OP-ED: Beijing Preaches Peace at the UN While Secretly Training Putin’s Soldiers

“Impartial”: The Word That Embodies the Entire Lie

Ambassador Sun Lei used the word “impartial” to describe China’s position on the war in Ukraine. This word has been at the heart of Beijing’s foreign policy narrative since February 24, 2022. China presents itself as a potential mediator—a player that has not taken sides, that engages in dialogue with all parties, and that does not supply lethal weapons to Russia—a distinction that Beijing formally maintains while supplying Moscow with the electronic components, machine tools, and industrial equipment that keep its war machine running.

The EU has described China as a “key enabler” of the war in Russia. The head of European diplomacy, Kaja Kallas, stated on June 15 that Brussels had confirmed through its own channels that the military training had indeed taken place and was now assessing its implications. Within the European Council, discreet discussions are underway regarding the need for additional measures—taking into account trade considerations that make any action against Beijing politically costly for certain members.

The Call for Peace and Its Unspoken Conditions

Sun Lei’s speech to the Security Council called for negotiations based on “full and unconditional adherence to the principles of the UN Charter” and on “addressing the root causes of the conflict.” This wording is far from neutral. The rhetoric of “root causes” is precisely the same that Putin uses to justify his aggression—citing NATO expansion and Russian security. By repeating this framing without qualification, Beijing implicitly endorses Moscow’s position before the UN Security Council.

Worse still: a call for negotiations “without preconditions” objectively favors Russia, which militarily occupies 18% of Ukrainian territory and would benefit from a ceasefire that would freeze its territorial gains. For Zelensky and Ukraine, negotiating on these terms would amount to legitimizing a territorial conquest by armed force—a precedent that the international order based on the UN Charter is precisely meant to prohibit.

I understand the exhaustion that leads some to welcome any call for negotiation. But not all negotiations are created equal. A call for peace that fails to name the aggressor, that frames the conflict as symmetrical, and that demands concessions from the victim rather than the perpetrator is not a call for peace—it is a diplomatic tool serving the occupier.

Existing Sanctions and Their Limitations

The EU has already imposed sanctions on Chinese companies it identifies as supporting Russia’s war effort. These measures primarily target companies that supply dual-use components—electronics, semiconductors, machine tools—whose presence in Russian weapons has been documented through analyses of equipment captured on the Ukrainian battlefield. An analysis by the International Centre for Defence and Security (ICDS) published on June 26, 2026, details how China supplied approximately 70% of Russia’s imports of ammonium perchlorate in 2024—an oxidizer essential for solid-fuel missile propellants.

However, these sanctions remain limited. China accounted for between 37% and 38% of Russian imports in 2023–2024, compared to 13%–14% in 2021. According to Ukrainian sources cited by the ICDS, Chinese companies contributed to the increase in production of Iskander-M missiles at the Votkinsk plant between 2023 and 2024. Sino-Russian economic cooperation has become one of the pillars enabling Moscow to circumvent Western sanctions—and the EU has not yet figured out how to respond to this reality without severing its own trade ties with Beijing.

Kallas and the Redefinition of Europe’s View of China

The assessment by EU Foreign Affairs Chief Kaja Kallas is straightforward: the EU must “stop viewing China primarily through an economic lens” and focus on what she calls its role as a “key enabler of Russia’s war.” This phrasing stands in stark contrast to the rhetoric of a “strategic economic partner” that has dominated EU-China relations for two decades. It acknowledges that foreign policy and trade policy can no longer be treated as watertight compartments in the face of a China that combines the two into a coherent strategy of support for Moscow.

But translating this assessment into concrete policy is another matter. Chinese direct investment in the EU and the United Kingdom still stood at 10 billion euros in 2024, according to ICDS data. Many member states—particularly those in Central and Southern Europe—maintain close economic ties with Beijing, which complicates any common approach. The gap between strategic analysis and the capacity for collective action remains the EU’s Achilles’ heel when it comes to China.

Kallas is correct in his assessment. But being right is not enough. I have covered enough European Councils to know that unanimity on China is about as likely as snow in Rome in July. As long as certain member states prioritize markets and investments, the EU will remain structurally incapable of responding to a China that, for its part, prioritizes power.

The Russian Response: Between Denial and Evasion

When asked about the Reuters report, the Kremlin declined to comment, citing “false information published in the West.” Russian lawmaker Andrei Kartapolov, who chairs the Russian parliament’s Defense Committee, called the report “pure nonsense” and stated that the Russian military had “nothing to learn from China.” This is a striking denial: if the training did not exist or was of no significance, the logical response would be a factual denial backed by counterevidence. Calling it “nonsense” without substantial refutation does not constitute a rebuttal.

The Chinese Foreign Ministry’s response followed a similar line: the allegations are “entirely baseless,” and Beijing’s position on the Ukrainian crisis has “remained consistent.” This type of denial—categorical but lacking in detail, with no invitation to examine the documents cited and no proposed counter-investigation—is the form that state lies take when they are sufficiently well-documented that a detailed rebuttal would risk revealing more than silence.

What the Russian Internal Report from Nanjing Reveals Despite Itself

Among the most revealing details of the Reuters scoop is an internal Russian military report on the training in Nanjing, which praised the quality of the Chinese military’s equipment and the high level of theoretical expertise of its instructors—while noting their lack of actual combat experience. This last point is unintentionally revealing: the Russians are learning from Chinese theory and equipment, but remain superior in tactical experience. This paints a picture of cooperation in which each side contributes what the other lacks—and where the whole is more dangerous than either party alone.

What makes this cooperation particularly troubling is its institutional structure. This is not a matter of a few officers informally exchanging notes. It is a signed agreement between designated generals, approved by decree of the Minister of Defense, involving specialized facilities in strategically sensitive areas. This is structured, planned, and approved military cooperation at the highest levels of both states—while their respective representatives preach peace at the United Nations.

There is something particularly outrageous about this disconnect between words and deeds. Every time Sun Lei spoke of “sincere political will” at the Security Council, somewhere in a Chinese military facility, a Russian general was taking notes on radiological reconnaissance techniques. This is not mere hypocrisy—it is a deliberate policy of double standards.

Soldiers Trained by China on the Ukrainian Front Lines

Reuters reports that among the approximately 200 Russian soldiers trained in Beijing in November 2025, some have since joined the theater of operations in Ukraine. This information transforms the secret training program from an abstract diplomatic issue into a direct operational reality. Russian soldiers who are better prepared to operate in contaminated environments—or to conduct operations involving CBRN risks—are now potentially facing Ukrainian forces.

The context is a conflict in which Russia has, according to Western assessments, used chemical irritants on multiple occasions, and where the threat of escalation to more lethal agents remains a key element of Russia’s pressure strategy. Training Russian soldiers in CBRN defense with China’s assistance, at a time when these soldiers are deployed in Ukraine, constitutes a direct contribution to Russia’s offensive capability—regardless of the stated intentions behind the training.

What Zelensky Sees from Kyiv

From Kyiv, the interpretation of these developments is crystal clear. Zelensky has repeatedly stated that China is not neutral in this conflict—and that Beijing’s façade of neutrality objectively serves Moscow’s interests. The Reuters scoop merely confirms what Ukrainian intelligence agencies had been sharing with their Western partners for months. What has changed is that the evidence is now sufficiently documented to be published in the international media without risking credible challenge.

Zelensky’s strategic patience toward China is remarkable. He has avoided turning Beijing into a declared enemy, keeping the door open to potential mediation, likely understanding that in a protracted conflict, states that can speak to all parties hold real value. But every revelation like the one from Reuters makes this position harder to maintain publicly—and risks fueling public and parliamentary pressure for a firmer response toward Beijing.

I often think about the weight of Zelensky’s strategic isolation. He is fighting against a Russia backed by China, Iran, and North Korea, with Western allies whose commitment wavers with each election cycle. He maintains a dignity and clarity of vision that few leaders would have managed to preserve under these conditions. The West owes him, at the very least, consistency: calling China out by name when the facts demand it.

What Existing Sanctions Do Not Cover

The EU has already sanctioned Chinese companies identified as suppliers of dual-use components to Russia. But the revelation of direct military training approved at the ministerial level falls outside the scope of trade regulations on dual-use goods. It constitutes government-to-government military cooperation that current trade sanctions instruments are not designed to address. The EU imposes sanctions on Huawei and ZTE for their potential role in sensitive infrastructure—but lacks an equivalent tool to sanction cooperation between generals approved by decree of a third-country’s defense minister.

The European Parliament has adopted resolutions calling for a tougher stance toward China, but the legal tools to implement such a stance remain limited. The European sanctions regime was designed to respond to economic pressure—not to strategic military cooperation between two permanent members of the UN Security Council. Closing this gap would require new legal mechanisms that few member states are currently willing to negotiate.

The Risk of Secondary Sanctions: When Chinese Banks Calculate Their Exposure

The ICDS analysis notes that major Chinese banks have already restricted their direct transactions with Russian counterparties for fear of U.S. secondary sanctions. This is a sign that the threat of costs is very real: when Chinese companies assess their risk exposure, they take into account the potential repercussions on their access to U.S. and European markets. This calculus is one of the few effective levers democracies have at their disposal when dealing with Beijing.

But this leverage requires consistency: secondary sanctions only work if Chinese companies genuinely believe there is a risk of them being enforced. Every time the West hesitates, negotiates exemptions, or delays measures out of commercial concern, it erodes the credibility of this leverage. The Reuters revelation presents an opportunity: if the EU and the United States choose to respond with targeted, specific measures, they will reaffirm that military cooperation with Moscow comes at a real cost. If they fail to do so, Beijing’s calculations will remain unchanged.

I am aware that geopolitics is not black and white and that relations with China involve real compromises. But complicity in a military training program in which some participants have joined the front lines in Ukraine is not an issue that can be treated as a negotiable trade matter. There are lines that must not be crossed. This is one of them.

When the Security Council Becomes a Platform for Lies

There is a cruel irony in the fact that it was precisely at the UN Security Council—the body whose mission is to maintain international peace and security—that the Chinese ambassador chose to deliver his message of peace on June 30, 2026. The institution was founded on the assumption that its permanent members—those with veto power—would act in good faith in times of crisis. Russia violated this assumption on February 24, 2022, by invading Ukraine. China violates it every time it calls for peace while knowing full well what it is doing at its military facilities. The institution survives, but its moral standing is eroding.

The question is not merely whether China supports Russia—the evidence answers that question. The question is why the West continues to participate in the diplomatic ritual as if China’s statements held any informational value. Every joint statement thanking China for its “balanced” position, every meeting where Sun Lei is listened to with unquestioning courtesy, helps legitimize a stance that Reuters has just exposed for what it hides. Diplomatic dignity should not be confused with acceptance of state-sponsored lies.

The precedent this sets for other conflicts

If China succeeds in simultaneously maintaining its status as both a peace mediator and a military facilitator without incurring significant costs, it sets a precedent for any future conflict. Other actors are watching what Beijing is doing and assessing whether the same strategy would be available to them. Iran, which also presents itself as a neutral actor in certain diplomatic forums while supplying drones and missiles to Russia, is following a similar playbook, albeit with less sophistication. The normalization of this dual approach undermines the norms that have historically limited the escalation of conflicts.

For Ukraine and its allies, the danger is not just China itself—it is the weakening of the West’s collective ability to identify and sanction violations of norms. When the response to a secret military exercise approved by ministerial decree is limited to an assessment of the implications by Kaja Kallas, it sends a message that Beijing understands very clearly: the risk of a strong response is low. This perception must change if the West wants to preserve any deterrent value in its norms.

I have no magic formula for exactly what the West should do. But I am convinced that continuing to heed Beijing’s calls for peace without confronting them with evidence of military cooperation with Moscow amounts to choosing short-term diplomatic comfort at the expense of long-term credibility. And that credibility is precisely what Ukraine needs its allies to preserve.

Beijing’s dual approach can no longer be ignored

The two facts established in this post—Ambassador Sun Lei’s call for peace at the UN Security Council on June 30, 2026, and Reuters’ revelation of a secret Chinese military training program for Russian soldiers approved by ministerial decree—are not two pieces of information that cancel each other out. They are two parts of the same policy. Beijing wants both to be recognized as a potential mediator and to continue supporting Moscow militarily. These two objectives are incompatible in a world where words have meaning—but they remain compatible in a world where the major powers agree on a shared diplomatic fiction.

The EU, the United States, and their allies have a responsibility to reject this fiction. Not by declaring a trade war on China—that would be a disproportionate and counterproductive response. But by publicly calling out the contradiction, by calibrating the costs imposed on Beijing for its military cooperation with Moscow, and by ceasing to treat Ambassador Sun Lei’s statements as if they reflected a sincere diplomatic reality. Peace cannot be built on a foundation of state-sponsored lies. And supporting Ukraine also means refusing to pretend that its adversaries are neutral.

This post leaves me with a feeling I recognize all too well: that of the obvious not being enough. The facts are there. The contradiction is documented. Reuters reported it. Kallas confirmed it. And yet, the EU Council deliberates, member states weigh their options, and the diplomatic machine keeps turning as if Ambassador Sun Lei had said something credible. The West does not have a problem with information about China. It has a problem with political will.

By Maxime Marquette, columnist