Professor Andrew J. Nathan's provocative commentary attempts to reconstruct how Xi Jinping himself might interpret the outcomes of the Trump–Xi summit and the broader trajectory of U.S.–China relations. It is a useful exercise, because leadership psychology is a critical — and often underappreciated — variable in foreign policy decision-making. To understand how a leader perceives the world, we must first understand the lens through which he sees it: the worldview, political beliefs, personality traits, and political style that together constitute his political psychology.

Xi's Worldview: Conflict as the Nature of Politics

Xi Jinping's political belief system rests on a foundational assumption: politics is fundamentally about conflict and struggle, while cooperation serves only as a tactical instrument. Xi came of age in an environment defined by insecurity. As a child, he witnessed his father's political persecution and the ransacking of his family home; as a teenager, he endured public struggle sessions and threats of execution — reportedly being told that he deserved to be shot a hundred times — before being sent into exile for seven years in a remote village in Yan'an. These formative experiences instilled in him a defining lesson: those unwilling or unable to struggle will ultimately be destroyed. They also left him with a profound and enduring sense of personal insecurity. The omnipresent logic of class enemies that permeated his youth taught him not only to suppress adversaries through coercive means, but also to view politics as an arena of perpetual danger in which trust itself is a liability. This existential experience became the deep root of Xi's lifelong pursuit of power.

In Xi's view, political competition can at any moment become a matter of survival. Conflict is not merely an obstacle, but also an opportunity and a driving force for progress. Lasting reconciliation with political adversaries is neither possible nor desirable. From this premise flow two strategic imperatives: the absolute concentration of political power as the optimal strategy for survival, and an uncompromising posture toward enemies — holding firm on red lines and engaging in resolute struggle.

This combative worldview is reflected in his approach to three critical issues: the contest between socialist and capitalist paths to modernization; the struggle between Chinese nationalism and foreign imperialism; and the internal battle between "Party purity" and corruption. Each, in Xi's mind, involves an irreconcilable antagonism. The first two bear directly on external security. For Xi, the United States and its Western allies are adversaries on both fronts — rivals in the competition over modernization models and the principal source of what he perceives as external threat. This helps explain why Xi's public rhetoric so consistently emphasizes security and struggle.

Xi's Friends and Foes: A Bifurcated Political World

Xi's relational logic follows a stark distinction between insiders and outsiders. Those categorized as enemies are to be fought without restraint and eliminated without compromise — although Xi remains tactically flexible enough to distinguish between primary and secondary adversaries and to deploy united-front strategies when useful. By contrast, those within his inner circle are rewarded generously and promoted rapidly. Yet his deep-seated insecurity means that loyalty is never fully taken for granted; even trusted allies remain under constant scrutiny, and their status can shift without warning.

Xi's Self-Perceived Historical Mission

Xi's sense of historical mission is equally central to his psychology. He views the Chinese Communist Party under his leadership as the driving force behind China's modernization and national rejuvenation, embedding his personal mission within the broader arc of Chinese history and Communist revolution. In his view, this mission can only be fulfilled through the absolute and centralized authority of the Party. As Steve Tsang has observed, Xi's ultimate vision is a new form of party-state built upon the formula of "one nation, one people, one ideology, one ruling party, one leader" — a system in which every individual is expected to serve the national interest as defined by the Party.

Assessing Nathan's Argument

Viewed through this psychological lens, Nathan's core judgment is persuasive. Several years ago, a mainland Chinese scholar shared with me a candid assessment: U.S.–China relations were heading toward a Thucydides Trap. Beijing believed that "the East is rising while the West is declining," and that time was on China's side; Washington, meanwhile, still regarded itself as the dominant hegemon. This asymmetry in perceptions of power, the scholar argued, would lock the two countries into a prolonged period of conflict and mutual adjustment — until each side recalibrated its assessment of the other's strength.

The outcome of the May 2026 Trump–Xi summit in Beijing suggests that this perceptual gap has narrowed considerably. The summit, held on May 14–15, demonstrated that Washington has been unable to force Beijing into submission through maximum pressure across economic, technological, and military domains. Facing the pressures of the 2026 midterm elections, President Trump focused primarily on trade at the summit — particularly Chinese purchases of American goods. As Beijing moved to satisfy American expectations in these areas, Washington in turn offered partial and calibrated concessions on issues of concern to China: tariffs, technology restrictions, and Taiwan. Notably, the Trump administration had already delayed announcing a $14 billion arms sales package to Taiwan in order to avoid antagonizing Beijing ahead of the summit. Afterward, Trump indicated that he had not yet decided whether the arms sale would proceed — a posture Beijing is likely to interpret as a meaningful signal. The White House further indicated that Xi would visit Washington later in 2026, suggesting that both leaders share an interest in institutionalizing the new framework. Apparently, both sides demonstrated a shared desire to avoid the worst-case outcome — open conflict — resulting in a pattern of partial mutual accommodation. Yet this very dynamic introduces new uncertainty into Taiwan's geopolitical position within the broader framework of great-power competition.

Xi almost certainly interprets the summit as confirmation that Washington has come to recognize the necessity of accommodation. He likely regards his proposed framework of a "constructive relationship of strategic stability" as the foundational architecture for future U.S.–China relations. Washington did not formally endorse the framework in identical terms; instead, Trump's team emphasized "fairness and reciprocity" as the basis of the relationship — subtly reframing Beijing's formulation in more transactional terms. Beijing, however, may seek to use this framework as a top-level design through which to manage and shape the relationship on its own terms — combining engagement and pressure to push Washington toward adjustments in its China and Taiwan policies, while attempting to seize the initiative in defining the relationship's direction. In sum, the summit is likely to reinforce Xi's conviction that his interpretation of the "great changes unseen in a century" — namely, the eastward shift of global power — is correct, and that China remains on track to offer the world an alternative path to modernization.

On Taiwan specifically, Trump's cumulative public statements — which observers have characterized as a de facto articulation of a "new four nos" — that he does not want anyone pursuing independence, does not want to send American troops abroad to fight, does not want to serve as a backer of Taiwan independence, and will not lightly commit to arms sales — have inevitably raised concerns about whether U.S. support for Taiwan may be quietly shifting under the second Trump administration. For Beijing, each of these verbal commitments, once translated into concrete policy, would represent a significant strategic gain. For Taiwan, the real concern is not what Washington says publicly today, but whether U.S. policy gradually and quietly shifts over time. Whether Washington slows the pace or reduces the scale of arms sales to Taiwan in the months following the summit will serve as the first meaningful test of American resolve. Equally important will be how U.S. allies in the Indo-Pacific — including Japan, South Korea, and the Philippines — respond to the post-summit configuration of U.S.–China relations, as this will reveal the summit's longer-term strategic consequences.

Taiwan: The Permanent Imperative

It bears emphasizing that preserving the cross-strait status quo has never been Xi's objective. His stated goal is the "complete reunification of the motherland." Driven by his sense of historical mission, Xi regards the unification of Taiwan not as a distant aspiration, but as an ongoing imperative. Regardless of whether the DPP or the KMT holds power in Taipei, both will face sustained Chinese efforts to hollow out the ROC government's effective control over Taiwan and its surrounding waters and airspace. Beijing will continue exploiting Taiwan's deep internal political divisions — ensuring that its major political parties remain incapable of meaningful cooperation — in order to erode the island's will to resist. After all, subverting an adversary from within is the most efficient path to victory.

Looking at the experience of Hong Kong, where the "one country, two systems" framework effectively collapsed before the imposition of the National Security Law in 2020, any post-unification political framework for cross-strait relations would likely rest upon three principles. First, "one country supersedes two systems": while different socioeconomic arrangements may nominally be permitted, territorial integrity and sovereignty — one of Beijing's three core interests — would remain the non-negotiable precondition. Second, "patriots govern Taiwan": those designated as non-patriots by the CCP would be stripped of political rights. Third, "Taiwan subordinated to China's overall development": Taiwan would be treated as one component of the broader national development project, required to align itself with the needs of the "motherland." Under these three principles, the liberal democratic way of life currently enjoyed by Taiwan's citizens would become unsustainable, and existing political identities — whether rooted in the ROC framework or Taiwanese independence — would be systematically dismantled. For Xi, only the realization of this terminal vision for Taiwan would constitute the true fulfillment of his dream of the great rejuvenation of the Chinese nation.

The Variable of Xi's Mortality

Professor Nathan notes that Xi has set a target of "controlling Taiwan" before the end of his fifth term in 2037. This timeline reflects both his calculation of personal political legacy and Beijing's broader belief that time is on its side. As China's economic scale expands, its military modernization advances, and its international influence grows, Beijing remains confident that the balance of power will continue shifting in its favor. The outcome of the Trump–Xi summit reinforces this judgment: when Washington opts for "stability" over "competition," and when Taiwan is treated as a tradable bargaining chip, Beijing has every reason to believe that patience alone may eventually resolve the Taiwan question in its favor.

Yet no political strongman is immune to aging and death. Over the past fourteen years, Xi has concentrated power to such an extent that he has become the indispensable node of the entire party-state system. Born in 1953, Xi — barring unforeseen circumstances — will likely seek a fourth term, serving at least until 2032, at which point he will be 79 years old. Although the CCP provides its senior leaders with exceptional medical care, and most members of the Politburo Standing Committee have lived well into their eighties, physical deterioration remains inevitable with age. History — both Soviet and Chinese — suggests that the decline or death of a dominant leader often produces significant political turbulence; Lenin, Stalin, and Mao each generated severe succession crises that stand as cautionary examples. Moreover, as a strongman's health deteriorates, insecurity and paranoia often intensify, potentially accelerating internal purges and abrupt policy shifts. How Xi's physical condition evolves, and what it may mean for China's domestic politics and foreign policy, will be one of the most consequential variables for outside observers to monitor in the years ahead.

Taiwan's Choices in an Uncertain World

Taiwan must confront a difficult reality: the status quo is no longer sustainable. In practice, both sides of the Taiwan Strait are already working — each in its own way — to shift the situation incrementally, seeking to transform quantitative change into qualitative change. Beijing will not accept an indefinitely divided Taiwan Strait and will continue intensifying both coercive pressure and inducements designed to erode Taiwan's will to resist.

For Taiwan to preserve its way of life, it must first overcome its internal divisions. Cross-party consensus on national security issues is the foundation of resistance to external pressure. Taiwan's major political parties must recognize one another as indispensable participants in the island's democratic life, guard against political radicalization, and compete within that shared framework. In a deeper sense, what Taiwan needs is a "constructive relationship of strategic stability" among its political parties — one that can serve as the foundation for navigating an increasingly turbulent external environment.