This article explores the rationing methods for Allied and Japanese soldiers in Thailand after the Second World War II, when the country prescribed the base amount to feed Allied ex-prisoner of wars (POWs), garrisoned Allied soldiers, and surrendered Japanese soldiers. The rationing for the Allied ex-POWs started first, followed by the reception of the garrisoned Allied soldiers after their September 1945 arrival for the disarmament of the Japanese army. Meanwhile, rationing for the Japanese soldiers in Thailand started the following month by order of the Allied Forces.

Although Thailand prescribed the base amount of provisions at first, the Allied Forces adopted a ration scale based on caloric quantity. As a result, the procurement cost for foods ordered by the Allied Forces often exceeded Thailand’s, which created conflict between soldiers and their hosts. While the Allied Forces sought to follow the ration scale continuously, Thailand was interested in keeping ration costs within budget. Eventually, the Allied Forces compromised with Thailand, agreeing on the use of food whose price was within Thailand’s budget even though the designated caloric amounts were not met. The ration scale was revised accordingly.

However, the volume of provisions that had to be purchased was increasing due to the exhaustion of the stock of provisions that had been created by the Japanese army. The Japanese rice stock was especially hard hit, forcing Thailand to purchase sundries in addition to perishables. As a result, procurement costs soon exceeded the set budget. Moreover, certain Allied officers wanted Thailand to purchase rations from specific contractors, which resulted in further increases in cost. Furthermore, because the auction of provisions was held under the authority of local governors, doubt regarding their validity arose; observers had to be sent from Bangkok to supervise them. Meanwhile, contractor fraud resulted in the deteriorating quality of provisions and deception surrounding their volume. The Japanese soldiers suffered the most serious damage; they were forced to support themselves by cultivating vegetables or feeding animals to compensate the run out of provisions.

Providing for Allied and Japanese soldiers thus became Thailand’s burden in terms of work and cost. Although the efforts were funded by the peace-making budget, the overall trend was that Allied Forces’ demands consistently exceeded the budget while the cost for the Japanese soldiers remained within it.

This article examines China’s policy toward the Japan Socialist Party (JSP) from 1952 to 1957, analyzing how China applied the Five Principles of Peaceful Coexistence (the Five Principles) to its relations with Japan.

Existing studies on China’s diplomatic history have focused primarily on the application of the Five Principles to India and Burma, leaving China’s relations with Japan underexamined. Meanwhile, research on the history of postwar Sino-Japanese relations has focused on how China promoted the “Japan Neutralization” policy through its engagement with the JSP. Consequently, few studies have explored the connection between China’s overall diplomatic strategy under the Five Principles and its policy toward the JSP.

To bridge this research gap, the article begins by outlining the background of China’s policy toward the JSP. Faced with the failure of its efforts to support the Japanese Communist Party’s (JCP) armed struggle and to conclude a peace treaty with Japan, China used the 1952 Moscow International Economic Conference and the Asia-Pacific Peace Conference to persuade the Soviet Union to adopt a policy of peaceful coexistence. Simultaneously, China opened a new diplomatic channel by establishing contact with Matsumoto Jiichiro, a leading figure in the Left JSP.

The article then explores the turning point in China’s policy toward the JSP. Following Stalin’s death and the Korean War armistice, China introduced the Five Principles, seeking to establish them as a foundation for improving relations with the non-socialist camp. Within Japan, the Left JSP was the first to respond favorably to this initiative. Through the personal channel of Matsumoto Jiichiro, the party sought to open dialogue with China. In response, in October 1954, Chinese Premier Zhou Enlai directly conveyed to Left JSP Chairman Suzuki Mosaburo China’s intention to apply the Five Principles to Japan.

Finally, the article traces how China deepened its relations with the JSP. Recognizing the party’s growing prominence in the 1955 Japanese general election and the anti-nuclear movement, China began prioritizing this relationship over the JCP. During the party’s first official visit to Beijing in April 1957, Chinese leaders endorsed the JSP’s security vision for both Sino-Japanese relations and the broader Asia-Pacific region. Both sides agreed to build exchanges on the basis of the Five Principles.

By cultivating ties with the JSP, China ultimately recognized the limitations of its earlier radical approach toward Japan and shifted toward a pragmatic policy of gradually building political relations based on the Five Principles.

This paper examines the political and institutional processes behind the Chinese Communist Party’s (CCP) management system of intellectuals from the founding of the People’s Republic of China (PRC) until the Conference on Intellectuals in 1956. While previous research largely attributes early PRC intellectual policy shifts to top leadership preferences, ideological changes, or political turmoil, this study offers a reexamination by analyzing the structural friction and division of labor between the CCP and state government organs.

The CCP’s overarching policy pursued two inherently contradictory goals: maximizing the utilization of intellectuals for state-building and remolding their ideological stances. During the initial post-1949 period, the Government Administration Council and the Ministry of Education led policy implementation. This era emphasized a gradual approach to “self-remolding” while actively recruiting, protecting, and utilizing intellectuals to rebuild the nation under a framework of party-state separation.

However, the outbreak of the Korean War and subsequent domestic political movements catalyzed the organizational expansion of the CCP Central Propaganda Department. The Central Propaganda Department gradually assumed control over the management system of intellectuals from government education bodies, shifting the paradigm from “self-remolding” to stricter ideological enforcement. This intervention, highlighted by the 1955 campaign against Hu Feng, significantly shifted the policy balance toward ideological remolding, thereby generating tensions with the intellectual class and marginalizing the Ministry of Education’s authority.

Recognizing the adverse effects on national development, Premier Zhou Enlai attempted to restore the balance between utilization and remolding by convening the Conference on Intellectuals in 1956. Zhou advocated for improved working conditions, increased political trust, and the establishment of the State Council Experts Bureau. This new bureau was intended to reestablish administrative oversight, coordinate intellectual policy, and counterbalance the expanding influence of the Central Propaganda Department.

Ultimately, Zhou’s institutional adjustments were thwarted. The State Council Experts Bureau faced significant delays in its establishment, was relegated to a mere liaison office lacking substantial administrative power, and was eventually abolished following the Anti-Rightist Campaign. The study concludes that the PRC’s management system of intellectuals was not a monolithic blueprint, but rather a dynamic, evolving construct continuously shaped by the institutional friction between Party ideology and state administration.

In March 2018, the Central Committee of the Chinese Communist Party announced the “Plan to Deepen the Reform of Party and State Institutions,” declaring its policy to advance institutional reform. Since the beginning of the Reform and Opening-up era, administrative reforms centered on government institutional restructuring have been frequently promoted by the State Council and at local levels. However, the 2018 reform was a large-scale initiative that included not only the Party and the State Council but also the National People’s Congress, the Chinese People’s Political Consultative Conference, the military, and social organizations. While media coverage of Xi Jinping’s policies often examines their connection to his personal power base, there is also a need for thorough examination of what this reform signifies at the level of the political system. Therefore, this article positions the 2018 reform within the trajectory of institutional reforms since Reform and Opening-up, examines its characteristics from the perspective of the relationship between the Chinese Communist Party and the government—which lies at the heart of China’s political system—and aims to demonstrate the direction of change in China’s political structure.

Previous studies on institutional reform have tended to analyze reform cycles based on five-year periods following Party Congresses, have provided insufficient analysis from the perspective of the interplay between central and local reforms, and have not adequately located individual reforms within the broader historical context of reform and opening-up. Taking these points into consideration, this article analyzes questions such as how the 2018 institutional reform was connected to the reforms of the Hu Jintao administration, and what reforms were carried out concerning Party-government relations.

Notable features of the 2018 reform is that in certain domains, such as the Party Central Committee’s Organization Department, United Front Work Department, and Propaganda Department, the integration of Party and government organizations was advanced through “joint office operations” and “merger establishments.” Similar reforms were carried out at the local level as well.

Placing this within the context of post-Reform and Opening-up institutional reforms and examining it from the perspective of Party-government relations, the following points can be noted. The issue of separating Party and government functions drew attention in the late 1980s, but the reform was derailed by the 1989 Tiananmen Incident and did not become a focus during the Jiang Zemin administration. Under Hu Jintao, reforms that sought to integrate Party and government functions were permitted in some regions, paving the way for the 2018 reforms. However, the 2018 reform, in addition to improving efficiency through Party-government integration, further strengthened the Party’s leadership. Meanwhile, the policy under the Hu Jintao administration—which emphasized mutual checks and coordination among the powers of policy decision-making, execution, and supervision—has been weakened. Therefore, it is more appropriate to regard China’s institutional reform as having entered a new phase since 2018.

This study aims to prove the hypothesis that China is building itself into a “maritime power” through a comprehensive approach that relies on the socialist system rather than primarily on military power. To verify this, the study traces the history of maritime equipment development in China.

In China, where a socialist system is led by the Chinese Communist Party, various resources across sectors are mobilized to achieve national goals. Xi Jinping, who assumed the position of General Secretary of the Party Central Committee in 2012, understands this point and has advanced the “maritime power” strategy by leveraging this strength. Specifically, under principles such as “Land-Sea Coordination” and “Military-Civil Fusion,” China has coordinated and integrated diverse fields—including the maritime economy, maritime environmental protection, science and technology, domestic legislation, and international cooperation—and streamlined domestic measures by linking different domains such as the sea, land, and space. In doing so, China has adopted a strategy of extending its land-based governance into maritime areas, asserting its presence to secure Chinese interests.

Maritime equipment provides the physical foundation for this integrated approach. Today, China is engaged in the systematic development of maritime equipment for use across a wide range of fields, including shipbuilding, oil and gas development, fisheries, scientific research, power generation, marine engineering, and deep-sea mineral resources exploitation. However, the history of this development is relatively short, with a turning point occurring when marine technology was designated a priority area in the “National Medium- and Long-Term Science and Technology Development Program Outline (2006–2020),” published at the end of 2005. While the initial focus was on the utilization of nearshore resources, China had already begun to show interest in deep-sea activities then.

China’s maritime equipment development gained momentum after Xi Jinping became the country’s supreme leader. At that time, Xi recognized the importance of advanced technology in building a “maritime power,” concentrated investment in major projects, elevated “Military-Civil Fusion” to a national strategy, and pushed initiatives such as “Made in China 2025” aimed at mastering core technologies. By the mid-2010s, China had begun constructing a comprehensive marine observation network and the “Integrated Land-Sea-Air-Space Information Infrastructure” to promote industrial development in the maritime sector. These efforts intensified during the 14th Five-Year Plan period beginning in 2021, focusing on developing equipment to support economic activities in technologically challenging maritime areas, such as deep-sea mineral resource exploitation and oil and gas development. Consequently, China’s maritime equipment technology advanced rapidly. Building on this, China promoted the international dissemination of its maritime governance model.

Based on this study, which focuses on the development of maritime equipment, China’s “maritime power” strategy has been comprehensively implemented, encompassing not only military aspects but also a broad range of other domains supported by this equipment. Furthermore, this study finds that China has expanded its maritime equipment development efforts as it has become increasingly confrontational toward existing global frameworks amid escalating tensions in international relations. Chinese leaders may be pursuing an overly ambitious national strategy for political reasons, without fully addressing the scientific and economic conditions required. This highlights potential pitfalls in the “maritime power” development strategy reliant on the political system.

This article examines the role of marine environmental protection in China’s efforts to become a maritime power under Xi Jinping. Existing scholarship has primarily analyzed China’s maritime strategy through the lenses of economic development, military expansion, and security competition. This article argues that marine environmental protection is not simply an ancillary policy domain, but a strategic instrument through which China seeks to legitimize its maritime ambitions. By invoking environmental protection as a universally accepted value, China presents itself as a responsible and exemplary maritime power, while using that normative language to justify its own claims and practices in maritime space. In this sense, China’s marine environmental strategy extends beyond environmental policy itself, functioning as a process of acquiring inter­national influence—encompassing both institutional and productive power—to construct the maritime governance and maritime order that China pursues.

The article first traces the evolution of the discourse surrounding the construction of a “strong maritime country,” showing that marine ecological protection has been embedded in this agenda from the outset. It then examines the development of marine environmental policy through major planning documents, legal reforms, and institutional restructuring.

The article further identifies three strategic functions of marine environmental protection in China’s maritime strategy. First, it has been incorporated into China’s broader conception of ecological and national security, especially under the framework of the “holistic national security concept.” Second, it provides an important arena for the application of advanced science and technology, including monitoring systems, ecological restoration, and digital governance tools, thereby strengthening state capacity and showcasing administrative competence. Third, it serves as a diplomatic instrument through which China promotes the language of sustainable development, ecological civilization, and a “maritime community with a shared future.” Taken together, these functions show that environmental governance has become increasingly integrated into broader state objectives linking ecology, security, scientific capacity, and external influence.

Finally, the article shows that China is projecting its approach to marine environmental governance outward through international partnerships, capacity-building, and the dissemination of Chinese governance practices abroad. These efforts extend beyond environmental cooperation; they form part of a broader attempt to normalize China’s preferred maritime order by embedding its norms and practices within international cooperation. The article concludes that China’s marine environmental protection policy is not merely a framework for pollution control; rather, it should be assessed in its totality as the unfolding of a comprehensive national strategy that closely interlocks security, science and technology, and diplomacy toward the realization of China’s ambition to become a maritime power.

Low Earth Orbit (LEO) satellite constellations, characterized by low latency, high-frequency operation, and wide-area coverage, are attracting global attention as a new means of communication capable of complementing existing terrestrial networks. As the strategic importance of these technical characteristics becomes increasingly recognized, competition over satellite internet—particularly between the United States and China—has emerged as a significant geopolitical and strategic issue. However, its implications extend beyond the expansion of communication capacity. LEO satellite constellations are transforming how information on spatially dispersed activities is acquired and transmitted; in the maritime domain in particular, they have the potential to reshape the operational preconditions of Maritime Domain Awareness (MDA).

From this perspective, this paper examines the significance of China’s “satellite internet” initiative—advanced through LEO satellite constellations—not merely as the development of communications infrastructure, but as a factor shaping the operational preconditions of MDA, and assesses its implications for maritime security.

Chapter 1 traces the evolution of China’s information and communications infrastructure policy, highlighting its transformation from a conventional communications backbone into an integrated system spanning land, sea, air, and space. This system incorporates advanced technologies alongside computing power and data networks. Building on this, the chapter further examines how satellite internet has been incorporated into the national strategy for information and communications infrastructure since the 2020 “New Infrastructure” initiative.

Chapter 2 examines how China’s LEO satellite internet initiative has developed through multiple institutional forms, including state-led, local government-led, and private-sector-led models. Focusing on the Guowang (GW) and Qianfan (G60) constellations, this chapter evaluates implementation progress in terms of institutional design and launch performance. It argues that these initiatives should be judged not solely by current satellites counts, but as concepts premised on medium- to long-term expansion and operational connectivity.

Chapter 3 conceptualizes MDA as an operational chain linking data acquisition, analysis, and sharing to decision-making, and reviews China’s existing capabilities in monitoring the marine environment and identifying vessels through observation satellites such as the Haiyang (HY) and Gaofen (GF) series. Furthermore, the chapter argues that LEO satellite communications can enhance the temporal continuity and responsiveness of MDA by alleviating communication constraints in the open ocean and remote waters and supporting dynamic tasking—such as revisit scheduling and observation mode switching—as well as integrated command and control (C2).

Finally, building on the analysis in Chapters 1 through 3, this paper argues that LEO satellite internet constitutes a key precondition shaping “what forms of order become possible” in the competition over maritime order. Furthermore, through a comparison with multilateral frameworks such as the Indo-Pacific Partnership for Maritime Domain Awareness (IPMDA)—composed primarily of Quad nations—this paper highlights how differences in institutional design—such as whether LEO infrastructure is developed and managed on a national basis or shared multilaterally—could influence the future shape of the maritime order.

This study examines how China’s industrial policy as an “Investor State” incorporates defense technology venture companies, based on an analysis of their capital structures.

In China, the State–enterprises relation, as well as the country’s industrial policy, has shifted from direct control via State-owned enterprises to a model wherein the State participates as an investor—a phenomenon conceptualized as the “Investor State.” As the supply of private venture capital (VC) has stagnated, the relative availability of State capital has increased. Currently in China, State capital nurtures new industries and enterprises in a remarkably market-oriented manner.

The defense sector is no exception. National-level funds such as the National Military-Civil Fusion Industry Investment Fund, as well as the Industrial Guidance Funds (IGFs) provided by local governments, are actively investing in this sector.

Existing studies on the “Investor State” industrial policy and investment-driven defense technology support have explored the topic from the perspective of investors. Empirical research on what types of companies are receiving capital and in what forms remains scarce.

This study examines enterprises designated as Specialized and Sophisticated “Little Giant” (zhuanjingtexin xiaojuren) companies—a program launched in 2018 to support technologically capable venture firms as part of the drive for technological self-reliance. From among the 4,922 companies certified between 2019 and 2021, seven firms engaged in maritime defense technology were selected. Using corporate databases, the capital structures of these companies were analyzed. Although all seven are private enterprises, State capital investment was confirmed in every case. Even where the ultimate investor appeared to be a private VC fund, multi-layered investment channels were identified, with IGFs present upstream. Despite being defense-oriented ventures, the equity structures are designed to ensure incentives for entrepreneurs and employees. The pattern of involvement of the IGFs with defense venture companies is highly diverse, with fluctuations including share transfers among State capital entities. In enterprises that utilize technologies from universities or public research institutes, shares, in some cases, are granted to the institutions or researchers who provide the technology.

The behavior of IGFs, as revealed through capital structures, partially resembles that of private VCs. Compared with private VCs, IGFs indicate a stronger tendency toward risk aversion, and their investments are often conditioned on targeting specific industries or regions. The findings also suggest that IGFs support defense ventures by facilitating access to public resources, such as government-funded science and technology research projects. Rather than exercising corporate control, IGFs serve as connective devices linking ventures to the defense industry ecosystem.

This article conceptualizes China’s expansion of maritime rights and interests not as a sequence of isolated incidents but as a routinized governance process repeatable in peacetime. Recent maritime frictions demonstrate a consistent pattern: operations remain below the threshold of armed conflict while warnings, interference, boarding inspections, and detentions are layered in stages to create faits accomplis. Such dynamics are not adequately captured by force-balance indicators alone, such as vessel counts or platform deployment. Instead, they require an integrated analysis of law-enforcement procedures, administrative authority, and strategic messaging. While existing literature has clarified capability growth and the division of labor among actors, a gap remains in explaining, within a single framework, how central decision-making translates into frontline action and how that action is subsequently recycled through documentation and dissemination.

To address this, the article proposes a “3+1 model.” The three layers consist of (1) the central strategic layer, (2) the executing-agency layer centered on the China Coast Guard (CCG), and (3) the local/frontline layer including maritime militia and fishery actors. The “+1” component is a digital control infrastructure that links these layers vertically and horizontally by synchronizing surveillance, record production, and external communication. Empirically, the analysis focuses on post-2018 institutional changes, specifically the CCG’s command restructuring and the codification of maritime law-enforcement procedures. Methodologically, the study triangulates legal texts, organizational data, official statements, and incident records to trace the formation of procedural repeatability and public justifiability.

The findings are threefold. First, vertical command integration and hierarchical norm design created a procedural foundation for staged coercive measures, from warning to detention. Second, the digital control infrastructure standardizes monitoring inputs and evidentiary documentation, converting frontline conduct into administratively legible cases and increasing operational repeatability. Third, while this architecture strengthens centralized control, it also contains vulnerabilities: limits of observability, operational deviation at sea, and susceptibility to GNSS interference and AIS spoofing. Where direct access to internal administrative data is restricted, inferences drawn from a single data stream carry risks of both overestimation and underestimation.

The article concludes that China’s gray-zone behavior is best understood as institutionalized repetition rather than ad hoc tactical episodes. Policy assessment should therefore combine intensity indicators with metrics of procedural recurrence, record formats, and messaging sequences. To compensate for the limits of open-source AIS, verification should fuse SAR, optical imagery, and RF-related data to cross-check location and behavior. This framework provides an operational basis for deterrence and crisis management by shifting attention from discrete incidents to repeated governance cycles.

Among the “deep seas, oceans, and polar regions” in which the Xi Jinping administration advocates active engagement, China first expanded into the Pacific in the 1970s. Yet why does China maintain an interest in areas of the Pacific beyond the maritime zones over which it claims jurisdiction? Previous studies have emphasized China’s general desire to deny the United States access to the Pacific and to freely conduct marine scientific research in the region. However, because these studies have not systematically examined China’s policies, it remains unclear whether China has sought to restrict U.S. access since the 1970s. Therefore, this paper argues that China’s pursuit of its interests in the Pacific comprises three distinct areas of competition: securing access to deep-sea mineral resources; managing conflicts of interest with Japan, a nation bordering the northwestern Pacific; and engaging in strategic competition with the United States.

Influenced by the initiatives of developed countries to acquire marine mineral resources, China sought to enter the field of deep-sea resource development in the eastern Pacific. As cobalt-rich crusts, believed to contain significant rare earth element reserves, emerged as a promising target, China intensified its marine surveys in the northwestern Pacific around 2000. This shift generated conflicts of interest with Japan, a coastal nation in the region.

Japan-China competition in the northwestern Pacific arose alongside negotiations over boundary delimitation and joint resource development in the East China Sea. In this context, the idea that any compromise with Japan would significantly undermine China’s maritime interests gained traction in China. Given enduring historical grievances and the ambiguity of Article 121 of the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea regarding the legal status of islands and rocks, China is likely to continue denying the island status of Oki-no Tori-Shima, even after the Commission on the Limits of the Continental Shelf issues its recommendation on Japan’s application to extend its continental shelf based on these features.

Over the past decade, China has increased its deployment of marine survey ships to undermine Japan’s jurisdictional authority as a coastal nation and to erode U.S. military predominance in the Pacific. Therefore, denying U.S. access to the Pacific should not be understood as a consistent strategic objective. Rather, it constitutes a recent layer of competition that has emerged during the Xi Jinping administration, complementing earlier priorities of securing deep-sea resources and competing with Japan.

This study explores China’s construction of telecommunications infrastructure related to sub­marine cables, focusing on its objectives and implications for the Indo-Pacific. Since the 2010s, China has participated in submarine cable construction projects worldwide, enabling it to overcome telecommunications chokepoints and expand global connectivity. These initiatives have been embedded in broader policy frameworks, including the Digital Silk Road and successive Five-Year Plans, which have gradually shifted from infrastructure expansion to data governance and regulatory control. The 13th Five-Year National Informationization Plan, issued by the State Council in 2016, developed into the Digital Silk Road and articulated the goal of enhanced connectivity. The 14th Five-Year Plan subsequently extended this agenda to data utilization and regulation.

In the South China Sea, submarine cables serve not only as communications infrastructure but also as instruments for market access and regional integration of Chinese digital services. Simultaneously, Beijing has leveraged the strategic centrality of the South China Sea to reinforce and partially normalize its sovereignty claims in practice, despite their continued rejection under international law. Regulatory control over submarine cable projects constitutes a key mechanism in this process. Although the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea does not require coastal-state consent to lay submarine cables on the continental shelf, China has imposed permit requirements and environmental impact assessment procedures. These practices delay projects and raise costs for private firms, thereby creating economic pressure. Through such legal and administrative measures, China leverages economic and technological interdependence to expand its influence across the Indo-Pacific.

In response, private companies have suspended plans to connect undersea cables with China or have begun adopting alternative routes that bypass the South China Sea. Such countermeasures may help avoid deeper dependence on the South China Sea and reduce the risk of coercion by China. However, their capacity to deter China’s claims over the medium to long term remains limited. Therefore, Japan and Western countries must pursue policy measures that reduce China’s economic incentives and demonstrate that such claims lack economic rationality.