Wang Yi Betrays Xi, Chooses Another Side? China’s Foreign Policy U-Turn

China Insider
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49 Video Views·Aug 1, 2026
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On July 24th, Wang Yi met China's two closest allies on the same day, and both meetings
were unusual.
With Lavrov, he spoke at length about China-Russia ties, but said nothing about Ukraine.
With Arachi, instead of the usual anti-U.S. rhetoric, he urged Iran to keep negotiations
open, preserve the memorandum it had just signed, and handle the Strait of Hormuz issue
carefully.
For more than a decade, Russia and Iran have been Xi Jinping's two key partners in confronting
Yet on the same day, Russia saw Ukraine conspicuously ignored, while Iran was nudged back toward
the negotiating table.
Has Xi changed course, or is Chinese diplomacy no longer moving in step with him?
Wang Yi spent more than a decade championing Xi and helped define China's wolf-warrior
diplomacy.
Has he now changed sides, or was he never fully aboard Xi's ship to begin with?
Let's break it down.
To answer that question, we need to return to the beginning, when China's Ministry
of Foreign Affairs was first established.
From 1949 to 1958, Zhou Enlai served simultaneously as Premier and Foreign Minister.
He largely determined how the first generation of diplomats was selected, how the ministry's
institutional structure was built, how China dealt with the Soviet Union, and how it confronted
Historically, then, the foreign ministry was very much Zhou Enlai's creation.
Its defining traits were clear.
China could speak harshly in public and take real action behind the scenes, but it always
had to preserve room for negotiation, maneuver, and retreat.
More specifically, China could confront the United States, but it could not refuse to
speak with Washington forever.
It could rely on the Soviet Union, but it could not hand China over entirely to Moscow.
It could denounce Japan, but civilian, economic, and commercial ties could not be severed completely.
So which faction did Zhou Enlai belong to?
Consider the state of the Chinese Communist Party before the Cultural Revolution.
Mao Zedong wanted one man to dominate the entire party, the party apparatus, the government,
the military, and all the senior revolutionaries.
Everyone had to submit to him personally.
Anyone with an independent political network or personal prestige could become a threat.
On the other side were the party elders, who shared power among themselves.
They also wanted to preserve communist rule, and had no intention of handing power to ordinary
citizens.
But they did not want any single person to swallow up everyone else's territory.
These elders could themselves be divided into two groups.
Liu Shaoqi and Deng Xiaoping were later associated with the reformist camp.
They placed greater emphasis on economic development, professional administration, and institutional
order.
They believed that if the party wanted to remain in power, it could not launch political
campaigns every day.
People had to be fed, and factories had to function normally.
Zhou Enlai and Chen Yun were closer to the party's conservative wing.
They also opposed surrendering the entire country to Mao's endless political campaigns,
and they were willing to negotiate and compromise with foreigners when conducting business.
But the moment reform threatened communist rule, the position of the revolutionary elite's
families, or the mechanisms of central planning and control, they would immediately hit the
brakes.
What the conservative wing sought to protect, therefore, was the shared house of the communist
party and the red families of veteran cadres, along with the rules governing how the rooms
in that house were divided.
When Mao later launched the Cultural Revolution, his principal targets were Liu Shaoqi, Deng
Xiaoping, and others who emphasized economic management and institutional order.
But they were not the only ones affected.
Ministries and commissions under the State Council, local governments at every level,
and large numbers of veteran officials were overthrown by rebel factions.
In Mao's eyes, the entire bureaucratic apparatus could obstruct his ability to issue commands
single-handedly.
Why then was Zhou Enlai not completely purged like Liu Shaoqi?
It was not because Mao trusted him.
Rather, a country as vast as China still needed someone to keep the government functioning,
receive foreign envoys, and manage international negotiations.
Zhou obeyed Mao while also trying to preserve the machinery of the state.
The foreign ministry was one of the institutions most deeply marked by his influence.
Years later, Xi Jinping inserted Xinjiang, a figure he intended to cultivate personally,
into a foreign ministry inherited from the Zhou Enlai era, with networks among departments,
bureaus, and personnel that had developed over decades.
But while a minister can be appointed from the top, the personnel networks beneath him
cannot be transformed simply by replacing one person.
Moreover, Wang Yi appears to have a relationship with China's diplomatic establishment that
outsiders cannot fully explain, but insiders instinctively understand.
Wherever he goes, he can take control.
Whatever situation he encounters, someone is there to clear the way and remove obstacles
for him.
Xinjiang, by contrast, relied almost entirely on Xi Jinping's personal trust, yet tried
to enter a ministry in which Wang Yi had spent decades building influence.
He fell almost immediately.
Under such difficult circumstances, his failure as foreign minister was hardly surprising.
How secure is Wang Yi's power?
There is another important detail.
Wang Yi's father-in-law, Qian Jiadong, was one of Zhou Enlai's secretaries.
He handled foreign affairs, security, propaganda, and matters related to Hong Kong and Taiwan,
and continued working with Zhou until the final years of Zhou's life.
Wang Yi's mother-in-law, Chen Yan, once served as Deputy Director General of the Asian Affairs
Department at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs.
Now consider Wang Yi's own career.
In 1982, he graduated from Beijing's Second Foreign Languages Institute and joined the
Foreign Ministry.
His first posting was in the Japan division of the Asian Affairs Department, the same
department where his mother-in-law had served as Deputy Director General.
From division chief to Deputy Director General and then Director General, he rose steadily
within that same relatively small institutional domain.
When the People's Daily summarized his career, it noted that in 2001 he became the youngest
vice foreign minister at the time.
At nearly every stage of his rise, he set records for being unusually young.
In 2004, Hu Jintao appointed Wang Yi as China's ambassador to Japan.
After 2008, he took charge of the State Council's Taiwan Affairs Office.
By the time Xi Jinping assumed supreme power in 2012, Wang had already served as Vice Foreign
Minister, Ambassador to Japan, Party Secretary of the Foreign Ministry, and Director of the
Taiwan Affairs Office.
From relations with Japan and broader Asian affairs to the North Korean nuclear issue
and Taiwan policy, he had long since become a veteran diplomat capable of independently
managing an entire policy portfolio.
This raises the central question, how did a man rooted in the conservative diplomatic
establishment spend more than a decade championing Xi Jinping's wolf-warrior diplomacy?
On which issues did the two move together, and when did their paths begin to diverge?
According to Jiang Feng, Wang Yi's return to control of the Foreign Ministry after Xinjiang's
downfall merely meant that he had held on to his institutional turf.
To see the real shift, one must look to the summer of 2024.
On July 18, 2024, the third plenum of the 20th Central Committee concluded.
Six days later, Wang Yi met Ukrainian Foreign Minister Dmitry Kuleba alone in Guangzhou.
Previously, whenever Beijing discussed Ukraine, it would begin with NATO and Russia's security
concerns.
This time was different.
Wang spoke directly about the China-Ukraine strategic partnership, bilateral trade, and
China's commitment to continue humanitarian assistance to Kiev.
In Beijing's language, Ukraine had suddenly become a partner with whom China could discuss
business, aid, and even the post-war future.
On August 27 and 28, U.S. National Security Advisor Jake Sullivan, effectively the president's
chief coordinator for national security and foreign policy, visited Beijing and held two
days of closed-door talks with Wang Yi.
On the afternoon of August 29, Xi Jinping received Sullivan at the Great Hall of the
People.
Sullivan later described his discussions with Wang as deep, candid, and substantive.
On September 27, at the United Nations, Wang brought together Brazil, South Africa, Egypt,
Indonesia, Turkey, and several other countries from the Global South to launch the Friends
for Peace group on the Ukraine crisis.
By July 2025, this position was being stated openly.
On July 3 in Germany, Wang declared publicly that talking was still better than fighting.
During the same trip, according to the South China Morning Post, he privately told Kaja
Kalas, the European Union's foreign policy chief, that Beijing did not want Russia to
lose the war in Ukraine.
If Moscow collapsed, he reportedly argued, the United States would be free to concentrate
all its strength on China.
In other words, as long as Russia remained strong enough to tie down the United States,
a ceasefire, a frozen front line, or a return to negotiations could all be considered.
What Beijing truly wanted to preserve was not Russia itself, but Russia's role in keeping
Washington occupied.
That, however, is the central paradox of the Xi Jinping era.
Slogans such as, China-Russia friendship has no limits, and there are no forbidden areas
of cooperation have never been withdrawn.
So does Xi's supreme line still hold, or is the old diplomatic approach quietly returning?
Which faction does Wang Yi belong to?
The best way to identify Wang Yi's true political master is to examine what he does during a
specific week.
In just four days, from July 21 to 24, he met a succession of officials in Manila and
Kyrgyzstan.
Taken together, these were not random diplomatic engagements.
They looked more like a mission to safeguard every strategic lifeline China will need to
preserve in the period ahead.
The first lifeline was ASEAN and the South China Sea.
From July 21 to the morning of July 23 in Manila, Wang met the ASEAN Secretary General,
the Philippine Foreign Secretary, and the Indian Foreign Minister, while also chairing
the China-ASEAN Foreign Ministers' Meeting.
The Philippine side raised the South China Sea dispute directly.
Beijing responded bluntly, accusing the Philippines of colliding with Chinese law enforcement
vessels near Second Thomas Shoal, and warning Manila not to become a tool of outside powers.
Yet at the same venue, Wang also discussed free trade, investment, and the digital economy.
Placed side by side, these two approaches reveal a clear principle China may argue over
the South China Sea and even pound the table.
But it cannot allow the dispute to destroy its broader relationship with Southeast Asia
or push ASEAN into the arms of the United States.
The second lifeline was Europe and an outlet for Chinese capital.
On July 23, still in Manila, Wang met British Foreign Secretary Ed Miliband, just one week
after Britain nationalized British Steel, which had previously belonged to China's
Jingye Group.
Wang urged Britain to provide a fair business environment for Chinese companies and not
to treat every economic issue as a matter of national security.
The reason is not difficult to see.
The United States is tightening restrictions on technology and supply chains.
Should Britain and Europe align fully with Washington, the remaining space for Chinese
capital in the West would shrink even further.
The European channel must therefore be preserved.
China does not need Europe to become a friend, but it cannot allow it to become an enemy.
The third lifeline was Russia and Iran.
When Wang met Lavrov on July 24, he again emphasized the China-Russia strategic relationship
and their shared position on Japan.
Yet the war in Ukraine was entirely absent from the official readout.
That same day, he spoke more directly to Iran's foreign minister.
Do not abandon the agreement already signed, do not close the door to negotiations, handle
the Strait of Hormuz carefully, and improve relations with neighboring countries.
For the past decade, Russia and Iran have stood on the front line confronting the U.S.-led
order on China's behalf.
But Beijing's demands have now changed.
Russia must not collapse, but China no longer wants to bear unlimited diplomatic costs for
the war in Ukraine.
Iran must not collapse either, but it cannot be allowed to ignite the Gulf, a region directly
tied to oil prices and China's vital energy shipping routes.
This is not brotherhood.
It is a hard calculation of interests.
The fourth lifeline was the United States.
On July 22 in Manila, Wang met U.S. Secretary of State Rubio.
China's official statement spoke in two voices at once.
On the one hand, Beijing demanded that Washington respect China's core interests and the one
China principle.
On the other, it stressed that both sides should implement the understandings reached
by their leaders, make use of diplomatic channels, and prepare for future high-level exchanges.
In other words, the United States remains China's primary adversary.
Pressure over Taiwan, technology, trade, and the military has not diminished.
But dialogue must not be severed, high-level exchanges must not stop, and anything that
can be negotiated must still be negotiated.
All four fronts are now visible.
Step back and ask what kind of strategy they form when combined.
It is neither pro-American nor anti-Russian.
Rather, it is a compromise that both the party elders and the conservative wing of the Chinese
Communist Party can currently accept.
What the Hu Jintao-Wen Jiabao camp wants is to reconnect with the United States, Europe,
ASEAN, and middle powers.
China's economy can no longer bear the cost of cutting itself off completely from major
markets.
What the conservatives want is to retain Russia as a strategic shield, preventing the United
States from freeing its hands and concentrating all its pressure on China.
What then do both sides oppose?
Xi Jinping's endless struggle.
Continuing down that path would only weaken China's markets, while exhausting its access
Wang Yi, therefore, has not switched allegiance to a new master.
He has accepted a job carrying the signatures of both sides.
Because he comes from the old diplomatic establishment, the conservatives do not view him as an enemy.
Because he is willing to pursue a new course aimed at stabilizing relations with the United
States, Europe, ASEAN, and the Middle East, the Hu Wen camp is also prepared to keep using
him.
He has become part of a temporary bargain.
For now, both sides can use him, and both sides can trust him.
What do you think of Wang Yi?
Leave your thoughts in the comments below.
Thank you for watching and see you next time.
