China and the US at the upcoming G7 summit

Hindustan Times

2 days ago

If the G7 once stood as the West's economic command centre, today it is a stage for the world's most consequential rivalry: The US and China. The 2025 Kananaskis summit arrives not as a celebration of unity, but as a crucible, testing both the G7's cohesion and its capacity to respond to a world reordered by Beijing's rise and Washington's anxieties.
In this context, the G7 is forced to grapple with the reality that its own cohesion is increasingly defined by how it manages the China question. The summit's agenda, though broad, is inevitably shaped by the undercurrents of this strategic contest. Every policy proposal, from digital standards to global health, is now filtered through the lens of US-China competition. The G7's ability to adapt, innovate, and present a credible alternative to China's growing influence will be scrutinised more closely than ever before.
Let's acknowledge the elephant in the room: The G7 was created in the 1970s to manage western economic crises, with the US as its undisputed conductor. Fast-forward to 2025, and the G7's very relevance is under scrutiny not least because of the US's own internal divisions and the relentless ascent of China. The G20 was once hailed as the premier forum for global economic coordination, precisely because the G7's old formula could no longer contain the ambitions of China, India, and the wider Global South.
Yet, as the G20 has stumbled, mired in geopolitical paralysis, Russian aggression, and China's assertiveness, the G7 has tried to reassert itself as the last redoubt of liberal democracy and economic order. But with the US now led by a president openly sceptical of alliances, tariffs weaponized as policy, and unity fraying, the G7 faces an existential crisis at its own doorstep.
The irony is thick: the very institutions designed to manage western dominance now find themselves wrestling with the limits of that dominance. The G7's attempts to reassert itself are both a response to and a symptom of a shifting global order, where old alliances are tested and new alignments are uncertain. The summit thus becomes not just a meeting of leaders, but a barometer of the West's willingness to reinvent itself in the face of profound change.
The US enters Kananaskis less as the first among equals and more as the unpredictable uncle at the family reunion. President Trump's return to the summit table brings a familiar playbook: Scepticism of multilateralism, open disdain for the EU, and a willingness to use tariffs as both carrot and cudgel. The US's stance on the climate crisis has reversed course yet again, leaving Europe and Japan to pick up the slack. Intelligence-sharing, once a pillar of trust, is now a source of European anxiety.
Trade, too, is a battlefield. Trump's on-again, off-again tariffs have injected uncertainty into global markets, and while G7 finance ministers might dance around the issue in public, the reality is that America's economic statecraft is now as much about managing allies as it is about confronting adversaries. The question for Kananaskis: Can the US still lead a coalition it seems intent on destabilising?
The American approach to the summit is further complicated by domestic political pressures. With an eye on the upcoming election cycle, the administration is keenly aware that foreign policy gestures must resonate with domestic audiences. This dynamic risks turning the G7 into a stage for political signalling rather than substantive cooperation, with allies left to interpret shifting signals from Washington. The US's ability to balance domestic imperatives with global leadership will be a key subplot at Kananaskis.
China, of course, is not at the table but it is everywhere in the conversation. The G7's agenda is saturated with China's presence: From concerns over the East and South China Seas, to the militarisation of the Taiwan Strait, to the ever-present anxiety over supply chains and critical technologies. The phrase 'free, open, prosperous, and secure Indo-Pacific' is now G7 code for containing China's influence.
Yet, the G7's China policy is riven by contradictions. Europe's economic entanglement with Beijing tempers its hawkishness, while Japan and the US push for a harder line. The group will likely issue hortatory statements on peace, stability, and the rules-based order, but the real contest is about who sets the standards for Artificial Intelligence (AI), digital trade, and green technology.
China's growing economic footprint in Africa, Latin America, and Southeast Asia also complicates the G7's calculus. As Beijing deepens its Belt and Road investments and forges new trade alliances, the G7 faces the challenge of offering compelling alternatives. The summit's deliberations on infrastructure, debt relief, and technology standards will be shaped by the need to counter China's expanding influence, even as member States weigh the risks of economic decoupling.
Here lies the G7's central paradox: It is united in its concern over China's rise but divided on the means and ends of responses. The US wants to de-risk supply chains and decouple where possible; Europe wants to hedge; Japan wants security guarantees without sacrificing economic ties. Meanwhile, China's absence from the summit is itself a statement: The world's second-largest economy is both the target and the test of the G7's continued relevance.
This dilemma is compounded by the reality that no member can afford a full rupture with China. The interdependence of global supply chains, the need for cooperation on climate and health, and the risks of escalation in the Indo-Pacific all constrain the G7's options. The summit will thus be a study in ambiguity, with leaders seeking to project resolve while quietly managing risk. The outcome may be less about grand strategy and more about the art of muddling through.
If the G7 is to avoid becoming a relic, it must do more than issue communiqués about shared values. It must reconcile its internal divisions, offer credible alternatives to China's Belt and Road, and set enforceable standards for technology, trade, and climate. The US, for its part, must decide whether it wants to lead a coalition or simply bully a bloc. The G7's future indeed, the future of western leadership may hinge on whether this summit is remembered as a turning point or a missed opportunity.
The stakes could not be higher. The choices made at Kananaskis will reverberate far beyond the summit, shaping not only the trajectory of US-China relations but the architecture of global governance itself. If the G7 can rise above its divisions and articulate a compelling vision for the future, it may yet reclaim its role as a steward of stability and progress. If not, the world may look elsewhere for leadership perhaps to new coalitions, or to the very rivals it once sought to contain.
Finally, the 2025 G7 summit is not just another diplomatic gathering; it is a stress test for the post-war order. The US and China may not sit at the same table, but their rivalry shapes every conversation, every alliance, every policy. The question for Kananaskis is not whether the G7 can contain China, but whether it can contain its own centrifugal forces long enough to matter. In the end, the G7's fate may rest less on who is in the room, and more on whether those present can agree on what kind of world they want to defend.
In this pivotal moment, the G7's ability to adapt, innovate, and demonstrate unity will be watched not only by its adversaries but by a world searching for credible leadership. The summit's legacy will be determined by its willingness to face uncomfortable truths and make hard choices that will define the contours of global power for years to come.
This article is authored by Maj Gen Dilawar Singh, senior vice president, Global Economist Forum, AO, ECOSOC, United Nations.