Europe after the Failure of the US-China Summit
We are moving neither exclusively in a G2 that governs the world from the top down, nor in a world of middle powers redefining the rules. We are navigating both these worlds, which compete and coexist. A commentary by Nathalie Tocci
The US-China summit has been presented to us through the lens of two superpowers, led by strongmen, deciding the fate of the world, with Europe powerless and excluded.
It is the dominant reading in Italy, common among declared eurosceptics and others, which seeks to pass itself off as neutral analysis but is little more than a self-harming wish — given that, as Italians, we are Europeans. Above all, it is a superficial and misleading reading.
The summit between US president Donald Trump and his Chinese counterpart Xi Jinping brought together the world’s two largest powers, and indeed all the major international issues of the moment were on the agenda: from the Middle East to Taiwan, from trade to artificial intelligence.
It was a summit that highlighted the mutual recognition and respect between the two leaders. Xi undoubtedly appreciated Trump’s flattery, and did not fail to flatter his ego in return.
It was also a summit without surprises.
In sharp contrast with Trump’s usual ramblings and late-night posts, the US president behaved almost like any of his predecessors, sticking scrupulously to the briefing material he had been given. Trump knows full well that a slip-up in China — with inadvertent concessions to Beijing — would have caused him further trouble at home, especially in Congress, and he already has enough of that.
But to stop there and claim that Trump and Xi hold the fate of the world in their hands, with Europe kept on the sidelines, is to miss both what happened in Beijing and the direction in which Europe and the world are moving. It was a summit without concrete outcomes, at least publicly declared ones. There was no trade agreement.
Trump had hoped for a new, spectacular deal made up of Chinese purchases of American Boeing aircraft, soyabeans and gas. Vague promises, yes, but no agreements.
Only a preliminary commitment to launch a Board of Trade between the two countries which, like the imaginary Board of Peace, amounts to little more than Trump’s desire to dismantle the multilateral system.
The fact that these boards are empty and vacuous is irrelevant: what matters is not the pars construens, but the pars destruens of the multilateral system.
It was also a summit that exposed the dramatic relative weakness of the United States. Trump surrounded himself with Silicon Valley tech bros almost as if to underline America’s power — and above all its wealth — compared with China.
But faced with Xi alone, he paradoxically achieved the opposite effect.
Compared with the Trump-Xi summit of his first administration in 2017, we are now in a condition of substantial equilibrium between the two countries, with Trump’s self-harm giving an unexpected acceleration to China’s rise.
Trump obtained no favours on the Middle East. Here too, there were vague Chinese statements on the importance of reopening the Strait of Hormuz, but no concrete commitments.
It is true, conversely, that Trump did not officially give ground on Taiwan: during the summit he announced neither the suspension of two arms sales packages — worth a combined $25bn — to Taipei, nor his own opposition to Taiwanese independence. We do not know, however, whether in private Trump reassured Xi about a possible delay to those orders — if only because those weapons are needed by the US in the Middle East.
What we do know is that, on his return from Beijing, Trump repeated his conviction that Taiwan is too far from America and too close to China to be defended, and that it would not deserve it anyway, having “stolen” the advanced microchip industry from the US. All in all, Xi has little reason to complain about the summit.
In short, nothing came of it: no agreement on trade, technology or the major questions of war and peace. Not to mention the issues that once featured on the bilateral agenda, such as discrimination against the Uyghurs or the status of Hong Kong.
The good news is that the world’s two largest powers know that a direct clash is not in their interests. The bad news is that the G2 is proving incapable of governing the great issues of our time.
Not that Europe is succeeding in doing so, certainly. And yet it is not correct to conclude that it is simply powerless and passive. In Russia’s war against Ukraine, it is Europe that is supporting Kyiv, which by now is largely able to defend itself.
The fear of a collapse of the Ukrainian front has diminished significantly, and this has happened precisely as the US has been disengaging: Washington no longer holds the cards in that conflict.
Unlike in Ukraine, in the Middle East Europeans have certainly not covered themselves in glory in recent years.
And yet, at least now, they are working on a multilateral plan for Hormuz, with a view to a possible end to the conflict. And in the rest of the world, the trade agreements reached with the Latin American countries of Mercosur, as well as with Mexico, India, Indonesia and Australia, offer a picture of Europe different from the impotence so often described.
We are moving neither exclusively in a G2 that governs the world from the top down, nor in a world of middle powers redefining the rules by creating checks and balances. We are navigating both these worlds, which compete and coexist.
A previous version of this article was published by the Italian daily La Stampa
IEP@BU does not express opinions of its own. The opinions expressed in this publication are those of the authors. Any errors or omissions are the responsibility of the authors.
