If China decides to dramatically accelerate unification with Taiwan—whether through subversion, quarantine, blockade or full-scale invasion—the first 24 hours will be pivotal. But they will hardly be the end. Taiwan will fight back. Whatever course China takes, it won’t be settling a dispute but creating an on-going crisis in the Indo-Pacific.
These are among the conclusions from ASPI wargaming of the scenarios in June. Two earlier articles in this daily series described the scenarios and the likely warning signs of impending Chinese action. The next will cover the longer-term results that could be expected.
Taiwan would not just collapse, capitulate or hand itself over. While it has been outpaced by the scale of China’s military developments, it is more capable than many assume. From cyber defences and special forces to citizen resilience and political resolve, Taiwan’s initial response capacity would be significant. And it is precisely this preparedness, sharpened by decades of existential threat, that makes any Chinese escalation a high-risk gamble.
Each of China’s four main options to force unification carries a different tempo, level of visibility and escalation risk. But a common thread of Taiwanese response runs through all four: tailored resilience, surprising readiness and firm refusal to surrender.
Subversion
In the subversion scenario, China’s armed forces and intelligence operatives would attempt to disable Taiwan from within—crippling infrastructure, spreading disinformation, activating sleeper cells and launching false-flag attacks. The goal would be to create a pretext for a so-called peacekeeping intervention under the guise of restoring order.
Yet this silent war would not catch Taiwan unaware. In the first 24 hours, its security services would almost certainly move quickly to arrest suspected saboteurs, harden critical sites, such as power stations and data centres, and activate cyber incident response teams. Special operations forces are trained to counter unconventional threats and would be deployed to protect strategic locations. Military units would shift to alert status quietly but decisively and national leaders would take to the airwaves and internet to reassure the public and demonstrate control.
Public resilience in such a scenario is often underestimated. Years of civic mobilisation, digital literacy campaigns and drills have prepared Taiwan’s people to recognise disinformation, report anomalies and trust democratic institutions. Any expectation that chaos would break public morale instantly is wishful thinking in Beijing. The first day of China’s operation to subvert Taiwan would not be easy for the Taiwanese—but the campaign would not be lost.
Quarantine
If Beijing attempts a quarantine—framing a partial blockade as ‘customs enforcement’ or ‘public health protection’—its opening moves would be maritime. China Coast Guard vessels, backed by the armed forces at a distance, would swarm shipping lanes and begin inspecting merchant ships, possibly leading to minor collisions or a manufactured incident to spark a crisis.
Taiwan’s initial reaction would be measured but firm. Mobile anti-ship and air-defence missile batteries would be repositioned, air patrols launched and warships deployed to shadow Chinese vessels. The Taiwanese coast guard would be authorised to intercept or monitor boardings. Taiwan would begin intensive briefings with partners, including the United States, Australia and Japan, presenting evidence of unlawful Chinese interference and requesting public statements of support.
Cyber operations would also intensify in these first hours. Beijing would push aggressive disinformation claiming Taiwanese aggression, while Taiwan’s Ministry of Digital Affairs and civil society organisations would work rapidly to expose fakes and maintain confidence in the government’s response. Importantly, Taiwan would not rise to provocation: it would hold the moral and legal high ground while preparing for escalation. Its ability to both challenge and contain grey-zone coercion without triggering broader conflict is central to its resilience.
Blockade
A full blockade is a far more overt act of war. China’s warships would rapidly move to interdict shipping as it also denied airspace access and possibly jammed satellite communications while severing undersea internet cables. The first 24 hours would be critical: international shipping would steer clear of the Taiwan Strait and airlines would begin avoiding airspace around Taiwan. The world would awaken to the most severe crisis in East Asia since the Korean War.
Taiwan, however, has trained for this. In the opening day, its navy would begin escorting civilian vessels where feasible. Surveillance drones and submarines would monitor Chinese movements. Combat aircraft would be dispersed, and fuel reserves would be rationed. Meanwhile, underground command centres would activate, and civilian infrastructure operators would initiate continuity protocols.
Taiwan’s resilience in this scenario is rooted in distributed defence and planning. Critical nodes—data centres, communications stations, airstrips—are hardened, decentralised or both. Supplies are stocked. And military doctrine has evolved to ensure that even if external trade halts, the government and armed forces can operate independently for weeks. Any Chinese hope that Taiwan would be paralysed within hours of a blockade would not materialise.
Invasion
If China initiated a full-scale invasion, launching missiles and amphibious assaults, the stakes would rise dramatically. But, again, Taiwan would not simply roll over. In the first hour, Taiwan’s air defence systems would be activated to intercept missile salvos. Fighter aircraft would scramble to repel Chinese incursions. Some airfields and military facilities would inevitably be damaged or destroyed, but dispersed basing, hardened shelters, and pre-planned contingencies would enable a continued defence. Naval units would move evasively to avoid destruction while engaging incoming targets with anti-ship missiles. Anti-landing defences—artillery, drones, sea mines—would slow Chinese progress on any beachheads.
Taipei would seek an immediate and coordinated response. Emergency broadcasts would go out. The president would declare full mobilisation. Civil defence protocols would be activated across cities, with shelters open and communication lines kept alive by a resilient mesh network and satellite backup systems. Taiwan’s citizen-soldier structure—based on reservists and local defence brigades—would be mobilising in key districts.
Taiwan will resist
Taiwan’s will to fight is rooted in a deep national identity and a growing understanding that surrender would mean the end of its democracy and way of life. Polls now show a strong majority of Taiwanese are willing to defend their country, particularly in the face of a violent assault. Understanding of Hong Kong’s crushed autonomy has hardened public awareness. There is no illusion about what Chinese rule would mean.
Even if Chinese forces made it ashore, they would meet not submission but resistance. Occupation would be anything but swift. And any claim of ‘liberation’ would be crushed by the reality of a population seeking to defend its way of life.
Taiwan has steadily built a suite of layered defences. This includes hardened infrastructure and networked command systems that allow for distributed resistance. Its digital hygiene and civil society capacity make it resilient in the face of cyber and psychological warfare. Its professional military and substantial reserve force are increasingly trained in asymmetric tactics.
For Beijing, the fantasy that Taiwan would fold in the first 24 hours is unlikely. The reality is likely to be far messier—and far more dangerous for the Chinese Communist Party. None of its four main choices for subjugating Taiwan is likely to end quickly or cleanly. All would be met with resistance.
Taiwan would not want to go quietly. For every scenario, the island has prepared itself to survive the first day and defy the odds—while shaping the outcome of the century’s most dangerous flashpoint.
