The recent threat by Chinese Consul-General Xue Jian to “cut off that dirty neck without a second of hesitation” is not just an isolated diplomatic incident. It is the latest manifestation of China’s increasingly aggressive “wolf warrior” diplomacy, a pattern of coercive behavior that democratic nations from Ottawa to Canberra have faced with growing frequency.

For Prime Minister Sanae Takaichi, who triggered this outburst by stating that a Chinese attack on Taiwan could constitute a “survival-threatening situation” for Japan, the challenge is how to respond to Beijing’s intimidation tactics without falling into its narrative trap.

As Shingo Yamagami, former Japanese ambassador to Australia, warns, there is an equally dangerous trap that Takaichi must avoid: what he calls “China magic,” the spell that mesmerizes democratic leaders into excessive enthusiasm for good relations with Beijing.

Writing for the Australian Strategic Policy Institute, Yamagami observes that “both Japan and Australia seem to be absorbed by this magical power and obsessed with making efforts not to displease their Chinese counterparts.” This oscillation between wolf warrior threats and charm offensives is not accidental, it’s Beijing’s calculated strategy to keep democracies off-balance and divided.

The pattern is clear. Just months before Xue’s violent threat against Takaichi, Chinese Ambassador to Japan Wu Jianghao told Japanese politicians that “the Japanese people would be brought into fire” if Japan supported Taiwan’s independence. Yet as Yamagami notes with dismay, Japan’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs responded with only “a muted protest, delivered by telephone and not in the traditional and formal way of summoning the ambassador to the ministry.” This weak response to explicit threats of violence only emboldens Beijing to escalate further.

The playbook extends beyond Japan. When Canadian authorities arrested Huawei executive Meng Wanzhou in 2018, China’s Ambassador Lu Shaye didn’t merely protest, he accused Canada of “Western egotism and white supremacy” for demanding the release of two detained Canadians.

When Australia called for an independent investigation into COVID-19’s origins and strengthened its foreign interference laws, Beijing responded with what became known as the “14 grievances,” a leaked diplomatic document that read less like a list of concerns and more like an ultimatum.

Among Beijing’s complaints were Australia’s “incessant wanton interference in China’s Xinjiang, Hong Kong and Taiwan affairs” and, remarkably, “hostile local media coverage, foreign investment restrictions, critical think-tank reports and MPs speaking out on human rights.” China was essentially demanding that a democracy silence its free press and elected representatives.

Yet when Chinese Premier Li Qiang visited Australia recently, as Yamagami observes, the visit “ended with smiles all round despite the reality that China’s economic coercion against Australia is yet to be fully lifted and Australian Navy and Air Force personnel have been subjected to unprofessional, reckless and dangerous behavior by Chinese counterparts.” This rush to normalize relations while threats persist is precisely what Beijing counts on.

These incidents reveal a consistent pattern in Beijing’s diplomatic arsenal, the weaponization of progressive language, the inversion of victim and aggressor narratives and crucially, what Yamagami identifies as the “economy of enmity,” alternating between economic inducements and threats to pull U.S. allies away from their security relationships.

For Takaichi, the danger is threefold.

First, there is the immediate security challenge posed by increasingly belligerent Chinese diplomats who feel emboldened to issue what U.S. Ambassador George Glass called threats to “PM Takaichi Sanae and the Japanese people.”

Second, there is Beijing’s long-term strategy to shape international discourse by framing legitimate security concerns as manifestations of militarism or historical revisionism.

And third, as Yamagami warns, there is the seductive pull of China’s charm offensive that follows each round of threats: the promise of economic benefits if only Japan would distance itself from its allies.

So how should Takaichi respond? The experiences of Canada and Australia, combined with Yamagami’s insights, offer both cautionary tales and potential pathways forward.

First, Japan must work with democratic partners to establish a coordinated response mechanism for wolf warrior incidents that resists both threats and subsequent charm offensives.

When Chinese diplomats cross red lines such as threatening violence against elected leaders, the response should be swift, multilateral and consequential. This could include synchronized diplomatic protests, coordinated visa restrictions on offending officials and joint statements that make clear such behavior violates basic diplomatic norms.

Second, Tokyo should lead efforts to document and publicize the pattern of Chinese diplomatic aggression, including the cycle of threat and inducement.

A comprehensive database tracking wolf warrior incidents from threats of violence to accusations of racism, from economic coercion to charm offensives would serve multiple purposes. It would help identify patterns and anticipate future tactics, provide evidence for international forums and counter Beijing’s attempts to treat each incident as isolated or justified.

Third, Japan should strengthen its domestic resilience against Chinese narrative warfare and economic temptation.

This means investing in media literacy programs, supporting independent journalism that can fact-check Chinese claims and ensuring that parliamentary debates about China policy are informed by accurate information rather than Beijing’s distorted framings or promises of economic gain. As Yamagami notes, Japan’s leaders must guard against “any possible attempt by our adversaries to drive a wedge between parties.”

Fourth, Takaichi should champion new diplomatic norms for the digital age that account for Beijing’s dual strategy.

Just as the Vienna Convention on Diplomatic Relations established standards for traditional diplomacy, the international community needs updated frameworks for diplomatic conduct that recognize and counter the threat-charm cycle. Japan could work through the Group of Seven, “the Quad” and other forums to establish these standards.

The bottom line is that wolf warrior diplomacy is not merely about individual incidents, it’s about Beijing’s systematic effort to rewrite the rules of international engagement in its favor through what Yamagami calls the “economy of enmity.”

By alternating between threats and economic inducements, portraying legitimate security concerns as racism, democratic debate as interference and self-defense as aggression, China seeks to create a world where only its narrative prevails and its economic leverage divides allies.

Takaichi has already shown resolve, telling parliament she “had no intention of retracting her statement” about Taiwan. This is the right approach. But as Yamagami warns, she must also resist the inevitable charm offensive that will follow. The path forward requires neither appeasement nor unnecessary provocation, but rather principled consistency backed by democratic solidarity that can withstand both Beijing’s threats and its temptations.

In standing up to wolf warrior diplomacy and resisting China’s “magic,” Japan wouldn’t be embracing militarism or revisionism; it would be defending the basic norms that make peaceful international relations possible. And in that effort, Tokyo would find ready partners from Ottawa to Canberra and beyond, provided they all remember Yamagami’s crucial warning: They must stand firm together against both the wolf and the sheep’s clothing it sometimes wears.

This article was first published on November 13, 2025, at The Japan Times.