When pandas leave, pay attention: Rift in Japan-China relations
"For decades, China has practiced what is often dismissed as 'panda diplomacy,' as if the animals were cultural curiosities. In fact, pandas are state assets." (Illustration by Mehmet Mücahit Yılmaz)

Beijing’s panda recall from Tokyo is a soft-power signal with hard implications, revealing how Taiwan, elections and defense budgets are pushing the ties



The recent departure of "Xiao Xiao" and "Lei Lei" from Tokyo’s Ueno Zoo was treated as a sentimental moment. In geopolitical terms, it looked more like a recall of an ambassador.

Chinese officials appear to interpret Prime Minister Sanae Takaichi’s recent remarks about potential intervention in Taiwan not as rhetorical excess, but as a challenge to sovereignty. Because Japan ruled Taiwan for half a century, Beijing is acutely sensitive to Japanese military language. Trade disputes are business. Taiwan is existential in that regard. The line that strained the relations was "survival-threatening situation” ("sonritsu kiki jitai"). Within Japan’s security framework, that phrasing is not just descriptive; it represents the legal threshold that can justify Japan’s exercise of collective self-defense and deeper operational cooperation with the United States. In other words, Beijing hears a doctrinal signal: Tokyo is preparing a lawful pathway to align with Washington in a Strait crisis when escalation reaches a certain point.

Against that backdrop, the failure to renew Japan’s panda leases looks deliberate rather than bureaucratic. The symbolism is hard to miss: access to China’s national treasures is incompatible with questioning what China regards as its national territory.

To understand why, it helps to know what pandas actually are in Chinese statecraft.

Pandas as diplomatic barometer

For decades, China has practiced what is often dismissed as "panda diplomacy,” as if the animals were cultural curiosities. In fact, pandas are state assets. China is the world’s only source of giant pandas, and since the 1980s, it has stopped giving them away and instead leases them, typically for about $1 million a year per pair. Ownership never transfers. Cubs born abroad belong to China. When leases are renewed, relations are stable. When they are not, the pandas go home.

The strategy works because of where pandas live. Zoos are apolitical spaces: places of education, leisure and family ritual. By embedding national symbols far from ministries and summits, China shapes foreign public sentiment without appearing coercive.

There is also a psychological dimension. Pandas generate a halo effect. It’s hard to see a country as a looming threat when kids are hugging plush toys modeled after its national treasure. For years, pandas have softened China’s image abroad at remarkably low cost.

Receiving pandas also confers status. It signals approval. When China sent pandas to Scotland in 2011, the move coincided with several billion dollars’ worth of trade agreements, including salmon exports and renewable energy projects. On the other side, China has recently renewed panda loans to the United States following talks that eased certain export controls. Panda diplomacy rewards cooperation and trade friction, in Beijing’s view, is manageable. Rivals can still be partners.

But Japan, in Beijing’s reading, is no longer a rival to manage, but a contingency actor. But the withdrawal of pandas sends an even clearer message.

Historically, the withdrawal of Chinese soft power has preceded, not followed, harder forms of pressure. Panda diplomacy does not resolve disputes; it marks the point at which persuasion has run its course.

The consequences are already visible. Economists estimate that the absence of pandas will cost the Ueno Zoo area roughly $128m a year in lost tourism and merchandise. The panda recall is the soft-power face of a wider recalibration. More consequentially, the diplomatic chill has coincided with tighter Chinese export controls on hundreds of dual-use items and rare-earth materials. Japanese firms, long embedded in Chinese supply chains, are accelerating investment shifts toward Vietnam and India.

China remains Japan’s largest trading partner. But the relationship is being recalibrated under far less forgiving assumptions.

Beijing’s rhetoric has sharpened accordingly. State media have accused Takaichi of "colonial thinking” and warned that she is gambling with Japan’s future by drawing the U.S. deeper into regional security arrangements. Tokyo’s response has been less verbal and more budgetary. On one hand, Beijing is signaling resolve. On the other hand, Tokyo is institutionalizing deterrence.

Pacifism to deterrence

The snap election held on Feb. 8 confirmed this shift with startling clarity. The Liberal Democratic Party, having guaranteed a supermajority with its new ally Japan Innovation Party, will continue loosening the postwar legal and political constraints that have shaped Japan’s security posture since 1945. By securing over two-thirds of the House, Takaichi can now pass the $58 billion 2026 defense budget, accelerating spending to 2% of GDP two years ahead of schedule – a move Beijing has denounced as radical re-militarization. One priority is a "shield” of unmanned air, surface and underwater systems intended to create a digital perimeter around islands such as Okinawa and Ishigaki, barely 110 kilometers (under 69 miles) from Taiwan. The panda exit was only the beginning. The Japanese public has now validated ”the Takaichi Shift” that China saw.

The repercussions from Washington and New Delhi, the capitals that see Japan as a pillar of Indo-Pacific balance, were immediate, hailing the resounding mandate. On the other hand, Beijing broke its silence by saying one election result will not change its foreign policy toward Japan while urging Tokyo to retract its comments on Taiwan and return to what it called a path of peaceful development. The Global Times, a Chinese Communist Party-affiliated outlet, published expert commentary framing the election result as a new challenge to bilateral ties, signaling that escalation is already entering official-adjacent discourse.

The empty enclosures at Ueno Zoo will soon fade from the headlines. Children will stop asking where the pandas went. Souvenir stalls will sell something else eventually. But the departure of the gentle giant has left a vacuum filled by the hard math of national survival.

In the high-stakes game of East Asian statecraft, the pandas weren't just guests; they were a buffer and a signal of good-neighborly relations. Now that they are gone, Japan and China are finally looking at each other without the mask of sentimentality, and for the first time in decades, both are measuring each other in terms of risk, capability and resolve. What replaces panda diplomacy is deterrence, made visible in law, budgets and force posture.