Over the past decade, China has grown increasingly concerned about its waning leverage over North Korea and inability to restrain Pyongyang’s nuclear ambitions.
These worries have only intensified with North Korea’s dramatic tightening of ties with Russia this year. In June, Kim Jong-un and Vladimir Putin signed a new alliance treaty pledging mutual military assistance in the event of “aggression” against either country. In October, Pyongyang sent troops to Russia to join the fight against Ukraine, building on months of weapons and ammunition shipments it had been providing to Moscow since August 2023.
The Chinese government has not openly commented on North Korea’s new alliance with Russia or its military support in Ukraine. It is likely, however, that discussions about China’s loss of initiative in its triangular relationship with North Korea and Russia are heating up in Beijing.
For seasoned diplomats and historians, the revival of the North Korea-Russia military alliance presents a major risk to regional stability in Northeast Asia. It also raises an intriguing question: Has China been played by Pyongyang and Moscow — for a second time since the outbreak of the Korean War in June 1950?
The Korean War was hardly in Mao Zedong’s plans just one year after establishing the People’s Republic of China (PRC). Historical records show that Mao and the new PRC leadership had a clear priority: reunifying Taiwan with mainland China and not pursuing Kim Il-sung’s ambitions on the Korean Peninsula. Both Mao and Kim sought Stalin’s backing, and the Soviet leader ultimately chose to support Pyongyang’s agenda over Beijing’s.
Bitter at Mao’s hesitation, Kim concealed his war preparations from Beijing. Only three days after launching his attack on South Korea did Kim finally inform Chinese leaders about the conflict.
An outraged Mao fumed, “They are our next-door neighbors, but they did not even consult with us before they started the war. They have not notified us until now.” Yet when Kim’s forces faced defeat by U.S. troops after the Inchon Landing in September 1950, Mao felt he had no choice but to rescue North Korea by entering a war that Kim and Stalin had effectively forced upon him.
Whether today’s Chinese leadership feels similarly betrayed by North Korea’s military alliance with Russia remains unclear. Like his grandfather in 1950, Kim Jong-un has shown little regard for China’s interests in his pivot to Putin.
China’s passive response to both Pyongyang and Moscow is particularly striking given Beijing’s position as the strongest power in this triangle. Unlike Mao’s era, today’s Chinese leadership needs no blessing from Putin for its strategic decisions. And the revolutionary bonds between Beijing and Pyongyang that once linked Mao and Kim Il-sung have long since dissolved.
As analysts often note, Putin’s grinding war in Ukraine has reduced Russia to a junior partner — if not a supplicant — in its relationship with China, unlike 1950 when the Soviet Union decisively outmatched China in every measure of hard power. North Korea, meanwhile, remains deeply dependent on China economically, relying on Beijing for 90% of its trade and the bulk of its energy imports throughout the post-Cold War era.
Some structural features are nevertheless similar, making the Korean War a useful analogy for China’s current predicament with North Korea and Russia. In 1950, Northeast Asia crystallized into two opposing camps: a Soviet Union-China-North Korea bloc facing off against a U.S.-Japan-South Korea alliance. Kim Il-sung secured Stalin’s support for his unification plan precisely because of this stark military and ideological divide.
Today, Northeast Asia teeters once again on the edge of bipolar confrontation. While U.S.-China relations bear little resemblance to the early Cold War era, their steady deterioration since the first Trump presidency has created an opening that Pyongyang and Moscow eagerly exploit. Both capitals grasp China’s deep aversion to a new Cold War with the United States, yet calculate that escalating U.S.-China tensions have made Beijing increasingly eager to maintain their allegiance.
This pressure intensifies given China’s deep historical ties and vital security interests in both countries. Stable relations with Moscow and Pyongyang remain critical for Beijing to secure its sprawling 2,672-mile Russian border and 882-mile North Korean frontier.
This dynamic has constricted China’s strategic options while expanding room for maneuver by Moscow and Pyongyang. Both capitals now sense an opening to leverage Beijing’s growing fear of isolation in its contest with Washington.
Thus emerged China’s “no limits” partnership with Russia, its studied “neutrality” on Ukraine, and its quiet acceptance of the Russia-North Korea alliance — despite the latter’s troubling implications for Beijing’s own ties with Pyongyang. Though China’s 1961 military alliance treaty with North Korea technically remains in force, Beijing has carefully avoided any public reference to North Korea as an ally.
The Korean War analogy, like all historical analogies, has its limits. Despite some structural echoes, today’s power dynamics are fundamentally different. Most crucially, China now holds decisive power advantages over both Russia and North Korea — making Beijing’s passive stance all the more perplexing. Its failure to shape events stems not from weakness but from an apparent reluctance to leverage its strength. Beijing seems almost hesitant to challenge Putin or Kim, revealing a curious diplomatic timidity where assertiveness would better serve its interests.
Beijing’s passive posture may stem from a deeply rooted strategic culture that begins by analyzing broad structural trends (xingshi). No prudent strategist can ignore such constraints, but this preoccupation often breeds overcautious, reactive policies. Such defensive thinking leaves China vulnerable to the bold opportunism of North Korea and Russia.
Chinese policymakers are right to worry about losing leverage over North Korea and Russia. The obvious remedy is to exercise greater initiative by wielding China’s considerable power more decisively. Mao showed remarkable initiative as a leader, but in the case of North Korea policy, Deng Xiaoping offers a more relevant model for today’s challenges.
In December 1985, Deng charted a new course on North Korea: “We should draw lessons from our dealings with North Korea. We should not give the North Koreans the wrong impression that whatever they ask for we will give them.” He was unflinching: “Of course, the North Koreans are unhappy. Let it be. We should prevent them from dragging us into trouble.”
China today must heed the lessons of its reactive, risk-averse stance toward North Korea. Despite its commanding position, Beijing has surrendered the initiative. The question remains: Why does China play such a weak hand from a position of strength?
