Cooperative Security, Arms Control and Disarmament By Ramesh Jaura | 06 October, 2025
Can the US Compete with China Without Becoming Like It?

Image: Andy Liu / shutterstock.com
In the escalating rivalry with China, the United States faces a critical risk: undermining its own foundational values to compete. Increasingly, especially under Donald Trump, Washington has begun to adopt methods reminiscent of China — centralised control, coercion, and executive overreach — threatening to blur the democratic distinction that once set America apart.
The debate, then, extends beyond whether the US can contain China's influence. It now hinges on whether America can achieve this without losing its identity as a liberal, democratic, and rule-bound society—without becoming, in effect, what it seeks to counter.
This is the defining challenge of the era: to win the geopolitical contest without forfeiting the moral and systemic contrast that once made Western leadership credible.
The US–China rivalry goes beyond economic or military competition; it pits contrasting governance models against each other.
China's model is state-led: combining authoritarian control, surveillance, managed capitalism, and nationalist pride. America's traditional model has been liberal––democratic: rooted in free markets, independent institutions, civil liberties, and rules-based internationalism.
But under Trump, that American model faces internal stress. Increasingly, democratic processes are giving way to tactics once deemed authoritarian. This shift is deliberate, driven by strategic anxiety, political expedience, and fading ideological energy.
Trump's economic nationalism is a clear departure from decades of US support for open trade. What began as a tariff war with China has evolved into a broader rejection of traditional alliances, including those with strategic partners like India.
India was once a key counterweight to China in the Indo-Pacific. Now it faces American tariffs. India continues to buy discounted Russian oil, which it calls an economic necessity. In response, Trump imposed two rounds of punitive 50 per cent tariffs on Indian steel and related products, worsening ties.
India's Foreign Minister Dr Subrahmanyam Jaishankar has called the policy "unfair, unjustified, and unreasonable." What was once a values-based partnership has become a transactional standoff.
Ashley J. Tellis, former adviser to the US ambassador to India, says the root of this shift is strategic. Trump views China not as a traditional geopolitical rival, but as an economic competitor, alongside the EU, Japan, and India.
"In this vision, India no longer enjoys the priority it once had — it has become a 'problem' along with many others," Tellis explains.
If China is not perceived as a strategic threat, alliances lose significance, and trade partners become competitors.
With this reframing, US foreign policy also undergoes a philosophical shift: diplomacy is no longer rooted in coalition-building but in a series of bilateral contests aimed at immediate wins.
Traditional US allies, such as Japan, Germany, and Canada, are now treated with suspicion. Defence treaties become leverage. Trade becomes punishment. Trust, the core of long-term strategy, is traded for short-term gain.
India, once courted as part of the ‘Quad’ to balance China's Indo-Pacific ambitions, is now being drawn closer to Beijing, rather than being pulled away from it. Modi has resumed diplomatic overtures with Xi Jinping, including travel to Beijing and attendance at the Shanghai Cooperation Organisation summit. This is not about trust—it's about hedging against American volatility.
The irony is striking in trying to isolate China; Trump is isolating the United States.
Perhaps the most emblematic episode in the US's slide toward China-style governance is Trump's campaign against TikTok.
Citing national security concerns, Trump issued executive orders to force the sale of TikTok's US operations to an American firm. He even suggested that the US Treasury should receive a portion of the sale—a move with no precedent in US legal history.
This wasn't a regulation. It was executive coercion.
Trying to contain Chinese influence, Trump mimicked Beijing's tactics. He used political power to shape outcomes, threatened bans, and privileged domestic champions.
China enforces ‘cyber sovereignty’ by blocking foreign apps. Trump used the same logic—by personalistic order, not congressional law. The symbolism was clear: America, long a champion of digital openness, was building its own Great Firewall in red, white, and blue.
This is how the Mirror Trap operates: attempting to protect liberal democracy but ending up echoing the illiberal approaches it aims to counter.
Internally, the Trump administration has undermined the very institutions designed to uphold democratic norms and resolve conflicts peacefully.
The Federal Mediation and Conciliation Service, established in 1947 to manage labour disputes, is being dismantled. The Community Relations Service, born from the Civil Rights Act to mediate racial conflict, is under threat. The United States Institute of Peace, a beacon of nonviolent diplomacy, has been defunded and delegitimised.
These moves signal more than bureaucratic downsizing. They show a governing style that values domination over deliberation. Conflict is to be won, not resolved. Negotiation is a weakness. Compromise is betrayal.
Such a mindset may appear effective in the short term—but it comes at the cost of America's moral and institutional foundation.
The power of the American model never rested on perfection. It rested on contrast—on being visibly, fundamentally different from authoritarian alternatives.
That contrast is now collapsing.
Trump's governance—personalistic, coercive, and unpredictable—echoes the strongman logic of leaders like Xi Jinping or Vladimir Putin: politicising institutions, bullying allies, flattering or threatening adversaries, antagonising the media, criminalising protest, and consolidating executive power.
The West may not be turning into China—but it is borrowing more from Beijing's playbook than it dares to admit.
The fallout is already visible across the Global South.
India, Brazil, and Indonesia now navigate between Washington and Beijing, leveraging both sides.
India buys Russian oil, invests in US tech, and cautiously reengages with China. Brazil welcomes Chinese infrastructure and American capital. Indonesia demands localisation from all investors, regardless of origin.
Consequently, as the American model's distinctions blur, many nations increasingly opt for pragmatism, eroding what was once America's strategic edge.
Avoiding the Mirror Trap requires more than rejecting China's model. It requires recommitting to the principles that once made the West an attractive alternative.
That means:
Governing through laws, not threats. Protecting dissent, not criminalising it. Building alliances, not auctioning them. Regulating tech transparently, not coercively. Upholding diplomacy, not dismantling it.
Only by returning to these foundations can the US challenge China's rise credibly—not just as a rival, but as a model worth choosing.
The US–China rivalry is not just about influence. It is a test of identity.
To compete, the US must stand for more than power. It must demonstrate a vision that strikes a balance between strength and restraint, prosperity and pluralism, and ambition and accountability.
If it abandons that vision for the sake of competition, it may win battles but lose the war for global trust.
The world does not need another China in the global arena.
It needs an America that remains true to its founding identity—an America defined not by imitation, but by integrity and principle. Only then can it lead, inspire, and win the world's trust.
Related articles:
The return of the ugly American (3-minute read)
Donald Trump: Self-proclaimed peacemaker lacking fortune and expertise (3-minute read)
Donald Trump’s overwhelming force/surrender style of negotiation and governing (3-minute read)
Ramesh Jaura is the founding Editor-in-Chief of IDN-InDepthNews; journalist and international affairs analyst with over 60 years of experience in global reportage, specialising in peace, disarmament, and South–North relations..