Taiwan in the Shadow of War

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Armored vehicles mobilize during a live-ammunition drill in Taiwan on July 14, 2025.Daniel Ceng—Anadolu/Getty Images

This is how the war will start. 

During a highly charged presidential campaign, a bomb explodes, unleashing panic and a wave of recriminations. Then a Chinese Y-8 reconnaissance aircraft vanishes in Taiwan’s eastern waters. Under the guise of search and rescue, Beijing deploys a massive air and naval force that quarantines the island. Reeling from forced sequestration, Taiwanese society suffers a deluge of propaganda and misinformation, pitting husband against wife, father against son. Political and financial interests foment infighting. By the time the first People’s Liberation Army (PLA) troops arrive, the island has defeated itself.

On Aug. 2, people across Taiwan tuned into this dystopian vision, which debuted on Taiwanese TV as the acclaimed drama Zero Day Attack, courtesy of showrunner Cheng Hsin-Mei. Over ten hour-long episodes, Zero Day Attack offers a forensic exploration of how a Chinese invasion of Taiwan could manifest, from the political and religious intrigue to media infiltration and economic manipulation. And while speculative fiction, Zero Day Attack is rooted in events already unfolding.

“If you go to the front lines, you can really feel the tension,” Cheng says in her central Taipei office. “China is getting ready to do something.”

Taiwan politically split from the mainland following China’s 1945-49 civil war and its “reunification” has been dubbed a “historical inevitability” by Chinese strongman Xi Jinping. The PLA regularly dispatches scores of warplanes close to the self-ruling island of 24 million, including a record 153 aircraft in a 25-hour period last October, in what Adm. Sam Paparo, head of U.S. Indo-Pacific Command, told Congress were “dress rehearsals for forced unification.”

“It is becoming more and more difficult to predict the possibility of the PLA turning an exercise into a real invasion,” Taiwan Defense Minister Wellington Koo tells TIME. “This is the threat and challenge Taiwan faces.”

Taiwanese President Lai Ching-te inspects a live-fire exercise featuring US Made M1A2T tanks, in Taiwan on July 10, 2025. Taiwan Defense Ministry/Handout/Anadolu/Getty Images

The specter of war is difficult to reconcile with the carefree bustle of downtown Taipei, where on a cool June evening bickering families and doe-eyed couples throng the city’s night markets as ever before. But the return of Donald Trump to the White House has injected an extra degree of anxiety over the island’s future.

Few places are scrutinizing Trump’s flip flops over U.S. backing for Ukraine with greater apprehension than Taiwan, whose autonomy and cherished democracy have been underwritten by informal American backing. While the U.S. switched diplomatic recognition to the People’s Republic of China (PRC) in 1979, Washington maintains a bevy of ties with Taiwan and is obliged by act of Congress to supply weapons needed for its defense. But Taiwan fears that the combination of Trump's diffidence toward alliances and global acclaim as a war-ending “man of peace” may embolden Xi into finally completing the revolution started by the only leader who’s wielded similarly unchecked power, Mao Zedong.

Xi has described bringing Taiwan back into the fold as the “essence” of the country’s “rejuvenation,” which must be achieved by 2049, the 100th anniversary of the Chinese Communist Party (CCP)'s five-starred flag first fluttering over Beijing’s Forbidden City. “Taiwan will have to come back,” one senior PLA officer tells TIME. “How can the strongest nation on earth not take back what it claims to be its own territory?”

In a May speech to the Shangri-la Dialogue security forum in Singapore, U.S. Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth said that Xi had “ordered his military to be capable of invading Taiwan by 2027”—a timeline first proposed by former U.S. Indo-Pacific Command chief Admiral Philip Davidson—though warned that an assault “could be imminent.” In remarks that pointedly failed to dial down the temperature, Beijing responded by warning Washington “must never play with fire on [the Taiwan] question,” which is “entirely China’s internal affair.”

Oriana Skylar Mastro, a professor and expert on China’s military at Stanford University, notes that the tenor of her conversations with CCP and PLA officials have markedly changed in recent months. “Before they would say, ‘we're so patient, there's nothing to worry about, Chinese people don't kill Chinese people,’” says Mastro. She was struck by “more inevitability” in discussions during her last visit to Beijing in May. “They would say, ‘why are you guys obsessed with 2027 when it can happen at any time?’”

If Xi is genuine in his desire to “complete the revolution,” the question is whether he will ever have a better opportunity than before Trump leaves office. He has vowed not to risk American lives in foreign wars, alienated allies with an internecine trade war, and culled the top China experts from policy circles. And for Xi, the clock is ticking. At home, young Chinese care more about scarce college-level jobs than reclaiming a sweet potato-shaped island cast adrift before their parents were even born. Meanwhile in Taiwan, already minuscule support for reunification dwindles with every passing year.

There are impediments, of course. Invading Taiwan would be the most complex military operation in modern history, dwarfing even the D-Day landing of World War II, and must be coordinated by generals who have not waged a major war in over seven decades. Then there is the economic fallout from excising the world’s top exporter of advanced semiconductors from global supply chains, which Bloomberg Economics estimates at $10 trillion. That’s some 10% of global GDP, far more than the shock from the war in Ukraine or the COVID-19 pandemic. Moreover, Congress is united in firmly backing Taiwan’s de facto independence. However, until recently, the same applied to support for Ukraine, and that sentiment has rapidly shifted among Republicans in thrall to the mercurial commander-in-chief. In July, a scheduled stopover by Taiwan President Lai Ching-te in New York City was canceled by the U.S. reportedly following a request from Beijing.

In his Singapore speech, while reaffirming U.S. support for the status quo in the Taiwan Strait, Hegseth showed his hand when he admitted: “My job is to create and maintain decision space for President Trump, not to purport to make decisions on his behalf.”

Against this backdrop, Taiwan is frantically attempting to raise the cost of conflict. It has purchased billions of dollars of missile systems, fighter jets, and other defensive equipment from the U.S., while ramping up indigenous defense industry with a focus on asymmetric warfare, such as drones and unmanned submersibles.

Compulsory national service has been extended from four months to a year for all young Taiwanese men. In September last year, Lai founded a Whole-of-Society Defense Resilience Committee to advise government departments regarding crisis management while also planning for disruption to critical infrastructure, supply distribution, and information and financial network protection. 

“The consensus is that Taiwan is under a bigger threat than ever,” says Tseng Poyu, a Whole-of-Society Defense Resilience Committee member and researcher for the Doublethink Lab NGO, which tracks and fights disinformation. “Tensions right now are at an all-time high.”

What Modern War Would Really Look Like

Things have been heated before, of course, not least on Taiwan’s outlying islands, some of whom sit less than 2 miles from the PRC. As Cold War frontiers go, that’s considerably less than the 90 miles from Cuba to Key West, and even narrower than the 2.5-mile Korean DMZ. Over the decades, the periodic exchange of rockets forced people on both sides to hunker down into deep defensive tunnels hewn from the solid rock. During times of peace, a propaganda battle took over, with gewgaws such as watches and biscuits dispatched by balloon to flaunt each side’s supposed affluence.

Taiwan’s island of Kinmen lies 3 miles from China’s port city of Xiamen, whose glittering skyscrapers loom through the sea fog. Kinmen’s beaches remain studded by rusting defensive spikes and even a half-submerged tank, whose corroded turret forms the backdrop for tourist selfies. Yet there is a reason why Kinmen remains to this day ruled by Taipei—some 140 miles away—despite being encircled on three sides by the PRC. Put simply, it serves to keep the fight alive.

Seizing Kinmen and other outlying islands would be relatively painless for China. Taiwan proper, however, remains another story. While an immediate full-scale invasion remains one option, an amphibious assault would be a far greater challenge than Russia’s land-based gambit in Ukraine, which itself has proven far from straightforward. Although only 90 miles wide, the Taiwan Strait is extremely treacherous, and transporting hundreds of thousands of soldiers across it could take weeks and require thousands of ships, whose slow pace makes them vulnerable to mines and mobile missile launchers. Few of Taiwan’s beaches are suitable for a landing, and these could be well-defended. Moreover, such a brazen attempt is more likely to spur the U.S. or allies to intervene, thus necessitating strikes on American assets and bases, raising a real risk of nuclear conflagration.

Indeed, military analysts agree with Cheng that any Taiwan offensive is likely to begin with a quarantine or blockade, cutting off supplies and attempting to pressure Taiwanese citizens into surrender. “Although the Taiwan Strait increases the difficulty for the PLA to conduct an amphibious assault, it also works as a double-edged sword that the PLA can take advantage of to isolate and blockade Taiwan,” says Koo. 

As Sun Tzu wrote in his 5th century BCE military treatise The Art of War, “The greatest victory is that which requires no battle.” Published PLA doctrine details isolating an island before dispatching ground troops. Three scenarios, in ascending orders of magnitude, could be: a quarantine, blockade, or full-scale invasion. It’s possible that any of these could be employed in isolation or incrementally.

Both a quarantine and blockade are similar in essence, though differ in personnel and severity. Rather than sealing off the island, a quarantine would aim to demonstrate China’s sovereignty over Taiwan, severely disrupting trade and life in Taiwan while muddying how the U.S. and allies can effectively respond without being accused of escalation. A key goal would be to compel countries and companies to comply with China’s terms thus turning Beijing’s claims over the territory into reality. It would be a severe dent to Taiwan’s spirit, making the islanders feel the walls closing in, that autonomy was slowly being erased.

A quarantine could begin by Beijing announcing “enhanced customs inspection rules” that require all cargo and tanker vessels to file advance paperwork with Chinese authorities. Noncompliant ships would be subject to on-site inspections, questioning, and possible detention.

The quarantine could target all Taiwan’s ports or even concentrate on just one, such as Taiwan’s biggest trade hub of Kaohsiung in the island’s south, which today handles around half of all goods. In this scenario, 600-odd Chinese coast guard vessels would take the lead, alongside the 3,000 or so armed fishing boats that form China’s maritime militia, although backed up by naval strike groups lurking close by. Chinese-flagged shipping vessels would universally comply and be allowed into Taiwanese ports, presenting a quandary to foreign ships whether to follow suit.

If China’s authority is respected, it will have established a “new normal” regarding its dominion. Were the U.S. or allies to attempt to intervene and breach the quarantine, Beijing could paint them as aggressors. “It's going to be very difficult for the U.S. to break through with any acceptable level of risk,” says Thomas Shugart, a former U.S. Navy officer and expert at the Center for a New American Security.

A significant step up from a quarantine would be a full blockade. Aside from Taiwan’s dependence on trade—exports comprise around 60% of GDP—the island imports 97% of energy and 70% of food, making it extremely vulnerable to a blockade scenario, which could be imposed in response to some perceived (or fabricated) provocation or escalate from noncompliance to a quarantine. 

Sources: Center for Strategic & International Studies; Council on Foreign Relations; Getty Images

If Taiwan refuses to capitulate in a quarantine or blockade, an invasion could follow. Under the guise of some perceived affront, such as a move toward formal secession, Beijing could announce live-fire exercises around Taiwan, similar to those which followed former House Speaker Nancy Pelosi’s protocol-shredding visit in 2022. That visit was “a godsend to us,” says the senior PLA officer, allowing China to rip up decades of established engagement protocol. “From then, there was no median line, no status quo.”

During these drills, Chinese submarines may covertly deploy sea mines at the entrances to Taiwan’s key ports and energy terminals. Beijing announces “special measures” to punish independence elements in Taiwan, warning that unauthorized vessels or aircraft approaching the island will be fired upon. Approved Chinese-owned commercial vessels are permitted to transit the Strait and enter Chinese ports. Food shortages would mean the disappearance of luxuries and the rationing of staples, sapping public morale. 

After Beijing announces that major Taiwan ports have been mined, sea traffic to Taiwan nosedives as shipping insurance rates soar. Meanwhile, the PLA cuts Taiwan’s undersea internet cables, strikes Taiwan’s communication satellites, and launches cyberattacks against strategic state and commercial targets. The PLA would likely launch missile strikes against Taiwan’s air force and naval bases and military command and control infrastructure.

China could back up these attacks with naval surface action groups surrounding the island as well as coast guard and other enforcement vessels. Nonlethal measures such as ramming and spraying water cannons are used first with deadly force against those who resist. PLA aircraft enforce a no-fly zone around Taiwan.

Over the last few years, China has been diverting shipbuilding resources from its Navy to Coast Guard, building destroyer and frigate sized coast guard ships on vertically identical hulls but painted white instead of gray. If China’s goal is to project maritime strength, then boosting its navy fleet would presumably take priority. Boosting the coast guard, Shugart postures, indicates preparation for gray zone deployment such as a potential quarantine. “Still, they need a credible threat of invasion for a blockade to be effective,” says Shugart.

China has also been working steadfastly towards this capacity, acquiring advanced weapons platforms and equipment five times faster than the U.S. Taiwan has fewer than 20 beaches on which an amphibious assault could land, and all could be fiercely defended. However, in March photos emerged of a series of new barge-like PLA ships dubbed Shuiqiao that can link together to form a loading dock from over a half-mile out to sea—drastically boosting Beijing’s land invasion potency.

“China has never said we will renounce military means,” says Prof. Da Wei, director of the Center for International Security and Strategy at Beijing’s Tsinghua University. “So China needs to have that capability.”

Were China to launch an all-out invasion, it would undoubtedly start with missile strikes against Taiwan’s air bases to neutralize its fighter jets alongside a cyber blitzkrieg targeting communications and key infrastructure. If the U.S. and allies intervened, or made clear preparations to, Chinese missiles would likely target U.S. bases in South Korea, Japan, and the Philippines. At this point, the U.S. could counter with strikes at Chinese bases. However, Beijing’s estimated 300 medium-range ballistic missile launchers—most of whose location is unknown—means they potentially have “the strike capacity to wipe the table clean of U.S. and Japanese bases,” says Shugart.

That Beijing is honing its ability to mount a blockade isn’t in doubt. Inside Taipei’s red-brick Presidential Office Building, a senior official for its National Security Council (NSC) lays out a map of the South China Sea. Blue circles mark Taiwan’s naval assets, with red denoting China’s. There is a lot of red—99 naval and coast guard vessels, to be precise, completely encircling Taiwan during PLA exercises last December. Among them is the Liaoning aircraft carrier lurking in waters close to the Philippines.

“Looking at where China’s forces are deployed, it's not only geared at Taiwan,” says the senior NSC official. “It feels like a practice attack against Japan, Taiwan, and the Philippines. It looks like they are trying to practice denying the U.S. access into this region. So this is very alarming.”

Indeed, China’s power projection is getting more brazen. In February, it conducted surprise live-fire naval drills in international waters between Australia and New Zealand, just 340 nautical miles southeast of Sydney, causing dozens of commercial flights to be diverted.

China has also been concocting a pretext for action. Despite being Cold War foes who remain officially at war, relations between the Republic of China, as Taiwan is officially known, and the PRC flourished under prior Nationalist, or KMT, governments due to the so-called “1992 Consensus,” which acknowledged that both sides belong to the same country even if their respective governments bicker over which is the legitimate power. However, Taiwan’s incumbent China-skeptic Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) has never accepted the 1992 Consensus, with Lai telling TIME last year, “we are already a sovereign and independent country.”

Beginning in late June, Lai further dialed up the rhetoric. He began a series of ten televised “Talks on the Country” delivered around the island. Far from the constructive ambiguity of the 1992 Consensus, Lai breathlessly argued that Taiwan and China are distinct, autonomous nations, drawing on historical, legal, and identity-based arguments linking the island’s heritage to Austronesian culture, rather than Chinese. Moreover, Lai defined Taiwanese identity as inextricably anti-communist.

Lai’s speeches were timed leading up to July recall votes that could have unseated 24 lawmakers for the pro-China KMT and thus tip the balance of power for his DPP in the Legislative Yuan. Lai himself characterized the recall vote as a popular, civic movement to “prevent annexation by the CCP.”

In the end, all the recall votes failed, which provided grist to arguments amplified on pro-China social media that Lai is both a separatist and, by backing the ouster of elected officials, also undemocratic. And in a worrying echo of Vladimir Putin’s justification for invading Ukraine, PRC propaganda insists it falls to Beijing to fix the resulting instability. “So now they're creating a Crimea-type of logic for an invasion of Taiwan that never existed before,” says Mastro.

In addition to military operations, Beijing would launch a campaign to weaken Taiwan’s internal cohesion and willingness to resist. Chiefly would be a massive disinformation campaign to stir up pro-PRC and other elements to urge negotiating a surrender. China could also offer to evacuate vulnerable groups of Taiwanese to the mainland. Beijing may recognize a particular opposition figure as its preferred negotiation partner, while inciting public unrest and demonstrations against the Taipei government. “The PRC aims to influence the international community to appease PRC’s aggression while inciting conflict and distrust in Taiwan, causing the civilian to question the government’s decisions and the capacity of our armed forces,” says Koo.

Again, such influence campaigns are already in motion. In 2024, 64 people in Taiwan were prosecuted for spying for China—more than the previous two years combined—with principal targets being current or former military personnel. Some cases involve individuals being recruited through online platforms and lured by financial incentives or snared in “honey traps.” In September, four former DPP staffers were jailed for espionage, including a former aide to President Lai, and a senior staffer to Joseph Wu, then foreign minister and now the head of the NSC. “One of the major projects we've been working on is trying to improve our security clearance systems and espionage,” one presidential staffer tells TIME. “Because as we've seen there are a lot of loopholes and problems.”

But while espionage cases focus on political insiders and armed forces personnel, a campaign of engaging Taiwanese civilians is also ramping up. For one thing, the CCP has a long history of recruiting “triad” syndicates to serve as internal operatives, and potentially as a fifth column tasked with coordinating sabotage efforts in the event of an invasion, according to an April report by Taiwan’s National Security Bureau, which serves as the NSC’s intelligence gathering and analysis arm. Similar groups were enlisted to attack Hong Kong’s pro-democracy protesters in 2019. “This is particularly worrisome because some of these criminal gangs are armed and talking about armed revolt,” says the senior NSC official.

Religious organizations are another focus. Taiwan is home to over 15,000 officially registered though generally unregulated temples, representing a blend of Taoist, Buddhist, and other folk religions, occupying both tiny incense-fragranced shophouses in bustling downtown cities as well as sprawling village gardens. Tseng says that problematic temples are usually started by Taiwanese returning from a stint living in China and who then run trips back to “motherland” religious sites to emphasize perceived shared history and values—and thus loyalty to the PRC. Cultural influence is a lot easier than the actual political influence,” Tseng says. “People who are opening these temples are usually very young, so good at promoting themselves through social media like TikTok.”

Aside from highlighting cultural links with China, a propaganda campaign is underscoring American capriciousness under Trump. The messaging accuses the U.S. of pumping billions in funds and weapons into the Ukraine war to prolong the slaughter without putting troops on the ground—and now Trump is demanding that money back. The inference is that Washington would employ a similar playbook in Taiwan, sending island’s youth to the meat grinder while ratcheting up an unserviceable debt. “The propaganda says the same will happen to Taiwan,” says the senior NSC official. “And so, Taiwan should move closer to China and stay away from the United States.”

How Taiwan Trains Its People to Survive

Taiwan is preparing for the worst. For ten days in July, fighter jets roared, infantry exchanged fire in crowded streets, and mobile missile launchers twirled their payloads from sandy beachheads as part of its annual Han Kuang exercises. The drills were the biggest ever this year, involving more than 20,000 reservists and double the timeline of 2024’s, an extension that corresponds to swelling fears of a Chinese attack. Alongside the drills, at 1:30 p.m. on July 17 deafening sirens wailed across Taipei, sending locals scurrying for evacuation centers, as an SMS flashed on every cellphone warning: “The enemy has launched a missile attack toward northern Taiwan.” While inspecting a field hospital simulation at a local high school, Lai insisted, “In the face of military and political pressure from major powers, preparation is our only option.”

Taiwanese soldiers participate in deep-battle exercises near Taichung on July 16, 2025. Daniel Ceng—Anadolu/Getty Images

Koo says Taiwan’s defensive posture is focused on four aspects:  asymmetric warfare capability, defense resilience, building reserve forces, and countering gray zone activity. “We have the faith and capacity to defend our territory, sovereign, and our civilians,” he insists.

At Zhongshan High School in downtown Taipei, an instructor for the Forward Alliance NGO sets a steel pan with gasoline ablaze before asking a dozen volunteers to take turns dousing the flames with CO₂ extinguishers. In the classroom above, more volunteers—teachers from schools across Taiwan—crowd around a desktop map of a disaster scenario, discussing where to block traffic, cordon off the public, and station emergency services to best handle whatever crisis is unfolding. Nearby more volunteers swathe a prone rubber torso in bandages before practicing CPR.

Enoch Wu, who founded Forward Alliance in 2020, says his organization has trained some 25,000 people in disaster response to date and today works with 368 organizations—churches, private companies, community centers—to instill crisis management skills. Courses include basic first aid, emergency-shelter logistics, and how to fly a drone to deliver a vial of insulin or assess and report damage to key infrastructure. The idea is to allow citizens to assuage the burden of Taiwan’s overstretched emergency responders, which number just 180,000 for 24 million people, or one for every 128 citizens. (By comparison, the U.S. is one for every 73 citizens.) “It’s not necessarily ‘how can I help my country?’” says Wu, who previously served in the Taiwanese Army's Special Forces Command as well as the NSC. “But more directly, ‘how can I help my family prepare for the next crisis?’”

In May, Forward Alliance launched an iCanHelp app teeming with information, from the nearest emergency shelter to survival planning and instructions for treating pediatric blast injuries. Developed with Microsoft, the app also includes a reporting feature linked to a national database so civilians can post pictures of blocked roads or collapsed bridges, for example, alongside GPS coordinates. A new campaign urges all Taiwan citizens to stockpile ten days’ worth of food in case of an earthquake, typhoon—or PLA missiles.

Forward Alliance works alongside President Lai’s Whole-of-Society Defense Resilience Committee, which has been charged with making recommendations to instill preparedness across society. Every government ministry consults with the committee regarding steps they can take to build resilience. It then liaises across industries to create a database of potential resources in the event of any calamity. These could be engineers that can help repair infrastructure, religious leaders coached on taking care of displaced families, or IT specialists capable of restoring communications. “Even Uber Eats delivery drivers know every shortcut in a city and could help distribute resources if that place is under attack,” says Tseng.

That Taiwan must look after itself is no secret given the island is only recognized by 12 nations and barred from international forums like the U.N. “We are far less powerful than Ukraine,” says Alexander Huang, international relations adviser for the opposition KMT. “We do not have any treaty allies. We do not have any joint training exercise or doctrine with anyone.”

Moreover, Trump’s recalcitrance regarding support for military action over Taiwan is broadly shared by its allies. Asked by TIME in May whether he would come to Taiwan’s aid in the event of a Chinese attack, South Korean President Lee Jae-myung replied cryptically: “I will think about that answer when aliens are about to invade the earth.” Posed with the same question, Australian Foreign Minister Penny Wong said she “declines to engage on hypotheticals,” while her Canadian counterpart, Anita Anand, replied that her government “adheres to a One China Policy.”

Japan and the Philippines have been the most strident in backing Taiwan’s sovereignty, though both have operational weaknesses and would only engage if called upon by the U.S. Yet the mood is much more forthright among ostensibly neutral nations, especially those of the Global South, where perceived American hypocrisy regarding Ukraine and Israel’s offensive in Gaza has bled into discussions across the gamut of U.S. foreign policy. The fact that the U.S. officially adheres to a “One China Policy” regarding Taiwan yet sells Taipei weaponry has been painted by Beijing as blatant interference in China’s domestic affairs. 

The truth is more complex: the U.S. “One China Policy” simply states that it “acknowledges” Beijing’s claim over the island without endorsing it. Still, a growing cohort across the developing world believes the U.S. is provoking Beijing toward a catastrophic conflict. Today, at least 28 nations firmly support China’s push for “reunification.”

“China could have invaded Taiwan long ago but chose not to because Taiwan was useful,” former Malaysian Prime Minister Mahathir Mohamad argues in his Kuala Lumpur office. “But the U.S. is not happy because there is no confrontation. You send Pelosi there to do what? To provoke China. So now China wants to show its strength, and Taiwan now has to increase its defense capability, buying weapons from the U.S.”

“The U.S. should not be doing what it is doing,” one former South Asian prime minister told TIME last year, asking to remain anonymous to speak candidly. “China will never allow anybody to interfere in Taiwan. If the U.S. goes to war with China over Taiwan it will be like Ukraine all over again and destabilize the whole world.”

Even staunch human-rights defenders have drunk Beijing’s Kool-Aid. “Taiwan is part of China as Hawaii is part of the United States,” Timor Leste President Jose Ramos Horta, who ironically won a Nobel Peace Prize for advocating for self-determination for his homeland, told TIME last year. “We don’t believe China is a threat to anyone. You [the U.S.] recognize Taiwan as part of China, and yet you continue to pump billions of dollars into that entity that you consider to be part of China.”

The Global Cost of War

One of the strongest arguments against war is the resulting economic devastation it would cause. Taiwan may measure a little less than 14,000 sq mi (or a smidgen larger than Maryland), but it punches far above its weight in global supply chains. Taiwan’s top trading partner is China, with the U.S. in second spot. The U.S., meanwhile, imports about $470 billion worth of goods from China, with some $143 billion flowing the other way. In order to entrench economic interdependence, Taiwanese semiconductor giant TSMC recently agreed to invest $165 billion in American chipmaking, the largest single foreign direct investment in U.S. history.

Any conflict would decimate trade routes, resulting in delays and higher shipping costs, with disruptions cascading through every region and economy. Taiwan produces over 90% of advanced semiconductor chips, which are vital for a broad range of electronics, from AI data centers to smart TVs. China, meanwhile, controls 90% of the world’s rare earth minerals, which are crucial for everything from missiles to wind turbines to automobiles. Already, in October, Beijing restricted rare earth minerals being sent to U.S. semiconductor firms as well as defense industries, which "cripples our capabilities at a time of rising tension particularly in the Indo-Pacific," says Gracelin Baskaran, director of the Critical Minerals Security Program at the Center for Strategic and International Studies. Any hostilities would no doubt lead many Chinese and American factories to splutter and die.

“Taiwan is so important to the world,” says K.S. Pua, founder of $5.5 billion semiconductor firm Phison, who’s credited with inventing the USB flash drive. “There is no alternative that could 100% take Taiwan's role. So if Taiwan shuts down, China is not going to benefit.”

But while these are good reasons for China not to move on Taiwan, they are conversely just as compelling an argument for the U.S. not to be drawn into a bloody quagmire were it to. Moreover, the potential for China to seize control of key assets that the U.S. is restricting Chinese access to via export controls—such as Nvidia’s latest AI-powered chips, which are exclusively made in Taiwan by TSMC—would be a tantalizing prize that could in one fell swoop redefine Great Power competition in Beijing’s favor. 

As such, the merits of the U.S. being drawn into a prolonged conflict over Taiwan will be hotly debated. Whereas former President Joe Biden on four occasions vowed to defend the island against Chinese aggression, it’s a subject that Trump has uncharacteristically shied away from. “I never comment on that,” he told reporters in February. Last October, Trump told the Wall Street Journal that he would deter China with tariffs. “I would say: if you go into Taiwan, I’m sorry to do this, I’m going to tax you at 150% to 200%,” he said.

Chinese President Xi Jinping attends The National People's Congress at the Great Hall of the People in Beijing on March 11, 2025. Yomiuri Shimbun/AP

But given Trump has already hit China with tariffs of up to 130%, it’s unclear what economic tools he has left to wield, or if Xi would even care. Time and again, Xi has shown a willingness to weather economic blows for state and party security—be it international sanctions over his crackdown on Uyghur Muslims, cutting tycoons like Jack Ma down to size at the cost of $1.5 trillion wiped off Chinese tech stocks, or meeting U.S. import levies in kind. “If Xi thinks he just has to pay a trillion dollars in tariffs for Taiwan, he'll pay it,” says Shugart. “You're not going to stop them with cost. He's willing to take that hit.”

There’s also a question of whether the U.S. even has the wherewithal to spoil Xi’s plans. Although the U.S. boasts the world’s dominant military, its navy’s 299 deployable combat vessels are spread thin across the globe. China, meanwhile, operates the world’s biggest naval fleet, including over 370 battle force ships with seemingly one target in mind. China’s medium-range missile arsenal has swelled from 600 a few years ago to 1,300 today, more than enough to decimate American bases in Japan, South Korea, and the Philippines.

Moreover, doubts over untested Chinese weaponry have evaporated following their successful deployment in Pakistan's confrontation with India in early May, when Chinese J-10C and JF-17 fighter jets shot down up to six Indian jets. “We had full spectrum dominance,” Pakistan four-star General Sahir Shamshad Mirza, Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff Committee, tells TIME.

Besides, a capacity vacuum is emerging as the U.S. defense posture pivots from counterterrorism back to Great Power competition. True, Trump has proposed America’s largest ever military budget of over $1 trillion for the coming year, much of which would go to asymmetric warfare systems—such as the “Hellscape” program of thousands of unmanned systems able to be launched from submarines, surface ships, aircraft, and land-based vehicles dispersed across the Indo-Pacific—that would give China a big headache.

However, these systems are still several years from fruition. In the meantime, four of the U.S. Navy's Ohio-class guided missile submarines that are capable of sea-launching tomahawk missiles and would be vital in a Taiwan contingency are due to be retired over the next three years. Meanwhile, the asymmetric systems Taiwan has purchased from the U.S. won’t be operational until around 2030. 

“Once shooting starts, there is a very, very high probability that Taiwan gets lost,” says Huang. “Because militarily, we can’t win. The war termination phase would be basically on the table, not in the field.”

Taiwan's Saving Grace

Taiwan’s one saving grace may be dysfunction in the PLA top brass, among whom a tectonic power struggle is raging. Since Xi assumed CCP leadership in 2012, more than 48 senior military officers have been prosecuted for corruption. Six are former members of China’s apex Central Military Commission (CMC), the tiny cabal led by Xi who wields the greatest power over the PLA. Two of those purged are former CMC vice-chairmen, including Admiral Miao Hua, who in late June was dismissed following an investigation for “serious violations of discipline.” Miao is one of the highest-ranking CMC officials to be purged since the 1960s and is particularly significant since he was personally elevated to the CMC by Xi.

The second purged vice-chairman is He Weidong, a PLA General who has also reportedly been demobbed amid an investigation. He in particular was the architect of China’s military strategy regarding Taiwan, though was believed to take a judicious and conservative stance on possible kinetic action. It’s unclear whether the ongoing purge is due to factional infighting, genuine graft concerns, or clashes regarding operational matters. 

In the past two years, Xi also has dismissed two defence ministers, Li Shangfu and Wei Fenghe, while the incumbent Dong Jun disappeared last November amid a presumed malfeasance investigation (though has since resurfaced). In addition, two heads of the PLA’s rocket force, which handles China’s missiles and nuclear arsenal, have also been sacked, while senior aerospace and defence business leaders have also been removed from a CCP advisory body. “Even in war China wouldn’t have lost so many generals,” says Huang.

The question is whether turmoil among China’s brass hats signals a military unprepared for a mammoth undertaking like a Taiwan assault. Or, conversely, is Xi putting the pieces in place to ensure only loyal generals who share his conviction for reunification are in place, before pressing the button. “It’s hard to say whether the anti-corruption stuff signals Xi lacks confidence or that he has a lot of confidence,” says Mastro.

Of course, the PLA isn’t the only military gripped by chaos. In February, Trump abruptly fired Gen. Charles Q. Brown Jr., the head of the Air Force and Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, followed by five other senior Pentagon officials. Then, in April, Trump dismissed four-star Air Force General Timothy Haugh from his role as director of the National Security Agency (NSA) and head of U.S. Cyber Command. In August, Hegseth abruptly fired the head of the Pentagon's intelligence agency, the chief of the U.S. Naval reserves, and the commander of Naval Special Warfare Command.

In addition, multiple members of the U.S. National Security Council have been axed, including Brian Walsh, a senior director of intelligence, and Thomas Boodry, the senior director of legislative affairs. In May, Alex Wong lost his position as principal deputy National Security Adviser. “The entire China team is wiped out,” says Huang. “There’s no specific Taiwan or China expertise in Trump 2.0.”

Taiwan’s survival rests on correcting this shortfall—and fast. The island must also ramp up development of sufficient resources such as dispersed smart weapons, including mines, anti-ship cruise missiles, submarines, UAVs, and bombers that can bring in cruise missiles from outside the theater. “Only sustained defense spending and the development of new weapon systems will deter China in the long term,” says Shugart.

For Zero Day Attack’s Cheng, the goal was to at least raise awareness among the island’s population about the stakes. It’s come at some cost; actors and crew have been blacklisted from working on future Chinese productions, she says, meaning many staff chose to stay anonymous, even if that wasn’t an option for the cast. Still, Cheng believes it was a price worth paying. 

“If we don't talk about this now, maybe it will soon be too late,” she says. “If China really does control Taiwan, then we can’t talk freely anymore.”

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