By SHEN Shiwei
The idea of a Yalta 2.0 is incompatible with the open connectivity and multi alignment that China has long pursued.
Moreover, across successive crises – from the Kosovo War to the Russia-Georgia conflict to Crimea – China has consistently refused to recognize any unilateral changes to territorial status or declarations of independence.
Even now, as discussions emerge about the possibility of the United States formally recognizing Crimea as part of Russia, China’s commitment to Ukraine’s sovereignty and territorial integrity has not changed – and there is little reason to believe it will in the future.
The concept of a redux of the 1945 Yalta Conference has resurfaced in current global discourse.
In the aftermath of President Donald Trump’s dramatic reversal of United Sates policy on the war in Ukraine and broader relations with Russia – alongside his combative stance toward traditional allies over issues of territory, resources, tariffs, and what he deems “protection payments” for security – some analysts argue that the postwar liberal order is giving way to a renewed era of great power bargaining over spheres of influence.
Some have argued that if the leaders of the United States, Russia, and China were to reach an informal understanding that privileges power politics over ideological differences, they would, in essence, be reenacting Yalta – determining the sovereignty and political future of smaller states by dividing up their respective neighborhoods.
From the perspective of Washington’s policy establishment, Beijing appears to have little reason to oppose such a restructuring.
A Yalta 2.0-style order would offer China a seat at the table – an opportunity to shape the global agenda on an equal footing with the United States.
China’s deepening strategic trust and coordination with Moscow would further reinforce its influence within this emerging framework.
Moreover, Trump’s proclivity for transactional diplomacy and his apparent comfort with restoring spheres of influence could allow Beijing to entrench its dominance in the Asia-Pacific.
In theory, this might even provide a rare window to address some core interests.
Drawing on the precedent of Russia-U.S. negotiations over Ukraine, some analysts have envisioned major grand bargains between Beijing and Washington – encompassing Taiwan, the South China Sea, and other core interests.
But Beijing’s response would be far more cautious. In practice, China is likely to view the prospect of a Yalta 2.0 not as an opportunity, but as a source of instability and strategic ambiguity.
Far from offering a clear pathway to resolve issues at the heart of its national interests, the Yalta 2.0 vision evokes a world of volatile, unregulated power plays – one in which even short-term gains may come at the cost of long-term predictability and legitimacy.
Replacing Values with Equivalent Exchange
The Trump administration has redefined the foundations of U.S. foreign policy by discarding liberal internationalism in favor of transnationalism.
Trump’s vision of “America First” reshaped alliances into negotiable commodities and reframed global governance as a constraint on U.S. sovereignty.
This framework – what might be termed a logic of equivalent exchange – targets both adversaries and allies; strategic partnerships are only sustainable if partners provide tangible returns.
From NATO burden-sharing to bilateral trade imbalances, Trump approaches foreign policy through a lens of conditional loyalty and reciprocity.
His suggestions to buy Greenland or consider military expansion in Canada were not merely rhetorical provocations, but extensions of a geopolitical logic where territory, influence, and resources are all up for negotiation.
Russia found much to welcome in this U.S. foreign policy turn
The undermining of transatlantic solidarity, the weakening of NATO’s collective mission, and the abandonment of normative consistency all serve Moscow’s interests. But even as Russia hoped for a disordered West, Beijing saw risks.
A fragmented Western order increases strategic uncertainty.
If the global system is driven by narrow bargains rather than universal norms, China’s own interests – such as sovereign equality, non-interference, and development rights – become vulnerable to similar transactional logic.
More importantly, China’s historical experience as a semi-colonial state, as well as the centrality of the Taiwan question for its national identity, leaves little room for ambiguity when it comes to issues of sovereignty and territorial integrity.
For Beijing, these are not negotiable interests but existential red lines. Across successive crises – from the Kosovo War to the Russia-Georgia conflict to Crimea – China has consistently refused to recognize any unilateral changes to territorial status or declarations of independence.
Even now, as discussions emerge about the possibility of the United States formally recognizing Crimea as part of Russia, China’s commitment to Ukraine’s sovereignty and territorial integrity has not changed – and there is little reason to believe it will in the future.
The Illusion of Spheres of Influence
Trump’s foreign policy also marked a return to the concept of spheres of influence – a departure from the liberal institutionalism of the post-Cold War era.
In place of a rules-based order, Trump emphasizes a multipolar system of hardened blocs, in which power, not norms, defines legitimacy.
His embrace of grand bargaining signals a shift away from institutional constraints toward personalized summitry and top-down diplomacy.
Like China, Russia has positioned itself as a staunch advocate of a multipolar world in its external discourse. But a critical distinction lies in how Moscow interprets multipolarity.
For the Kremlin, the concept is inseparable from the assertion of a privileged sphere of influence in the post-Soviet space – a geopolitical zone Moscow views not merely as its neighborhood, but as a vital extension of Russia’s historical and strategic identity.
Russia’s version of multipolarity often serves as a rationale for restoring a degree of regional dominance lost after the collapse of the Soviet Union.
Whereas China’s global vision emphasizes institutional reform, economic connectivity, and state sovereignty, Moscow prefers to reclaim status through the reconstitution of influence in its immediate periphery.
Beijing, however, remains skeptical of any geopolitical model that treats Asia as a sphere to be bargained over. China’s strategic and economic rise are predicated not on regional containment but on global integration.
A return to exclusive zones of influence risks triggering regional backlash, legitimizing containment strategies, and reducing China’s capacity to promote an equal and orderly multipolar world.
The idea of a Yalta 2.0 is incompatible with the open connectivity and multi-alignment that China has long pursued.
Beijing’s influence grows when its regional partners are economically linked to a wider global system in which China plays a central role – not when those partners are locked into rigid geopolitical blocs.
Indeed, any attempt to assert a coercive or exclusionary presence in Asia would not only undercut Beijing’s soft power, but also contradict its longstanding argument against U.S.-led containment and bloc politics.
For China, regional leadership must be compatible with an open global order.
The alternative – a Yalta-style division of the world into spheres of influence – would undermine the very conditions that have enabled China’s rise, and risk isolating Beijing from the global institutions it seeks to influence.
Unlike the Western Hemisphere, where the United States faces relatively few unresolved historical disputes, Asia remains entangled in a complex web of lingering legacies.
The division of the Korean Peninsula – a direct consequence of Soviet-U.S. rivalry – has yet to be resolved.
The South China Sea disputes can be traced back to Japanese imperial expansion and postwar arrangements, later intensified by Cold War dynamics.
Long-standing tensions between India and Pakistan, the protracted crisis in Afghanistan, and numerous territorial and maritime disputes continue to shape the region’s geopolitical landscape.
For regional states, any perceived great power dealmaking over spheres of influence is viewed not as a solution, but as a poisonous fruit.
It is precisely this historical and geopolitical context that has given rise to a distinctive form of strategic balancing in Asia, often anchored in ASEAN centrality.
Rather than aligning with any single great power, many Asian nations have pursued a policy of equidistance – leveraging major power competition to secure their own security and development interests.
Treating Asia as a strategic “backyard” or exclusive sphere of influence would run counter to these diplomatic principles.
It would also impose strategic burdens rather than confer strategic advantages. Such a posture is not only ideologically inconsistent but practically untenable.
The ideological dimension of a Yalta 2.0 is also problematic for Beijing
Trump’s conservative revival – marked by disdain for globalism, multilateralism, and progressive values – mirrors the ideological posture increasingly embraced by the Kremlin.
Vladimir Putin’s notion of healthy conservatism emphasizes nationalism, cultural continuity, and resistance to secular liberalism.
At the same time, both leaders have expressed admiration for Europe’s ascendant right-wing forces – those who prioritize national interest above supranational commitments.
While this convergence may appear tactically appealing to some, it masks deep contradictions. China’s political model is not anchored in cultural or religious traditionalism, nor does it exhibit a messianic impulse to reshape the world in its own image.
China prioritizes policy outcomes over ideological purity, all under the unifying framework of “socialism with Chinese characteristics.”
Beijing does not concern itself with the traditional left-right ideological spectrum; it is far more focused on what works in practice.
Furthermore, the return of conservatism in Western politics risks fueling anti-China sentiment – especially when framed as resistance to globalization or technological penetration. In this context, a right-wing coalition around a Yalta 2.0 may offer rhetorical solidarity, but not structural alignment.
The China-Russia-U.S. Triangle
One of the core strategies promoted by anti-China hawks in Washington has been a reverse Nixon approach: to soften relations with Russia – including brokering a ceasefire in Ukraine – in order to pull Moscow onto the policy track of containing China.
While this Cold War-era logic has repeatedly run into geopolitical realities, Trump himself has shown little aversion to experimenting with a triangular balance among the United States, China, and Russia.
In this framework, Washington would offer Moscow more generous concessions than expected on the Ukraine front – such as easing sanctions and facilitating the reentry of U.S. firms into the Russian market – in exchange for strategic neutrality in the broader China-U.S. rivalry.
The goal would be to reduce Russia’s overdependence on China in trade, finance, and technology, thereby loosening the Sino-Russian alignment without demanding a formal break.
For Moscow, such a triangular dynamic is not inherently unwelcome. The Kremlin has long shown interest in trilateral dialogues, particularly on issues such as strategic stability and arms control.
A Russia-U.S. détente, especially if centered on a negotiated outcome in Ukraine, could prompt a significant reordering of Washington’s strategic calculus.
Future iterations of the U.S. National Security Strategy may elevate China as the singular top-tier challenger, marking a shift from dual-front competition to a more concentrated strategic posture.
For China, however, the implications of this triangular logic are profoundly ambivalent.
On one hand, it offers a potential wedge to disrupt the Biden-era containment architecture and fracture adversarial coalitions.
On the other hand, it carries the risk of marginalization in critical regions – particularly if Moscow begins tilting toward Washington in energy cooperation, security partnerships, or financial flows.
In theory, Beijing should remain open to trilateral formats.
In practice, such a dynamic could draw China into a zero-sum framework that erodes its strategic autonomy and undercuts its preferred model of flexible, multipolar engagement.
Strategic Dilemma or Trap?
For Beijing, the duality of the Yalta 2.0 model presents a complex strategic dilemma.
On the one hand, Trump’s openness to direct dialogue with leaders in Moscow and Beijing may offer opportunities and provide space for China to advance its interests through selective bargaining.
On the other hand, any framework that divides the world into exclusive zones risks legitimizing anti-China alignments in the Indo-Pacific.
Beijing must therefore engage selectively, exploit fractures in anti-China coalitions, and avoid endorsing the Yalta 2.0 concept.
Second, the speculative nature of the Yalta 2.0 agenda affects the rhythm of China-Russia cooperation.
As Moscow anticipates renewed engagement with Washington, it may reduce its economic dependence on Beijing.
Indeed, Chinese car exports to Russia fell sharply in early 2025 – passenger vehicles by 48 percent.
Overall bilateral trade declined by 7.1 percent. This reflects Russia’s renewed efforts to diversify suppliers, fearing over-reliance on China amid shifting Western postures.
China must therefore seize the current window to solidify long-term infrastructure cooperation, especially in energy, logistics, and digital platforms.
A Eurasian corridor of strategic depth, rooted in mutual recognition of strategic assets, is crucial to weathering future cycles of volatility.
Third, and most importantly, the exclusive nature of a Yalta 2.0 threatens to widen the identity gap between China and the Global South.
Framing global order as a pact among great powers would contradict China’s commitment to equality, multipolarity, and a shared future.
Beijing must respond by reaffirming its commitment to multilateralism – particularly through platforms like BRICS and the Shanghai Cooperation Organization – and by opposing great power determinism at key diplomatic milestones, such as the 80th anniversaries of the end of World War II and the founding of the United Nations in 2025.
The allure of a Yalta 2.0 is understandable in an age of disorder. It promises clarity, hierarchy, and decisive leadership. But its logic is flawed.
It ignores the complexity of today’s interconnected world, the aspirations of emerging powers, and the volatility of domestic politics in every major capital.
For China, the real task is not to join a tripartite condominium, but to navigate around it – preserving strategic autonomy, deepening practical partnerships, and reinforcing inclusive norms.
In doing so, Beijing reaffirms that the future of global order lies not in great-power bargains, but in shared responsibility and sovereign equality.
The 1945 Yalta Conference had a profound impact on the current state of peace and conflict in the world. It not only eradicated fascism and militarism but also established the postwar international order centered around the United Nations.
However, China’s historical scars remain. In addressing the Far Eastern question, the Yalta Conference sacrificed Chinese interests in exchange for Soviet military intervention in Northeast China after the conclusion of the European theater, while the three major powers privately delineated their respective spheres of influence and territorial boundaries in Europe.
As a former victim of the Yalta system, Beijing cannot accept such a reversal of roles, let alone return to a world where great powers redraw spheres of influence and carve up the interests of other nations.
For China, a Yalta 2.0 is neither necessary nor desirable. It undermines the multilateral, inclusive order that China has long championed and threatens to replace institutional legitimacy with imperial nostalgia.
While Washington and Moscow may explore bilateral accommodations in a time of shifting global alignments – especially under the disruptive leadership style of Donald Trump – Beijing remains wary of any order built on exclusive great power settlements.
Not only does the Yalta 2.0 discourse reflect regressive geopolitics rooted in Cold War logic; it also risks destabilizing China’s long-term economic, diplomatic, and security interests.
Thus, both from the standpoint of fundamental principles and practical interests, the Yalta 2.0 is not a viable option for Beijing.