Communist China’s rubber-stamp parliament is deliberating on revisions to the Law on National Defense Education that would mandate military drills for middle school pupils and incorporate defense studies in primary schools. It is a step toward the securitization of Chinese society not seen since Mao Zedong. It is, perhaps, a sign Beijing is readying for war. For the West it is a call for a more realist approach to foreign policy.

Security has long featured in Chinese strategic thought. Imperial dynasties fixated on defending the nation-state from perceived threats from neighboring “barbarians.” Mao’s obsession with establishing China as a communist state militarized Chinese society against itself and in defense of the party. Deng Xiaoping, too, revamped the military to confront “modern conditions.”  The drive to fortify China against the outside is not new. 

Under Xi Jinping it has intensified, shaped by a view that regards internal and external security as linked. Such understanding is reflected in the “comprehensive national security concept,” introduced in 2014. The framework spans 16 realms from political security as the “bedrock” to economics, maritime, and ideology. It has precipitated political crackdowns, military restructurings, and restrictive regulations.

Last month, Beijing overhauled the People’s Liberation Army, establishing independent units for space, information, and cyber operations. It marked the most extensive military shake-up since 2015. The move likely signals Beijing’s view of future warfare. As I have previously noted, for China the information domain is key. It is through this lens, too, that the defense education law should be viewed. 

No doubt, the law aims to tackle recruitment challenges within the PLA. Decades of the one-child policy and a preference among students for private sector work has led to less recruits. Yet at its core, the law aims to spur patriotism and counter what Mr. Xi sees as “effeminate and vulgar” conduct among Chinese men, influenced by the West. Ideological and defense teachings are then needed to shield China from today’s barbarians. 

Many have been quick to dismiss such thinking as paranoia or a trait of power-hungry authoritarians. Yet such appraisals largely miss the mark. Mr. Xi’s outlook is, in its own way, rational, and distinctly realist. The term “realism” has recently surged into the political mainstream, propelled by conflict in Ukraine, Chinese bellicosity in the South China Sea, and war in the Middle East. Such events have fueled debates over America’s foreign affairs. 

Realists, it seems, need not apply. That’s too bad. Needed now is a realist foreign policy. Realism is a theory about state behavior. Like all theories, it is an attempt to understand, in this case, international relations. As the name implies, realism aims to explain global affairs as they are, not as they might be. For realists, power is king, and political mastery hinges on identifying who holds power and how they wield it.

Security is thus a constant concern. States obsess over power dynamics to gauge their vulnerabilities. Realism further posits there is no central authority to shield states from one another. States must rely on their own resources for survival. Realism is not inherently hawkish. Most contemporary realists, except a few like the late Henry Kissinger, tend to view overseas military exploits with skepticism. Nor is it isolationist or conciliatory. 

Realism is a guide, and today a valuable one. Thinking as a realist, say, makes Xi Jinping’s fixation on security unsurprising. In a world where states must fend for themselves, and amid what Beijing sees as a global balance of power shifting in its favor, China must resist foreign sabotage. Thinking as a realist, too, sheds light on Beijing’s U-turn on Deng Xiaoping’s “peaceful rise.” Deng’s approach suited an enfeebled China.

Yet realists knew a stronger China would try to alter the global order in its interest. One needn’t endorse such maneuvers to concede or engage them. Recognizing, too, that states rarely moralize about global affairs — America’s credibility isn’t based on perceptions of us being the “good guy” — but forge alliances likely to boost their survival, suggests we might amend our policies if we, too, hope to survive today’s geopolitics.

To start, we might jettison the notion that other states aspire to emulate us. We might also reconsider our appreciation of power and security in global affairs, and better grasp the perspectives of our adversaries. Beijing’s defense education law underscores the urgency of the task. It is one example of many. For everything there is a season. Now is the season for foreign policy realism.