The Trump–Xi Summit Will Be About Much More Than Taiwan

President Donald Trump and Chinese President Xi Jinping leave after a bilateral meeting on the sidelines of the Asia-Pacific Economic Cooperation summit in Busan, South Korea, October 30, 2025. (Evelyn Hockstein/Reuters)

While the island’s status is unavoidable, other issues will drive the real deals.

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While the island’s status is unavoidable, other issues will drive the real deals.

T he much-anticipated summit between President Trump and Chinese leader Xi Jinping is finally set to take place after weeks of uncertainty, compressed planning, and geopolitical drama. Originally set for earlier in the year, the meeting was postponed amid escalating tensions in the Middle East — particularly the U.S.–Iran conflict — and was rescheduled only after intense behind-the-scenes coordination. Even now, the summit, scheduled for May 14 and 15, proceeds under a cloud of contingency: The war has not reached a clear resolution, and the visit itself has been shortened to roughly 36 hours, a signal of lowered expectations and constrained ambitions.


Yet the very fact that the meeting will occur, despite war, strategic distrust, and logistical disarray, underscores a deeper reality: U.S.–China relations remain the most consequential bilateral relationship of the 21st century. Washington and Beijing need to engage with one another, if only to prevent escalation and stabilize a relationship that is increasingly defined by competition.

Whenever U.S. and Chinese leaders meet, Taiwan inevitably looms large over the conversation. Indeed, from Beijing’s perspective, Taiwan is not merely one issue among many; it is the issue. Chinese Foreign Minister Wang Yi reiterated in a recent call with Secretary of State Marco Rubio that Taiwan concerns China’s “core interests” and is “the biggest risk factor” in bilateral relations.




But here lies a critical distinction often missed in Washington commentary: While Taiwan is unavoidable at the summit, it is not where meaningful deliverables will emerge.

This pattern is not new. In past summits, Taiwan has always been raised by China, often emphatically, yet with few breakthroughs on either side. That is because for both the U.S. and China, Taiwan is structurally nonnegotiable. Beijing demands adherence to the “One China” framework and the continuation of what it sees as American strategic ambiguity. For Washington, reaffirming long-standing positions — the One China policy, opposition to unilateral changes to the status quo, commitment to stability in the Taiwan Strait, and continued arms sales under the Taiwan Relations Act — requires no innovation and entails no concession.

Some observers speculate that Beijing may press Trump to shift U.S. language from “not supporting Taiwan independence” to explicitly “opposing Taiwan independence.” Even if such a shift were made, however, it would amount to little more than rhetorical posturing. In practical terms, it would not bind the United States to enforce such a position militarily or economically should Taiwan move toward formal independence. For that reason, it is unlikely to become a central bargaining chip.


Others fear that a transactional president like Trump might “sell out” Taiwan in exchange for economic concessions or geopolitical recognition of spheres of influence. This, too, is implausible, at least in the context of this summit.

With less than two days on the ground and a volatile Middle East crisis demanding constant attention, Trump is in no position to negotiate, let alone finalize, a grand strategic bargain involving Taiwan. Historically, the United States has abandoned partners under certain circumstances, but Taiwan is not easily comparable. Its role in the Indo-Pacific is central: Geographically, it anchors the first island chain; strategically, it is critical to maritime security and deterrence; and economically, it sits at the heart of global technology supply chains.

That last point deserves emphasis. Taiwan Semiconductor Manufacturing Company produces the overwhelming majority of the world’s most advanced semiconductors — the chips that power everything from smartphones and AI systems to advanced weapons platforms. For the United States, access to these chips is not merely an economic concern but a national security imperative. No rational, interest-driven policymaker, and certainly not one as attuned to economic leverage as Trump, would lightly jeopardize that.


That said, transactional logic does operate at the margins. If Beijing offers a sufficiently attractive package, for instance, of large-scale purchases of American goods such as Boeing aircraft, soybeans, and beef, Trump may well consider delaying certain arms sales to Taiwan. As a matter of fact, previously planned weapons packages have been slowed. And in a moment when U.S. military supply is strained by commitments in the Middle East, the recurrence of such a decision would not be surprising.

And this brings us to the real core of the summit: supply chain security and trade stability.


The clearest evidence lies in the preparatory communications between senior officials. On one track, the Rubio–Wang Yi conversation focused on familiar political talking points — Taiwan, strategic stability, and mutual respect. On another, more substantive track, Treasury Secretary Scott Bessent and Chinese Vice Premier He Lifeng engaged in detailed discussions on economic and trade issues.

These discussions point directly to where deliverables will emerge.

Both sides are actively assembling leverage ahead of the summit. Washington has intensified pressure through a series of measures: sanctions related to Iranian oil trade, new restrictions by the Federal Communications Commission that affect Chinese technology firms, and a fresh round of export controls targeting China’s access to advanced semiconductor equipment. The U.S. Commerce Department has even ordered suppliers to halt shipments of certain tools to Chinese chipmakers.

Beijing, for its part, has responded not only with protests but with strategic positioning. China has emphasized its dominance in critical minerals, including rare earths essential to modern manufacturing and defense systems, and has tightened export controls in this sector. This is not merely economic policy; it is leverage in a broader negotiation over supply chain resilience.


This dynamic — “asking a high price, settling for a compromise” — defines the bargaining space. Tariffs, export controls, procurement commitments, and market access are all in play. Both sides appear inclined to preserve the existing truce while seeking incremental gains.

Another potential area of deliverables lies beyond bilateral trade: global conflict management. Trump has repeatedly expressed a desire for China’s assistance in ending major conflicts such as the war in Ukraine and, more urgently, in cooling tensions with Iran. From the president’s perspective, China has both the influence and the incentive to help.

Beijing’s position is more complex. On one hand, China benefits strategically from a United States distracted by Middle Eastern turmoil. On the other, it has significant economic exposure to the region. China remains a major buyer of Iranian oil, and prolonged instability — particularly any sustained disruption of the Strait of Hormuz — would threaten its energy security and broader economic interests. While China has taken steps to mitigate these risks through stockpiling and diversification, it ultimately shares Washington’s interest in keeping key maritime routes open.




This convergence creates a narrow but real opportunity for cooperation, and thus for deliverables.

None of these outcomes, however, amounts to the “grand bargain” often imagined in advance of such summits. If there is a meaningful long-term achievement to be had, it lies elsewhere: in institutionalizing the summit process itself. Establishing a mechanism for regular leader-level engagement may prove to be the most consequential result.

It is within such a framework, not a single hurried visit, that larger deals could eventually take shape — including, perhaps, discussions of spheres of influence.


And it is only at that point, if the United States and China were to move toward mutual recognition of regional dominance, that Taiwan would truly become a negotiable object. For now, however, Taiwan remains what it has long been: central to rhetoric, peripheral to deliverables.

Jianli Yang is a former political prisoner of China and survivor of the Tiananmen Square massacre, and a columnist for National Review.
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