Diplomacy, when stripped of ceremony and handshakes, is really about leverage. And this week in Kuala Lumpur, Donald Trump appears to have rediscovered the old craft of using pressure to invite cooperation. The US President, now again playing the role of negotiator-in-chief, began his week-long diplomacy tour with ASEAN nations amid high expectations — and low trust.
Trump’s advisers are eager to claim victory. Treasury Secretary Scott Bessant declared that the mere threat of 100% tariffs “brought China back to the negotiating table.” It’s classic Trumpian strategy: escalate, intimidate, then negotiate. The logic is familiar — you shake the tree until the apples fall.
But history reminds us that coercion has a shelf life. America’s reliance on Chinese rare earth minerals — the stuff that powers everything from fighter jets to smartphones — is not a secret. Roughly 70% of the global supply chain runs through China.
That gives Beijing enormous leverage, especially since 78% of the US military-industrial complex depends on those imports. When Trump threatened to double tariffs, Beijing countered by threatening export restrictions. In that high-stakes standoff, both sides blinked.
The result? A tentative one-year deferral of China’s planned export controls. The United States, in turn, will roll back parts of its tariff escalation and extend the current trade truce. No one’s calling it peace — not yet — but it’s a meaningful pause.
Rare earths, real vulnerabilities
If there’s one thing Washington doesn’t like to admit, it’s dependency. For all the talk about decoupling, the American economy remains deeply tied to Chinese manufacturing. Rare earth minerals are a case in point. The irony is painful: the Pentagon’s most sophisticated missile guidance systems rely on materials refined in China’s industrial heartland.
The Chinese leadership understands this asymmetry better than anyone. For years, Beijing has invested in global mining operations — from Congo’s cobalt to Myanmar’s tin— ensuring that its influence runs deep beneath the world’s soil. So when US negotiators celebrate delaying export restrictions, they’re not exactly winning a war; they’re buying time.
Trump’s allies frame the outcome as a diplomatic coup. His critics call it transactional theatre. Perhaps both are right. Trump’s diplomacy has always been improvisational — impulsive yet oddly effective in short bursts. The man thrives on confrontation, but his instinct for deal-making remains intact.
Beyond minerals and tariffs, the Kuala Lumpur talks touched on other simmering issues: agriculture and technology. For US farmers — many of whom have grown restless under collapsing soybean exports — even a symbolic promise from Beijing is political gold. Reports suggest that China agreed to increase soybean purchases, easing domestic pressure on Trump from America’s agricultural heartland.
Then there’s TikTok. The app that once symbolized youth culture and Chinese tech influence is now the latest pawn in a geopolitical chess match. The new deal — finalized, according to US officials — would spin off TikTok into a company majority-owned by American investors.
For Trump, who once threatened to ban the platform outright, it’s a way to claim both victory and vindication. For Beijing, it’s a small concession to preserve larger interests.
Trump and Xi Jinping will meet in person in South Korea for the first time since 2019. This is a planned effort to ease years of tension. Despite their ongoing rivalry, both can gain a lot from this meeting.
Trump wants to come across as a strong negotiator who can control China without causing economic anarchy. Xi, however, desires stability free from humiliation. Trade de-escalation gives China breathing room in the face of a slowing domestic economy and pressure from the US on technology exports.
History offers a cautionary tale. In 1972, Richard Nixon’s visit to Beijing was hailed as the dawn of a new era. But detente did not erase rivalry; it merely redefined it. Similarly, this Trump-Xi thaw might cool the temperature, but it won’t change the underlying physics of competition.
The United States and China are no longer trading partners in the old sense — they are strategic competitors intertwined by necessity.
A fragile framework
To be clear, China’s state media avoided calling it a truce. US officials, for their part, admit that the toughest issues, like intellectual property theft, cybersecurity and technology transfers, remain unresolved.
Still, tone matters in diplomacy. And the tone has shifted. After months of sharp rhetoric and tariff threats, both Washington and Beijing are now speaking the language of “mutual respect.” That phrase signals that both nations are now focused on how to frame this détente.
If history teaches anything, it’s that great-power rivalries rarely end with a signature. They evolve through moments of exhaustion, mutual recognition, and, occasionally, pragmatism. Trump’s team insists that “both China and the United States want to make a deal.” Maybe so. But wanting peace and sustaining it are two very different tasks.
Global powers are now practicing their competition in Southeast Asia, and it is no coincidence that the ASEAN summit in Kuala Lumpur was chosen as the venue.
Malaysia has always been active in ASEAN diplomacy with its “centrality” and views itself as the bridge between the East and the West. Kuala Lumpur’s hosting of these discussions exhibits the idea that minor nations can still have an impact on global politics.
ASEAN nations, for their part, have no desire to pick sides. They benefit from Chinese investment and American security guarantees. Their message to both giants is simple: keep your competition civilized.
Great Game pause
Then the question is not about the agreement that Trump and Xi can reach this week. It is about resisting the gravitational pull of rivalry once they return home. Domestic politics in both countries incentivize confrontation, not compromise. Trump’s base thrives on his “tough on China” image. Xi’s legitimacy rests on national strength and defiance of foreign pressure.
Therefore, despite its optimism, the Kuala Lumpur framework needs to be viewed as a ceasefire rather than a peace treaty. It provides headlines for leaders, breathing room for diplomats, and relief for markets. But beneath the calm surface, the deeper contest continues — over technology, ideology and global influence.
After years of decoupling rhetoric and tariff wars, it can be acknowledged as a small victory. It is not trivial that the world’s two economic superpowers have found a reason to talk again. It’s the diplomatic equivalent of oxygen after smoke.
Still, no one should take a pause for an end. The competition for 21st-century power — from microchips to rare earths to maritime routes — will outlast any single administration or summit. Trump’s meeting with Xi may restore communication, even trust, for a season. But the rivalry between their nations is ultimately structural, not personal.
M A Hossain is a senior journalist and international affairs analyst. He can be reached at: writetomahossain@gmail.com
