China’s recent military trainings near Taiwan may look abrupt or unexpected, but for the many who are living on both sides of the Taiwan Strait, they feel like the latest episode in a stretched, familiar tale. The display of military strength is entrenched not just in the past few weeks of growing pressures but in many years of an unsettled past that persists to shape day-to-day life and influence political choices in the region.
For Beijing, Taiwan is not just an adjacent landmass — it is an emotional and political nerve. The separation goes back to 1949, when China’s civil warfare concluded and the conquered Nationalist government bolted to Taiwan as Mao Zedong’s socialists seized control of the mainland. Since then, Taiwan has built its own political structure and currently works as a pulsating, self-sufficient republic. China, however, has never accepted that separation and insists the island is part of its territory, destined to be reunified.
Military drills have become one of the ways China reminds Taiwan — and the world — of that claim. Fighter jets, naval manoeuvres, and missile tests are meant to send a message, especially during moments Beijing sees as challenging its authority. This week’s exercises come at a time when nerves are already frayed.
A history that still shapes the present
Taiwan’s political identity grew out of exile and survival. The government established by the Kuomintang on the island slowly transformed, over generations, into a democratic system with open elections and a distinct civic culture. Meanwhile, Beijing has consistently warned that it could use force if Taiwan moves too far toward formal independence.
For China’s select few, Taiwan signifies both a tactical issue and a matter of national pride.
China’s leadership places enormous weight on sovereignty and unity. Any suggestion that Taiwan is a separate country — whether in a speech, a map, or an international sporting event — is met with sharp resistance. Even Taiwan’s athletes compete under the name “Chinese Taipei,” a compromise that reflects how sensitive the issue remains.
Why tensions are flaring now
Recent comments and actions by Japan and the United States have added fuel to an already smouldering fire.
Last month, Japanese Prime Minister Sanae Takaichi said she would not rule out military involvement if Taiwan were directly threatened. In China, those words echoed old wounds. Memories of Japan’s occupation during the first half of the 20th century remain powerful, and state media frequently reminds the public of that painful history.
Then, Washington raised the stakes further. The U.S. State Department announced plans to sell Taiwan more than US$10 billion (S$12.9 billion) worth of weapons, including missiles, artillery and drones — a package that would be the largest arms sale the island has ever received from the United States.
Beijing reacted angrily, warning that such moves push the region closer to conflict. “This cannot save the doomed fate of ‘Taiwan independence,’” Foreign Ministry spokesperson Guo Jiakun said, arguing that outside support would only make the situation more dangerous.
For ordinary people in Taiwan, China, and neighbouring countries, the drills are more than abstract geopolitics. They are a reminder that beneath the trade routes and diplomatic statements lies a fragile balance — one shaped by history, fear, pride and the lives of millions who simply hope the tensions never turn into something worse.
