The Pacific’s Bargains: How Small Islands Shape Great Power Competition

By Tamuz Itai
Tamuz Itai
Tamuz Itai
Tamuz Itai is a journalist and columnist who lives in Tel Aviv, Israel.
September 26, 2025Updated: October 1, 2025

Commentary

At first glance, the Pacific looks like a vast empty ocean dotted with small islands. But politically, that image is misleading. These “small” states command huge exclusive economic zones. They may have tiny populations, but they sit on enormous maritime real estate. That is leverage.

Pacific Island leaders know this. They have long followed a motto: “Friends to all, enemies to none.” They don’t want to be absorbed into someone else’s great-power rivalry—they want to maximize what they can get from it. And they have become adept at doing exactly that.

The Climate Card: Existential and Instrumental

In 2018, Pacific leaders signed the Boe Declaration, which called climate change “the single greatest threat to the livelihoods, security, and wellbeing of the peoples of the Pacific.” Rising seas, cyclones, disappearing fisheries—these are not abstract fears. Sea levels around Tuvalu and Kiribati are rising at two to three times the global average. Category 5 cyclones in Fiji and Vanuatu have destroyed infrastructure equal to half of gross domestic product in a single strike. For island nations, they perceive facing climate change as survival.

But the climate card is also a political instrument. It does two things at once. First, it attracts resources: billions in climate finance, development aid, and nongovernmental organization projects that would not otherwise flow. Second, it signals neutrality. By framing climate as the central threat, Pacific leaders avoid being forced to choose between China and the United States. Whoever delivers solar projects, seawalls, or disaster relief is welcome. The rhetoric is dual-use.

This pragmatism is not new. After Fiji’s 2006 coup triggered sanctions from Australia, New Zealand, and the United States, Fiji pivoted to China, India, Indonesia, and Russia under a “Look North” policy. If one door closes, Pacific leaders know how to open another.

The Deals on the Table

Pacific pragmatism comes alive in the deals governments sign. China’s loans and projects are the most visible. In 2022, the Solomon Islands accepted a $66 million loan to build 161 Huawei telecom towers. In 2024, Malaita Province signed the Auki Road project with Beijing just days after local leaders opposing Chinese influence were arrested. Tonga borrowed heavily from China to rebuild its capital after riots in 2006, leaving debts that still weigh on its budget.

Western partners play differently. Australia launched a $2 billion Pacific infrastructure fund and joined the United States and Japan in electrifying Papua New Guinea. New Zealand’s Pacific Reset emphasized governance and climate aid. The United States reopened its embassy in Honiara, Solomon Islands, in 2019 and renewed its Compacts of Free Association with Palau, Micronesia, and the Marshall Islands—agreements worth billions of dollars that secure U.S. military access and strategic denial over huge stretches of ocean.

For Pacific leaders, these aren’t necessarily ideological choices. They are pragmatic bids for infrastructure, finance, and survival. And every deal carries both opportunity and risk.

Not All Partners Are Alike

At first, all the deals look like wins: new roads, telecom towers, and rebuilt capitals. But not all partners are the same. Western aid often comes with visible conditions—oversight, governance reforms, or defense commitments. That can feel heavy-handed, but it makes the long-term risks transparent. China’s projects arrive with fewer conditions upfront: just cash, contractors, and ribbon-cuttings. The trade-off is speed today for dependency tomorrow.

In Tonga, Chinese loans became a fiscal noose, repeatedly forcing renegotiation. In the Solomon Islands, the Huawei towers loan locked critical infrastructure into Chinese technology. In Malaita, Premier Daniel Suidani resisted Chinese projects and was eventually ousted and arrested, a warning about the costs of opposition. Analysts call this lawfare—the use of courts, contracts, and debts to constrain opponents. 

An old Chinese proverb warns: 请神容易,送神难—“Inviting a deity is easy; sending one away is hard.” Once embedded, Beijing’s projects and police are far harder to unwind. Neutrality may work at the start, but often it slides into alignment over time.

Beijing’s Vocabulary

China’s official language about the Pacific sounds benign: “win-win,” “no backyard,” “nontraditional security.” But in Party culture, these words mean something different. A few examples prove the point: “Not anyone’s backyard” positions China as a liberator from U.S. and Australian influence while building its own sphere. “Win-win cooperation” signals asymmetry: short-term benefit for the smaller partner and structural leverage for Beijing. “Nontraditional security” covers police deployments, surveillance systems, and ship visits, as in the Solomon Islands pact. “Aid with no political conditions” means no democracy checks upfront but eventual quiet alignment with many strings attached.

Chinese leader Xi Jinping’s “Four Respects” wrap these terms in sovereignty language. But they actually mean: Don’t question One-China, don’t criticize the Party, and accept their projects as respect for their traditions, or you might “hurt the Chinese people’s feelings.”

Over time, this vocabulary spreads. Pacific leaders now use “South-South cooperation” and “win-win” in their own speeches. Once the words are adopted, the framing shifts, and the illusion becomes a political reality.

Agency and Resistance

But Pacific leaders are not powerless. Some have said no, even at great cost. In 2019, Suidani issued the “Auki Communiqué,” banning CCP-backed projects and affirming ties with Taiwan. Tuvalu has held firm with Taipei despite regional pressure. Collectively, the Blue Pacific narrative asserts a regional identity that resists being picked off one by one.

These decisions remind us that agency exists. Choices made today can be reversed tomorrow. Governments change, public opinion shifts, alignments rebalance. That is why our own analysis must be clear but respectful: Condemnation closes doors, while understanding keeps the possibility of change alive.

Why the CCP Cares: Geography Is Destiny

To see why Beijing invests so heavily, we just need to look at the map. America’s dominance rests on Hawaii, Guam, and Okinawa: Hawaii is the hinge—a logistics hub that makes the Pacific traversable. Guam is the unsinkable aircraft carrier—a U.S. territory armed with bombers, subs, and missile defenses. Okinawa is the forward edge—U.S. fighters there can reach Taiwan in less than an hour. Remove these anchors, and U.S. deterrence decreases substantially.

China looks east and sees no equivalent. Without footholds, it is pinned to its coastline. With them, it can shorten its supply lines and stretch U.S. supply lines. Kiribati’s Kanton Island lies just 3,000 kilometers from Hawaii. A refurbished runway there could one day host surveillance or refueling. The Solomon Islands’ pact allows Chinese police and ship visits. Reports now point to Chinese officers piloting data-collection programs in Malaita. Vanuatu and Papua New Guinea have deep-water wharves and port projects that look commercial today but could be dual-use tomorrow.

Beijing doesn’t have its Guam yet. But it is laying the groundwork, one project at a time. Just as America built dominance with its island chain, China is assembling stepping stones of its own.

Exercises: Who Trains With Whom

Bases matter, but so do habits of cooperation. The U.S. networks are thick with exercises: RIMPAC, Talisman Sabre, and constant bilateral drills with Japan, the Philippines, and Pacific compact states. These rehearsals build interoperability and trust.

China has little to match. Its navy drills with Russia, sometimes in the North Pacific but not with Pacific Islands themselves. In the islands, China’s footprint has been police training and equipment donations, not warfighting drills. Yet the trend line is clear: Disaster management, maritime policing, and climate cooperation can all evolve into joint exercises.

If Beijing succeeds in hosting its first joint exercise with a Pacific Island country, it will mark a turning point: China’s influence will have moved from financial and political into the region’s security rhythms.

Closing Reflection

The Pacific may look like scattered islands, but in terms of strategy, it is the ocean that matters. Whoever holds the stepping stones shapes the balance of power across half the globe. For decades, that advantage belonged to the United States. But Beijing has been studying the playbook. Its loans, ports, and security pacts are aimed at building anchors of its own.

The paradox is clear: Pacific leaders are not reckless. They bargain for survival. Yet what looks like pragmatism in the short term can harden into alignment in the long term. If today’s bargains close tomorrow’s doors, the balance of the Pacific—once lost—may be hard to win back.

Views expressed in this article are the opinions of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of The Epoch Times.