The CCP’s Legal Warfare Against Taiwan’s Democracy

Published by The Lawfare Institute
in Cooperation With
Editor’s Note: The China-Taiwan conflict involves more than military threats and economic coercion. Beijing is also engaged in espionage, bribery, and other forms of covert warfare that attempt to weaken Taiwan’s resilience. Judge KaiChieh Hsu, who is now a visiting fellow at the Global Taiwan Institute, details China’s efforts and proposes several legal changes that could help Taipei better resist Beijing’s efforts.
Daniel Byman
***
In today’s contested Indo-Pacific, Taiwan is not only on the frontline of military deterrence; it is also the primary laboratory for the Chinese Communist Party’s (CCP’s) evolving legal warfare. The CCP’s strategy, built not on missiles but on statutes, aims to hollow out Taiwan’s legal, institutional, and societal defenses from within. This new front, less visible but equally dangerous, combines internal subversion with externally crafted laws to reshape regional norms and erode Taiwan’s sovereignty without firing a shot.
This campaign of legal warfare has been a core component of the CCP’s strategic thinking for more than two decades. Since its emergence in the 1999 military doctrine of “Unrestricted Warfare,” the concept has expanded to incorporate public opinion warfare and psychological warfare to encompass a full-fledged legal architecture. Its goal: to legitimize the CCP’s actions, delegitimize its adversaries, and manipulate international and domestic legal frameworks to its advantage.
As a sitting judge who has presided over national security cases in Taiwan, I have witnessed firsthand how legal ambiguity and institutional fragmentation can obstruct timely, effective responses to infiltration. National security law is inherently political, and while judicial independence must be upheld, judges also carry the responsibility to defend the state when authoritarian regimes exploit democratic mechanisms to undermine democracy. In such contexts, judicial rulings are no less critical than intelligence operations.
The CCP’s Lawfare Toolbox
Since the early 2000s, the CCP has enacted a series of domestic laws that lay the legal groundwork for the People’s Republic of China’s (PRC’s) multiprong campaign to expand its influence in the Indo-Pacific region. This legislation has legitimated the CCP’s strategic objectives and the policies it is implementing to achieve them—particularly toward Taiwan.
Among the first of these laws were the 2003 Political Work Regulations. These regulations formally incorporated the “Three Warfares” doctrine—public opinion, psychological, and legal warfare—into the People’s Liberation Army’s (PLA’s) strategic planning. Over time, the Three Warfares concept has served as a guide for observers to help understand Beijing’s influence operations and explain Chinese hybrid warfare.
Then, in 2005, the CCP adopted the Anti-Secession Law. This law provided the CCP with a legal rationale for using force against Taiwan. Article 8 asserts that if “peaceful unification” becomes impossible, the CCP has the right to use “non-peaceful means”—a definition left entirely to CCP discretion. This codified the threat of military force as a standing legal position to deter Taiwan.
The 2015 National Security Law significantly broadened the CCP’s definition of national security to include ideological and cyberspace domains. It also introduced a national digital ID system, mandating real-name registration for all users of Chinese internet platforms, even outside of China—thereby extending the PRC’s control over cross-border data and enabling legal action against foreign actors.
The PRC’s 2021 Maritime Traffic Safety Law expanded the PRC’s jurisdictional claims to include disputed waters such as the Taiwan Strait, the Diaoyutai (Senkaku) Islands, and artificial islands in the South China Sea. It forms part of a broader domestic legal regime asserting sovereignty over contested maritime regions and laid the groundwork for future jurisdictional confrontations.
More recently, the CCP has interfered even more directly in Taiwanese politics. The 2023 Counter-Espionage Law and 2024 Anti-Taiwan Independence Provisions criminalized actions by the Taiwanese government and civil society under the pretext of “national unity.” Provisions include sanctions barring entry into mainland China, Hong Kong, and Macau; bans on cooperation with PRC entities; and the application of “splittism” charges against so-called die-hard Taiwan independence elements.
These laws have provided the CCP domestic legitimacy for future military or economic actions and, internationally, at least a pretext that the PRC is a law-abiding power rather than a coercive aggressor.
Penetrating Taiwan From Within: Four Legal Infiltration Tactics
These legal frameworks are not merely symbolic; they enable and legitimize deeper and broader infiltration into Taiwanese society, ultimately making the goal of unification more attainable. Unlike the intelligence-focused intrusions of previous decades—aimed primarily at acquiring high-value national or military secrets—the CCP has now adopted a carpet-bombing style of infiltration. This approach involves collecting even seemingly insignificant information as part of a systematic effort to fuse the legal framework with the Three Warfares doctrine, thereby strengthening the CCP’s capacity to weaken Taiwan from within and gradually assert control over its democratic institutions.
First, the PRC’s broad approach to cultivating influence and intelligence sources has targeted a wide range of organizations. In particular, the CCP has mobilized civic and religious groups in Taiwan for influence operations. This includes using alumni associations to target military personnel, academic groups to sway scholars, and local temples to co-opt underworld actors. Notably, some military officers have been offered financial incentives in exchange for promises of inaction during wartime or even pro-Beijing declarations.
These examples illustrate how hostile actors exploit legal ambiguities and regulatory gaps to infiltrate Taiwan’s civil society. Individuals or organizations may operate under the protections afforded by Taiwan’s democratic freedoms while secretly receiving funding or directives from CCP-linked entities. Through the dissemination of propaganda and ideology, they aim to deepen societal divisions and erode trust in democratic institutions. Although such conduct may constitute criminal offenses under Taiwan’s Anti-Infiltration Act or National Security Act, prosecutions often face substantial hurdles. Funding from the CCP is frequently funneled through intermediary civic organizations, making it difficult to trace. Moreover, Taiwan lacks a foreign agent registration law or rigorous disclosure requirements for political donations and cross-strait exchanges, creating enforcement blind spots. Prosecutors must meet a high evidentiary threshold to prove that the accused had direct ties to the CCP, which has resulted in several high-profile cases ending in acquittals despite clear indications of foreign interference.
Second, the CCP’s human intelligence tactics are also increasingly subtle. Fronts such as pawnshops and florists near military bases are used to gather personal and operational data. In one documented tactic, service members were offered loans or promotion gifts in exchange for seemingly low-value information, with higher-level secrets solicited only after initial compliance. In rare cases, sensitive information, such as F-16 combat tactics, has been compromised—leading to stiff prison sentences for the leaker. Once individuals have crossed an initial legal line, they become vulnerable to coercion and blackmail, enabling the CCP to secure a more stable channel of intelligence over time.
These tactics rely on incremental moral erosion and legal ambiguity. Still, most leaked information is not high value, making early detection and deterrence difficult. Taiwan’s current approach to security tends to be reactive—often addressing espionage only after infiltration has occurred. In practice, some senior officials rely on politically appointed advisers who fall outside formal personnel structures and may not undergo rigorous internal vetting. Similarly, many government agencies lack robust protocols for operational security and counterintelligence awareness. These institutional blind spots can allow covert influence efforts to remain undetected until significant damage has been done.
Third, the CCP is also targeting Taiwan’s advanced technology private sector, combining investment penetration (“push-in”) with tech exfiltration (“pull-out”). In the former, Chinese capital enters Taiwan under disguised ownership—for example, through companies registered in Singapore or Australia; in the latter, economic espionage targets core technologies in the semiconductor industry. For instance, a Chinese commercial spy, operating out of a Starbucks in Taiwan, managed to steal gallium arsenide technology worth NT$7.5 billion from a leading Taiwanese manufacturer—all for just NT$4 million. Taiwan’s regulatory system struggles to track hidden Chinese ownership, and judicial definitions of “related parties” often place undue burden on prosecutors.
Recent legal reforms are attempting to fix this. Taiwan’s 2023 National Security Law amendment, modeled partly on U.S. Bureau of Industry and Security controls, lists core national technologies as protected assets. However, judges often lack technical expertise, resulting in weak enforcement. In one case, an engineer who leaked information about dynamic random access memory processes used in cutting-edge semiconductors received only 22 months in prison—a sentence similar to those handed down in routine fraud or theft cases.
Finally, the CCP also intervenes in Taiwan’s democratic processes. Methods range from subsidizing return flights for pro-Beijing voters living in the PRC to offering free tours of the PRC for community leaders. One village chief who returned from a free CCP-funded trip was recorded instructing residents not to vote for the incumbent president of Taiwan, Lai Ching-te. He was later sentenced to four years in prison.
If a village chief who has been invited to China for a free trip instead uses vague language to encourage the voters—for example, by saying, “Please vote for the party that supports peace” implying support for voting for pro-Beijing parties or those advocating for a peace agreement with China—this will not be penalized under the Anti-Infiltration Act, as the phrasing does not specify a particular political party. Yet it can still serve the purpose of influencing Taiwan’s elections by organizing trips for Taiwanese voters to visit China. Without legislation to provide transparency about or prohibit this type of external intervention, Taiwan remains vulnerable to election interference cloaked in soft messaging. These vulnerabilities mirror similar concerns in the United States and Europe regarding covert influence in open electoral systems.
Mutual Learning Opportunities for Taiwan and the United States
Taiwan’s experience as the frontline of legal warfare presents lessons not only for its own institutions but also for democracies worldwide. And as a democracy dealing with foreign interference, Taiwan can draw on the example of other countries also trying to adapt to the changing strategies of authoritarian regimes. To increase transparency and deter covert interference, Taiwan should consider adopting elements of U.S. laws, such as the Foreign Agents Registration Act (FARA), which requires individuals acting on behalf of foreign principals to disclose their activities or face criminal penalties. Such legislation would help close regulatory gaps exploited by proxies, including in the Legislative Yuan, civil society, religious institutions, and media.
Taiwan’s 2023 amendment to the National Security Law, which designates core technologies as protected assets, is legal progress. But inconsistent enforcement reveals a deeper issue: Many judges lack the technical literacy needed to evaluate cases involving semiconductor processes, source code, or artificial intelligence (AI). Embedding technical advisers, as in U.S. trade secret litigation, would improve evidence interpretation and ensure that sentencing better reflects national security risks.
In addition, Taiwan continues to face covert CCP influence in local campaigns, but Taiwan has yet to establish digital campaign transparency laws akin to the Honest Ads Act proposed in the United States, leaving it vulnerable to narrative infiltration under the cover of soft messaging. Addressing these gaps would not only enhance electoral integrity in Taiwan but also inform other democracies confronting similar challenges in the digital age.
At the same time, the United States and other democratic allies can draw meaningful lessons from Taiwan’s evolving legal responses. Taiwan shows how democracies can not only defend against CCP infiltration but also adapt to it while preserving their core values. Its experience reveals how legal ambiguity enables covert influence among lower-level personnel—where even low-value leaks can pave the way for deeper breaches. Taiwan is a legal and counterintelligence battlefield even during peacetime, and in this respect it offers a model for other states confronting legal warfare threats.
As democracies face increasingly sophisticated legal manipulation by authoritarian regimes, cross-national learning becomes essential. Taiwan offers not just a warning, but a preview of how the next generation of legal warfare may unfold, and how democratic institutions can adapt without compromising the rule of law.
Developing a Legal Defense Doctrine
Taiwan is not merely a passive target of foreign interference; it is a testing ground for how democracies can respond to authoritarian legal warfare. Recent reforms, such as five amendments to its national security laws and the establishment of national security courts in 2024, mark important progress. But a comprehensive legal defense doctrine must go further. Some government agencies in Taiwan are not even aware of the existence of the new national security court system.
To strengthen resilience, Taiwan should, first, enact foreign influence transparency legislation. This could be modeled on the U.S. FARA and proposed Honest Ads Act and require agents of foreign powers to disclose activities and funding. This would work to close gaps exploited by foreign proxies in civic, media, religious, and even legislative sectors.
Second, Taiwan should form a legal warfare coordination task force. Bridging intelligence, prosecution, and judicial authorities would ensure quicker, more consistent responses to covert interference—especially given Taiwan’s challenges in proving direct CCP links under current evidentiary standards.
Third, it should introduce technical advisers in national security trials. Judges often lack the expertise to interpret sensitive technologies like semiconductor processes or AI. As in U.S. trade secret litigation, court-appointed experts could improve legal accuracy and sentencing proportionality.
Finally, Taiwan should expand its cooperation on legal warfare issues with its democratic allies. Taiwan’s institutional innovations—such as national security courts—offer valuable insights for U.S. and allied partners confronting similar threats. Joint legal training and experience-sharing could align standards and strengthen collective defense against legal gray-zone tactics.
Democracy Must Learn to Fight
Legal warfare is not peripheral to traditional conflict. In Taiwan’s case, it is the battlefield itself. The CCP has shown that democracy can be subverted through its own openness and that authoritarian regimes can exploit the rule of law to undermine it.
Taiwan, once burdened by the abuses of the intelligence agencies and judiciary under authoritarian rule, transitioned after democratization to a model of institutional separation between intelligence, investigation, and adjudication. Yet in the face of today’s asymmetric threats, it may be time to rethink that divide—moving toward a model of intelligence-judicial cooperation rather than rigid partition. Drawing on the experience of the United States, where mechanisms such as the Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Court and intelligence oversight committees enable coordination while safeguarding civil liberties, Taiwan can explore frameworks that balance security and judicial independence.
Taiwan must evolve from “national security as exception” to “national security as structure.” This requires not only better laws but also a new mindset: that the war has already begun, and that law is both a weapon and a shield. For Taiwan—and its democratic allies—learning to fight in the legal domain is no longer optional; it is existential. The U.S. experience in defending democracy through legal resilience, rule-of-law countermeasures, and institutionalized oversight offers a valuable reference for democratic societies facing authoritarian lawfare.