On Wednesday 16 July, Papua New Guinea’s Foreign Minister, Justin Tkatchenko, informed the Chinese Ambassador in Port Moresby, Yang Xiaoguang, of the decision to close Taiwan’s representative office in the country.

The following day, he made the decision public in a statement posted on Facebook: “The physical presence of ‘Chinese Taipei’ will no longer be recognised or required within the jurisdiction of Papua New Guinea.”
It is worth noting that the statement deliberately uses “Chinese Taipei” — the designation imposed on Taiwan in international sporting competitions — rather than the office’s official name, the Taipei Economic and Cultural Representative Office. This is a lexical detail that is by no means coincidental.

The Port Moresby government has described the move as an “administrative measure” aimed at “reaffirming Papua New Guinea’s ‘One China’ policy ”. The problem lies entirely in what lies behind this move.

Taiwan’s reaction: protest, but no surrender

The Ministry of Foreign Affairs in Taipei reacted swiftly and on several fronts. It lodged a formal protest, describing the decision as unilateral and taken without any prior consultation.
It stated that it did not accept the decision and announced that the office would continue to operate as normal — a fact that was promptly confirmed: on Friday, despite the order for immediate closure, the economic office’s telephone number was still operational. A form of silent, almost symbolic resistance, yet one that is politically significant.

Foreign Minister Lin Chia-lung has announced that Taipei is reassessing its bilateral cooperation and economic ties with Papua New Guinea, and that it has already informed its “like-minded partners” — a diplomatic phrase referring to the United States, Australia, Japan and Taiwan’s few remaining diplomatic allies — and has called a meeting to assess countermeasures to safeguard Taiwanese interests in the country.

But the most unequivocal statement came from Vice-President Hsiao Bi-khim, who chose direct, almost unusually blunt language by diplomatic standards: “Our diplomatic situation is indeed extremely difficult. China is suppressing us everywhere — stifling our chances of survival and of expanding our international presence.”
She added: “This is a setback for us, but we will continue to fight — for opportunities, both for our compatriots abroad and to continue expanding our cooperation with the international community.”

The master’s applause

On the other hand, the Chinese reaction came with the speed and satisfaction of those who had been expecting precisely this news. Foreign Ministry spokesperson Lin Jian stated at a press conference that Beijing “warmly commends the decision”, adding that it “demonstrates once again that adherence to the One-China principle is the direction in which international public opinion and the course of history are heading.”
A statement crafted specifically to be picked up by the Chinese state media as confirmation of a global trend, when in reality it describes the fall of a single, small office in a country of eleven million people.

Why Papua New Guinea, and why now?

This is where the story begins to get more complicated and more unsettling.
Papua New Guinea has never had formal, stable diplomatic relations with Taiwan — a very brief period of recognition in 1999 lasted only a few days — but since 2015 it has hosted this economic office, one of the very few remaining Taiwanese outposts in the Pacific, alongside the one in Fiji.

A year ago, according to several analysts, Port Moresby had already irritated Beijing by signing the so-called ‘Pukpuk’ Treaty with Australia, a defence agreement that strengthens Papua New Guinea’s strategic ties with Canberra.
The closure of the Taiwanese office would, according to this interpretation, serve as a bargaining chip: a conciliatory gesture towards Beijing to counterbalance the irritation caused by the military rapprochement with Australia.

Oliver Nobetau, director of the Pacific Islands programme at the Lowy Institute in Sydney, stated that the very same international pressure that led to this decision could, in theory, be used in the opposite direction to try to maintain Taiwan’s presence in the country. Internal sources cited by the Taipei Times also suggest that the Papuan government is divided on the issue and is not as united as the official statement would have us believe.

Washington does not mince its words

What makes this story more than just a footnote in Pacific diplomacy is the American reaction.
The State Department said it was “deeply concerned”, describing Taiwan as “a reliable and democratic partner” whose global relations bring “significant benefits” to the countries involved, including Papua New Guinea.
And it used a phrase that rarely leaves room for interpretation: “This is yet another example of Beijing’s campaign of intimidation against Taiwan and its supporters around the world, which undermines the sovereign decisions of countries that choose to cooperate with Taiwan and threatens international peace and prosperity.”

New Zealand has also taken a stance, stating that it is aware of the matter and wishes to examine the details of the decision further.

One fundamental point, therefore, remains from this story. A door closed in Taipei – however small it may be in international terms – is one fewer door closed for a democracy of 23 million people that struggles every day not to disappear from the world’s diplomatic map.
News of this sort concerns us all, in the way that, quietly, the freedom to choose one’s own partners is being eroded country by country, communiqué by communiqué, office by office.