Daniel Wagner
As Donald Trump’s confrontational diplomacy once again unsettles America’s allies, Beijing senses opportunity. Xi Jinping has moved quickly to court leaders who feel bruised, sidelined, or openly antagonized by Washington. From Canada to South Korea to capitals across Europe, governments that once relied reflexively on the United States are reassessing their diplomatic posture—not because they trust China, but because they are searching for ballast in a suddenly unstable world.
Xi is betting that resentment is a powerful lubricant in international politics. Public humiliations, tariff threats, and transactional alliances have left many US partners feeling uneasy. Beijing’s message to them has been carefully calibrated: China is stable, predictable, respectful of sovereignty, and committed to dialogue. Compared with the volatility emanating from Washington, China presents itself as the adult in the room.
But this charm offensive should not be confused with transformation. China has not changed its character. It has merely refined its tactics. At home, the Chinese system has become more repressive: Political dissent is criminalized, civil society is suffocated, and digital surveillance has reached unprecedented scale. In Xinjiang, coercive assimilation continues under the euphemism of “stability maintenance”. In Hong Kong, promised autonomy has been hollowed out through legal and political pressure. None of this has softened in any way with time or with changes in leadership outside of China.
The Chinese Communist Party’s (CCPs) behavior remains consistently coercive. It uses trade as leverage, punishing countries that cross political red lines. It weaponizes market access, tourism flows, and regulatory scrutiny to impose costs on those who displease it. Its maritime posture in the South China Sea continues to disregard international legal rulings, and its military pressure on Taiwan grows more frequent and worryingly assertive.
Xi’s outreach to disenchanted leaders is therefore not an olive branch; it is a wedge. The goal is not partnership in the Western sense but leverage—splitting alliances, weakening coordination, and reframing China as the indispensable alternative to an unreliable US.
For countries such as South Korea, the dilemma is acute. Security depends heavily on Washington, while economic exposure to China is deep and unavoidable. When US rhetoric becomes erratic or punitive, Beijing steps in with soothing language about regional stability and mutual respect—while quietly reminding Seoul where its supply chains and export markets run. Canada, too, has learned how quickly trade disputes can turn political when the CCP decides to apply pressure, even as Beijing presents itself as a preferable interlocutor than Washington.
Europe’s situation is more complex but no less vulnerable. Frustration with American unilateralism has revived old debates about “strategic autonomy”. China eagerly encourages these conversations, portraying itself as a pillar of multilateralism and a supporter of global institutions. Yet Europe’s experience tells a different story: uneven market access, forced technology transfer, industrial subsidies, and political influence operations that exploit open societies while China’s own system remains closed.
The danger for disaffected US allies is not that they will suddenly align with Beijing, but that irritation with Washington will dull their judgment about Beijing. China does not need converts; it needs hesitation. Every pause in transatlantic or Indo-Pacific coordination is a win. Every equivocation about values, rules, and reciprocity advances the CCP’s long-term objective of reshaping the international order in its favor.
This is where perspective matters. Trump’s approach—brash, transactional, and often dismissive of allies—may have created diplomatic openings for China, but those openings do not alter the underlying reality of Chinese power. Beijing’s system is still fundamentally hostile to liberal norms, intolerant of political pluralism, and comfortable using coercion to achieve strategic objectives. A polite tone does not change that. Nor does a temporary alignment of interests born of shared irritation with Washington.
For allied governments, the task is to separate tactical grievance from strategic judgment. Being bullied by one partner does not make another benign. Nor does frustration with US leadership justify any illusions about China’s intentions. Engagement with Beijing may be necessary, even unavoidable, but it should be grounded in realism rather than resentment.
The deeper lesson is for the US itself. Alienating allies does not merely weaken American influence; it creates space for competitors who are far less committed to a rules-based order. When Washington treats alliances as burdens rather than assets, it hands China (and other US foes) a gift they did nothing to earn.
China’s current courtship of disenchanted leaders is opportunistic, not transformative. It exploits anger without resolving risk. The world should not mistake Beijing’s smile for a change of heart. China remains what it was before Trump—and will remain so long after: a disciplined, malevolent authoritarian power determined to bend global norms to its advantage. The challenge for democracies is not choosing between Washington and Beijing in a moment of irritation, but remembering which system they ultimately trust to shape the world they want to live in.
Daniel Wagner is CEO of Country Risk Solutions, MD of Multilateral Accountability Associates, and co-author of The New Multilateralism.