China Flips the Script on Trump

A so-called “win” in Busan turns out to be a history lesson in power — where Beijing schooled Washington in strategy, and the media mistook theatre for triumph

It wasn’t that long ago when America stood as the undisputed global powerhouse - a fearsome economic and military ogre. There was nothing the US wanted that it couldn’t get, bend, or manipulate. Getting its way was the American way - coercion, bullying, and standover tactics. That was the America of a time gone by.

Life and geopolitics are, in an odd way, joined at the hip - bound by a bizarre umbilical cord of dependence. It’s what sustains both and makes the evolution of empires so fascinating: their rise and inevitable fall.

America is in rapid decline. The desperation it’s shown, particularly since Trump’s return to office - with its incoherent diplomacy, erratic tariffs, and military skirmishes across almost every corner of the world - reflects a one-time superpower trying in vain to command a world that no longer listens.

In its struggle to preserve the dominance it once enjoyed, America has instead pushed much of the world away. New economic blocs are forming - BRICS, the Shanghai Cooperation Organisation, and others - signalling a realignment of global power. The US has come to recognise, however reluctantly, that it’s no longer the unstoppable force it once was but a withering vine clinging to the remnants of past glory. A multipolar world is here to stay, and the US is reluctant to understand it no longer wields the power it once did.

America is desperate - and that desperation seeps through everything it does, from foreign policy to trade wars, as it tries to mask the erosion of its global influence.

This week, Trump met with China’s President Xi - a meeting that humbled Trump and revealed who was really “the boss.” But Trump, in his typical spectacle of diplomatic theatrics, declared the meeting an “amazing” success — a bold claim broadcast aboard Air Force One.

Journalist for The Australian, Will Glasgow, hailed the gathering as a diplomatic triumph. What Glasgow calls victory was, in truth, a strategic setback for America - rotten eggs served up by Beijing. It wasn’t a moment of US dominance.

Glasgow portrays the encounter as unequivocally positive: a trade deal, relief of Beijing’s chokehold on rare earths, and a warming of the bilateral relationship. His piece paints a scenario of US leverage finally prevailing. But that reading is geopolitical fantasy, not hard reality.

The substance of the “deal” remains opaque. Trump claimed China would make “tremendous” purchases of US soybeans, crack down on fentanyl precursors, and loosen its rare-earths export stranglehold. However, the official Chinese communiqué merely noted that “follow-up work” was required — without confirming any of the ambitious commitments Trump and, in turn, Glasgow touted. Lofty headline talk, zero binding agreement. Portraying it as a win is premature at best, wishful propaganda at worst.

Glasgow fails to recognise that China has flipped the script - the US is on the back foot. Rather than dictating terms, it found itself negotiating a truce on Beijing’s timeline, including the deferral of China’s rare-earth export limits, as Trump himself announced. That deferral is not surrender in name but capitulation in effect.

The narrative of US strength is hollow when Washington must beg for relief from a chokehold of its own making. Moreover, the fact Australia’s premier rare-earth miner saw its shares drop despite Trump’s glowing comments underscores market scepticism.

Glasgow privileges the optics of friendly handshake politics and tones of amicability but ignores the deeper structural truth: this meeting represents China’s rise as a peer and the U.S. shift from global hegemon to negotiating partner. China set the terms; the U.S. accepted them. That is the opposite of a win.

Glasgow leans on the personal rapport between Trump and Xi - quoting Trump’s gushing praise and Xi’s warm references to “partners and friends.” But personal chemistry doesn’t equate to strategic substance. Xi Jinping is playing a long game while Trump, and by extension Glasgow, engage in photo-op diplomacy. Beijing won’t be fooled by cracking jokes or business-trip promises.

The article downplays Taiwan entirely - Trump admitted it “never came up” in the meeting. The omission is itself meaningful: Taiwan is the most consequential security flashpoint in US–China relations. The absence of discussion suggests the US is failing to assert its traditional red line. That silence isn’t a sign of diplomatic maturity, as Glasgow implies, but of strategic drift.

Glasgow’s confidence that the US has broken China’s grip on rare earths ignores three critical realities: China retains its dominant supply-chain position in critical minerals; the deferral of export restrictions is temporary and contingent; and US policy remains reactive and disorganised. He ignores how Beijing might use the deal to lull Western competitors into complacency while quietly reinforcing its advantage.

Trump’s announcement aboard his returning flight - that he had instructed the Pentagon to begin nuclear-weapons testing “on an equal basis” with China and Russia - was a bellicose gambit coinciding with the meeting. Yet Glasgow treats the latter as a handshake moment, ignoring the former as symptomatic of chaotic US policymaking. That is not strength; it’s incoherence.

Glasgow’s commentary may resonate with those nostalgic for US dominance, but it fails to engage with the sober reality that America is being outpaced and outgunned in global leverage. The theatre of “friendship” masks a deeper power transition — of which this meeting is merely one episode. Trump may have struck a pose; China has taken the action.

This wasn’t a triumphal moment but a teachable one. Trump’s photo-op with Xi pales when measured against the implications of Beijing calling the shots. The rare-earths deal is speculative. The purchase pledges are unverified. Taiwan was omitted. US nuclear sabre-rattling made an appearance. China’s narrative more subtly prevailed - even if not proclaimed.

Glasgow’s piece, then, should be read for what it is: an example of geopolitics draped in optimism but lacking rigorous strategic inspection. It swims in the high tides of diplomatic hype rather than sinking into the undercurrents of structural change. It’s ill-informed, misguided rubbish - dreamt up on the highs of geopolitical ignorance and fantasy.

For Australia and other regional US allies, the stakes are real. Trump may bask in the “scale of 0 to 10” bravado where he gave a “12,” but who is really in the driver’s seat?

In this meeting, the answer’s clearer than Glasgow allows - China. The US has learned a history lesson: privilege isn’t reclaimed by posturing, but by planning.