Taiwan’s “silicon shield” could be weakening

Squarely in the middle

Taiwan’s modern security uncertainties stem from the long-­contested issue of the island’s sovereignty. After losing the first Sino-Japanese War in the late 1800s, the Qing dynasty forfeited Taiwan to Japanese imperial control. It was Japan’s “model colony” until 1945, when postwar negotiations resulted in its transfer to the Republic of China under Chiang Kai-shek of the Nationalist Party, known as the KMT. The insurgent CCP under Mao Zedong ultimately defeated the Nationalists in a civil war fought on the mainland until 1949. Chiang and many of his party’s defeated generals decamped to Taiwan, controlling it under martial law for nearly 40 years. 

Taiwan held its first free democratic elections in 1996, kicking off a two-party rivalry between the KMT, which favors closer relations with Beijing, and the DPP, which opposes integration with China. Kitchen-table issues like economic growth are central to Taiwanese elections, but so is the overarching question of how best to handle the threat of invasion, which has persisted for nearly 80 years. The DPP is increasingly calling for raising defense spending and civilian preparedness to make sure Taiwan is ready for the worst, while the KMT supports direct talks with Beijing.  

REBECCA NOBLE/BLOOMBERG VIA GETTY IMAGES

Meanwhile, Chinese military incursions around Taiwan—known as “gray zone” tactics because they fall short of acts of war—are increasingly frequent. In May, Taiwan’s defense ministry reportedly estimated that Chinese warplanes were entering Taiwan’s air defense zone more than 200 times a month, up from fewer than 10 times per month five years ago. China has conducted drills mirroring the actions needed for a full-scale invasion or a blockade, which would cut Taiwan off from the outside world. Chinese military officials are now publicly talking about achieving a blockade, says Lyle Morris, an expert on foreign policy and national security at the Asia Society Policy Institute. “They’re punishing Lai and the DPP,” Morris says. Meanwhile, the CCP has its own people to answer to: When it comes to the Taiwan issue, Morris says, “Beijing is probably quite worried about the people of China being upset if they aren’t hawkish enough or if they come out looking weak.” Indeed, in response to Lai’s recent policy statements, including one declaring that China is a “hostile foreign force,” Gao Zhikai, a prominent scholar in China who opposes Taiwanese independence, recently wrote, “The reunification with the motherland cannot be endlessly delayed. Decisive action must be taken.” 

Intimidation from China has made some ordinary Taiwanese citizens more concerned; according to a recent poll conducted by a defense-focused think tank, 51% think defense spending should be increased (although 65% of respondents said they thought an attack within five years was “unlikely”). No matter how much money Taipei spends, the sheer military imbalance between China and Taiwan means Taiwan would need help. But especially in the wake of Ukraine’s experience, many believe US aid would be contingent on whether Taiwan demonstrates the will to defend itself. “Based on war games, Taiwan would have to hold out for a month before the US could potentially intervene,” says Iris Shaw, director of the DPP mission in the US. And support from Taiwan’s neighbors like Japan might be contingent on US involvement.

But how likely is the US to intervene in such a scenario? The author Craig Addison popularized the argument that Taiwan’s fate is tied to its chip production prowess in his 2001 book Silicon Shield: Taiwan’s Protection Against Chinese Attack. Back then, Addison wrote that although the US had been intentionally vague about whether it would go to war to protect the island, America’s technological reliance on “a safe and productive Taiwan” made it highly probable that Washington would intervene. President Joe Biden deviated from those decades of calculated ambiguity by asserting multiple times that America would defend the island in the event of an attack. Yet now, Trump seems to have taken the opposite position, possibly presenting an opportunity for Beijing. 

TSMC in the Trump era 

In many ways, Taiwan finds itself in a catch-22. It feels the need to cozy up to the US for protection, yet that defensive maneuver is arguably risky in itself. It’s a common belief in Taiwan that forging stronger ties to the US could be dangerous. According to a public opinion poll released in January, 34.7% of Taiwanese believe that a “pro-US” policy provokes China and will cause a war. 

But the Lai administration’s foreign policy is “inexorably intertwined with the notion that a strong relationship with the US is essential,” says Hammond-Chambers.

Bolstering US support may not be the only reason TSMC is building fabs outside Taiwan. As the company readily points out, the majority of its customers are American. TSMC is also responding to its home base’s increasingly apparent land and energy limitations: finding land to build new fabs sometimes causes rifts with Taiwanese people who, for example, don’t want their temples and ancestral burial sites repurposed as science parks. Taiwan also relies on imports to meet more than 95% of its energy needs, and the dominant DPP has pledged to phase out nuclear, Taiwan’s most viable yet most hotly contested renewable energy source. Geopolitical tensions compound these physical restraints: Even if TSMC would never say as much, it’s fairly likely that if China did attack Taiwan, the firm would rather remain operational in other countries than be wiped out completely.