 2026 Agreement may well represent a certain point of arrival, insofar as it averted a further escalation of “outbursts” by a great power. Above all, for the Kingdom of Denmark, the agreement was also a product of pragmatism. Regarding the agreement, Frederiksen remarked that, rather than expending effort on what must not be done, what mattered was to build an environment in which the Kingdom could defend itself as security threats draw closer to Greenland and the Arctic,[5] suggesting that her government had prioritized a realistic approach in its relations with the United States. What, then, does the 2026 Agreement actually provide? The bilateral US-Danish framework based on the 1951 Agreement, while retaining its basic structure, has positioned Greenland as an actor involved in decision-making through the 2003 Itilleq Declaration and the 2004 Igaliku Agreement (hereinafter “the 2004 Agreement”).[6] How have these institutional developments connected with the 2026 Agreement? In my previous commentary, dated September 18, 2026 (coincidentally the same day on which Trump first posted about the agreement on Truth Social), I sought to understand US intentions in the midst of the trilateral negotiations by drawing on the concept of an “Okinawa model” proposed by the geopolitical analyst Khalid, as well as on the essay by the present author and Gad of the Danish Institute for International Studies that inspired it.[7] The Okinawa model refers to a mode of governance in which the United States, while formally preserving an ally’s sovereignty, embeds within its territory multiple layers of bases, rights guaranteeing the use of and access to those bases, and security institutions that support their establishment and operation, thereby reorganizing that space “wholesale” into a de facto military and strategic space. The concept also links this spatial reorganization to a denial strategy aimed at excluding actual or potential military and strategic involvement by China, Russia, and others. Building on the argument of that commentary, this article examines, with reference to the actual content of the 2026 Agreement, the extent to which the Okinawa model as an analytical lens can capture its features. The focus here is on the two operations that constitute the Okinawa model: “opening” a particular territory wholesale to the United States on the one hand, and “closing” it to competing third countries through a denial strategy on the other. In what follows, I read the 2026 Agreement from the perspective of this “opening and closing,” and further examine who governs the boundary between the two, and through what procedures. Opening Let us begin with the mechanisms that “open” Greenland to the United States. The starting point is the 1951 Agreement. Article V(3) grants US public vessels and aircraft, as well as US armed forces and vehicles, the right of free access to the defense areas by land, sea, and air, and the right to move between them. With regard to aircraft, the agreement further provides that, except as limited by agreement with Denmark, they may overfly and land in any part of Greenland, including its territorial waters. Even at this stage, then, US military access was not confined to fixed defense areas; it already incorporated mechanisms that extended beyond them through movement between areas and overflight. While carrying over this access dating back to 1951, the 2026 Agreement redefines its scope and modalities and adds new forms of use. Article VI explicitly covers “the rest of the territory of Greenland,” including its territorial waters, and provides not only for access to the defense areas, movement between them by land, sea, and air, and overflight and landing by aircraft, but also for undersea access to and movement within the territorial waters by US public vessels. The cross-territorial access rights already contained in the 1951 Agreement have thus evolved into a more diverse framework of military use, now encompassing the use of territorial waters, including undersea, and the establishment of facilities outside the defense areas. However, the 1951 and 2026 Agreements differ markedly in how they situate the US military presence in relation to Greenlandic society. Article VI of the 1951 Agreement provided that, at the discretion of the Danish authorities, contact between US personnel and the local population was to be avoided as far as possible. This was a principle of “non-intimacy,” under which the United States was granted broad military access while its activities were kept external to Greenlandic society to the greatest extent possible. Although this provision was abolished in 1986, US bases and related facilities in Greenland had already been gradually scaled back throughout the Cold War, and even after the Cold War ended, this trend did not reverse into a re-entry to bases or the addition and expansion of facilities. In that sense, there was little reason to expect that the abolition of the provision would immediately and substantially transform the relationship between the US military presence and Greenlandic society. On the other hand, the abolition in 1986 formed part of a process through which the institutions governing this relationship would subsequently change. After the end of the Cold War, as the United States reorganized its overseas bases and forward posture in response to a changing threat environment, Greenland, alongside the advancement of its self-government, became increasingly involved in matters of national security.[8] Against the backdrop of these two intersecting changes, the 2004 Agreement, concluded after extensive negotiations, resituated the US bases within their relationship with Greenlandic society. Article 3(2)(a) institutionalized local-level cooperation, for example by establishing a mechanism for consultation between representatives of the Home Rule Government of Greenland and the commander of what was then Thule Air Base. Article 3(1)(c) further provided that, before implementing any significant changes to US military operations or facilities in Greenland, the United States would consult with and inform the Government of the Kingdom of Denmark, including the Home Rule Government of Greenland. In addition, the two joint declarations on economic and technical cooperation and on environmental cooperation, signed within the framework of the 2004 Agreement, extended the trilateral relationship beyond the military sphere into broader cooperation. These developments indicate a shift toward treating the US presence not merely as a matter internal to the bases but as part of a wider relationship with Greenlandic society. That said, this institutionalization naturally did not resolve the problems left behind by Cold War military activities. In the latter half of the 2010s, issues of environmental contamination and waste at former US military facilities became politicized, and in 2018 Denmark and Greenland concluded an agreement on cleaning up the former facilities.[9]。 It should therefore be reaffirmed that, even if the “opening” elements of the 2026 Agreement are continuous with the 1951 Agreement, the relationship with Greenlandic society to which they apply is decisively different. Moreover, viewed from an Arctic perspective, the security environment surrounding the 2026 Agreement has also changed dramatically since 1951. During the Cold War, the Arctic was regarded as a strategic buffer separating the two superpowers, the United States and the Soviet Union; after the Cold War, it was seen as a space relatively insulated from extra-regional geopolitical rivalries and great-power competition, in which intergovernmental cooperation was sustained. This conception of the Arctic has since been transformed, and the 2026 Agreement was signed as so-called Arctic exceptionalism receded and military presence was reinforced across the Arctic, including Greenland. The principle of non-intimacy, once paired with the military “opening” of the territory, has already disappeared. Expanding US military use while maintaining the relationship with Greenlandic society built in the intervening decades: this is the premise of the 2026 Agreement that distinguishes it from that of 1951. The differences from 1951 are not limited to the conditions surrounding military access; they also extend to the purposes that justify such access. Article II of the 1951 Agreement linked the need to establish and operate defense areas to the defense of Greenland and the rest of the North Atlantic Treaty area. By contrast, the preamble and Article I of the 2026 Agreement link US military access to Greenland to the defense of the North Atlantic Treaty area, Greenland, and the American continent. Moreover, the defense of the American continent is not merely a general objective. It serves as the basis for determining the need to establish new (additional) defense areas under Article IV(iii), and for determining the need for additional access to and movement within the territorial waters by US public vessels under Article VI(iii). The purpose of defending the American continent has thus been layered onto the logic of collective defense grounded in the North Atlantic Treaty since 1951, and has also been incorporated into the basis for concrete military use in Greenland. Greenland is accordingly positioned not only as a territory to be defended but also, by virtue of its geographic location, as a military and strategic space that explicitly supports the defense of the American continent. Seen in this light, the overlap with the Okinawa model outlined above certainly did not suddenly emerge with the 2026 Agreement; it can be traced to an institutional continuity dating back to 1951. At the same time, the 2026 Agreement expands the scope and modalities of military access, extends its purpose to the defense of the American continent, and places such access in a social and security environment that differs from that of the past. Closing What, then, of the other side of this “opening” mechanism, namely the screening of third-country involvement and the “closing” of the territory? On the military side, Article IX of the 2026 Agreement does not permit non-NATO countries to establish manned or unmanned military facilities in Greenland or to maintain a persistent presence of military forces there, unless the three parties agree otherwise. Article X further extends the scope beyond military facilities and the stationing of forces to foreign investment and other activities. Under this mechanism, countries that are neither NATO members, NATO partners, nor EU member states, as well as investors from such countries, are denied control, significant influence, or access to non-public information with respect to “particularly sensitive sectors or activities,” including critical infrastructure and resource extraction, where such control, influence, or access could pose a threat to national security or public order. This restriction does not apply, however, where the three parties agree that the activity in question does not constitute a threat. The targets of “closing” are not limited to military facilities and armed forces. Encompassing infrastructure, resources, and investment, the agreement screens who may become militarily or strategically involved in Greenland. In this sense, the guarantee of broad military access for the United States and the barriers to military and strategic involvement by competing third countries form two sides of a single territorial order. The constitution of a security space through the selection of “to whom to open and to whom to close” appears to be another point of contact with the Okinawa model. Thus, what the Okinawa model explicitly captures, is primarily the structure of territorial use, namely “opening” and “closing.” What substantively underpins the Okinawa model, however, is a mode of limiting the host side’s scope of control by rendering invisible, or incapacitating, the channels through which the host side, and sub-state actors in particular, can participate. How, then, is the sub-state actor in question, Greenland, positioned in the 2026 Agreement? Governing Under the 2026 Agreement, Greenland itself participates in setting the boundary that determines how the territory is opened and closed. This is most clearly evident in the establishment of new defense areas. Article IV(iii) provides that when any party raises the need for a new defense area, the parties shall consult without delay in the Permanent Committee on the basis of a proposal specifying its location, scope, size, and types of activities, among other matters, and shall determine the details of implementation by trilateral agreement. The question of where to locate US bases has thus been entrusted to trilateral decision-making that includes Greenland. Failure to reach trilateral agreement, however, does not cause the proposal to lapse. If no agreement is reached in the Permanent Committee within 90 days, consultations are elevated to the deputy-minister level and then to the ministerial level. While the agreement does not provide that the United States may unilaterally establish a defense area even at that stage, neither does it specify what follows if agreement is still not reached. What has been institutionalized here, therefore, is not a mechanism through which Greenland’s disagreement immediately terminates a proposal, but one that “keeps” Greenland in place as a party to decision-making while elevating such disagreement to trilateral political consultation. It is important to note, however, that Greenland’s involvement in decisions on US military use is not institutionalized through the same mechanism across the board. For unmanned military facilities outside the defense areas, for instance, Article V establishes a mechanism under which the Kingdom of Denmark and Greenland review US requests for their establishment through accelerated governmental approval procedures. By contrast, with respect to access to the defense areas, movement between them, overflight and landing, and undersea access to and movement within the territorial waters, as set out in Article VI(i) and (ii), the agreement itself grants such access to the United States in advance, while leaving room in paragraph (ii) for restrictions by trilateral agreement. In other words, both the mechanisms and the degree of Greenland’s involvement differ between the question of where US bases are to be located and the question of how Greenland’s territory may be used militarily. Greenland is likewise involved in governing the counterpart to “opening” the territory to the United States, namely “closing” it to competing third countries. Article X, discussed above, provides that Greenland shall secure the objectives of investment screening by applying its own current or future investment screening legislation, in close cooperation with the Kingdom of Denmark. Overlapping with the US military access dating back to 1951, Greenland’s growing agency, built up since 2003/2004, has, in the 2026 Agreement, extended its reach to the questions of to whom the territory is opened, to whom it is closed, and who governs that boundary. Enduring Article XI pushes the relationships examined thus far even further. Whereas Article XIV(2) of the 1951 Agreement explicitly tied its duration to that of the North Atlantic Treaty, the 2026 Agreement sets no termination date. Article XI further stipulates in advance that, even if Greenland becomes independent in the future, an independent Greenland, on the premise that it remains in NATO (or, if necessary, applies for membership), would succeed to the rights and obligations under the agreement hitherto held by the Kingdom of Denmark, as well as to related implementing agreements and other arrangements, and to defense arrangements. What is important here is that Greenland’s growing agency and US military access are not necessarily placed in a relationship in which the expansion of one entails the contraction of the other. Article XI envisages that even if Greenland’s growing agency were to culminate in independence, arguably its ultimate outcome, this would not necessarily mean a break with US military use. Børge Obel of Aarhus University in Denmark points out that this provision may also affect incentives regarding Greenland’s independence.[10] Because post-independence security uncertainty is reduced in advance, the hurdles to independence may be lowered, while the United States secures an institutional channel through which it can maintain its military presence even if Greenland’s status changes. Bearing the Burden To whom is the territory opened, to whom is it closed, and who governs that boundary? Examining these institutions of territorial use alone still leaves one question unanswered: who financially sustains this security space? Noteworthy in this respect is the line Trump posted on Truth Social prior to the announcement of the agreement, stating that it would come at “no cost” to the United States.[11] Danish Foreign Minister Lars Løkke Rasmussen, on the other hand, has indicated his understanding that if the United States builds new military bases or facilities, it will bear the costs itself.[12] Trump’s “no cost” post therefore cannot simply be taken to mean that Denmark and Greenland will bear the full costs associated with the US military presence. Key to interpreting this post is Denmark’s recent expansion of Arctic defense spending. Under the 1951 Agreement, Denmark has never had an explicit host nation support (HNS) obligation to financially sustain the US military presence in Greenland. In recent years, however, policy proposals in the United States have called on Denmark to expand HNS with a view to shifting burdens onto European allies.[13] Since 2025, Denmark has also substantially increased its defense investment in the Arctic and North Atlantic, building up naval vessels, air capabilities, and communications infrastructure, among other assets, and strengthening command and surveillance capabilities in Greenland.[14] Although these investments differ in nature from HNS that directly covers the construction costs of US military facilities, they nonetheless represent the Kingdom’s development, as part of its own defense policy, of a security foundation that supports the activities of NATO and its allies.[15] If so, the question of “no cost” cannot be fully grasped in terms of the direct costs of US military facilities alone. Even if the United States bears the costs of its own facilities, if the surveillance, communications, infrastructure, and defense capabilities that enable its activities are developed through the host side’s expenditure, the costs of maintaining this security space will in effect be shared under different headings and through different channels. Conversely, the possibilities for military use institutionally opened up by the agreement do not in themselves translate into an actual expansion of the US military presence. The budget request of the Department of War (Department of Defense) for fiscal year 2027 contains no line items explicitly referring to the Arctic or Greenland, and the high costs of constructing and expanding military facilities in Greenland may also constrain any actual expansion.[16] This point raises a further question about the Okinawa model. If a strategic space is constituted by bases, access rights, and institutions that restrict the involvement of competing third countries, who financially sustains that space? At stake are the questions of whose security needs the infrastructure and capabilities are developed for, who bears their costs, and how that burden relates to decision-making over the territory. The phrase “no cost” surrounding the 2026 Agreement thus leaves us with a further issue that lies beyond the territorial politics of opening, closing, and governing: the politics of burden that makes such a strategic space possible. [1]　https://um.dk/en/foreign-policy/agreement/ [2]　https://truthsocial.com/@WhiteHouse/posts/117315570745604580 [3]　At the time of writing, the agreement has been signed by the three parties, while its approval by the Greenland Parliament and the Danish Parliament remains subject to further procedures. [4]　https://www.berlingske.dk/politik/trump-om-groenland-aftale-det-har-vaeret-en-fantastisk-rejse [5]　https://www.berlingske.dk/politik/regeringen-ser-ubekymret-paa-usas-aktiviteter-paa-baser-i-groenland [6]　Minori Takahashi (ed.) (2019). The Influence of Sub-state Actors on National Security: Using Military Bases to Forge Autonomy (Springer Polar Sciences). Cham: Springer. [7]　https://www.jfir.or.jp/studygroup_article/13524/ [8]　Minori Takahashi og Shinji Kawana (2021). “Inklusion, imagepleje eller nødvendighed? Basepolitik i Grønland og politisk kultur i Danmark”. Økonomi & Politik. Vol.94 (2). pp.68-83. [9]　https://politiken.dk/edition/features/art10908177/The-U.S.-Has-Left-Widespread-Pollution-in-Greenland-%C2%BBIt%E2%80%99s-a-filthy-mess%C2%AB [10]　https://www.altinget.dk/artikel/professor-emeritus-overset-detalje-i-groenlandsaftalen-boer-vaekke-bekymring [11]　https://truthsocial.com/@realDonaldTrump/posts/117294126158197822 [12]　https://knr.gl/da/nyheder/loekke-slaar-fast-usa-betaler-selv-bygge-baser-i-groenland [13]　https://www.atlanticcouncil.org/content-series/atlantic-council-strategy-paper-series/a-us-and-allied-strategy-for-greenland/ [14]　https://www.fmn.dk/en/news/2025/the-second-agreement-on-the-arctic-and-north-atlantic-strengthens-the-operational-effectiveness-of-the-danish-armed-forces-with-new-acquisitions-totalling-dkk-27.4-billion [15]　For these political dynamics within the Kingdom, see also Minori Takahashi (ed.) (2026). Gurīnrando: Jinbun shakai kagaku kara terasu kyokuhoku no shima [Greenland: The Far-Northern Island in the Light of the Humanities and Social Sciences], expanded new edition. Tokyo: Fujiwara Shoten (in Japanese); Minori Takahashi, Teiko Nakamaru and Minoru Ozawa (eds.) (2026). Aisurando, Gurīnrando, Hokkyoku o shiru tame no 67 shō [67 Chapters for Understanding Iceland, Greenland and the Arctic], 2nd edition. Tokyo: Akashi Shoten (in Japanese). [16]　https://www.fpri.org/article/2026/09/what-stands-out-in-the-us-greenland-denmark-agreement/

TAKAHASHI Minori

October 05,2026

Examining China’s Revised National Defense Mobilization Law

I. Beyond Military Contingencies: Building a Framework for Comprehensive National Security On October 1, 2026, China implemented its revised National Defense Mobilization Law (comprising 14 chapters and 82 articles). The law, which was significantly overhauled from its 2010 predecessor (14 chapters and 72 articles), was adopted on August 28, 2026, by the Standing Committee of the National People’s Congress (NPC, China’s legislative body). Article 2, which defines “national defense mobilization,” explicitly adds “development interests” to the list of core interests to be defended against threats, alongside “national sovereignty, unity, territorial integrity, and security,” which were stipulated in the previous law. Under the revised law, the scope of national defense mobilization has been expanded to encompass responses to economic decoupling, economic sanctions, and the protection of overseas assets, advanced technologies, and data. The framework has thus been broadened to prepare for comprehensive national security—covering not only military contingencies involving Taiwan, Japan, or the Philippines, but also economic security frictions stemming from Western de-risking strategies. Furthermore, by defining national defense mobilization as activities that “guarantee a rapid transition between peacetime and wartime, converting overall economic and social strength into national defense capability,” the law represents a major institutional shift. This shift poses direct risks to the business continuity and data management of foreign enterprises operating in China—not only during contingencies, but also in peacetime. II. Key Elements of the Revision This section examines the principal revisions introduced in the revised National Defense Mobilization Law. Chapter 1: General Provisions — Explicit Inclusion of “Development Interests,” “Military-Locality Coordination,” and “Emerging Domains” “Development interests” are explicitly included among the core interests to be defended against threats (Article 2), enabling the law to apply not only to armed conflicts but also to “gray-zone situations” falling short of military clashes, such as supply chain disruptions, economic sanctions, and cyberattacks. The law aims to enhance the level of informatization and artificial intelligence (AI) in national defense mobilization, consolidating and elevating an integrated national strategic system and capabilities (Article 4), while promoting the application of advanced technologies to develop mobilization capabilities in “emerging domains” (Article 8). Consequently, this revised law extends its scope to a broad spectrum of modern warfare, including the cyber and AI domains. Regarding national defense mobilization, principles such as “upholding the leadership of the Communist Party of China” and “adhering to the integration of peacetime and wartime, military-locality coordination, and Military-Civil Fusion” are explicitly set forth (Article 3). The law introduces a “target responsibility system for national defense mobilization work” to strengthen supervision and inspection over relevant departments of central state organs, local people’s governments at all levels, and relevant military organs (Article 5). Furthermore, the state will establish a “verification and evaluation mechanism for mobilization capabilities” (Article 6) and a data service support system to collect, use, and secure data closely related to mobilization (Article 7). Expenditures required for mobilization shall, in principle, be shared based on the division of fiscal responsibilities between the central and local governments (Article 9). Information acquired in the course of national defense mobilization work is subject to confidentiality obligations covering not only state secrets, but also work-related secrets, trade secrets, personal privacy, and personal information. The leakage or unauthorized provision of such information is strictly prohibited (Article 11). Chapter 3: National Defense Mobilization Plans, Implementation Preparation Plans, and Mobilization Potential Statistical Surveys Preparations for national defense mobilization are integrated into the economic and social development plans of provincial and county-level governments, while implementation preparation plans are incorporated into military operational readiness plans (Articles 20–25). Regarding mobilization potential, the state incorporates defense mobilization potential into the government statistical survey system to enhance its analysis and utilization (Article 26). Chapter 4: Projects and Key Products Closely Related to National Defense To promote the “coordinated development of economic construction and national defense construction”—namely Military-Civil Fusion (Article 27)—a catalog of projects and key products closely related to national defense shall be jointly formulated by the development and reform department under the State Council and relevant departments of the Central Military Commission (CMC), subject to approval by the State Council and the CMC (Article 28). Listed projects and key products must adhere to national defense standards and technical specifications across design, production, construction, supervision, acceptance inspection, and maintenance, while prioritizing the adoption of advanced and applicable civilian standards and technical specifications. Chapter 7: Scientific Research, Production, and Maintenance Support for Military Products Relevant departments of the State Council and the Central Military Commission (CMC) shall organize and conduct security evaluations of the industrial and supply chains for military products, enhancing their resilience and security levels (Article 46). Governments and military organs at all levels shall promote the commonality, serialization, and modularization of military products; foster the socialization of maintenance support for military products; support and assist in the development and application of advanced dual-use technologies and equipment; elevate the level of commonality between military and civilian standards; and improve comprehensive capabilities for scientific research, production conversion, production expansion, and maintenance support for military products (Article 48). Chapter 9: National Defense Duty National defense duties are defined as tasks that support and guarantee military operations, prevent and relieve war damage, and assist in maintaining social order (Article 57). Chinese citizens (males aged 18–60 and females aged 18–55) are obligated to perform national defense duties. In addition to the urban infrastructure and key sectors specified under the previous law—such as transportation, postal services, telecommunications, healthcare, food supply, energy, news media, and defense research and production—the revised law explicitly imposes obligations on cybersecurity-related enterprises (Articles 58–60). Because national defense duties apply exclusively to Chinese citizens, Japanese expatriates and other foreign nationals are not subject to individual mobilization. Chapter 10: Expropriation, Requisition, and Compensation of Civilian Resources (formerly “Requisition and Compensation of Civilian Resources”) During national defense mobilization, if reserve materials are insufficient, the government may expropriate, requisition, or militarily modify civilian facilities, equipment, means of transportation, and venues (Article 63). While personal and household necessities and residences are exempt (Article 65), all organizations and individuals are obliged to comply with the expropriation and requisition of civilian resources required by the military, the People’s Armed Police, or the militia (Article 64). Thus, even if foreign individuals (such as Japanese expatriates) are exempt, local legal entities (foreign enterprise subsidiaries) remain subject to expropriation, requisition, and associated legal penalties. A critical point of this chapter for Japanese and other foreign enterprises is that while the previous law only stipulated “requisition” (implying temporary use, return, and compensation), the revised law explicitly adds “expropriation” (involving the transfer of ownership without the premise of return). Although Article 67 provides for “fair and reasonable compensation” for requisitioned resources, the explicit inclusion of expropriation introduces a distinct risk of permanent asset loss. Chapter 11: Publicity and Education The revised law newly stipulates that, upon a decision to execute national defense mobilization, relevant departments and organs of the central government, local governments, and the military shall standardize the order of information release and dissemination, and handle, in accordance with the law, organizations or individuals that disrupt or sabotage mobilization through disinformation (Article 72). This establishes a framework for rigorous information control and the shaping of state propaganda. Chapter 13: Legal Liabilities Article 78 stipulates individual violations and penalties, covering acts such as refusing or delaying the provision of data on defense mobilization potential, refusing the expropriation or requisition of civilian resources, obstructing modifications to requisitioned resources, fabricating or spreading mobilization disinformation, and disrupting or sabotaging the order of national defense mobilization work. Article 79 outlines violations and penalties for enterprises and organizations, specifying acts such as refusing or delaying the provision of data on mobilization potential, failing to execute contracted projects implementing national defense requirements, failing to fulfill duties regarding strategic material stockpiling and allocation, failing to perform tasks related to scientific research, production conversion, production expansion, and maintenance support for military products, refusing or delaying military procurement, and refusing or delaying the expropriation or requisition of civilian resources. III. The Revised Law: Integrating “Peacetime Monitoring and Tracking” into the “Wartime Mobilization Foundation” This revision of the National Defense Mobilization Law was undertaken to eliminate inconsistencies among the national security legal frameworks developed under the Xi Jinping administration, forming part of an effort to enable physical enforcement, coercion, and seizure not only during contingencies but also in peacetime. The National Security Law enacted in 2015 was grounded in the “Overall National Security Concept” proposed in 2014—a governing philosophy that prioritizes the maintenance of Communist Party of China (CPC) rule and political security, while encompassing political, economic, military, social, and cyber domains to safeguard national security. Similarly, the “Military Strategic Guidelines for a New Era” released in 2019 outlined a comprehensive security approach incorporating the economic, technological, and data domains, aiming to deepen joint operational capabilities to adapt to modern warfare evolving with informatization and artificial intelligence (AI). Furthermore, provisions authorizing defense mobilization when “development interests” are threatened—in addition to national sovereignty and territorial integrity—had already been incorporated into the 2020 revision of the National Defense Law. Regarding peacetime information gathering, a series of legislative measures have been enacted: – the Counter-Espionage Law in 2014 (targeting state secrets and intelligence gathering); – the National Intelligence Law in 2017 (mandating cooperation with state intelligence work from organizations and individuals, both domestic and overseas); – the Cybersecurity Law in 2017 (introducing data localization and codifying cybersecurity protection); – the Data Security Law in 2021 (prohibiting domestic and cross-border data processing and transfers that harm China’s national security and interests); – the revised Counter-Espionage Law in 2023 (expanding the scope of espionage to include the theft or provision of documents, data, materials, and items concerning national security and interests, as well as cyberattacks); – the revised Law on Guarding State Secrets in 2024 (extending protected information to “work secrets” and enabling administrative departments to independently designate secrecy levels); and – the revised Cybersecurity Law in 2026 (strengthening penalties, introducing new AI-related provisions, and extending coverage to extraterritorial organizations and individuals). The revised National Defense Mobilization Law does not merely alter wartime rules; through the “rapid transition between peacetime and wartime,” it enables the physical seizure, requisition, and operationalization of human, material, and information resources tracked under a series of national security laws. For Japanese enterprises, this implies that mobilization will not begin abruptly during a crisis. Rather, cooperation in peacetime—including information provision, data integration, mobilization potential surveys, and stockpiling—is already mandatory, effectively incorporating foreign corporate entities into China’s mobilization foundation for contingencies.

MIFUNE Emi

September 01,2026

WPS Opens New Horizons for Japanese Diplomacy: Toward “Dignified Japanese Diplomacy”

The year 2025 marked the 25th anniversary of the adoption of United Nations Security Council Resolution 1325. Over the past quarter-century, Women, Peace and Security (WPS) has developed significantly as an international norm promoting the protection of women in conflict and their participation in decision-making. Today, its significance is expanding further, as WPS is evolving into a policy concept that calls for reconsidering the very nature of security itself. Since 2025, the Japan Forum on International Relations has been conducting the Study Group for Applying Japan’s Strengths to Further the WPS Agenda with grant support from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs of Japan. Through sustained dialogue with researchers, practitioners, and civil society actors in Japan and abroad, as well as overseas research institutions, the study group has examined the distinctive characteristics of Japan’s approach to WPS and its future direction. Its work has included a systematic analysis of Japan’s three National Action Plans (NAPs), comparative research with European and North American countries, and discussions on increasingly important issues such as Technology-Facilitated Gender-Based Violence (TFGBV) in the digital sphere and cognitive warfare. Through these multifaceted inquiries, one conviction has emerged. WPS is no longer merely one field of “women’s policy.” The security environment today differs markedly from that of a quarter-century ago. Russia’s aggression against Ukraine has once again brought the reality of interstate war into sharp relief. At the same time, the front lines of security have expanded into society itself, encompassing disinformation and cognitive warfare, the rapid development of artificial intelligence, information manipulation in cyberspace, and online harassment. As the information environment underpinning democracy becomes increasingly unstable and social divisions deepen, the participation and resilience of diverse actors, including women, young people, and civil society, have become essential elements supporting national security itself. In this new era, WPS should therefore be repositioned not as a policy for “protecting women,” but as a national strategy for strengthening the resilience of society as a whole. Japan’s approach to WPS possesses distinctive strengths that can respond to this changing environment. Japan has long embraced human security as a principle of its diplomacy, pursuing policies that protect the dignity of every individual through disaster risk reduction, education, health, development cooperation, and the inclusion of local communities. Japan’s First National Action Plan established the conceptual foundations of its WPS policy, the Second advanced its institutionalization, and the Third broadened its scope. In this way, Japan’s approach to WPS has developed along its own trajectory while remaining rooted in the principle of human security. The Fourth National Action Plan, however, must go a step further. Responses to TFGBV, cognitive warfare and disinformation, gender-related challenges in the AI-driven information environment, and the strategic resilience of democracy and social trust should be positioned as core elements of the WPS agenda. Ultimately, this would be an effort to adapt human security, a guiding principle of Japanese diplomacy, to the security environment of the Reiwa era. As this research progressed, it also prompted me to reconsider the nature of diplomacy itself. At an open class held at Utsunomiya University last November as part of the WPS Special Colloquium, I asked the students a simple question: “Do you practice diplomacy?” Diplomacy is not the work of governments alone. It is the practice of engaging in dialogue with people from different backgrounds, building trust, and seeking mutual understanding. The accumulation of these efforts sustains society and, ultimately, the international community. Over the past year, however, repeated discussions with experts and civil society representatives in Japan and abroad have led me to recognize something even more fundamental. Diplomacy does not begin with agreement. It begins with respect. Respect is necessary precisely because values differ. Dialogue is necessary precisely because cultures, religions, interpretations of history, and political systems differ. It is only through an attitude of mutual respect that trust can develop, cooperation can emerge, and the foundations of sustainable peace can be built. Drawing on this insight developed through approximately a year of WPS research, I would like to propose a new guiding concept for Japanese diplomacy: “GRACE-Japan (Dignified Japanese Diplomacy).” GRACE-Japan does not simply refer to elegance or refinement. In an era of deepening division and confrontation, it represents the dignity that Japanese diplomacy should embody: respecting the dignity of others, acknowledging differences, and working together to foster peace. It offers a guiding principle for further developing the “people-centered diplomacy” that Japan has pursued through human security in a “shared-spheres” international order. GRACE consists of the following five principles. G — Grow Together Grow together. Peace cannot be sustained if it serves the interests of only one side. Mutual development and trust support a stable international order. R — Respect Diversity Respect diverse values and cultures, as well as the dignity of every individual. Dialogue does not begin with agreement, but with recognizing differences. A — Act Together Translate principles into action. WPS gains strength only when it moves beyond principle and is put into practice through policies, institutions, local communities, and civil society. C — Connect Communities Connect people with people, societies with societies, and states with states. In a “shared-spheres” international order, creating connections is Japan’s central diplomatic role. E — Empower Everyone Empower every individual. Foster a society in which not only states, but also women, young people, civil society, and local communities become active agents of peace and security. I believe that these five principles reorganize, in the language of Japanese diplomacy, the values that WPS has cultivated over the past quarter-century. The world is now moving into an era in which international order can no longer be sustained solely through agreement on values. In the new international environment that I describe as a “shared-spheres” international order, diverse actors must coexist within the same international system while holding different values. The diplomacy required in such an era should ask not “Whom should we confront?” but “With whom can we build the future?” Japan has long advocated the principle of human security to the international community and has steadily built trust through development, disaster risk reduction, education, and the rule of law. This experience resonates deeply with the principles of WPS. Precisely for this reason, as Japan prepares to formulate its Fourth National Action Plan, this may be an opportune moment to redefine WPS not merely as a component of women’s policy, but as a guiding principle of Japanese diplomacy itself. GRACE-Japan is not simply a diplomatic technique. It is a new diplomatic vision from Japan to the world that seeks to protect human dignity, respect diversity, and build sustainable peace through trust and dialogue in a “shared-spheres” international order. I hope that the next 25 years of WPS will become the era of GRACE-Japan. (This is the English translation of an article written by TAKAHATA Yohei, Distinguished Research Fellow and Executive Director at the Japan Forum on International Relations, and President, The Global Forum of Japan. The original Japanese version was published on the JFIR website on July 1, 2026.)

TAKAHATA Yohei

June 12,2026

Strategic Competition and the role of AUKUS

Introduction: The media hype The Australia-United Kingdom-United States (AUKUS) trilateral partnership is a constant fixture on the international media cycle, with each new development drawing intense scrutiny and speculation from pundits and analysts. A recent Joint Statement by AUKUS Defence Ministers revealed that all three of the USS-Virginia Class nuclear-powered submarines to be delivered to Australia under Phase 2 of the Optimal Pathway will now be “in-service” boats – as opposed to two “used” and one “new”, per the original plan. This decision, they claimed, would result in “simplifying supply chain management, operational and maintenance requirements, and maximising cost efficiencies”[1]. This immediately triggered another round of critical comment levelled at the performance and integrity of the AUKUS project, echoing the furore surrounding the Pentagon’s 2025 Review led by Eldrige Colby (Under Secretary of War for Policy)[2] . One observer, who likened the new arrangement to being ripped off at car dealership, remarked that – “You’ve paid for a Porsche, but they give you a compact two-seater”[3]. This latest episode compounds ongoing concerns that the sluggish output of American naval building yards could lead to delays – or even the failure to deliver – the Virgina boats to Australia[4]. Other expert commentators have endorsed the government’s line that the revised plan reduces the complexity of operating the Virginia-Class boats (now that all three will be the same “Block IV” build, rather than different variants), and in no way represents some great debacle – just as Colby’s 2025 review turned out to be a “non-event”[5]. Nevertheless, renewed opposition to AUKUS within the ranks of the governing Australian Labor Party, and attendant domestic controversy, continue to keep the project in the spotlight[6]. Stepping away from the often-hyperbolic discourse surrounding each fresh development or setback in the AUKUS project, this Commentary, instead concentrates on how this deeply-entrenched and multi-faceted endeavour can be appraised from a wider angle: as a powerful tool to jointly prosecute strategic competition by the Anglosphere allies. Strategic competition: The challenge Strategic competition is widely seen by policymakers an analysts as the defining feature of the international system in the current era. The term is all-pervasive in speeches, policy documents and reports. For example, the UK’s 2025 Strategic Defense Review (SDR) warns of “intensifying strategic competition between states—and with non state actors—for political, military, economic, and technological power”[7]. With Sino-American rivalry at its core, strategic competition engages multiple centres of power, including US allies and partners. It is essentially a multi-dimensional contest for pre-eminence in the international order writ large and encompasses multiple sites of contestation. Most prominent among these is the quest for competitive advantage in the dimensions of (i) diplomacy/order-building (ii) military/defence (iii) economics/technology and (iv) intelligence/information. States such as the US, UK and Australia, as well as Japan, have sought to generate strategic advantage by employing “all arms of national power” or “comprehensive national power” to address these challenges by greater mobilisation of their sovereign resources. But this alone is not sufficient to keep up with challenger states. Even the United States, powerful as it might be, cannot face-down all these challenges single-handedly. That is why the US, and its allies and partners, have sought to pool their resources to achieve their goals collectively. Outside of bilateral efforts, one of the principal formats through which this occurs is “strategic minilateralism”. Strategic minilaterals – such as the Quad and AUKUS – are small-group collectives between US allies and partners that seek to pursue a variety of competitive endeavours within an institutionalised format. These forms of strategic minilateral cooperation are distinguished from other “generic” minilaterals of lesser consequence, by their overt intent to shape the regional order, and their possession of sufficient resources and capabilities to affect the balance of power[8]. AUKUS: An Allied Response Unveiled in September 2021, the AUKUS trilateral partnership is centred on the co-development of nuclear-powered submarines (SSNs) between the US, UK and Australia[9]. It is divided into two “pillars”. Pillar I’s nine working groups have carriage of the overall submarine enterprise. Guided by the “Optimal Pathway” the submarine project will proceed in three Phases. In the first Phase, Australian submariners will be trained, and US and UK SSNs rotate to Australia’s Stirling naval base near Perth (Submarine Rotational Force-West). The second Phase plans for delivery of three (possibly five) in-service US Virginia-Class SSNs to Australia (while its existing Collins-Class boats are gradually retired). In the final Phase, a new AUKUS-Class SSN will be built and deployed for the British Royal Navy, followed by the Royal Australian Navy. The accompanying Pillar II of AUKUS is focused upon Advanced Capabilities co-development, based around eight working groups aimed at developing “game changing” technologies. These include uncrewed underwater vehicles (UUVs), Quantum computing, AI, autonomous systems, advanced cyber, hypersonics/counter-hypersonics, and electronic warfare systems. When the collaborative activities and ambitions of both Pillars are considered, coupled with the high degree of existing security cooperation between the members, the trilateral partnership represents a potentially formidable aggregation of allied power. If effectively leveraged and deployed, this power can afford significant competitive advantages across multiple dimensions. That is, AUKUS reaches far beyond the centrepiece submarine “deal” to generate competitive strategic advantage in the following ways. (i) First, in terms of its diplomatic significance, AUKUS has sent shockwaves across the regional security environment and has become firmly entrenched as a key component of the regional security architecture. It represents a clear signal of strategic resolve by the US and two of its closest allies towards upholding the regional order, based upon a balance of power. It is testament to the robust and reinvigorated strategic alignment of the Anglosphere powers. Yet, while the members also subscribe to the vision of a Free and Open Indo-Pacific (FOIP), AUKUS – unlike the Quad – is not about contributing public goods or regional governance and thus lacks any “soft power” elements of order-building. Notwithstanding – for Canberra especially – AUKUS provides the harder defence edge to its regional diplomacy to back its “integrated statecraft” approach[10]. (ii) Second, the military/defence dimension of AUKUS is a vital contribution toward prosecuting strategic competition. The acquisition of an independent SSN flotilla by Australia will represent “step change in Australia’s undersea warfare capability”[11]. It will also be a linchpin for the country’s strategy of deterrence by denial whilst making it a more potent allied partner. Importantly, this will also grow the size of the combined submarine capability available to these allies. Additionally, behind this emerging collective deterrence front, the members undertake trilateral (and bilateral) military exercises and training which serve to generate the latent ability to operate in a “coalition” in the event of a regional crisis contingency. (iii) Third, economics/technology (and economic security) have become a key vector in the strategic competition with challenger states. In this respect commentators have sought to highlight the economic (as well as strategic) “promise” of AUKUS[12]. Indeed, for the UK and Australia particularly, governments have been keen to emphasise how a revitalisation of defence-industrial capacity can serve as a “engine for growth” within the wider economy. The overall project is expected to generate domestic gains in terms of investment opportunities, jobs, public-private partnerships and commercial applications for the various technologies being developed[13]. Indeed, the collaboration on Critical and Emerging Technologies (CET) under AUKUS Pillar II has “dual use” military/civil application firmly in mind. By increasing the connectivity between America’s Defense Innovation Unit, Britain’s Defence and Security Accelerator, and Australia’s Advanced Strategic Capabilities Accelerator, and working to reduce or remove barriers to international arms/technology transfer between them, AUKUS serves as force multiplier in Innovation, Science and Technology for its membership. (iv) Lastly, AUKUS stands to make a major contribution to the intelligence/information dimension of strategic competition. Though details are limited due to the classified nature of intelligence activities, the Informational Sharing working group (Pillar II) will develop new networks for the exchange of sensitive data through the creation of allied digital infrastructure, including also plans for an Electronic Warfare system. When added to the volume of intelligence sharing between the members (through Five Eyes), trilateral situational awareness and assessments will be further reinforced[14]. More specifically, Advanced Capabilities – AI, Quantum computing and cyber – all have intelligence-related applications, as do UUVs (announced as a “Signature Project” in the Joint Statement above). Relatedly, AUKUS must respond toward the information operations of adversaries, not only to protect its secrets, but to maintain its legitimacy against pressures from the outside. Examples of the latter include attempts by Beijing to discredit it in the International Atomic Energy Agency (IAEA) and the need to engage in an information campaign in South East Asia to reassure regional stakeholders of its intentions (transparency).[15] Japan and AUKUS: Ongoing developments in the AUKUS project are naturally of interest to Japanese policymakers given that the project contains its key US ally and Australian/British Strategic Partners and the consequent impact the strategic minilateral is having on the regional security environment. This Commentary has offered a new way of thinking more cogently about its intended effects by characterising it as a multi-faceted tool of strategic competition. Japan is also engaged in a quest to achieve competitive strategic advantage. As Tokyo considers participation in elements of AUKUS Pillar II (Advanced Capabilities), and eyes the acquisition of SSN’s for the Japanese Maritime Self Defence Force, the AUKUS experience remains highly pertinent, and potentially instructive. *Thomas Wilkins is a distinguished research fellow at JFIR and an associate professor at the University of Sydney. [1]　Department of Defence. (2026, May 30). Joint statement, AUKUS Defence Ministers’ meeting. Australian Government. https://www.minister.defence.gov.au/statements/2026-05-30/joint-statement-aukus-defence-ministers-meeting [2]　Gardner, J. (2025, July 10). “The Pentagon’s AUKUS sceptic is ‘pissing everybody off’.’” The Australian Financial Review. https://www.afr.com/world/north-america/the-pentagon-s-aukus-sceptic-is-pissing-everybody-off-20250710-p5mdu9 [3]　Anderson, C. (2026, June 30). “’Paid for a Porsche, got a compact two-seater’: Is this AUKUS’ hidden cost?” SBS News. https://www.sbs.com.au/news/article/aukus-submarines-hidden-cost/qatt9jd3q [4]　Shelbourne, M. & LaGrone, S., (2026, May 12). “Virginia subs will hit 2-a-year build rate in 2030s, CNO Caudle says”. USNI News. https://news.usni.org/2026/05/12/virginia-subs-will-hit-2-a-year-build-rate-in-2030s-cno-caudle-says [5]　Parker, J. (2026, June 4). “Why is Australia buying used submarines? A naval expert answers key AUKUS questions.” The Conversation. https://theconversation.com/why-is-australia-buying-used-submarines-a-naval-expert-answers-key-aukus-questions-284543 [6]　SBS News. (2026, June 30). “Caucus raucous over AUKUS as Labor backbencher casts doubt on submarines”. https://www.sbs.com.au/news/article/caucus-raucous-over-aukus-as-labor-backbencher-casts-doubt-on-submarines/qc3eimfrj [7]　Ministry of Defence. (2025). Strategic Defence Review. HM Government, p. 26. [8]　Wilkins, T. S. (2025). Strategic minilateralism and the regional security architecture of the Indo-Pacific: The Quad, AUKUS, and the trilateral strategic dialogue. Springer Nature. [9]　Department of the Prime Minister and Cabinet. (2022, April). Fact sheet: Implementation of the Australia – United Kingdom – United States partnership (AUKUS), Australian Government. https://pmtranscripts.pmc.gov.au/sites/default/files/AUKUS-factsheet.pdf [10]　Piper, H. (2023, April 21). ‘AUKUS is good for Australian diplomacy’. Australian Outlook. https://www.internationalaffairs.org.au/australianoutlook/aukus-is-good-for-australian-diplomacy/ [11]　Department of Defence. (2024). 2024 National Defence Strategy. Australian Government. https://www.defence.gov.au/about/strategic-planning/2024-national-defence-strategy-2024-integrated-investment-program, p. 39. [12]　Denmark, A. M., & Edel, C. (2025, August 25). The AUKUS inflection: Seizing the opportunity to deliver deterrence. Center for Strategic and International Studies. https://www.csis.org/analysis/aukus-inflection-seizing-opportunity-deliver-deterrence, p. 7. [13]　Ministry of Defence. (2025). Strategic Defence Review, p. 4. [14]　The Five Eyes intelligence sharing arrangement includes: US, UK, Australia, Canada and New Zealand [15]　Foreign, Commonwealth & Development Office. (2024, November 20). Nuclear safeguards: AUKUS statement to the IAEA Board of Governors [Speech]. https://www.gov.uk/government/speeches/nuclear-safeguards-aukus-statement-to-the-iaea-board-of-governors-november-2024; Patton, S. (2024, February). “Widening the gap: How South-East Asia views AUKUS”. Australian Foreign Affairs, (20), 51–68

Thomas WILKINS

May 21,2026

The Partitioning International Order and the Arctic: A Precursor Model of Order Formation in the Era of Climate Change

The Core Issue and Analytical Perspective Beneath the superficial intensification of conflicts over values and institutions, the contemporary international order is undergoing a quieter, yet structurally profound transformation. This transformation entails the reorganization of the international order—no longer as a space monolithically integrated by universal norms and institutions but as a managed domain governed in part by the coordination and division of roles among major powers. This paper captures this transformation through the concept of partitioning. Partitioning refers to an order structure in which authority over the international order becomes de facto dispersed and entrenched through the tacit coordination of major powers and institutional vacuums, without explicit agreements or treaty-based institutionalization. This phenomenon differs from traditional spheres of influence or bloc formation. During the Cold War, the order was relatively delineated by ideology and alliance structures. What is currently unfolding, however, is not this kind of explicit division but a structure in which influence, the division of responsibilities, and the scope of intervention are implicitly entrenched within domains wherein institutions and norms fail to function adequately. In other words, the order is transitioning from a shared public good to a divided management space. This partitioning unfolds through the convergence of three elements. First, there is a sustained deepening of major power competition. Second, there is an expansion of institutional vacuums resulting from the dysfunction and limited scope of multilateral institutions. Third, there is tacit coordination among major powers that proceeds without explicit agreements—that is, the ex post facto entrenchment of order management. The simultaneous interaction of these elements is reshaping the international order. While these changes are not confined to a specific region, their most acute manifestation has emerged in the Arctic. Although this region has long been perceived as a low-tension, cooperative space, this premise has been rapidly undermined in recent years. In particular, the convergence of physical environmental changes driven by global warming and heightened geopolitical interest is transforming the Arctic from a peripheral region into a strategic space. In the Arctic region, warming is occurring at approximately four times the global average, and the disappearance of summer sea ice is becoming a realistic planning assumption. This profoundly impacts indigenous communities and ecosystems, while simultaneously pushing the commercial viability of Arctic sea routes and the potential for resource development to the forefront as realistic options. The transformation of the natural environment itself is fundamentally altering the premises of international politics in the Arctic. From an institutional perspective, the Arctic also meets the conditions for partitioning. The region possesses a multilayered engagement structure: its core consists of eight nations—the five Arctic coastal states (the United States, Canada, Denmark, Norway, and Russia) in addition to Iceland, Sweden, and Finland—while non-Arctic states such as Japan, China, South Korea, and India are involved as observers. The simultaneous inclusion of Asian nations as observers in 2013 symbolizes the Arctic’s transformation from a regional issue into an arena for global order formation. However, despite this expanding engagement, the institutional framework for comprehensive governance of this region remains fragile. The Arctic Council has functioned as the core framework for cooperation, but it is constrained by its mandate, which excludes security issues; moreover, its operations have largely stalled following Russia’s invasion of Ukraine in 2022. Thus, the Arctic is a space where multilayered engagement and a governance vacuum coexist. The Arctic is not merely a regional case study. It is a precursor model where the structure of a partitioning international order manifests most acutely, serving as a key analytical lens for understanding future order formation. Theoretical Positioning of the Partitioning Concept The concept of partitioning presented in this paper intersects with several concepts in existing international relations theory; however, it does not simply replace them. Rather, it is positioned as a complementary lens to describe phenomena that cannot be adequately captured by existing frameworks of post-Cold War order transformation. In English, this could tentatively correspond to the functional fragmentation of order or the partitioned governance of the international order. However, the core of partitioning in this paper is not mere fragmentation but the dispersion and entrenchment of management authority. First, this concept is clearly distinguished from so-called spheres of influence. While a sphere of influence features relatively explicit geographical boundaries and governing entities, in partitioning, neither the managing entities nor their scopes are necessarily codified. Instead, it is characterized by an asymmetrical and multilayered structure in which multiple entities engage in different functional domains within the same space, each undertaking partial management of the order. Second, partitioning also differs from bloc politics. While bloc politics entails the formation of camps based on the homogeneity of values and institutions, partitioning is distinguished by the coexistence of different value systems and institutional principles within the same regional or institutional space, where functions are divided without mutually excluding each other. Third, regarding its relationship with multipolarity, partitioning is not merely a description of power distribution. While multipolarity indicates the dispersion of relative capabilities among states, partitioning focuses on the operational structure of how those dispersed capabilities are translated into order management—namely, “who manages which domains, and how.” Thus, partitioning can be defined as a structure emerging from the convergence of the following three conditions: First, there is a sustained level of major power competition. Second, there is an absence or dysfunction of an institutional framework to comprehensively manage this competition. Third, management domains are de facto apportioned through tacit coordination among major powers and the accumulation of established facts, without explicit agreements. Under these three conditions, order is not governed by a single principle but is partially managed by different entities across various functions such as security, resources, institutions, infrastructure, and science and technology. In other words, partitioning should be understood not as the collapse of an integrated order but as a form of functional order formation in which order is maintained without integration. From this perspective, the Arctic is the most suitable case for testing the concept of partitioning. In this region, despite insufficient institutional integration, multiple entities engage in order management driven by differing logics, resulting in the maintenance of a certain order level. Therefore, the Arctic is positioned not as an exception to the partitioning international order but as its early manifestation. The Arctic Order as Partitioned Governance China and Russia’s trajectories are particularly noteworthy. The Russian government has designated the Arctic as a “strategic resource base,” positioning the Arctic Ocean at the top of its regional interests in the 2022 revised Maritime Doctrine of the Russian Federation. Furthermore, the 2023 Foreign Policy Concept lists the Arctic as the second-highest priority region, following the former Soviet space. Since the Cold War, the Arctic Ocean has been a sanctuary for nuclear deterrence, hosting the deployment of the Northern Fleet’s nuclear submarines, while simultaneously serving as a vital foundation for state finances through energy exports. Meanwhile, China’s engagement in the polar regions, although originating in scientific research, has steadily expanded through institutional and economic initiatives. Polar research, initiated in 1984, was elevated to a national interest following expeditions to the North Pole in 1995, paving the way for regular, sustained Arctic Ocean surveys. In 2004, China established its first Arctic research station, the Yellow River Station, on Norway’s Svalbard archipelago; its 2018 Arctic Policy White Paper explicitly articulated this trajectory by incorporating Arctic sea routes into the Belt and Road Initiative as the Polar Silk Road. Further, the establishment of a joint research center in Iceland, involvement in the expansion of Greenland’s airports, and the continuous deployment of the icebreaker Xue Long symbolize China’s multifaceted expansion of its physical and institutional presence in the Arctic. Recent U.S. developments are also indispensable for understanding the realignment of the Arctic order. In particular, President Donald Trump’s renewed interest in the Western Hemisphere, including Greenland, symbolizes a shift in the U.S. strategic calculus, seeking to reconceptualize the Arctic not as a space for international cooperation but as a geostrategic frontline. U.S. engagement in the Arctic, relatively restrained since the end of the Cold War, is resurfacing within the context of competition with China and Russia. The push to exclude Chinese capital from Greenland starkly illustrates the structural tension of Arctic governance between economic assistance and security. As outlined above, with Russia driven by security and resource imperatives, China by institutional and economic interests, and the United States by strategic re-engagement, the Arctic order is not integrated by a single ordering principle but is transforming into a space wherein multiple logics intersect in a complex, multilayered structure. Thus, not only does the Arctic vacillate between strategic stability and institutional cooperation, but it is also increasingly taking on the character of a quintessential partitioned space partially managed by disparate actors. However, the Sino-Russian relationship is not monolithic. Although there is an alignment of interests in the joint development of natural resources and the promotion of Arctic sea route utilization, its internal dynamics present a complex picture of cooperative competition. For Russia, the Arctic is a strategic sanctuary symbolizing national identity and nuclear deterrence, and it therefore perceives China’s institutional and economic expansion as a potential infringement upon its sovereign domain. Therefore, the Sino-Russian relationship in the Arctic is fundamentally an uneasy coexistence, which, while mutually complementary in the short term, harbors the potential for hegemonic friction in the medium to long term. Such a structure aptly illustrates the essence of partitioning. This occurs without an explicit division into spheres of influence. Instead, influence is being apportioned across specific functions such as security, resources, institutions, and infrastructure, leaving the authority to manage the order de facto dispersed and entrenched. The Potential of Japanese Diplomacy in a Partitioned Order In this new phase, Japan’s Arctic diplomacy requires redefinition. It has thus far been valued by Nordic countries as a stable partner because of its scientific reliability, adherence to the rule of law, and cooperative posture. As the opening of sea routes and digital connectivity initiatives become increasingly viable, this accumulated trust will serve as a crucial foundation for Japan to engage in the reconstruction of the partitioned Arctic order. However, in a strategic environment characterized by advancing partitioning, diplomacy limited to traditional cooperative participation is insufficient. What is unfolding in the Arctic is not merely major power competition but the emergence of an order structure in which multiple domains—security, resources, institutions, infrastructure, and science and technology—overlap and shift in relation to one another, managed in each instance by disparate actors. Therefore, Japan must take on an active role in connecting these fragmented elements of order and preventing its breakdown. First, Japan must take on the role of maintaining order in low-politics domains, centered on science, the environment, and human security. Fields such as climate observation, marine conservation, disaster prevention, and coexistence with indigenous communities can function as channels of connectivity even in an era of division. By strengthening its engagement in these domains, Japan can support the foundational stability of the Arctic order. Second, Japan should strengthen its coordinating role anchored in law and institutions. As institutional vacuums expand, practical linkages must be built in specific fields such as maritime law, navigational rules, and environmental standards. Japan should act not merely by presenting ideals but as an intermediary that translates them into actionable mechanisms. Third, Japan must pursue practical engagement that balances economic security with openness. Arctic infrastructure is simultaneously an object of economic cooperation and a conduit for strategic influence. By presenting an engagement model that incorporates principles such as transparency and sustainability, Japan can secure trust-based influence. Fourth, Japan’s Arctic diplomacy must be redefined as part of a broader regional order that connects the Arctic with the Indo-Pacific and Eurasia. The Arctic is a new testing ground for connectivity diplomacy and a strategic domain for extending Japan’s strategic reach. Fifth, Japan should adopt an approach to order management predicated on partitioning. The core role of Japanese diplomacy lies not in the restoration of a unified order but in maintaining connectivity among the fragmenting elements of the order. Conclusion This paper analyzes the Arctic from the perspective of a partitioning international order, illuminating the structure of order formation emerging therein. In the Arctic, the concurrent dynamics of institutional underdevelopment, sustained major power competition, and tacit coordination have revealed a structure wherein authority over the order is dispersed and entrenched by function. Crucially, such a structure is not unique to the Arctic. Rather, the Arctic is a bellwether in which the logic of a partitioning international order has emerged earliest and most distinctly, driven by the intersection of irreversible climate change and geopolitical competition. This is not the dissolution of a unified order but a novel modality of order formation—managed through major power coordination amidst institutional vacuums where no single principle can integrate the order. Therefore, the analysis of the Arctic extends beyond specific regional studies. It foreshadows the future trajectory of the international order—a structure in which order is maintained partially and functionally amidst the simultaneous existence of competition and cooperation, as well as division and connection. In this sense, the Arctic is not the periphery of a partitioning world but the frontline, where its structure manifests most acutely. Within this order, the significance of Japanese diplomacy must also be redefined. Japan’s imperative is no longer to merely adapt to the existing order, nor to aim for the restoration of a single normative order. Rather, what is being tested is its ability to find areas for connectivity amidst a fragmenting order and reconnect them institutionally and practically. In short, the core of Japanese diplomacy lies in order management predicated on partitioning. This is not diplomacy predicated on the resolution of conflict but an effort to maintain channels of connection and prevent the severance of order under conditions of persistent conflict. This role is an intrinsic function unique to Japan, one that is difficult for a hegemon to shoulder and cannot be replicated by a mere regional power. Therefore, the Arctic is not merely a new policy domain for Japanese diplomacy. It is a strategic proving ground testing whether Japan will remain a passive adapter in a partitioning international order or take on a new role as a bridge between disparate orders, while simultaneously serving as a watershed that will determine the ultimate course of Japanese diplomacy in the Reiwa era. (This is the English translation of an article written by TAKAHATA Yohei, Distinguished Research Fellow and Executive Director at the Japan Forum on International Relations, and Senior Researcher, Keio Research Institute at SFC. The original Japanese version was published on the JFIR website on April 1, 2026.)

TAKAHATA Yohei