Who shapes the planet’s green future: China or the West?

Across Africa’s Sahel, the Great Green Wall is transforming from a Western-financed climate project into a global contest of green visions. As China joins with its own brand of eco-development — tying restoration to growth and technology — the question arises: who will shape the planet’s sustainable future?

Africa’s Great Green Wall is one of the continent’s most ambitious restoration projects — but it isn’t the largest of its kind. China has its own version: the Three-North Shelterbelt Program, launched in the 1980s to plant 35 million hectares of forest by 2050. Despite a rocky start with monocultures and high tree mortality, it has already greened vast stretches of degraded land, with plans to cover roughly a third of China’s territory.

After decades of Western-led partnerships, many African nations now look East for alternatives. “Africans don’t want to become Chinese — they want options,” says Annah Zhu, researcher at Wageningen University & Research. “It’s not about replacing Europe with China, but about having the ability to choose.”

“Until recently, few – myself included – could have foreseen China becoming a global environmental player,” says Zhu, who was born and raised in the US. Since around 2013, Beijing has actively promoted the concept of ‘ecological civilization’ — an ambitious blend of state planning, infrastructure investment and environmental awareness that took shape as smog engulfed China’s cities.

“For the government, going green wasn’t just about the environment; it was also about legitimacy and economic strategy,” Zhu explains. “By investing heavily in clean energy and reforestation, China could both address pollution and strengthen its position in the global green economy.”

Unlike in Western democracies, environmental policy in China is less polarised. “Where Western politics tends to split over climate action, in China there is broad acceptance of government intervention,” says Zhu. “That’s partly because dissenting voices have less space — but it also means the country can act fast, as you see in its massive renewable energy rollout.”

Across Africa’s Sahel, the Great Green Wall is now transforming from a primarily Western-financed climate project into a global contest of green visions. “China doesn’t just plant trees,” says Zhu. “It follows an entire model of eco-development – one that links environmental restoration to economic growth, technology and state-led coordination.” That approach, she argues, is beginning to be exported abroad, transforming not only landscapes, but also the geopolitics of sustainability.

Where European partners emphasise community participation and good governance, China’s model is more technocratic and results-driven — focused on building new ecologies and not just restoring old ones. “The focus is on development,” Zhu explains. “That appeals to African governments that are not only interested in ecological restoration.” For many African countries facing drought, food insecurity and poverty, China’s offer is attractive. Its model promises not only trees, but also roads, markets and green industries - jobs.

Zhu’s research shows how these two worldviews — the Western environmentalist and the Chinese eco-developmentalist— are colliding in Africa’s drylands. “Europe frames the Great Green Wall as a climate adaptation and restoration project,” she says. “China sees it more as a development corridor that connects people, economies and ecosystems.”

Neither vision is necessarily wrong, but together they expose a deeper question: who defines what sustainable development looks like? “Western donors often claim their model is more participatory and ethical,” Zhu notes. “But in practice, both systems rely on expert knowledge, top-down coordination and measurable outcomes. They just use different languages — one of rights and inclusion, the other of efficiency and prosperity.”

By examining these contrasts, Zhu wants to move beyond the binary of “good” versus “bad” environmentalism. “China’s model is state-driven, but it’s also rooted in the belief that humans are a part of nature and always tinkering with ecological processes. In the West, we often see nature as something separate, to be protected from humans. These are fundamentally different philosophies.”

Zhu’s research doesn’t idealise China’s approach — nor does it dismiss it. Instead, it invites Europe to reflect. “The Great Green Wall shows there isn’t just one way to build a sustainable future,” she argues. “We need to accept that alternative models can coexist, and that learning from each other may be more productive than competing.”

Her work also challenges Western institutions to reconsider how they define success. “If we measure sustainability by nature protection, governance and participation, we risk overlooking the momentum now driven by infrastructure, technology and state coordination,” she says. “China reminds us that ecological transformation also depends on scale and long-term planning.”

As climate ambitions rise, so does the need for collaboration across political and philosophical divides. “The future of eco-development won’t be written by one model alone,” Zhu concludes. “It will depend on how we combine different strengths: Western accountability, African agency and Chinese capacity for scale.”

Her message is clear: the Great Green Wall is more than an environmental project — it can be a test of how humanity can cooperate. “The future of the planet may depend less on choosing one model than on learning to understand each other’s.”

This research was funded by The Dutch Research Council (NWO)