China’s Gray-Zone Infrastructure Strategy on the Tibetan Plateau: Roads, Dams, and Digital Domination

In the future . . .

• China’s use of critical infrastructure to control downstream water supply will threaten vital economic activities and life.
• China’s People’s Liberation Army (PLA) will leverage rail and road networks to strengthen its positions near the Line of Actual Control (LAC) with India. China’s military-civilian dual-use infrastructure will continue to encroach on disputed lands while posturing the country’s forces to project coercive power and gain an advantage in the next border clash.
• Regional states will no longer harbor Tibetan refugee camps, while also adopting increasingly authoritarian practices made possible by surveillance systems exported by China.
   

Introduction

The People’s Republic of China (PRC) is actively using diplomatic, intelligence, military, and economic tools to influence, deter, and compel countries to act in the PRC’s interest. These tools are derived from a combination of the hybrid strategy and gray-zone tactics that have defined Xi Jinping’s China. The tactics cover operations ranging from corporate cyber theft to international development infrastructure projects.1 But while U.S. policymakers’ attention is fixed on great power competition, the PRC is also active in periphery zones and even within their own territory. In fact, the infrastructure the PRC seeks to export through Belt and Road Initiative (BRI) development projects emerged from efforts within China’s frontier.²

China is fundamentally redefining infrastructure as a tool of coercion. Under the guise of economic development and increasing connectivity, the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) is constructing a coercive architecture across the Tibetan Plateau. This includes dams that can choke water flow to downstream states, railways that enable rapid military mobilization, and digital networks that are already exporting surveillance and repressing dissent. These projects are not neutral investments. They are latent instruments of state power—dual-use nodes that allow Beijing to pressure neighbors without triggering open conflict. As infrastructure becomes a strategic enabler of compellence and deterrence, the United States and its partners must reframe how they assess and respond to China’s actions. Failing to do so will leave the region vulnerable to incremental gains that add up to irreversible strategic shifts.

This report identifies four key sectors where PRC infrastructure development is creating coercive leverage. First—and most alarming—is water. China’s upstream control of Asia’s major rivers—accomplished through the construction of dams—allows it to manipulate downstream economies and ecosystems, giving it a potent geopolitical bargaining chip. Second, the CCP is using land development and gray-zone tactics to de facto annex disputed territory and deploy military assets under the pretext of civilian activity. Third, transportation and rail projects are enabling rapid troop movements, especially near the LAC with India, shifting the military balance in Beijing’s favor. Finally, digital infrastructure projects—particularly through firms like Huawei—are extending China’s surveillance state into neighboring countries, particularly targeting refugee populations and dissidents in Nepal.

To build resilience against the PRC’s coercive infrastructure, this report recommends a three-pronged approach centered on capacity-building with regional partners, increased digital sovereignty, and expanded intelligence cooperation. First, the United States should strengthen India-Nepal cooperation through economic and infrastructure partnerships that reduce both countries’ dependency on Chinese projects. This includes leveraging institutions like the International Development Finance Corporation (DFC), U.S. Trade and Development Agency (USTDA), and the Millennium Challenge Corporation (MCC) to offer alternatives to BRI investments. Second, the United States must support the creation of secure digital ecosystems by promoting cybersecurity standards and countering digital authoritarianism, particularly in regions where Chinese firms like Huawei have entrenched themselves. Finally, expanding intelligence-sharing agreements modeled on the U.S.-India Basic Exchange and Cooperation Agreement (BECA) pact can enhance early warning systems and regional deterrence against PLA activity. Together, these efforts aim to push back against Beijing’s coercive strategy by reinforcing the sovereignty, security, and resilience of states along the Tibetan Plateau.
 

From Public Good to a Trap: Critical Infrastructure as a Form of Coercion 

Power and politics are old bedfellows, and states will historically use anything and everything possible to advance their interests. This process usually plays out first through threats and indirect measures aimed at gaining bargaining advantages but short of open hostility and war. Thomas Schelling described such coercive measures as the “latent diplomacy of violence,” used to either deter an opponent from taking an action or to compel them to change their behavior.³ Understanding that this “power to hurt” is a type of influence provides the foundation for analyzing statecraft in terms of a bargaining process played out by rivals seeking to avoid the costly gamble of direct conflict.⁴

At the core of this process is a risk-reward trade-off. States have imperfect information about their rivals’ power, interests, and issue salience (e.g., how far they will go to change or defend the status quo).⁵ As a result, leaders seek ways of “advancing without attacking” and creating conditions that change the risk-reward trade-off.⁶

Increasingly, these coercive bargains have begun to extend far beyond military signaling and diplomatic démarches to include new means of gaining leverage, often taking advantage of the complex infrastructure that connects people—cyberspace and the internet. Coercion short of a war is a key feature of cyberspace.⁷ States avoid costly signals like deploying entire military formations by taking covert cyber actions, often just deniable enough to avoid significant retribution, as a new form of signaling and communication.⁸ In other words, leaders hijack the technological infrastructure that connects information-age societies to coerce their rivals.

This logic extends beyond cyberspace. In a world of complex interdependence, key infrastructure systems—such as financial systems, transportation networks, digital platforms, energy grids, and water resources—can be “weaponized” to gain strategic advantage.⁹ By exploiting others’ reliance on these systems, a state can exert pressure without firing a shot, effectively turning connectivity into political leverage. States in dominant network positions can deny rivals access to essential networks or supply chains—for instance, by cutting off crucial digital services or choking a trade route—thereby coercing concessions.¹⁰ This weaponized interdependence enables coercion through disruption: The mere threat of severing an adversary’s lifelines (financial networks, communication links, transport corridors) becomes a potent bargaining chip.

In a similar vein, states have learned to use infrastructure-based dependencies in classic deterrence and compellence scenarios. Control over water is a notable example. Upstream countries can threaten to dam, divert, or release water in ways that harm downstream nations’ livelihoods, thereby leveraging hydrological interdependence for political gain. Such “coercive water diplomacy” gives the controlling state outsized influence.¹¹ The coercive value of infrastructure lies in its dual-use nature: Projects presented as benign development or connectivity can also serve to restrain and compel. Transportation infrastructure, for instance, can not only facilitate economic integration but also enable blockades or rapid military mobilization in a crisis, tilting the local balance of power. Digital infrastructure and surveillance systems can both foster interconnectivity and provide means to monitor or black out an adversary’s communications.

In practice, major powers have long incorporated infrastructure into their coercive tool kit. China’s strategic investments in roads, railways, ports, and dams across Asia exemplify this approach. By building economic linkages and physical control over critical nodes, Beijing not only boosts regional development but also gains latent coercive leverage (e.g., the ability to restrict trade flows or water supply to neighbors if they defy Chinese interests). In Tibet and other border regions, such infrastructure serves a dual role: promoting Beijing’s governance while implicitly threatening to “turn off the tap” or isolate adversaries.¹² Thus, critical infrastructure has become a new form of power in coercion theory; much like armies or missiles, rail lines, fiber-optic cables, and dams can function as instruments of compellence and deterrence. In sum, the evolving literature on coercion highlights not only military might but also economic and infrastructural dominance as key sources of bargaining power between states. By understanding coercion in these terms—as a spectrum of influence from nuclear brinkmanship to the politicization of pipelines and waterways—analysts lay a foundation for examining cases where development and coercion go hand in hand as tools of statecraft, such as China’s infrastructure strategy on the Tibetan Plateau and its periphery.
 

The Western Development Plan

The PRC grounded its domestic infrastructure development projects in a strategy updated in the 1990s known as the Western Development Program (WDP), which focused on addressing economic, ecological, and security concerns within China’s territory.¹³ Under the auspices of economic development, China aimed to control, influence, and suppress the people in its western territories, including Xinjiang and Tibet.

From the beginning, the PRC’s intent was to reduce separatist sentiments and non-party approved ideologies, religion, and culture by coercion and, at times, force within the western regions. In 2025, the PRC’s surveillance state in Xinjiang, as well as its persecution and forced labor of Uyghurs in the region, is well known.¹⁴ Yet it is the Tibetan Plateau—a region also covered by the WDP—that presents an opportunity to study the implications of PRC infrastructure development as a tool for coercion and hybrid strategy application. This is because Tibet represents a security concern for the CCP. In the mid-twentieth century, Tibet’s autonomous governing body, spiritual and non-communist beliefs, natural resources, and border with India made its conquest—whether by diplomatic or military means—required for the CCP to establish sovereignty in what it saw as its territory.¹⁵ Put into action following the foundation of the CCP: The PLA invaded eastern Tibet in 1950, and by 1951, it had coerced the spiritual and political leader of Tibetans, the Dalai Lama, into negotiations. The negotiations rejected demands for autonomy and Western democratic norms (but without Tibetan military capability), and resulted in the signing of the “Seventeen Point Agreement” and China’s annexation of the region.¹⁶ However, the agreement was reneged on and, in alignment with Mao Zedong’s Cultural Revolution, all religious activities were prohibited, while limited “cultural liberation” was pursued.¹⁷ Infrastructure development was intended to compensate for the loss of autonomy and offset the erasure of Tibetan culture by China.

From its inception, the WDP sought to bind the Tibetan Plateau to Beijing through a multipronged infrastructure strategy. The Chinese political elite believed that through economic development, the Tibetans would enjoy the merits of the CCP’s leadership and, consequently, then abandon nationalist sentiments and any desire for autonomy. As such, Chinese strategy encompassed transportation networks, civil infrastructure, water resource control, and, more recently, digital surveillance systems.¹⁸ Key projects such as the construction of railways, including the Qinghai-Tibet Railway, and road networks have not only facilitated military mobility but have also served to consolidate economic and political control over the region.¹⁹ These initiatives, while framed as tools for economic development, in fact were aimed at integrating Tibetans into the Chinese state, sidelining the latter’s historic call for “one country, two systems.”²⁰ Water infrastructure plays a similarly critical role in this strategy. The Tibetan Plateau, often referred to as the “water tower of Asia,” is a vital source of freshwater for neighboring countries.²¹ By controlling upstream resources in the plateau, the CCP exerts leverage over downstream nations in the Mekong region, aligning infrastructure development with geopolitical objectives. At the same time, digital infrastructure, including surveillance networks, has been weaponized to monitor and suppress dissent, enforce loyalty, and police Tibetan identity and culture.

The consequences of this repression extend beyond Tibet itself. China’s coercive tactics are increasingly evident in neighboring Nepal, where infrastructure projects and diplomatic pressure echo the methods employed by the CCP in the Tibetan Plateau.²² This spillover effect underscores how the CCP’s infrastructure strategies are not only confined to domestic objectives but also serve as a blueprint for influence and coercion abroad. As such, Tibet offers a crucial case study of infrastructure coercion and hybrid strategy, foreshadowing the global implications of China’s expansionist ambitions.
 

The Strategic Importance of the Tibetan Plateau

Figure 1: Strategic Geography of the Tibetan Plateau

Chinese and Tibetan interaction and conflict trace back as far as the sixth century.²³ Although the conquest of Tibet by mainland China predates the CCP, the core grievances and the region’s importance to the CCP started with the founding of modern communist China. Three important reasons to control Tibet stood out at the beginning of the CCP’s rule. The first was that control of the Tibetan Plateau would provide access to natural resources—most importantly, water. The plateau is home to the Himalayas, known as the third pole because of the ice and glaciers at their peak. When the glaciers melt, the water flows through 10 major riverways that provide water to downstream countries including Nepal, India, Bhutan, and Myanmar.²⁴ The second reason to control Tibet was the necessity for the CCP to unify what it saw as historically Chinese territory and people under communist control and ideology. In this manner, the CCP viewed the Tibetan people—and their culture—as subjects that needed (re)integration into a common identity.²⁵ Lastly, the region would serve as a buffer zone against India in the case of interstate war or foreign influence. Securing Tibet provided the CCP with the ability to counter regional powers’ interests in China, including the United Kingdom, India, and the United States. The CCP saw the threat of foreign influence as a security concern because, following the Manchu Empire, the British had established a presence in Tibet’s trade markets and continued to influence the larger region indirectly through India post-independence.²⁶ This was seen in action when India assumed the trading markets and continued Britain’s protector policies over Tibet, including providing ammunition to Tibetans.²⁷ In addition, Tibet did not share a history of hostilities with India as it did with China, and Tibet’s religious and cultural connections to India proved a concern to the CCP. As such, for the CCP to establish a sovereign state, Tibet needed to be annexed into the new state to safeguard against foreign influence.

Post annexation and under the auspices of development, the CCP has actively leveraged the strategic importance of Tibet to build out a buffer zone, stage military forces, and control vital economic resources. It has done this through building critical nodes of infrastructure with dual-use capabilities, serving both civilian and military purposes. The coercive threat is both implicit and explicit, and the following case studies illustrate vulnerable areas of infrastructure, ranging from water to rail infrastructure, and the potential for coercion.
 

Water Infrastructure

Figure 2: Dam Infrastructure in Tibet

China has a long history of dam construction and water control, dating back to the Qin dynasty.²⁸ This tradition continues today, though modern projects on the Tibetan Plateau come with consequences for downstream countries on a scale heretofore impossible.²⁹ Mao Zedong’s concern over droughts in northern China laid the ideological groundwork for this extensive development. He famously stated, “There is more water in the south and less water in the north. If possible, it is okay to borrow a little.”³⁰ Since then, the PRC has embarked on an unprecedented era of hydraulic engineering, constructing over 80,000 dams and creating more than 98,000 reservoirs across the country.³¹ Water is thus being redirected to the arid climate in China’s north, improving the country’s water management while also maintaining the claim that “not one drop of China’s water should be shared without China using it first or without making those downstream pay for it.”³² While these projects have supported domestic growth, their environmental and geopolitical repercussions—particularly for nations reliant on rivers originating from the Tibetan Plateau—remain subjects of international concern.

Figure 2 highlights the rivers from the Tibetan Plateau that provide access to critical water basins that feed downstream to Nepal, India, Bangladesh, and the greater Mekong region. These rivers provide irrigational, potable, and industrial water to the people of Tibet and other lower riparian states.³³ At the same time, the water supports the PRC’s power generation and modernization plans to reduce its reliance on carbon and fossil fuels through hydropower.³⁴ As such, the PRC is strategically placing dams downstream to generate energy, but at questionable locations near border river-crossing points with Bhutan, India, and Nepal. This, in turn, has neighboring countries like India concerned about the flow of water, seasonal flooding, and the land that is being claimed in disputed regions for dam construction.³⁵ One example is a dam project along the Kosi River in Nepal, which flows alongside the Araniko Highway and connects to the Kodari-Zhangmu border crossing. The hydropower project benefits Nepal, but water rights issues surrounding this river flowing into India make the dam a point of contention.³⁶ Another area of concern is on the Brahmaputra River, which flows from the PRC into India and Bangladesh, with fears that downstream flow could be halted for geopolitical purposes.³⁷ The unilateral water management by the PRC is already creating negative downstream effects for surrounding countries while also generating a dominate strategic position for the PRC to drive relationships or coerce its neighbors into submission.

The leverage earned emerges from the effects of dam building: Specifically, generating the power to turn off the tap and affect water access leads to the ability to harm industries and economic growth downstream. For example, since China built dams on the Mekong River in 1986, water levels, flow disruption, and increased sediment have affected Cambodia, Laos, Myanmar, Thailand, and Vietnam, both individually and collectively.³⁸ These changes are harming the ecosystems on the river and the economic wellbeing of communities surrounding it. A study published in 2025 found that China’s dams prevented the Mekong mainstream from topping off on the Thai-Lao border and increased water restriction during monsoon seasons between 2012 and 2014.³⁹ These fluctuations are decreasing both the quality and the quantity of fish, negatively impacting a key source of regional employment.⁴⁰ This puts at risk not only sources for employment and food, but also increases the PRC’s leverage. These negative downstream effects showcase how well positioned the PRC is to dictate policy positions and other directives to its neighbors, who otherwise risk facing water scarcity.

The PRC will continue to strategically expand its water infrastructure in the near future to continue exerting pressure on its neighbors and the greater Mekong region. In 2021, the CCP announced in its Fourteenth Five-Year Plan that it would build a hydroelectric power station on the Yarlung Tsangpo River in Tibet, which would have extensive repercussions for Southeast Asia.⁴¹ Apart from ecological impacts, completion of the dam would allow the CCP to change water levels and induce flood or drought in areas downstream. These commitments lay the groundwork for continuing to challenge land disputes with neighboring countries and coercing them into yielding to the CCP.
 

Land, Villages, and Resettlement Efforts

From its inception, the CCP’s ambitions to assert regional dominance through settler colonialism and coercive tactics were evident. In addition to its military conquest, the CCP implemented systematic efforts to suppress Tibetan culture and erase its historical identity. This included redrawing Tibet’s borders to align with Chinese administrative divisions—prefectures, counties, cities, and townships—effectively fragmenting the region and consolidating Chinese control.⁴² The PRC also established a settler-colonial system aimed at dominating Tibet and dispossessing its people of their land, culture, and self-determination.⁴³ These tactics are further evident in the “whole village relocation programs” that China has enacted since the 1950s and which have accelerated in Tibet since 2016.⁴⁴ A 2024 study by Human Rights Watch estimates that from 2000 to 2025, the PRC will have coerced the resettlement of 930,000 Tibetans.⁴⁵ The PRC’s expansionist intentions are not limited to Tibet and the Tibetan people. In fact, following the annexation of Tibet in 1962, the PLA found itself embroiled in armed conflict over the annexation of lands shared with India, marking the Sino-Indian War.⁴⁶ However, the CCP was not as successful as it had been in Tibet. Following a ceasefire, both countries laid claim to overlapping border territory; as of 2025, the area remains not formally demarcated, yet still serves China’s current pursuit of territorial expansion along India’s northern border.⁴⁷

The contested border area, known as the Line of Actual Control (LAC), is characterized by harsh, uninhabitable terrain and sparse infrastructure, making demarcation physically difficult. The CCP exploits this ambiguity through a range of methods, including deploying PRC-aligned nomadic tribes to cross and occupy land on India’s side of the LAC. For example, since 2017, the CCP has reinvigorated the construction of border defense villages—xiaokang (“well-off”) villages—along the LAC. These villages attract settlers with government subsidies of approximately 14,000 yuan ($2,000 USD) annually.⁴⁸ Using the pretext of supporting those settlements, the PLA constructs infrastructure and demarcates new border markers, claiming the land as PRC territory on the grounds that it is inhabited by Chinese citizens.⁴⁹ A local official from the Indian territory of Ladakh explained that the CCP’s tactic of “salami slicing” in the LAC is designed to take land while avoiding large-scale conflict.⁵⁰ Salami slicing refers to the prolonged and hybrid strategy conducted in small increments in which the PLA has been extending the LAC, one kilometer at a time, using proxies.⁵¹ Because one large push might provoke military involvement, the strategy of using small incursions over an extended period has, thus far, yielded appeasement.

To date, it is estimated that there are around 965 xiaokang villages, with the most recent additions completed in Arunachal Pradesh, India.⁵² One of the most notable instances of salami slicing involved the construction of a dual-use bridge across Pangong Tso Lake. While it does facilitate settlements, the bridge also serves strategic military purposes by enabling the rapid movement of mechanized vehicles.⁵³ By circumventing the lake, the PLA gains a potential route for striking Indian territory with minimal warning. In this context, the PRC now has a strategic hold on gray-zone territory in dispute and is able to showcase its capabilities to rapidly strike if India tries to pose a threat. In effect, the CCP built a coercive tool when it built the bridge. Given the frequency of past military engagements along the LAC, the region appears increasingly primed for renewed conflict, with CCP infrastructure projects advancing the PRC’s military posture under the guise of civilian development.
 

Transportation and Rail

Figure 3: Dual-Use Transportation Infrastructure Supporting Military Posture in Tibet

In order to connect Tibet to mainland China and unlock Tibet’s natural resources—including its terrain for military and goods transport—the PRC has prioritized developing road and rail connections. Since 1959, the PRC has invested in building out Tibet’s infrastructure under the guise of economic development and integration. The scale of road and rail grew exponentially with the implementation of the WDP in the 1990s; since then, Tibet’s road network went from 4,536 miles to 73,818 miles while also connecting the region to the north and the mainland.⁵⁴ This infrastructure has also been instrumental in the mass relocation of Tibetans and the large-scale influx of Han Chinese settlers, leading to the (intentional) erosion of Tibetan cultural identity while strengthening the PRC’s strategic positioning along its border with India.

Figure 3 highlights the positioning of rails along the path of military assets, with a central concentration in Lhasa but expanding east to Nyingchi via the Lhasa-Nyingchi Railway. Shortly after the opening of the railway, the PLA moved the 52nd or 53rd Light Combined Arms Brigades to an exercise field, for both economic development and military mobilization, underscoring the dual-use nature of Tibet’s rail network.⁵⁵ There is already evidence of rapid deployments near the LAC with India in the Tawang Valley, which lies approximately 105 miles south of the Shannan railroad stop.⁵⁶ Recent reporting highlights that on the route to the Bumla Pass crossing, there was an expansion of trench build-up in 2024, including Helicopter pads; images taken on January 11, 2025, show the expansion of buildings east of the helicopter landing pads.⁵⁷ These developments will grow at a faster rate thanks in part to the growth of railroads in Tibet that facilitate the movement of construction materials.

Xi Jinping has shown no signs of slowing down investment in Tibet’s transportation infrastructure. As recently as 2020, he emphasized the importance of major infrastructure projects, stating that China must “promote the construction of key transportation and public-service facilities along the Sichuan-Tibet railway and other roads, building more unity lines and happiness roads.”⁵⁸ While framed as a means of integrating Tibet economically and culturally with mainland China, these infrastructure developments serve a more concerning dual purpose. The proximity of new and under-construction railways to the Indian border raises significant security concerns as they offer an additional route for the rapid deployment of military assets in the event of a border dispute or conflict along the LAC near Arunachal Pradesh.

As Tibet’s road and rail infrastructure continues to expand, Beijing is systematically positioning itself for future border skirmishes with India. The PRC’s strategic use of transportation networks extends past economic and political integration; it also serves as a crucial component of its broader military and geopolitical ambitions to deter or coercive its neighbors. By embedding dual-use infrastructure within Tibet, China strengthens its ability to mobilize military assets quickly, reinforcing its dominance in the region while posing a direct challenge to India along the LAC. The strategic use of transportation networks for military logistics underscores the PRC’s long-term ambitions in the region, demonstrating that its infrastructure projects serve not only economic and political objectives but also broader military and coercive goals.
 

Digital Infrastructure

The PRC actively leverages digital infrastructure not only to steal intellectual property abroad but also to enhance computational propaganda and repress minority groups within its periphery. The persecution and human rights abuse of the minorities in China is well documented, with examples including relocations of millions to “reeducation” camps to suffer slave labor and sterilizations.⁵⁹ Domestically, the CCP uses Huawei’s digital infrastructure to conduct mass surveillance on Uyghurs in Xinjiang, reinforcing its authoritarian control. Recent reports reveal that Huawei’s sales pitches included surveillance systems capable of analyzing voice recordings, monitoring detention centers, tracking political dissidents, and supporting police surveillance operations.⁶⁰ These capabilities illustrate how, under the guise of economic development and smart-city initiatives, China repurposes digital infrastructure into sophisticated tools of coercion, effectively transforming cities into surveillance hubs.⁶¹ Moreover, the CCP’s digital surveillance extends beyond China’s borders. In neighboring countries like Nepal, Beijing has exerted its growing influence to monitor and suppress Tibetan refugees, using Huawei’s infrastructure and influence to curtail their movements and political activities.

China’s digital infrastructure expansion has extended its surveillance reach into Nepal, where the government digitally tracks Tibetan dissidents and refugees. In 2010, Nepal awarded Huawei a contract to upgrade the country’s telecommunications network, making Huawei Nepal’s sole provider.⁶² Over time, Huawei embedded itself within Nepal’s Ministry of Communication and Information Technology (MOCIT), giving the CCP influence over media, private communications, and censorship policies.⁶³ With this infrastructure in place, China has intensified its monitoring of Tibetan refugees in Nepal, using internet surveillance to track and restrict their movements, fearing that they might expose human rights abuses in Tibet.⁶⁴ In a 2022 report, a Nepalese law enforcement official confirmed that Huawei’s technology has been misused to surveil not only Tibetans but also Nepalese officials, underscoring Beijing’s growing control over sovereign networks in the region.⁶⁵

Another case involved a Tibetan residing in Nepal who planned to visit their family in PRC-controlled Tibet but who had not disclosed their intent to anyone. After researching safe passage using a web address received via WeChat, the individual received an unsettling phone call—from a family member believed to be coerced—imploring them not to come due to potential risks to both their safety and their family’s wellbeing. Out of fear, the Tibetan remained in Nepal. A last example involved a Tibetan refugee in Nepal who spoke out publicly against the CCP’s mistreatment of the diaspora. This individual maintained regular contact with their family in Tibet, but suddenly, their relatives began pressuring them to return, with an urgency that felt unnatural and coerced. Suspicious of the requests, the refugee refused. In a later video call, they caught a glimpse of an armed man in the background, confirming that the PLA was attempting to lure them back into PRC-controlled Tibet for detention.⁶⁶

China’s expanding digital infrastructure and surveillance tactics in Nepal exemplify its broader strategy of digital repression by weaponizing technology to silence dissent, monitor exiles, and coerce minority populations beyond its own borders. The CCP’s infrastructural influence in foreign nations extends its persecution of ethnic, religious, and political groups it deems dissidents, and reinforces its authoritarian reach beyond mainland China. In 2019, Nepal and Huawei signed a $100 million deal to supply 4G infrastructure and test Nepal’s 5G network, further entrenching the PRC’s technological dominance in the country.⁶⁷ This deal reflects a broader trend in which nations, particularly those in Asia, Latin America, Africa, and the Middle East, welcome Chinese technological investments despite the well-known risks of surveillance, censorship, and coercion.⁶⁸ With norms and institutions still unsettled in the realm of internet governance, the PRC is actively working with partners—most notably Russia—to shape global digital standards so that they align with Chinese interests and its authoritarian model.⁶⁹ By embedding its technology into critical infrastructure worldwide, Beijing is not just exporting hardware—it is exporting control. As Huawei and other PRC-backed firms expand, their technology will continue to be leveraged for state surveillance, political influence, and the suppression of opposition. Without significant pushback, China’s digital coercion infrastructure will further entrench authoritarian governance models, leaving vulnerable nations increasingly dependent on a system designed to serve the CCP’s strategic interests over their own sovereignty.
 

Countering China’s Coercive Infrastructure in the Tibetan Plateau

The case studies addressing the CCP’s coercive infrastructure against Nepal and India demonstrate clear opportunities for the United States to counter the PRC’s expanding influence. More importantly, the case studies illustrate the tactics the CCP is likely to use against others in the Indo-Pacific. Much like Nepal, smaller nations should be wary of CCP surveillance and the use of this technology to pursue and persecute anyone considered a dissident. Meanwhile, near-peer adversaries should be cognizant of irregular warfare tactics designed to undermine border integrity and the weaponization of resources. To prevent the CCP from undermining a free and open Tibetan Plateau, the United States must increase its support of Nepalese and Indian sovereignty in the face of Chinese expansionist and coercive infrastructure.

Recommendation 1: Foster Indian and Nepalese Cooperation

India and Nepal share a common interest in countering Chinese encroachment on their territories, people, and networks. To improve relations and to strategically counter the PRC’s influence, the United States needs to encourage India to take proactive steps in several key areas relating to or involving Nepal.

Economic and technological partnerships. India and the United States can assist Nepal in modernizing its telecommunications infrastructure, offering alternatives to Chinese technology firms like Huawei. The United States can lead the charge by leveraging funding from the International Finance Corporation (DFC) and the United States Trade and Development Agency (USTDA) to engage partners in Nepal and India while also encouraging industry investment in Nepal’s digital infrastructure. Leveraging the DFC and USTDA aligns with expected revisions of U.S. Department of State strategy and, furthermore, will help position the United States to declare South Asia as a region critical to U.S. interests and thus to counter the CCP’s coercive power.⁷⁰ In parallel, expanding support for the Bay of Bengal Initiative for Multi-Sectoral Technical and Economic Cooperation (BIMSTEC) allows the United States to back regional integration and counterbalance Beijing’s influence. BIMSTEC provides a strategic platform to strengthen infrastructure and trade across South and Southeast Asia, particularly with India as a key partner. By investing in local firms and working with partners already embedded in the region, the United States can displace Chinese dominance over time, offering countries like Nepal sustainable, secure, and sovereign alternatives to PRC-backed development.

Infrastructure development. Collaborating on major infrastructure projects such as roads, railways, and hydroelectric plants can provide tangible benefits to Nepal’s economy and demonstrate India’s commitment to its neighbor’s development. One method to do so is by leveraging the grant funding in the Millennium Challenge Corporation (MCC) Nepal Compact. The compact’s goal is to maintain road quality, increase access to electricity, and increase cross-border energy trade between Nepal and India. With only 8 percent of the total $500 million used as of early 2025, the United States should fast-track MCC project approvals and expand funding to include key transport corridors that integrate Nepal with India and Bangladesh, thus reducing Nepal’s reliance on China’s BRI-backed roads.⁷¹ In addition, financing India-Nepal hydroelectric projects with U.S. capital from the DFC can help secure Nepal’s energy independence from China.

Plan for water scarcity. Preparing for the PRC to use its coercive infrastructure needs to start now. Nepal and India both will benefit from modeling outcomes in the event that China significantly reduces or halts water flowing south. This includes studying short-term solutions such as storage facilities or importing more potable water. Tabletop exercises stress-testing Nepal’s and India’s water infrastructures, supplies, and demands can provide an investment roadmap to target medium- to long-term needs. These exercises would build on previous studies funded by USAID that analyzed water programs and infrastructure in the Mekong region—first, to inform policymakers about the extent of coercive power and, second, to build alternatives to BRI investments.⁷²

Recommendation 2: Strengthen Cyber Defense for Digital Sovereignty

Huawei’s myriad vulnerabilities create opportunities for the CCP and others to incapacitate information systems by unleashing malicious computer malware. The 2021 Colonial Pipeline ransomware attack demonstrated that the immobilization of just one oil pipeline could lead to a national state of emergency in the United States.⁷³ The PLA has an entire command dedicated to conducting offensive cyber operations and can easily interfere with internet connections, power grids, banking systems, and mobile communication worldwide.⁷⁴ Recent statements from U.S. authorities regarding an ongoing CCP campaign against U.S. infrastructure highlight these capabilities.⁷⁵ If further action is not taken, these examples may be just the first of many potential consequences for China’s neighbors.

Infrastructure development. One way to counter the PRC is to encourage regional partners to mandate a standardized cybersecurity protocol for both the government and private sectors. The United States can leverage the State Department’s United States International Cyberspace and Digital Policy Strategy to strengthen “digital solidarity” and to promote collaborative efforts at the international level. Further, this strategy is designed “to counter and respond to malicious cyber operations, cybercrime, and other digital harms” and to promote “cooperative efforts among states and civic actors to defend and advance human rights.”⁷⁶ The United States can use this updated policy to interface with India and Nepal to find solutions for protecting digital rights and privacy from PLA operations and to develop methods for countering human rights violations via digital means. Furthermore, the United States can expand cyber diplomacy efforts to propose cybersecurity cooperation agreements either on a bilateral or multilateral basis. Such cooperation agreements could design mechanisms to connect agencies like the Department of Homeland Security’s Cybersecurity Infrastructure Security Agency (CISA) and foreign service officers to key partners in South Asia to help identify best practices to protect systemically critical infrastructure.

Recommendation 3: Enhance Intelligence Collection and Sharing

Early intelligence indications and warnings of escalatory actions by the PLA have successfully thwarted violence so far. In 2022, for example, geospatial intelligence that the United States shared with India allowed the Indian army to repel a PLA advance in the Arunachal Pradesh region. The skirmish did not result in any deaths, averting the potential for further escalation.⁷⁷ This incident represents a success story in which intelligence and information sharing kept regional stability intact.

Intelligence sharing. The United States can reaffirm its willingness to share critical information and intelligence to support India’s own intelligence and surveillance capabilities. The previously mentioned intelligence sharing took place because of the 2020 Basic Exchange and Cooperation Agreement (BECA) on geospatial cooperation between the United States and India. Using this as a benchmark, implementing an intelligence-sharing pact between the United States, India, and Nepal would enable higher success rates in predicting and responding to regional threats. Future efforts could expand to include establishing digital indicators that measure the onset of influence operations, including foreign-controlled bot networks. Coordination on identifying and neutralizing automated accounts, especially those used to seed confusion or amplify tensions during border standoffs, will help partners stay ahead of destabilizing narratives while minimizing public attention and concerns, political backlash, and escalatory responses. This type of practice is not uncommon; the United States is already involved in sharing intelligence through the Five Eyes and North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO) alliances.
 

Conclusion

Until now, the CCP has maintained a slow, methodical approach to eroding the sovereignty of nations in the Tibetan Plateau. However, the countdown to 2035 will see increasing pressure on any democracies and hybrid regimes that are not in step with the CCP’s plans. The PRC’s initial method of pressure will rely on the spread of influence operation campaigns to sow distrust and shape foreign influence. In sync with these campaigns, the CCP will employ irregular warfare tactics to foment its expansionist goals. Maintaining a free and open Tibetan Plateau will require an extensive and tailored strategic approach. The key factors to mitigate PRC expansion involve strengthening the border bond between India and Nepal, enhancing intelligence collection sharing, investing in cybersecurity defense, and leveraging economic measures.

Thomas Hader is a U.S. Marine Corps officer. He is also the lead adviser for the NATO Defence Education Enhancement Programme (DEEP) Global Threats Advisory Group (GTAG).

Benjamin Jensen, PhD, is director of the Futures Lab, a senior fellow for the Defense and Security Department at the Center for Strategic and International Studies (CSIS) in Washington, D.C., the Frank E. Petersen Chair for Emerging Technology, and a professor of strategic studies at the Marine Corps University’s School of Advanced Warfighting.

Divya Ramjee, PhD, is an adjunct fellow with the Futures Lab and an assistant professor at the Rochester Institute of Technology.

Jose M. Macias III is an associate data fellow with the CSIS Futures Lab.

This report is made possible by general support to CSIS. No direct sponsorship contributed to this report.

Please consult the PDF for references.