On 1 April 2001, a US EP-3 signals aircraft took off from Okinawa, Japan, to conduct a routine surveillance flight over the South China Sea. Aboard the EP-3 were pilot Lieutenant Shane Osborn and 23 crew members.

Meanwhile, Lieutenant Commander Wang Wei was at Lingshui Airfield on Hainan Island, China. At approximately 9 am, Wang and his wingman, Zhao Yu, took off from Hainan in their F-8 interceptors, which are Chinese versions of the old MiG-21 fighter jet. A short time later, the two Chinese fighter jets spotted the US EP-3, which was operating in international airspace off Hainan Island.

Wang initially made two close approaches to the EP-3, attempting to intimidate Osborn and his crew. On his third approach, Wang moved towards the EP-3 at a high speed, bringing his fighter jet to within two metres of the US plane. According to Osborne, Wang was preparing to ‘thump’ the EP-3 by flying in front of his much slower aircraft. But Wang didn’t get the opportunity, because, as he manoeuvred, his jet collided with the US plane.

The collision occurred over the South China Sea approximately 70 miles from Hainan Island. Osborne lost control of his aircraft following the impact, but after several minutes was able to stabilise the plane. However, the EP-3 had suffered significant damage. After considering his options, Osborne issued a mayday call, which went unanswered by the Chinese. With no option but to land uninvited, he turned towards Lingshui Airfield on Hainan Island. The alternative option—to ditch his aircraft in the South China Sea—would have almost certainly led to the deaths of all 24 crew members aboard the EP-3.

Meanwhile, Wang had flown his jet into one of the turboprops of the EP-3, which nearly sliced his fuselage in half. With his fighter breaking apart around him, Wang ejected over the ocean. His body was never found.

In April 2001, US–China relations were at a sensitive juncture. President George Bush was new to the White House, and Sino-US relations were recovering following the accidental bombing of China’s embassy in Belgrade by the US in 1999.

After landing on Hainan Island, the 24 crew members of the EP-3 were detained by the Chinese Government. The government also took possession of the EP-3, stripping it of classified intelligence and equipment that was on board.

The US said that responsibility for the incident fell to China, as it was a Chinese aircraft that caused the crash. The Chinese side, in turn, placed responsibility for the incident on the US. Domestic publics on both sides also put pressure on their governments to respond with strength. The Chinese public, in particular, was outraged by the incident, which had led to the death of the Chinese pilot.

By the afternoon of 1 April, the PRC Ministry of Foreign Affairs had released a formal statement on the incident. In its statement, China noted that US actions had violated international law, misinterpreting UNCLOS by saying that ‘any flight in airspace above another nation’s exclusive economic zone should respect the rights of the country concerned’. China didn’t engage its military hotline with the US, but summoned the US Ambassador in Beijing to make formal representations.

Dealing with his first major crisis, President Bush decided to place Secretary of State Colin Powell, rather than Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld, at the front of the crisis, prioritising diplomacy over military actions. Bush stopped all military reconnaissance activity near China, sending a signal to Beijing that the US wanted to de-escalate the crisis. The primary concern of the US was the release of its crew stuck on Hainan Island. On 2 April, Bush issued a direct appeal to PRC leadership from the White House, requesting US access to the crew. Access was granted the following day.

China also sent quiet and positive signals to the US. China’s embassy in Washington quietly communicated to the Bush administration that, if Beijing could ‘misinterpret’ a US statement as a blanket apology for the entire affair, the crew would be released. That allowed for an artful and face-saving solution, in which the US Ambassador issued the ‘letter of the two sorries’ to the Chinese. In the letter, the US expressed ‘sincere regret’ for the loss of Wang and was ‘very sorry’ that the crippled EP-3 had entered Chinese airspace without verbal clearance.

In 2001, Beijing and Washington prioritised respect and diplomacy to find a path to resolve the crisis in just 11 days. The crew returned home to the US; the EP-3 aircraft was returned, in pieces, several months later.  

Of course, there’s no way of accurately predicting how either nation would respond if the Hainan incident, or something similar, occurred today. However, it’s important to think through potential future scenarios. Such strategic planning helps all sides, and stakeholders, to develop informed, clear and rational responses that promote confidence between countries and helps to better manage escalations when they do occur. Hence, this section explores possible outcomes from a hypothetical air collision involving China and another country over the South China Sea.

The risk of another collision between China’s military and a foreign military plane or ship is high and rising. The parallels between what happened in 2001 and what’s happening today are numerous. For example, there have been a growing number of recent incidents in which Chinese fighter jets have raced up to the wings of foreign miliary planes. Intercepts now involve a broader range of dangerous tactics, such as ‘thumping’ and flare releases, which are designed to intimidate and endanger foreign forces. All of those developments increase the chances of another incident.

Surveillance planes have few defences against the more nimble fighter jets. For example, a modern J-16 fighter jet, which is commonly used by the PLA Air Force in intercepts, is easy to manoeuvre and has a top speed of over 1,500 miles per hour. Matched against the cumbersome fuselage of a surveillance plane, such as an Australian P-8A (which is modelled on the passenger Boeing 737-800 airliner), it’s like comparing a Ferrari to a semitrailer. Pilots of surveillance planes have few if any options to respond to aggressive manoeuvres from Chinese fighter jets.

The immediate aftermath of a collision

A pilot of a damaged aircraft will typically try to land on an airstrip, rather than risking lives by landing a plane on the sea. Across the Spratly Islands there are several airstrips that a pilot could choose from. China owns the three largest, but Taiwan, Malaysia, Vietnam and the Philippines operate smaller airstrips. However, if an incident occurs further north, the pilot will have to land at a Chinese-controlled airstrip in the Paracel Islands or on China’s Hainan Island. The alternative would be to seek safety in a Southeast Asian country, assuming that the aircraft could fly that far. In May 2022, an Australian P-8A was able to limp back to the Philippines after China released chaff into one of its engines.

Immediately following any serious military incident, an information battle would begin. As in 2001, China would quickly release its version of events via government, state media and social media channels, placing fault with the foreign nation. Regardless of the facts, China would be likely to claim that the foreign aircraft was the provocateur, operating in China’s airspace and far from its own shores. The other foreign military engaged in any serious incident would need timely, clear and consistent communications, working in coordination with partner countries, to rebut any disinformation and assert a clear time line of events as they occurred.

Several nations have military hotlines with China, including the US, Japan and several Southeast Asian nations. However, as in 2001, hotlines aren’t likely to be answered in Beijing. The PRC will be likely to prioritise a centralised process in which President Xi meets his key advisers to carefully plan the next steps. Meanwhile, diplomats in both countries will be likely to begin a process of slow and protracted negotiations.

Playing out a crisis

Managing a military crisis will require a delicate balance between fostering accommodation without signalling weakness and achieving resolution without provocation. That was achieved in 2001 by the parties prioritising quiet diplomacy and signalling over strongarm tactics that seek an advantage.

However, US–China relations have deteriorated significantly since 2001. China’s relationships with other nations, such as Australia, Japan and Canada, have also changed dramatically; militaries no longer conduct trust-building exercises or engage in regular and open dialogue. Relationships are now largely defined by competition and suspicion, and there are fewer, if any, stable channels for open and trusted communication at the leadership, diplomatic or military levels.

There’s also great public interest in such incidents, supported by a 24-hour media cycle and a now heavily online global population (things that didn’t exist or weren’t well developed in 2001).

The starting point for any negotiation will be vastly different from 2001, and the chances of miscalculations and misunderstandings have increased. It will be harder for each side to understand signalling and intent. That will be exacerbated by differences in language and ideological beliefs, leading to a deterioration in trust and increasing gaps in understanding each side’s political and military cultures.

Public sentiment will also limit options. According to polling by the Pew Research Center, only 14% of Americans, 11% of Japanese, 12% of Australians and 14% of Canadians have a favourable view of China. Meanwhile, to solidify domestic public support for the Chinese Communist Party (CCP), Xi Jinping has driven nationalism within Chinese society to historic highs. Domestic sentiment, and public reaction to any serious incident, would limit the negotiation space for leaders.

Southeast Asian countries could influence the trajectory of a crisis. However, regional powers will carefully consider the benefits of supporting others against the potential impact on their own bilateral relationship with China. It’s likely that most regional countries will choose to not get involved for several reasons, including because China tends to target countries that do speak up on such issues.

The outcome

A serious military incident could lead to a protracted crisis that could potentially last for months or longer. With public sentiment affecting the acceptability of policy options, the escalation of any crisis is a real possibility. Military posturing is likely to play a more prominent role than it did in 2001. Negative economic consequences, including the use of sanctions, are likely. Countries are also likely to seek to strengthen their position through multilateral organisations, such as the UN, forums like the G20 and minilateral groupings like the Quad.

Regardless of any political posturing, a surveillance plane, and its top-secret technology, will be exploited by any nation. For the PRC, the presence of a foreign crew would also provide significant leverage. Beijing will ask for significant concessions from any countries to secure the crew’s safe release. That would probably involve a full and unreserved apology. The PRC could also seek accommodations in other areas, such as diplomatic concessions that bolster China’s regional claims and strategic ambitions.

The image of an Australian P-8A plane, limping back to the Philippines with its engine damaged by Chinese chaff in May 2022, provides a real-world example of how close we’ve come to another Hainan incident.

If an incident occurs today, governments will need to carefully manage escalation and brinkmanship, so it’s important to consider the role that signalling will play. President George W Bush’s military and diplomatic signalling was the key to reassuring Beijing in 2001. Although global dynamics are now very different, the actions of the US and China in 2001 provide important lessons for how to manage a crisis today.

In 2001, US military superiority over the PRC wasn’t in doubt, and Washington could afford a placatory approach. Today, however, governments will need to prioritise policy options that offer viable off-ramps and face-saving measures. The ‘letter of the two sorries’ was a clever diplomatic formulation that provided a face-saving compromise for both parties. Providing time and space for diplomatic negotiations will be important to understand possible policy options. With trust between China and other countries in decline, it’s vital to reinvest in more regular dialogue now at the leader, diplomatic, military, Track 1.5 (government and non-government), academic and informal levels. Dialogue doesn’t always need to be substantive. Regular discussions help to build familiarity and provide valuable people-to-people connections that can be used in a crisis.