China wants the Global South to see it as a champion of developing countries, a defender of sovereignty and a counterweight to Western dominance. But when defending those principles threatens Beijing’s economic interests or risks confrontation with Washington, its revolutionary language often gives way to diplomatic caution.
This contradiction raises an uncomfortable question. Is China building a fairer international order, or simply positioning itself to inherit the privileges of the one it claims to challenge?
For decades, Beijing has presented itself as the voice of countries marginalised by Western power. It invokes its own history of foreign domination, champions South-South cooperation and cultivates relationships across Africa, Asia, Latin America and the Caribbean.
Its economic rise, technological advances and reduction of extreme poverty offer developing countries lessons worth studying. Yet economic success does not automatically confer moral authority, and the ability to trade with the Global South does not establish a right to lead it.
China’s leadership ambitions deserve scrutiny precisely because the developing world needs genuine partners, not another superpower demanding loyalty while pursuing its own strategic interests.
The contradictions become particularly visible when international crises test Beijing’s commitment to sovereignty and solidarity. In an article published by Project Syndicate on August 30, 2026, Adekeye Adebajo questioned China’s credentials as a champion of the Global South, pointing to Beijing’s muted response to American intervention in Venezuela and US-Israeli attacks on Iran, as well as its decision not to veto a United Nations Security Council resolution condemning Iranian attacks on Gulf countries.
These episodes raise questions about the consistency of China’s foreign policy. If sovereignty is sacred, should it not be defended consistently, regardless of whether the country under pressure is a strategic partner, an oil supplier or a state whose conduct Beijing finds inconvenient?
Of course, condemning military action, opposing a particular resolution and exercising a Security Council veto are different diplomatic choices. China is not obliged to endorse every action taken by a partner, and Iran’s attacks on Gulf states cannot simply be ignored.
But Beijing must explain how its decisions fit into the principles it repeatedly invokes when criticising Western power. The problem is not that China refuses to confront the United States at every opportunity. Responsible diplomacy requires restraint, negotiation and the avoidance of unnecessary military escalation.
The problem is the gap between China’s claim to represent the developing world and its willingness to bear the diplomatic costs of defending the principles it says unite that world. China wants the prestige of leadership, but does it accept the responsibilities that come with it?
China’s defenders can rightly point to the double standards of Western governments. The United States has repeatedly used its Security Council veto to shield Israel from resolutions critical of its conduct. Washington has also deployed its economic and military power in ways that have generated deep resentment across the developing world. But Western hypocrisy does not automatically make China an alternative champion of justice. One superpower’s failures cannot serve as a permanent excuse for another’s inconsistencies. The Global South should not have to choose between Washington’s dominance and Beijing’s ambitions. Its countries have their own national interests, political priorities and development needs. Their sovereignty means having the freedom to disagree with both powers without being punished, pressured or forced into geopolitical camps.
China’s economic relationship with Africa illustrates why this distinction matters. Chinese investment, infrastructure financing, trade and access to manufactured goods have created opportunities for many African economies. Roads, railways, power projects and industrial facilities can make meaningful contributions to development. However, these benefits do not eliminate difficult questions about the structure of that relationship. Cheap Chinese imports can benefit consumers while placing pressure on local manufacturers. Infrastructure investment can address serious development gaps without necessarily building sufficient domestic technological capacity. Trade can expand dramatically while an African country remains dependent on exporting raw materials and importing finished products.
The Democratic Republic of Congo, Zambia and Angola offer three examples of these contradictions. In the Democratic Republic of Congo, the Sicomines minerals-for-infrastructure partnership gives Chinese companies access to copper and cobalt in exchange for infrastructure investment, but questions have persisted over whether the country receives sufficient value from its mineral wealth. In Zambia, Chinese investment has supported mining and manufacturing, yet the 2025 toxic waste spill associated with Chinese-owned Sino-Metals Leach Zambia raised serious concerns about environmental safeguards after acidic waste entered the Kafue River. In Angola, Chinese loans and infrastructure investments have helped fund post-war reconstruction, but the country’s heavy dependence on crude oil exports illustrates the difficulty of achieving economic diversification despite extensive cooperation with Beijing. These cases do not mean that Chinese investment brings no benefits. They demonstrate that infrastructure