At first glance, it had the staging of an old wartime rendezvous: two leaders moving through guarded grounds, the cameras held at a careful distance, the gardens doing the work of diplomacy before the documents could. One could almost imagine a distant echo of Roosevelt and Churchill, except that this was not an alliance being drafted in the shadow of war.
US President Donald Trump and Chinese President Xi Jinping walked through the rosebushes and manicured paths of Zhongnanhai, the walled leadership compound at the centre of Chinese power. The setting was intimate by the standards of Chinese statecraft, and that was precisely the point. Rare access was itself a message. Trump, admiring the roses and Xi, offering to send over seeds, before they held talks over tea and lunch. However, the beauty of the setting did little to soften the terms of the meeting. Trump had come to Beijing with an overloaded list, flanked by a trillion-dollar business delegation eager for Boeing deals, energy commitments and access for American business. Xi offered courtesy, a whole lot of pleasantries, but wagged the reminder that his positions on Taiwan, technology and strategic autonomy had not moved.
The same sanctions used to squeeze Tehran may now become bargaining chips with Beijing.
Washington has framed the two-day summit as a breakthrough. On his way back home, Trump said he had made “fantastic trade deals” with Xi, and US officials claimed China would buy 200 Boeing aircraft, with the number potentially rising to 750. Meanwhile, US Trade Representative Jamieson Greer said he expected “double-digit billions” in farm purchases over three years.
That Trump needed visible wins for a domestic audience after tariff escalations, market uncertainty and the widening Iran crisis was an open secret. He wanted the headlines to show that his personal diplomacy could extract concessions from America’s largest rival. Standing on the other end, Xi needed to show that China could host an American president without bending to American pressure.
From the looks of it, the summit has produced language, gestures and atmospherics, but not a structural settlement. China’s post-summit statements did not list the specific business deals highlighted by Washington, and Boeing shares fell after investors noted that the reported 200-jet order was below the larger figure markets had expected.
Trump’s walk through Zhongnanhai belongs to a long history of American presidential visits to China. Nixon’s 1972 visit opened the way for diplomatic normalisation. George H W Bush’s 1989 trip was overshadowed by the dissident Fang Lizhi controversy and the gathering tensions that would culminate in Tiananmen. Bill Clinton’s 1998 visit included a televised human rights exchange with Jiang Zemin. Barack Obama’s final visit in 2016 was remembered partly for an awkward tarmac welcome in Hangzhou.
Trump’s own first state visit in 2017 was lavish, with “state visit plus” treatment, a private tour of the Forbidden City and Chinese opera before the trade war began. This second visit was quieter, but not necessarily less consequential.
If 2017 was about spectacle before confrontation, this visit suggested something more deliberate: a grudging return to engagement after both sides tested the costs of escalation. American commentators have noted that Beijing may now see value in “managing” Washington rather than merely resisting it, while Washington appears to recognise that tariffs, decoupling and technology controls have limits.
Iran was supposed to be common ground. Both Washington and Beijing want the Strait of Hormuz open, energy markets steadier, and the conflict contained. But even here, the statements diverged.
The White House said both countries agreed Iran must never have a nuclear weapon. Beijing, nevertheless, exclaimed that the conflict “should never have happened” and called for a political settlement that accommodates the concerns of all parties. The White House also said Xi opposed the militarisation of the Strait of Hormuz and any attempt to charge tolls for its use.
Washington would do well to acknowledge that China is a major buyer of Iranian oil, giving it quiet influence over Tehran and over energy markets. Of course, it can sanction Chinese refiners for purchasing Iranian crude, but Trump has also discussed the possibility of easing sanctions on Chinese companies buying Iranian oil. The same sanctions used to squeeze Tehran may now become bargaining chips with Beijing.
Contrary to what controversy-peddlers would have one believe, the United States is not even close to exhaustion. It still has unmatched financial, military, technological and alliance reach. But those walking its carpeted corridors have begun to read the changing world order.
Expectedly, Taiwan remained the hard boundary. Beijing’s readout said Xi told Trump that Taiwan is the most important issue in China-US relations and warned that mishandling it could lead to clashes or conflict. For now, Trump avoided answering questions about his stance while in Beijing.
That silence will be read closely in Taipei, Tokyo, Seoul, Canberra and Manila. Beijing wants Washington to move from saying it does not support Taiwan independence to a clearer statement of opposition. That may sound semantic, but in diplomacy such shifts are never merely semantic. They shape deterrence, reassurance and alliance confidence. Veteran journalists like Anwar Iqbal view this differently, as according to him, Taiwan is nothing but a counterargument in the ongoing Iran standoff. He believes that an ordinary American does not care much about Washington’s choices in this regard, and thus, Trump’s position does not stand cast in iron.
Beyond the official language, some close China watchers saw a deeper shift. “The United States has started realising that decoupling and de-risking are more harmful for America than they are for China,” said one diplomatic source with a long view of Chinese politics. “Engagement is now being pushed by the US more than by China. Despite Western apprehensions, China has neither supported Russia nor Iran against the West; it wants to mould the existing order slowly to its own advantage.”
That is a useful way to read Beijing’s conduct. China has not openly embraced Iran’s war aims or Russia’s Ukraine war in the way Washington’s hawks often suggest. It has instead sought to benefit from disruption, preserve access to global markets, and present itself as a steady alternative to American coercion.
The summit also offered glimpses into China’s internal political choreography. The same source noted that the handshake line and official staging raised questions about the Communist Party’s internal rankings, particularly the prominence of Cai Qi at Xi’s side.
“Cai Qi is now number two,” the source said.
The visual ranking matters in Chinese politics. In a system where hierarchy is communicated through seating, order of appearance and proximity to Xi, such details are no coincidence
Across Asia, the summit was watched with relief and anxiety. For Japan, any suggestion of a US-China “G2” raises the old fear that Washington and Beijing might manage Asia over the heads of allies. For Taiwan, Trump’s silence after Xi’s warning was perhaps the best possible outcome in the short term, but hardly reassuring in the long term. For India, the summit fed a familiar concern: that an unpredictable Washington may bargain with Beijing while New Delhi recalibrates its own position. India is said to have been adjusting ties with China partly as a hedge against unpredictability in South Asia.
Pakistan reads the visit through a different lens. It borders Iran, depends on imported energy, relies heavily on Chinese finance and infrastructure, and still needs a working relationship with Washington. A US-China bargain over Iranian oil, sanctions, rare earths or technology would not be negotiated with Pakistan in the room, but Pakistan would still live with the consequences. That is the lesson for much of the Global South.
The writer is OpEd Editor (Daily Times) and can be reached at durenayab786 @gmail.com. Shetweets @DureAkram.