When China began speaking the language of green development within its Belt and Road Initiative (BRI), scepticism was inevitable. After a decade defined by concrete, steel, ports, power plants and debt-laden infrastructure, Beijing’s sudden emphasis on sustainability raised a fair question: is this evolution — or cosmetic correction
The answer, inconveniently for both cheerleaders and critics, lies somewhere in between.
The original BRI was unapologetically infrastructure-heavy. Roads, railways, ports, coal power plants and industrial zones were rolled out across Asia, Africa and parts of Europe at a pace few development partners could match. For many recipient countries, BRI projects filled glaring infrastructure gaps that Western lenders were unwilling or unable to finance quickly.
But the costs were real.
Projects were often debt-funded, opaque in procurement, and weak on environmental safeguards. Some assets underperformed. Others strained public finances. “Debt-trap diplomacy” became the shorthand critique in Western capitals — sometimes exaggerated, sometimes deserved.
China heard the criticism. More importantly, China felt the pushback.
By the late 2010s, Beijing faced project delays, renegotiations, reputational damage, and resistance from host countries whose publics were increasingly wary. At the same time, global finance shifted. ESG standards hardened. Climate risk became capital risk. Lending for coal collapsed. Even China’s own banks grew cautious.
Out of that convergence emerged what is now branded the “Green BRI”.
What’s Actually Different? On paper, quite a bit.
China has formally committed to:
Ending overseas coal power financing
Expanding BRI into renewables, electric mobility, grid upgrades, energy efficiency, and digital infrastructure
Aligning projects with host-country climate goals
Encouraging Chinese lenders to adopt greener risk frameworks
There has been a visible shift. Solar, wind, hydropower, battery storage and EV-related infrastructure now dominate new BRI energy announcements. Lending volumes have fallen, but project composition has changed.
This is not accidental. It reflects China’s own domestic priorities. Beijing is building the world’s largest renewable energy system at home. It dominates global supply chains for solar panels, batteries, and EVs. Exporting green infrastructure is not charity — it is industrial strategy.
In that sense, the Green BRI is credible. China is offering what it has become good at.
But Debt Did Not Magically Disappear
Here is where the scepticism remains justified.
While the type of projects is changing, the financing logic often has not. Many Green BRI projects are still loan-funded, frequently backed by sovereign guarantees. For countries with weak balance sheets, “green” does not automatically mean “affordable”.
A solar plant that cannot service its debt is no more sustainable than a coal plant that cannot. Sustainability is not just about emissions; it is about fiscal durability.
Moreover, transparency concerns persist. Contracts are often confidential. Dispute resolution mechanisms still favour Chinese lenders. Local capacity-building varies widely.
So while the Green BRI is less carbon-intensive, it is not yet uniformly risk-light. Is This Expansionism in Green Clothing?
Western concerns about Chinese expansionism have not vanished — they have simply evolved.
From Washington and Brussels, the Green BRI is viewed less as environmental altruism and more as strategic positioning:
Locking in markets for Chinese green technology
Deepening influence through standards-setting
Building long-term dependencies in energy systems and digital infrastructure
These concerns are not imaginary. Infrastructure always carries geopolitical weight. A grid, a port, or a data backbone shapes who sets rules and who bears leverage.
But here’s the uncomfortable counterpoint: the West largely vacated this space first.
Western development finance retreated from large-scale infrastructure for decades, constrained by domestic politics, risk aversion, and conditionality. China filled the vacuum. Now, as green infrastructure becomes the next frontier, Western powers are rediscovering their concern — belatedly.
The Real Test Is Not China’s Intent — It’s Recipient Agency
The central mistake in much of the debate is framing the Green BRI purely through China’s motives.
The decisive factor is not Beijing’s rhetoric. It is how recipient countries negotiate, regulate, and integrate these projects.
A green project negotiated badly can still be extractive.
A green project aligned with national plans, transparent financing, and local value creation can be transformative.
China will pursue its interests. So will the West. That is not a scandal; it is geopolitics.
The question is whether countries like Sri Lanka treat sustainability as a bargaining chip — or as a governance standard.
The Newsline Verdict
The Green BRI is not a myth. There is a genuine shift in project mix, driven by climate reality and economic logic. But nor is it a moral conversion.
It is an adaptation.
China is learning from resistance, market pressure, and its own experience. It is offering greener tools — still tied to strategic interest, still requiring careful scrutiny.
For the West, dismissing the Green BRI as mere greenwashing risks irrelevance. Competing effectively would require offering credible alternatives, not just criticism.
For recipient countries, the lesson is simpler and harder: sustainability is not imported; it is enforced at home.
Green roads can still lead to debt.
Green power can still concentrate control.
And green rhetoric, without institutional discipline, changes very little.
The road has new signage.
Whether it leads somewhere better depends on who is steering.
