Uncategorized

ANALYSIS: Trump in Beijing — the bluster of a man who has never read a briefing on China

Jacques Pj Provost

2026-06-20 16:46:13

A Predictable Man—That Is, the Worst Possible Negotiator

Wang Huning, 70, chief ideologist of the Chinese Communist Party and the man who authored the “Chinese Dream” doctrine, published a book in 1991 titled America Against America. In it, he describes a country being eaten away from within by overconfidence, a cult of spectacle, and an inability to think long-term. Thirty-five years later, this book has become Xi Jinping’s guide to Washington.

Trump is the perfect embodiment of Wang Huning’s prophecy. Vain, and therefore easily manipulated. Averse to the details, and therefore ignorant. Obsessed with images, and therefore neglectful of substance. When Xi shakes Trump’s hand in front of the cameras, Xi knows exactly what he’s doing. Trump, on the other hand, thinks he’s “winning” because the photo looks good.

And yet, in every past meeting, it is China that has walked away with something concrete. In 2017: no concessions on the South China Sea, no commitments on Taiwan, no agreement on human rights in Xinjiang. In exchange: a dinner at the Forbidden City, a spectacular military parade, and a Trump returning to Washington saying, “Xi is a great friend.”

There is something deeply sad about this dynamic. An American president who doesn’t understand that he is the product being sold to him. Xi doesn’t respect him. Xi is using him. And every time Trump returns home claiming he has “won,” he has just lost—without even realizing it.

The long-term perspective versus the impulse of the moment

Xi Jinping thinks in terms of decades. His “Belt and Road Initiative,” launched in 2013, has already invested $962 billion in 149 countries. The project is designed to be completed in 2049—the centennial of the People’s Republic. Trump thinks in terms of four-year election cycles, and often in terms of four-hour media cycles.

This difference is not cultural. It is structural. A populist democracy cannot negotiate with a patient regime. It can thunder, tweet, and impose sanctions—but it cannot hold a position for three years, because in three years, public opinion will have shifted, Congress will have changed, and the president will have been replaced. Beijing knows this. Beijing waits.

Rare earths — the leverage that no one in the White House understands

92% of neodymium magnets are produced in China

Without neodymium magnets, there would be no wind turbines, no electric cars, no military drones, and no F-35s. China produces 92% of the world’s neodymium magnets. It refines 87% of the rare earth elements used in the global electronics industry. The Pentagon attempted to revive a U.S. supply chain in California in 2022: the Mountain Pass mine now produces 15% of U.S. military needs. Fifteen percent.

In April 2025, Beijing imposed export restrictions on seven strategic rare earth elements. It took American manufacturers three weeks to grasp the full implications of the decision. Tesla announced a production delay. Lockheed Martin held a crisis meeting. The White House issued a four-line statement calling on China to “abide by international trade rules.”

The statement went unnoticed. It should have made the front page. Because it reveals the extent of the dependence—and the total lack of a Plan B.

I often think about this irony. While Trump talks about “challenging” China, it is China that decides how many wind turbines the United States will be able to build next year. How many drones the Pentagon will be able to deliver to Ukraine. How many electric cars will roll off the assembly lines in Michigan. The real balance of power isn’t expressed in tweets. It’s expressed in contracts.

American industry held hostage by its own strategic laziness

For thirty years, the finance departments of American multinationals have outsourced to China to boost their profit margins. Apple, General Electric, Boeing, Caterpillar—they’ve all been in on it. They’ve all signed on. They’ve all collected their bonuses. And now that the dependency is here, ingrained in the production lines, those same executives are calling on Washington to “protect American interests.”

This “protection” has a name: it’s the American taxpayer who pays—through subsidies, tariffs, and rising consumer prices. Tim Cook, Apple’s CEO, earned $74 million in 2024. The iPhone 16 is still 95% assembled in China. And Donald Trump says that China “isn’t challenging us.”

Taiwan — the clock that keeps ticking, but no one is watching

Lai Ching-te, 65, President of an Island That Could Disappear

Lai Ching-te was elected president of Taiwan on January 13, 2024, with 40.05% of the vote. His party, the DPP, is openly pro-independence. Beijing considers him a separatist. Since his inauguration, China has increased its military exercises around the island by a factor of 2.3. In October 2024, Operation “Joint Sword-2024B” mobilized 153 Chinese military aircraft over a 25-hour period.

In Taipei, at his office in the Zhongzheng District, Lai Ching-te receives weekly briefings from Taiwanese military intelligence. The scenario being discussed is no longer “if China attacks” but “when China attacks.” Pentagon analysts point to a window between 2027 and 2030. Xi Jinping is 72 years old. He wants Taiwan before he dies. This is written in the Party’s internal documents.

And Trump, who is set to meet with Xi in Beijing, declared in March 2025 that “Taiwan has stolen our semiconductor industry.” The statement was celebrated by Chinese state media for three days. The People’s Daily ran the headline: “U.S. President Acknowledges Taipei’s Parasitic Nature.”

Imagine for a second. You are Lai Ching-te. You govern 23 million people who could be bombed in 18 months. And the president of your main ally is publicly saying that your country wrongly belongs to him. How do you feel? Betrayal, yes. But also something colder: the certainty that no one will come. The certainty that you will have to die alone.

TSMC—the factory that holds the world’s fate and that China wants

TSMC, the Taiwan Semiconductor Manufacturing Company, produces 92% of the world’s most advanced semiconductors. Without TSMC, no more iPhones, no more PlayStations, no more Teslas, no more F-35 fighter jets, no more guided missiles. Nothing at all. Its headquarters are in Hsinchu, 70 kilometers from Taipei. If Beijing takes Taiwan, Beijing takes TSMC. If Beijing takes TSMC, Beijing controls the world.

The United States realized this in 2022 and funded a $65 billion TSMC factory in Arizona. Production was originally scheduled for 2025, then pushed back to 2026, and then again to 2027. Taiwanese engineers refuse to relocate to Arizona—they consider the work culture there too lax. When the plant finally begins production, it will account for 4% of TSMC’s global capacity. Four percent.

What this meeting will actually achieve

A photo, a quote, a triumphant return—and zero substance

The script is already written. Xi will welcome Trump at the Beijing airport with full military honors. There will be a dinner at Zhongnanhai. There will be a press conference where each will read from a prepared statement. Trump will say, “Xi is a remarkable man.” Xi will say, “Sino-American relations are at a historic turning point.” No agreement will be signed. No concessions will be secured. No concrete figures will be announced.

And yet, on the flight home, Trump will tell reporters that it is “the greatest deal ever made.” Fox News will run the headline “Trump Tames Xi.” CNN will run the headline “Historic Summit.” The Wall Street Journal will publish a cautious editorial on page 14. And three weeks later, Beijing will announce new restrictions on gallium exports to the United States. No one will make the connection.

And yet, that is exactly the connection that needs to be made. Every U.S.-China summit since 2001 has been followed by a hardening of China’s stance. Not a softening. A hardening. Because Beijing interprets every summit as validation of its strategy: while Washington talks, Beijing moves forward.

I know this analysis will displease those who want to believe that a strong leader is enough to sustain an empire. But recent history is harsh on that belief. It is not strength that sustains empires. It is attention. Discipline. The ability to read a 400-page report without falling asleep. Trump has many qualities—he also has the rare one of being utterly incapable of any of that.

The Hidden Cost: Allies Drifting Away

While Trump prepares for his summit with Xi, the United States’ traditional allies are watching and drawing their own conclusions. In 2025, Japan launched a direct strategic dialogue with India without inviting Washington. South Korea is negotiating a technology-sharing agreement with the European Union. Australia has resumed its submarine orders with France following the humiliation of AUKUS.

These are small decisions. They don’t make the headlines. But taken together over five years, they paint a picture of a world where the United States is no longer the center of gravity. And that is exactly what Beijing has been waiting for since 1949.

What Should Be Done — and What No One Will Do

Rebuilding a Diplomatic Corps That Can Speak Mandarin

The U.S. State Department currently has 1,217 diplomats capable of conducting a professional conversation in Mandarin. The Chinese Ministry of Foreign Affairs has 4,800 diplomats capable of conducting a professional conversation in English. The ratio is 1 to 4. And it’s getting worse every year, because Chinese language programs at U.S. universities are closing due to a lack of funding.

Rebuilding this capability would take fifteen years. No one in Congress wants to fund a program whose results will only be visible under three different presidents. Meanwhile, Beijing is funding its Confucius Institutes at 162 U.S. universities. The imbalance is invisible—and it is permanent.

Stop thinking that public humiliation works with Beijing

Xi Jinping does not react to shame. He does not react to tweets. He does not react to press conferences. He reacts to only one thing: concrete power dynamics—economic, military, and technological. Everything else is just noise to him. Trump makes a lot of noise. That’s all he produces.

The only policy that has ever swayed Beijing was Joe Biden’s quiet and tenacious approach between 2021 and 2024: restrictions on advanced semiconductors, a technological alliance with the Netherlands and Japan, funding for TSMC Arizona, and massive investment in military R&D. This policy put Beijing under real pressure. And Trump is methodically undoing it, simply because it doesn’t bear his name.

That’s what gnaws at me. We had a plan. It wasn’t perfect, but it was working. And we’re destroying it for reasons that have nothing to do with China, and everything to do with one man’s ego. Meanwhile, in Beijing, in an office in Zhongnanhai, someone is smiling. And that smile should send a chill down our spines.

Conclusion: The Sentence That Will Be Remembered

“Thanks to me”—the epitaph of an era

When historians write, twenty years from now, the chapter on the relative decline of American influence in Asia, they may cite this tweet from May 6, 2026. Not because it is important in and of itself. But because it sums up a mindset. An empire’s inability to see that it has been surpassed. The chatter that replaces strategy. The “I” that replaces the “we.”

Xi Jinping, for his part, doesn’t tweet. He acts. He builds. He waits.

And one day—perhaps in two years, perhaps in five—history will send the bill. It won’t be addressed to Donald Trump. It will be addressed to an American president whose name we don’t yet know, and who will have to explain to 340 million citizens why their country is no longer number one in the world. That bill is being written today. With every tweet. With every photo op. With every “thanks to me” that’s a lie.

Lai Ching-te, in Taipei, looks up at the sky every morning. He knows that one day—perhaps on an ordinary Tuesday—Chinese planes will no longer turn back. And on that day, he’ll call Washington. And on that day, we’ll know what the phrase “thanks to me, China hasn’t challenged us” was really worth.

By Maxime Marquette, columnist