If you are not paying attention to the dramatic developments between China and the US, you must understand that something consequential has just taken place.

The US government is backtracking — if not altogether retreating — from the trade war and broader escalation it launched against China. Unlike the hyped-up language and repeated threats by President Donald Trump to impose massive “reciprocal tariffs,” to “decouple” the US economy from China and to correct “the greatest theft in the history of the world,” the retreat is happening in hushed tones and coded diplomatic language.

“I think both countries concluded that having an all-out global trade war between the United States and China would be deeply damaging to both sides and to the world,” US Secretary of State Marco Rubio said last week. He called this new phase one of “strategic stability.”

Rubio’s words are misleading. It was not China, or any other country, that instigated the trade war. It began under the first Trump administration’s “America First” doctrine. In March 2018, Trump signed a presidential memorandum clearing the way for tariffs to be imposed on Chinese goods under Section 301 of the Trade Act of 1974. Within three months, 25 percent tariffs were in effect on $34 billion of Chinese imports.

The escalation continued. In September 2018, the US imposedtariffs on an additional $200 billion of Chinese goods — initially at 10 percent, rising to 25 percent in May 2019. The logic was simple: apply sufficient economic pressure to force Beijing into structural concessions on trade practices, intellectual property and industrial policy. China responded in kind.

Though China, due to the massive and remarkable growth of its economy, managed to absorb and counter much of Trump’s economic punishment, the rest of the world struggled to cope with the disrupted supply chains and growing uncertainty. Trump remained defiant. And even after he left office, the tariff architecture remained largely intact.

Not only did the Biden administration refuse to dismantle the tariff regime, but it also intensified it. Beginning in October 2022, Washington imposed sweeping export controls targeting advanced semiconductors and chipmaking equipment destined for China. In May 2024, it followed with additional tariff hikes on Chinese electric vehicles, batteries and solar products.

On the campaign trail ahead of the 2024 election, Trump used even harsher rhetoric, proposing tariffs of up to 60 percent on all Chinese imports. Despite the lack of evidence that such measures are effective, tariffs have continued to serve as a central instrument of policy.

However, Trump’s strategy backfired. A 2019 Federal Reserve analysis found that most tariff costs were borne by US firms and consumers. And a 2026 Federal Reserve Bank of New York studyconfirmed that about 90 percent of the latest tariff burden fell on American businesses and households, effectively functioning as a domestic tax.

Rubio’s “strategic stability” is, of course, code for an admission that the trade war achieved little and that the prospects of decisive success remain dim. This realization is particularly significant ahead of November’s midterm elections. Once again, the economy will be decisive for US voters.

But it would be unfair to suggest that this fiasco is Trump’s alone. As in many issues — political polarization, immigration, unstable job markets and Middle East policy — the attempt to contain or coerce China has become a common denominator across administrations.

As the Obama administration began recognizing the limits — and strategic costs — of the US’ militarized Middle East policies, it introduced the “pivot to Asia,” a shift designed to rebalance US diplomatic, military and economic focus toward the Indo-Pacific. The broader strategy aimed to contain China’s rise and reassert American influence in the region.

Yet, despite years of framing China as the primary strategic challenge and even threat, the US now finds itself expanding its military footprint in the Middle East once again, amid the tensions with Iran and Israeli war in Gaza. Reports suggest the current buildup is the largest since 2003.

This leaves little doubt that the original attempt to pressure China into concessions has fallen short. Beijing remains the largest trading partner for most Asian economies, including close US allies. It has also become a leading economic and energy partner for key Middle Eastern states.

Throughout his election campaigns, Trump made confronting China central to his political message. Yet, after years of angry language, lofty promises, threats and tariffs, the moment we have reached is described as “strategic stability.”

Unable to fundamentally alter China’s trajectory, Washington appears once more drawn into Middle Eastern theaters. Unlike the 1990-91 and 2003 wars in Iraq, however, it is without a clear and widely supported strategic vision.

Meanwhile, Beijing has pursued a disciplined, long-term expansion of its geopolitical reach. For example, in January, China led the “Will for Peace” BRICS+ naval exercises off South Africa, signaling its growing role in security domains traditionally dominated by Western powers. At the same time, it has strengthened its economic networks across Asia, Africa and the Middle East.

Aside from his unique personal style, Trump’s policies reflect a broader paradox shared by multiple US administrations: an inability to define the true center of gravity of American foreign policy, a disproportionate reliance on economic sanctions and military pressure, and a recurring failure to produce lasting stability.

The main hurdle remains Washington’s refusal to acknowledge that the massive shifts reshaping the global geopolitical map are irreversible. No number of aircraft carriers zigzagging between oceans and no escalation in tariffs can undo the structural transformation already underway in Asia, the Middle East and beyond.

© Eurasia Review