September 5, 2025
SEOUL – In this week, China staged back-to-back spectacles of diplomacy in Tianjin and Beijing — a rare global diplomatic show that arrives perhaps once in a decade. The choreography was deliberate, the optics unmistakable: China wanted the world to watch, and the world did.
In Tianjin, the leaders of China, Russia and India — Xi Jinping, Vladimir Putin and Narendra Modi, respectively — appeared together. Such a convergence is unusual in itself; their relaxed smiles were rarer still. Putin, largely isolated since invading Ukraine in 2022, has abruptly reemerged on the world stage. Modi, who seldom attends Shanghai Cooperation Organization summits in person, traveled to China for the first time in seven years.
Beijing followed with an even more extraordinary scene: the leaders of North Korea, China and Russia on the same stage for a Victory Day military parade. It was the first such public alignment of the leaders of the three neighbors in 66 years.
As the host of the rare events, Xi naturally dominated the spotlight.
Putin, Modi and Kim also drew intense attention. Yet the person who loomed largest did not attend either event: US President Donald Trump.
Trump was the elephant in the room, the gravitational force that pulled disparate actors into the same frame. Ever since he launched strategic competition with Beijing in 2018, then reignited a broad tariff war, Trump has cast China as the ultimate adversary while simultaneously penalizing allies and swing states. If the aim is to contain Beijing, coalition-building carrots should outweigh coercive sticks on partners. Instead, Washington has often used both hands at cross-purposes — pressing China with one hand while, through indiscriminate tariffs, pushing pivotal countries closer to Beijing and Moscow with the other.
Xi’s calculus is plain. A crowded stage amplifies Beijing’s presence.
The SCO lets China convene leaders who are alienated by US foreign policies or skeptical of Western preconditions. By floating proposals on regional finance, energy coordination and standards, Beijing frames itself as a guardian of the system, not a spoiler.
That narrative gains traction whenever US policy looks punitive toward partners. None of this makes China’s model more attractive on the merits, but it lowers the political cost for others to engage Beijing on their own terms.
Putin’s reentry into high diplomacy also reflects this moment. Since the International Criminal Court in 2023 issued a warrant for Putin — the first time in history for a UN Security Council permanent member — Moscow’s diplomatic tempo has quickened. Foreign Minister Sergey Lavrov resumed an active itinerary; Putin himself looks emboldened, helped along by his high-profile meeting with Trump in Alaska recently.
The message is clear: Russia is neither isolated nor inert, and it can leverage Asia’s forums to show resilience. Whether that show translates into durable economic relief is another matter, but the optics help stabilize Moscow’s external narrative and complicate Western assumptions that time is on Kyiv’s side.
Modi’s presence in Tianjin likewise speaks to Washington.
Long portrayed as a US partner, India defied the heavy-handed tariffs — especially given its discounted purchases of Russian oil and its desire to diversify energy inflows on sovereign terms. By warmly greeting Putin and Xi, Modi sent a precise signal: Excessive US pressure pushes India to search for alternatives.
That does not necessarily mean New Delhi is abandoning the Quad or Western ties. It means India will pursue multialignment — tightening with the United States in some domains while hedging in others — until Washington offers a pathway that respects India’s growth priorities rather than policing them.
Kim’s appearance is similarly entwined with Trump’s choices. North Korea is immune to tariff pressure as there is no trade with the US, but it can profit from the turbulence.
Kim has long sought to build anti-US solidarity with China and Russia, and today’s frustration with tariffs and unilateralism makes it easier for others to rally to his side. At the same time, Kim knows Trump’s appetite for leader-level theatrics. By appearing at high-profile multilateral venues, Kim raises his price — signaling that he can help orchestrate an “anti-US” slogan while keeping open the door to a headline-grabbing summit with Trump again. In Pyongyang’s playbook, these lines are not contradictory; they are leverage.
The scenes from Tianjin and Beijing thus spotlight the contradictions of Trump’s isolationist turn. The United States is not just another country; it is the manager of a world system many actors must use.
Acting like a manager — prioritizing predictability, rule-making and partner welfare — remains in America’s interest and, critically, in others’ convenience. Misreading this truth has real costs: alienating potential partners or allies, encouraging big rivals like China, Russia and India to display showy solidarity, and diluting the credibility of US leadership when steadiness is the product most in demand.
Even so, it would be premature to declare the US-led unipolar era over or to crown a consolidated anti-US solidarity in its place. The current order has endured for more than three decades, and even Beijing, Moscow and New Delhi are deeply enmeshed in its trade, finance, technology and standards. They may resent Washington’s approaches, but abandoning a framework that still delivers liquidity, markets and innovation would be costly. Real multipolarity requires not just design but governance: interoperable rules, credible enforcement and shared finance — none of which yet exist at scale outside US-anchored institutions.
Whether an anti-US bloc materializes depends less on speeches than on duration — specifically, how long Trump’s reckless diplomacy lasts.
The United States will likely feel domestic and international blowback soon and adjust course, reclaiming a steadier hegemonic role. If that correction comes, Washington could even emerge stronger — having learned to balance deterrence with inducement and to anchor an order that others can agree on. In that sense, the spectacles in Tianjin and Beijing may prove less a turning point than a cautionary lesson: proof that when America undermanages the system it built, others will play with it.
But a show is not yet a system. The difference is where the real power still lies.
Wang Son-taek is an adjunct professor at Sogang University. He is a former diplomatic correspondent at YTN and a former research associate at Yeosijae. The views expressed here are the writer’s own. — Ed.