The Indo-Pacific has emerged as the globe’s most dynamic and volatile battleground, where the ambitions of China, the strategic calculations of the United States, and the decisions of regional allies and partners are transforming the security landscape at breakneck speed. If you want to know why Washington-to-Canberra defense strategists are losing sleep, just look at the region’s quickly changing alliances, China’s relentless buildup, and the sobering vulnerabilities laid bare by emerging missile technologies.
At the center of America’s Indo-Pacific strategy are its alliances and partnerships—a network that is a singular strength over China. As described in testimony to the U.S.-China Economic and Security Review Commission, America’s treaty allies Japan, Australia, South Korea, the Philippines, and Thailand are the foundation of its regional stance. The relationships offer not only access for U.S. forces, but also an increasing pool of capable partners. Japan, say, is poised to almost double its defense budget and will soon be the largest F-35 buyer outside America. Australia is buying nuclear-powered submarines and building up its surface fleet, while South Korea operates sophisticated air and missile forces and is now a principal ammunition supplier to Ukraine. Even the Philippines, which under President Duterte had drifted away from America, has reenergized its relationship with the U.S., opening up new access to Taiwan and the South China Sea.
Alliances are not sufficient, however. The security architecture of the region bears no resemblance to NATO—no single, binding collective defense agreement exists. Rather than going big or going home, the U.S. and its allies have opted for “minilateralism”—small, agile groupings such as the Quad (U.S., Japan, Australia, India), AUKUS (Australia, U.K., U.S.), and trilateral gatherings with Japan, South Korea, and Australia. Less institutional than NATO, these configurations are now essential for the exchange of intelligence, interoperability, and sending the message to Beijing that aggression may provoke a regional reaction. As documented in expert testimony, “the habits of deepening cooperation and increasing interoperability among U.S. allies point to converging perceptions of threats—and indicate that, at least among a sub-set of players, an Indo-Pacific security architecture is emerging in response to PRC behavior.”
China, for its part, has been busy retooling its military as an instrument of power that can challenge American dominance in the region. The People’s Liberation Army (PLA) has heavily invested in anti-access/area-denial (A2/AD) capabilities, particularly an enormous inventory of ground-launched ballistic and cruise missiles. In a close examination by the Stimson Center, Chinese planners view U.S. forward air bases—particularly their runways—as the weak link of American power projection. The PLA Rocket Force possesses hundreds of short-, medium-, and intermediate-range missiles, many with runway-penetrating submunitions intended to crater airfields and keep American planes on the ground.
The consequences are grim. Modeling by military analysts indicates that in a war, Chinese missile attacks could shut U.S. air bases in Japan to fighter operations for almost two weeks and to aerial refueling tankers for more than a month. Short of tankers, even America’s best fighters could not make it to the Taiwan Strait or South China Sea and back. Bombers would need to fly from as distant a point as Australia, Hawaii, or Alaska, cutting sortie rates by an order of magnitude and response times in half. As the report starkly phrases it, “there will be no refuge or rest from the long reach of Chinese missiles for U.S. air bases in a war.”
This new reality compelled the U.S. Air Force to reconsider its very strategy of forward basing. The Agile Combat Employment (ACE) concept allocates aircraft and personnel over a series of smaller, more austere bases, which makes it more difficult for the Chinese to target. But even with dispersion, quick runway repair, and tougher missile defenses, the analyses indicate that runways would remain shut for key intervals—particularly for the tankers that enable long-range operations. The cost-exchange ratio is staggering: Chinese missiles are less expensive and simpler to make than the costly interceptors required for protecting runways, and America simply can’t outbid China at missile defense.
Given these disadvantages, the U.S. is coming to depend more and more on its allies and partners not only for access, but for front-line defense. The logic is straightforward: if China thinks it can get a rapid military victory before the U.S. can react, deterrence fails. But if local allies can hold the line—employing thousands of drones, mobile missile batteries, and air denial capabilities—China’s calculation becomes far more perilous. As defense strategists have advised, allies such as Japan, the Philippines, and Taiwan must specialize in asymmetric capabilities that can cut Chinese attacks and leave the skies contested even if U.S. airpower is temporarily out of commission.
Arms sales are involved here, but they must be proportioned to each partner’s probable role in a war. As has been advocated for by Brennan Deveraux, the U.S. needs to go beyond a one-size-fits-all strategy and give priority to sales that advance deterrence and interoperability directly. Australia, Japan, and South Korea are leading actors, investing in capabilities that enable them to fight with the U.S. The Philippines, although less reliable, is a possible contributor whose development of anti-ship missiles and air defense systems would complicate Chinese operations in the South China Sea and around Taiwan. Other nations could provide passive support—logistics, overflight, or intelligence—without becoming part of the combat.
Adding complexity is the strengthening China-Russia defense partnership. As laid out by Brian G. Carlson, Russia has been China’s primary arms supplier for decades, selling modern air defense systems, fighter aircraft, and missile technology. The two nations have increased bilateral exercises, such as naval exercises in sensitive waters like the East China Sea and South China Sea. Though they fall short of a formal alliance and do not possess interoperability, their coordination stretches U.S. resources and attention throughout both the Indo-Pacific and Europe. In a crisis, Russia might give China energy, cyber assistance, or even generate diversions in some other location, compelling the U.S. to make difficult decisions regarding where to concentrate its military power.
And then, of course, there’s Taiwan—the region’s most perilous flashpoint. China’s leadership has made reunification a central national objective, and the distance between Beijing and Taipei has only increased as Taiwan’s political identity becomes more separate. The U.S. has reacted by solidifying its unofficial relationship with Taiwan, endorsing new laws to enhance its defense, and indicating a readiness to intervene if China resorts to force. Any clash over Taiwan would cause shockwaves in the world economy, interfere with critical trade lanes, and compel nearby countries—particularly those in ASEAN—to take sides, derailing decades of skillful hedging.
The way ahead is far from easy. A stable deterrence in the Indo-Pacific will demand that the U.S. and its partners work quickly, invest more wisely, and enhance collaboration at all levels—from combined exercises and industrial cooperation to sharing intelligence and logistics. As one of the experts described it, “the challenge is to run faster and expand cooperation into new areas.” In other words, not merely constructing more ships and aircraft, but also hardening infrastructure, prepositioning equipment, and training engineers and explosive ordnance teams to keep runways open in combat.
The Indo-Pacific is today the most complicated military chessboard on Earth, where every step is monitored, every formation tested, and every weak link bared. The stakes cannot be higher—for the U.S., its allies, and the destiny of the global order.