As the West finds common cause, China prepares for the worst
Mid-July should have been a moment of quiet satisfaction in Beijing. Fresh data showed China’s favourability surpassing that of the United States in 25 of 37 nations surveyed by Pew Research Centre, including key European countries. Domestically, the second-quarter gross domestic product growth of 4.3 per cent, while softer than the first financial quarter, kept the annual target within reach. The logic was simple: with the US distracted by Donald Trump’s erratic trade wars and isolationist...
Mid-July should have been a moment of quiet satisfaction in Beijing. Fresh data showed China’s favourability surpassing that of the United States in 25 of 37 nations surveyed by Pew Research Centre, including key European countries. Domestically, the second-quarter gross domestic product growth of 4.3 per cent, while softer than the first financial quarter, kept the annual target within reach. The logic was simple: with the US distracted by Donald Trump’s erratic trade wars and isolationist rhetoric, Beijing could court a more autonomous European Union, stabilise its two largest export markets and project an image of reliable global leadership. Instead, events this month delivered a stark reminder that the West’s fractures are less deep than Beijing hoped. On July 13, the European Union’s 27 foreign ministers quietly adopted a strategy paper marking a qualitative shift in Brussels’ posture. Drafted by the EU’s External Action Service, the document casts China and Russia as the two principal revisionist powers seeking to “reshape the global order”. The label moves Beijing out of the “partner-competitor-rival” triad and into a category Brussels once essentially reserved for Moscow. The disconnect between Beijing’s expectations and Western realities is striking. Since late 2025, Beijing has rolled out the red carpet for a string of leaders of US allied countries, from Spanish Prime Minister Pedro Sanchez to French President Emmanuel Macron, betting transatlantic fissures could be pried open. January alone saw then UK prime minister Keir Starmer become the first British head of government in eight years to be received by Beijing, as well as the visit of Canadian Prime Minister Mark Carney, who swapped canola levy reductions for a removal of electric vehicle (EV) tariffs. The playbook: bank visits from America’s closest allies, wedge transatlantic ties and pitch Beijing as stable alternative to chaotic Washington. Compounding this, Trump accused China of orchestrating “the largest compromise of election data in history” last week, a claim Beijing blasted as “unfounded smears”. An intelligence community assessment released in 2021 said there was no evidence China had interfered with the technical conduct of the 2020 election. However, the recently released records show debate within the community over whether Beijing’s data-gathering constituted influence operations. With midterm elections looming and the Iran blockade dragging on, Trump’s scapegoating fits a pattern of blaming Beijing for his domestic policy stumbles and the Iran quagmire. For Beijing, the episode underscores deeper frustration: the May summit in Beijing, where Trump toasted “constructive strategic stability” with Chinese President Xi Jinping, now looks a fleeting photo-op, not a durable foundation. The economic stakes are high. The EU remains China’s second-largest trading partner after the Association of Southeast Asian Nations. Beijing posted a US$410 billion goods surplus with the EU in 2025, one that Brussels wants addressed by October. EU policies such as cutting duty-free steel quotas by 47 per cent and the 2024 final EV anti-subsidy duties signal Brussels’ readiness to act. Beijing’s consultation mechanisms offer and market access tweaks may fall short if political moods harden, especially with growth slowing and retail sales up just 1 per cent in June, leaving less fiscal room to absorb external shocks. Geopolitically, Beijing’s options are constrained. Russia’s war in Ukraine grinds on, limiting Beijing’s ability to distance itself from Moscow without alienating a key partner. Iran adds a front where US-EU strained coordination coalesces around shared threat perceptions. The EU’s sharper framing reflects accumulation over a single trigger: Brussels now reads the visit blitz as wedge-play, Washington leans on the EU pre-midterm to align and Beijing’s refusal to offer Ukraine daylight has narrowed the space for the “autonomous Europe” Beijing banked on. Trump’s volatility means even personal diplomacy cannot shield ties from domestic cycles. His threats to escalate economic coercion cohere with the “Bessent Doctrine” outlined by US Treasury Secretary Scott Bessent: economic statecraft as a permanent tool, weaponising tariffs and supply chains, leveraging the dollar system as durable US statecraft. Transatlantic tactics differ – Brussels uses trade remedies and diplomatic framing; Washington wields tariffs and dollar leverage – but the underlying narrative convergence should worry Beijing. Yet Beijing retains leverage. The Pew data indicates growing global scepticism of US leadership. China’s infrastructure investments, climate commitments and consumer markets still appeal to nations seeking alternatives. Concessions are there to be offered: binding commitments on EV pricing and expanded European access to healthcare and financial sectors are cheaper than a trade war, and keep Brussels engaged. The sheer volume of trade – over US$900 billion in EU-China goods trade last year – means Brussels cannot afford a complete rupture, even as it hardens its security rhetoric. The challenge is translating these assets into diplomatic capital before October’s EU deadline and the November US midterms narrow the window further. For now, Beijing’s mantra is “prepare for the worst”. A planned Trump–Xi summit later this year may yet yield tactical stabilisation, but the strategic environment has darkened. The EU’s security framing, the US’ institutionalised economic coercion and the absence of a clear endgame in Ukraine or Iran suggest a prolonged friction. Beijing’s hope that transatlantic discord would create space for Chinese leadership now confronts a West finding common cause – however reluctantly – in treating Beijing as a long-term rival. This summer may not be the inflection point Beijing envisioned, but it is a reminder that in great-power competition, patience and pragmatism often matter more than headlines. As the midterms approach and Brussels tightens its stance, Beijing’s ability to manage these cross-currents will define not just its global standing but its domestic stability.
