Beyond geopolitics: Why Chinese language education should not become a casualty of strategic competition

By Dai Fan

In today’s polarized world, almost every interaction with China is read through geopolitics. Universities, research institutes, cultural exchanges—even language classrooms—are too often cast as arenas of strategic rivalry rather than spaces of learning.

As Director of the Center for Philippine Studies at Jinan University, I have spent my career studying Philippine history, society, and China–Philippines relations. One lesson is clear: sustainable relations cannot rest on diplomacy alone. They require mutual understanding, educational exchange, and people-to-people ties.

Thus, it is troubling to see a recent commentary by the U.S.-based think tank SeaLight frame Jinan University’s Chinese-language education in the Philippines as part of China’s United Front strategy. Such reductionism ignores more than a century of educational engagement and the lived experience of Chinese Filipinos.

Founded in 1906, Jinan University is China’s oldest institution created for overseas Chinese. Its first students came from Java. The name “Jinan” means “facing Nanyang,” symbolizing its mission to serve overseas Chinese communities. In 1927, it established the Nanyang Cultural and Educational Division; in 1929, Chinese Filipino students published The Philippines, China’s first journal on the country. These milestones predate the People’s Republic, the Cold War, and today’s strategic competition.

For 120 years, Jinan’s mission has been consistent: educate overseas Chinese, advance scholarship, and preserve language and culture. This continuity deserves recognition before political labels are imposed.

Chinese-language education is only part of Jinan’s broader academic ecosystem. The university is a leader in social sciences, conducting research on overseas Chinese history, migration, diaspora, literature, economics, international relations, media, and Southeast Asian studies. It hosts China’s only Ministry of Education Key Research Base for Overseas Chinese Studies. This reflects a genuine academic commitment, not simply language training.

Ironically, global academia increasingly values migration and diaspora studies. To dismiss them when they involve China undermines intellectual fairness.

Missing from SeaLight’s analysis is the perspective of Chinese Filipinos. Chinese communities have lived in the Philippines for centuries. Binondo, established in the late sixteenth century, is the world’s oldest Chinatown—a reminder that Chinese–Filipino interaction predates the modern nation-state.

Over generations, Chinese Filipinos have become integral to Philippine society. They built schools, hospitals, charities, and businesses. They contributed to commerce, manufacturing, education, science, healthcare, journalism, and public service. Their philanthropy and disaster relief have aided countless families.

These contributions never required abandoning cultural heritage. Maintaining Chinese language and traditions has not made them less Filipino. My Chinese Filipino friends are proud citizens, secure in their national identity, while also preserving their ethnic culture. This reality deserves respect, not suspicion.

The Philippines itself illustrates why multilingual education matters. As one of Asia’s most linguistically diverse societies, it has long valued cultural and linguistic diversity. Chinese-language education exists alongside Filipino, English, and numerous regional and indigenous languages. Research emphasizes cultivating local teachers and integrating Chinese-language education into Philippine development, not treating it as a political tool.

Learning ancestral languages is neither unusual nor uniquely Chinese. Heritage-language education worldwide allows communities to preserve culture while participating fully in national life. This principle aligns with internationally recognized cultural and educational rights. Chinese-language education should be judged by the same standard.

China and the Philippines have differences. Maritime disputes require dialogue. But it would be a mistake to let disagreements define every aspect of relations. Universities do not negotiate territorial claims. Teachers do not set foreign policy but they teach, research, and foster understanding.

SeaLight is entitled to question Jinan University. But rigorous scholarship demands more than skepticism. It requires historical perspective, methodological balance, and fairness. Criticism is strongest when evidence leads, not when suspicion dictates.

For more than a century, Jinan University has connected overseas Chinese communities with language, culture, and knowledge. That mission has remained consistent across political eras. Hence, universities bear a responsibility not to deepen divisions but to preserve human connections that politics alone cannot sustain.

The author is Director of the Center for Philippine Studies at Jinan University, Guangzhou, China.