When U.S. President Donald Trump announced the immediate funding of the “Golden Dome” anti-missile defense system on May 20, the domestic response was surprisingly calm. To Americans, the idea of shielding their homeland from nuclear attack is intuitive, even overdue. But while the American public sees a safety net, China sees a strategic earthquake.
The Golden Dome represents more than just a high-tech umbrella against missile threats. For Beijing, it encapsulates a growing concern that the United States seeks not merely defense but dominance—especially nuclear dominance. The Chinese government’s response was swift and stark. Foreign Ministry spokeswoman Mao Ning, speaking the day after Trump’s announcement, declared the Golden Dome a violation of international treaties, a threat to global stability, and a symbol of American hegemony in outer space.
But why does one nation’s defensive system provoke such intense hostility from another? To understand the rift, one must examine the deeper geopolitical undercurrents, historical grievances, and strategic doctrines that frame the U.S.-China rivalry.
At its core, the Golden Dome is an ambitious project—reportedly combining ground-based interceptors, space-based sensors, and AI-driven tracking systems to identify and neutralize incoming ballistic threats. It builds on decades of American missile defense efforts, from the Cold War-era Strategic Defense Initiative (often derided as “Star Wars”) to modern THAAD and Aegis systems.
While technical experts have cast doubts on the feasibility and affordability of the Golden Dome—especially given the complexities of intercepting hypersonic or MIRV-equipped missiles—the political narrative is clear. Trump, who often frames U.S. vulnerability in visceral terms, wants to ensure America is no longer “held hostage” by nuclear adversaries.
In theory, shielding citizens from nuclear attacks should be uncontroversial. But in the arena of global nuclear strategy, defense can be indistinguishable from offense. Missile defenses can undermine the principle of mutually assured destruction (MAD)—the Cold War logic that no side would strike first, knowing it would face inevitable annihilation in retaliation.
Beijing’s concern is that the Golden Dome might neutralize China’s relatively small nuclear arsenal, erasing its second-strike capability and tipping the nuclear balance irrevocably in Washington’s favor.
China’s nuclear arsenal has long been modest in comparison to those of the United States and Russia. In 2003, China possessed roughly 235 nuclear weapons—comparable to the UK. Today, it’s estimated to have over 500, with projections suggesting it could reach 1,000 by 2030. This rapid expansion, marked by startling developments like the construction of over 100 missile silos in western deserts, has sparked alarm in Washington.
But from Beijing’s perspective, this buildup is reactive, not aggressive. For decades, China maintained a minimal deterrent posture, built around a no-first-use policy and a limited number of land-based missiles. What’s changed is the security environment. As U.S. military capabilities—particularly missile defense and precision-strike weapons—have evolved, so too has China’s doctrine.
Most notably, China is reportedly transitioning toward a “launch on warning” posture, akin to that of the U.S. and Russia. This would allow China to launch a retaliatory strike based on early warning data, rather than waiting to absorb a first strike. It also now keeps some nuclear warheads mated to delivery systems during peacetime—another significant shift.
To Beijing, the Golden Dome is not a benign shield. It is an attempt to rob China of nuclear deterrence and gain “escalation dominance”—the ability to control the pace and outcome of a military conflict, even at the nuclear level.
Mao Ning’s May 21 press conference included a key accusation: that the Golden Dome violates the 1967 Outer Space Treaty by “turning space into a war zone.” On its face, this charge may appear principled. But it rings hollow given China’s own extensive military activities in orbit.
In 2024 alone, China conducted 68 space launches—second only to the U.S. Its growing satellite constellation serves both civilian and military roles. According to General Chance Saltzman of the U.S. Space Force, China is investing heavily in space weapons designed to disable or destroy adversary satellites. These include kinetic kill vehicles, jamming systems, and even satellite “dogfighting” technologies.
General Michael Guetlein added that the People’s Liberation Army (PLA) routinely rehearses scenarios involving the disruption of U.S. space assets—crucial nodes in America’s military command, navigation, and targeting architecture.
This does not mean U.S. space militarization is innocent. The race to weaponize space is already well underway, and the Golden Dome may accelerate it. But Beijing’s finger-pointing obscures a shared culpability.
The nuclear dynamic between Washington and Beijing is marked by mutual suspicion and misaligned expectations. In arms control talks—where they exist—Americans typically seek practical measures to prevent crisis escalation: hotlines, transparency, and incident protocols. The Chinese, by contrast, insist on discussing strategic trust more broadly.
For Beijing, strategic trust means recognition of its “core interests”—particularly sovereignty claims over Taiwan and the South China Sea. From the Chinese perspective, the U.S. commitment to defend Taiwan (and frequent freedom-of-navigation operations in disputed waters) is provocative and inconsistent with claims of seeking peace.
Complicating matters further is the issue of “mutual vulnerability.” The Chinese insist that any serious arms control dialogue must begin with an American acknowledgment that the two nations are equally susceptible to nuclear devastation. U.S. officials have refused—either because they believe in maintaining superiority or fear that such a declaration would be seen as capitulation.
As George Perkovich of the Carnegie Endowment noted, many U.S. policymakers view arms control as a concession—something for academics and idealists, not hard-nosed strategists. This attitude has stymied negotiations, even as risks multiply.
The path forward is murky, but experts generally agree on three broad scenarios:
- An Unchecked Arms Race
This is the default trajectory. As China enhances its nuclear forces and countermeasures—decoys, maneuverable reentry vehicles, hypersonics—the U.S. responds with improved sensors, faster interceptors, and more ambitious defenses like the Golden Dome. This spiraling competition consumes resources, generates mistrust, and increases the risk of accidental escalation.
Worse, it may all be for nothing. Missile defense is notoriously difficult, especially against salvos or advanced penetration aids. The Golden Dome may never achieve the reliability needed to genuinely protect the U.S. from a determined adversary.
- A Grand Bargain
The idealist’s dream—but politically distant. A grand bargain would involve the U.S. and China reducing tensions not just through arms control, but by reimagining their entire strategic relationship. This might mean American acknowledgment of Chinese influence in East Asia, or Chinese restraint in its regional assertiveness.
At present, neither side appears willing to make the requisite concessions.
- Bilateral Arms Control
This is the most plausible, though still fraught, option. Quiet talks on confidence-building measures, no-first-use affirmations, and crisis management mechanisms could reduce misunderstandings. But unless the U.S. is willing to entertain reductions or transparency of its own, and unless China is willing to engage more openly about its nuclear plans, even this path may falter.
Some speculate that Trump’s Golden Dome announcement is a bargaining chip—meant to scare China to the negotiating table, much like his tariff threats in past trade wars. But if it is a bluff, it’s a dangerous one.
At its heart, the Golden Dome taps into a powerful American impulse: the desire to escape the horror of nuclear vulnerability. As Trump himself put it in March, “The power of nuclear weapons is crazy. It would be great if everybody got rid of them.”
But in trying to engineer invulnerability, the U.S. may deepen the very dangers it hopes to avoid. For every layer of defense America adds, China adds a layer of offense. The balance of terror becomes more complex, more fragile, and more opaque.
