On February 24, in its 11th and 12th announcements of 2026, the Chinese Ministry of Commerce (MOFCOM) announced sanctions on 40 Japanese firms. Ostensibly to protect national security by withholding key materials from firms that “participate in the enhancement of Japanese military power” (参与提升日本军事实力) and scrutinizing those with “unverifiable end users or end uses of dual-use items” (无法核实两用物项最终用户、最终用途), the impact of the measures is the disruption of Japan’s tech trade. Where one may have expected reciprocal sanctions or other punitive measures, Quad and G7 leaders instead responded by issuing statements expressing concern.
This is one instance in a broader pattern of Western responses: when China applies pressure, Washington responds with rhetorical condemnation and allied integration, rather than a directly retaliatory response. From the 2021 launch of AUKUS Pillar II to 2022’s G7 Partnership for Global Infrastructure and Investment (PGII) to the Quad Critical Minerals Initiative (CMI) of 2025, the consistent response to Chinese coercion has been tolerance and defensive coordination. Pundits have extensively examined the reasons behind and implications for Beijing’s increasingly robust coercion regime. A more interesting question is less explored: why does a coordinated Western response consistently fail to emerge?
The CoCom Baseline
The Coordinating Committee for Multilateral Export Controls (CoCom) was established by the United States and allies in 1949 with the primary aim of restricting the flow of strategic goods and technologies to the Soviet Union. Consensus holds that despite Soviet military expansion, the 17-member “gentlemen’s agreement” contributed meaningfully to preserving the U.S. lead in advanced technology. CoCom’s success is most accurately traced not to the regime’s design, but rather to the three external conditions that propped it up.
The first of these conditions was a shared perception between CoCom members that the Soviet Union was the primary threat to their shared interests. Adherence to this perception was a prerequisite of taking part in the regime. The second condition was the extensive economic leverage possessed by the United States: nearly 40% of global GDP in 1960, the dollar at nearly 80% of global currency reserves in 1970, and the U.S. as top trade partner to nearly 150 countries by 1980. This dominance made allied compliance with CoCom worth the cost of trade stagnation with the USSR. The third condition was U.S. control over key chokepoints, particularly advanced technology. The 1960s New Look and the 1970s Second Offset provided the innovative foundation for an unparalleled hold on critical technology, which Washington could use to meaningfully restrict its dissemination.
Just as these conditions provided the foundation for CoCom’s success, their degradation would see its downfall. The 1996 Wassenaar Arrangement inherited some of CoCom’s structure but none of its load-bearing external conditions, and has therefore been demonstrably weaker.
The Contemporary Conundrum
CoCom stands as a compelling example of what it looks like when multilateral sanctions work; Wassenaar has shown what happens when they don’t. Thirty years after the Wassenaar Arrangement’s implementation, its limits are as clear as they’ve ever been. Wassenaar’s structural insufficiencies are noteworthy: despite its 42 member states, its lack of binding rules and meaningful restrictive measures undermines its efficacy. Structure is informed by environment—just as CoCom’s strength came from the pre-existing pillars mentioned earlier, Wassenaar’s shortcomings can be traced to their absence.
First, the shared threat perception that was present during the Cold War is actively fragmenting. The U.S., Japan, and Australia tend to see eye-to-eye on Beijing’s coercive intent. Other countries, however, diverge significantly: ASEAN states increasingly hedge—with export-dependent economies, Thailand, Malaysia, and Vietnam are pressured by both export controls and dependence on Chinese investment through the Belt and Road Initiative (BRI). Europe, traditionally the closest American ally, hedges in light of Washington’s volatility; Germany and France, specifically, have significant economic interests in China. Latin American and African countries increasingly make space for a Chinese foothold due to the “unconditionality” of its lending practices. Where collective action was a central theme of the Cold War and CoCom specifically, Beijing’s one-by-one coercive action and positive incentives prevent threat perception from unifying.
Second, Washington’s economic leverage has markedly degraded since the CoCom era: U.S. percentage of global GDP has fallen from 40% to under 26%; the dollar has been reduced from 80% of global reserves to 57%; and 145 countries now trade more with China than they do with the United States. Where Cold War-era economic strength enabled incentive-driven coalition-building, today’s American administration placed tariffs on the entire world. Beijing catches countries between the magnetic pull of BRI lending and the sharp check of Chinese export controls, and Washington’s tariffs are an extra push that hastens their slide into China’s orbit. Today, as under CoCom, the U.S. asks partners to bear economic pain to restrict anti-Western interests. CoCom promised economic benefits to offset that cost. Today, not only is Washington limited on the strength to provide those benefits, it has shown that it would rather force a one-time deal than meaningfully cooperate anyway.
Third, the chokepoints that gave Washington significant control over trade during the Cold War are split and partially inverted. The unmatched hold over advanced technology has devolved to a strong hold over semiconductors, while other key technologies have been divided among other actors—and most of them, up and down the technology and pharmaceutical supply chains, have been consolidated by China. CoCom’s unidirectionality has been replaced by a mutual stranglehold; as Alvin Camba put it, a “burn and choke” regime where Washington constricts the future of Chinese tech while Beijing sears the immediate supply of its present. Contemporarily, a coordination regime that seeks to apply a chokehold will only be returned in kind.
The Beijing Variable
Interpreting the shift from CoCom to today as purely structural overlooks the most important element: China’s agency. Beijing has tracked, perpetuated, and maximized its interests within this new environment. During the Cold War, limited information access meant that the Soviet Union was restricted in its ability to read and find CoCom’s weaknesses. In contrast, Beijing has demonstrably assessed the threshold below which it can apply coercive leverage without incurring a proportionate response, and actively toes the line. China’s strategic architecture is structurally designed to challenge a unified threat perception, consolidate leverage away from the West, and cultivate its own chokeholds. In other words, coordination failure is being actively produced by the adversary that coordination is meant to counter.
Closing
Washington watched while Beijing battered Japan’s tech trade in February. A coherent Western response to actions like these has consistently failed to emerge because the structural conditions that undergirded past operations no longer exist—this is the gap that Beijing exploits. Trying to build an architecture that responds adequately to China’s sanctions in the absence of those conditions is putting the roof on before the walls. Cultivating those enabling conditions is a longer and harder project than any multilateral pledge; coherent threat framing, consistent commitment to allies, and a nuanced chokehold strategy aren’t built overnight. The next coordination failure is already in motion, but understanding the cause behind it is the first step in the effort to eventually do better.
Edited by Ari Fahimi