The observations above on China’s vision for a harmonious world, and its recognised dependence on the existing, Western-dominated international system made the Georgian conflict (particularly when seen as a thinly disguised US–Russian conflict) particularly troublesome for China. Whether the world is heading back to the Cold War (Bhadrakumar 2008) or pre-World War I settings, the ghost of the ‘West’s civil war’—which it was claimed ended with the collapse of the former Soviet Union in 1991—is being rekindled by the Georgian/US–Russian conflict. Given this spectre of general instability in the international system, ^[13] Beijing’s cautious approach is perhaps quite natural.

‘South Ossetia is a crisis with far reaching consequences,’ declared veteran Chinese political commentator He Liangliang in early September. ‘It is, nonetheless, a crisis of the West, not one for China.’ He saw the root cause of the crisis as America’s relentless effort to squeeze Russia’s security space, which was necessary for any ‘normal’ major power. Ever since Peter the Great, according to He, Russia had pursued an unrequited desire to join Europe (the West). Such sentimentality is particularly keen at the moment when Russia has largely recovered from its difficult transition from the wreckage of the Soviet Union. Western policies such as NATO expansion, the ‘colour revolutions’ and missile defence have created in Russia feelings of betrayal and rage. South Ossetia was, therefore, Russia’s strategic countermove. Unfortunately, He argued, neither the Russian-speaking Condoleezza Rice, who majored in Cold War history, nor German Chancellor, Angela Merkel, who grew up in a Soviet-type system, seems to have understood Russia’s ‘West complex’ (Liangliang 2008).

Medvedev’s predicament is, however, not new. Putin, like Yelsin before him, began his presidency with an unambiguous ‘Westpolitik’ (visiting Britain for his first foreign tour as Russian President, toying with the idea of Russia joining NATO and confessing to visiting US Secretary of State, Madeleine Albright, of his ‘European essence’ and his Asian superficiality). In time, however, Putin adopted an increasingly Eurasian dimension, moving away from his Euro-centric stance.

Perhaps it is time for the West to reflect on its current ‘Ostpolitik’ (missile defence, NATO expansion, and so on), not necessarily only for its own interests, but for those of the Russians. The alternative, of course, is to stay the course in making Russia a ‘problem’ for the twenty-first century.

When the ‘Georgian dust’ settles, the West could start to comprehend that the Sino–Russian strategic partnership is perhaps not as strong or as weak as it appears. It is still unclear how the current crisis between Washington and Moscow might play out. Washington has rushed $1 billion in aid, and Vice-President Cheney, to Georgia and NATO amassed warships in the Black Sea (Myers 2008). The US presidential candidates, too, rushed to demonise Russia and glorify Georgia as if there was no tomorrow. If this continues, the ‘West’s civil war’ could well turn out to be a ‘brave’ new page for the twenty-first century, focusing on Russia as ‘THE problem’. A key difference between this newfound obsession of the West and past stages of the West’s civil war is that the world is now in an era of weapons of mass destruction. Already, pundits are talking about possible ‘mushroom clouds’ of World War III if Russia’s rusting conventional military hardware fails to deter the other side (Sokov 2008). This scenario, no matter how distant, remains a possibility, which is qualitatively different from the nineteenth century, when the West dealt with the ‘French problem’ (the Napoleonic Wars), and of the twentieth century, with the ‘German problem’ (World War I and II). The latter sucked the whole world into the West’s own senseless, mutual slaughter.

If this remains a possibility, China will be better off staying out. This neutrality, according to He Liangliang (2008), is an indicator of maturity—not crisis—in China’s diplomacy.