Give us what we want on Taiwan, and we will make you rich.
On the eve of a presidential visit to Beijing, China's ambassador to Washington reached into American history to deliver a message both seductive and severe: the Taiwan question, like the Union itself, is not subject to negotiation. By invoking Lincoln's refusal to permit secession, Xie Feng sought to reframe Beijing's position not as aggression but as a mirror of America's own founding resolve — while quietly embedding within that historical lesson an economic ultimatum and a military warning. The encounter places Trump at a crossroads that has tested every American president before him: whether strategic commitments can survive the gravity of transactional ambition.
- China's ambassador chose the American Civil War — the nation's most visceral wound — as the vessel for Beijing's most explicit warning yet: Taiwan's independence would be met with force, just as Lincoln met secession with war.
- The message arrived precisely as Trump prepared to visit Beijing, injecting a sovereignty ultimatum into what Washington hoped would be a deal-making moment, and forcing a collision between Trump's transactional instincts and China's non-negotiable red lines.
- Behind the diplomatic language lay a concrete arsenal: rare earth minerals, supply chain leverage, and a 129% surge in military incursions into Taiwan's airspace in 2025, culminating in China's largest-ever encirclement drill in December of that year.
- Washington pushed back swiftly — summoning the ambassador, rejecting the Civil War analogy, and reaffirming the Taiwan Relations Act — but the rebuttal could not fully dissolve the underlying question of whether American resolve would hold under economic pressure.
- The strategic trap Beijing has constructed is elegant and dangerous: offer Trump prosperity if he yields on Taiwan, threaten economic pain if he does not, and watch whether the promise of a deal proves stronger than the weight of an alliance.
In early May 2026, as President Trump prepared to travel to Beijing, China's ambassador to Washington gave an interview that reframed the entire visit. Xie Feng, speaking to Newsweek, invoked the American Civil War — deliberately and precisely — to explain Beijing's position on Taiwan. Just as Lincoln refused to permit Southern secession, China would refuse to release Taiwan. And just as America would never have tolerated European powers backing the Confederacy, Beijing would not tolerate Washington backing Taiwanese independence. The analogy was chosen to feel not threatening but righteous, even familiar.
The timing was no accident. Trump's visit was being cast in Washington as a test of his dealmaking instincts, but Xie's message was designed to sever that framing at the root. Taiwan, Beijing was saying, is not a bargaining chip — it is a matter of national survival. The ambassador's implicit architecture was clear: China would remain flexible on trade and investment, but absolutely immovable on sovereignty. The offer and the threat were two faces of the same coin.
The military dimension gave those words their weight. In the years preceding the interview, China had conducted its most aggressive military posturing around Taiwan in history — massive encirclement exercises following the inauguration of Taiwan's president Lai Ching-te, a 129% increase in airspace incursions in 2025, and in December of that year, the largest drill ever run, rehearsing the rapid isolation of the island and the severing of supply lines from Japan and the United States. These were not signals. They were rehearsals.
Washington responded with formal rebukes, rejecting the Civil War comparison and reaffirming its obligations under the Taiwan Relations Act. But the deeper question — the one Beijing had engineered — remained unanswered: would Trump's appetite for a deal prove stronger than America's strategic commitments? The ambassador had set the terms. The president would have to decide which side of that history he intended to occupy.
In early May 2026, as President Trump prepared to visit China, the country's ambassador to Washington sat down with Newsweek and delivered a message wrapped in American history. Xie Feng, who had held his post for three years, invoked the Civil War—the bloodiest conflict in American memory—to explain why China would fight to keep Taiwan. The comparison was deliberate and pointed: just as Abraham Lincoln refused to let the South secede, China would refuse to let Taiwan go. And just as America would never have tolerated European powers backing the Confederacy, China would not tolerate American support for Taiwanese independence.
The timing mattered enormously. Trump's visit to Beijing was being framed in Washington as a test of whether the president could negotiate a deal with China—the kind of transactional arrangement he favored. But Xie's interview signaled that Beijing saw the Taiwan question as something entirely different from a trade negotiation. It was a matter of national survival, not a bargaining chip. By invoking Lincoln, the ambassador was speaking to American sensibilities, trying to make the Chinese position feel not aggressive but defensive, even righteous. He was also sending a warning: any American move to support Taiwanese independence would be treated as an act of war, not diplomacy.
The strategic layers of this message were intricate. On one level, Xie was attempting to separate economics from politics—telling Trump that China was flexible on trade, investment, and commerce, but absolutely rigid on sovereignty. The implicit offer was clear: give us what we want on Taiwan, and we will make you rich. The implicit threat was equally clear: push us on Taiwan, and we will make you poor. China could weaponize its control of rare earth minerals, its role in global supply chains, its willingness to buy American goods. These were tools as real as any military weapon.
But the military dimension was present too, woven into the historical analogy like a threat delivered in a whisper. When Xie spoke of China's "will and determination to safeguard its territorial integrity," he was not speaking metaphorically. The years leading up to his interview had seen an unprecedented escalation of Chinese military activity around Taiwan. In 2024, after the inauguration of Taiwan's new president, Lai Ching-te, China conducted massive exercises called Joint Sword that surrounded the island and came closer to its shores than ever before. In 2025, Chinese military aircraft crossed Taiwan's Air Defense Identification Zone at a rate 129 percent higher than the previous year. In December 2025, China ran its largest-ever military drill, called Justice Mission 2025, practicing the rapid encirclement of Taiwan and the disruption of any supplies coming from Japan or the United States. These were not abstract demonstrations. They were rehearsals for war.
The American response was swift and sharp. The White House and State Department summoned Xie to deliver a formal rebuke. Officials rejected the Civil War analogy outright, arguing that Taiwan was not a secessionist territory but a self-governing democracy, and that supporting it was not playing with fire but defending freedom. The United States reaffirmed its commitment to the Taiwan Relations Act, the law that obligated it to help Taiwan defend itself. The message from Washington was that it would not be intimidated or seduced into abandoning an ally.
Yet the deeper game was about what Trump would do. China was testing whether the president's appetite for deals would override America's strategic commitments. By separating the economic file from the political file, Beijing was offering Trump a path: negotiate with us on trade, investment, and commerce, and leave Taiwan alone. If he refused, China was signaling it would turn those same economic tools into weapons. The Civil War analogy was thus a kind of Trojan horse—a historical lesson dressed up as a plea for understanding, but carrying inside it a military threat and an economic ultimatum.
What remained unclear was whether Trump would hear the offer or the threat, and whether the American commitment to Taiwan would survive the collision between his transactional instincts and Beijing's non-negotiable red lines. The ambassador's words had set the terms of the conversation. Now it was up to the president to decide which side of history he wanted to stand on.
Notable Quotes
We believe that the American people, who faced the threat of division between North and South and endured a civil war, are capable of understanding China's will and determination to safeguard its territorial integrity.— Chinese Ambassador Xie Feng, Newsweek interview, May 5, 2026
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why did the Chinese ambassador choose the Civil War specifically? Why not some other historical moment?
Because it speaks to something Americans understand in their bones—the idea that you don't let your country break apart, no matter the cost. Lincoln is a hero in America. By comparing himself to Lincoln, Xie was saying: we're not the aggressor here, we're the defender of national unity. It's a way of making the Chinese position feel morally legitimate.
But the analogy seems to break down. Taiwan has its own government, its own military, its own elections. It's not like the Confederacy.
That's exactly what Washington said in its response. But from Beijing's perspective, that distinction doesn't matter. To them, Taiwan is a province that rebelled, and they're going to bring it back. The analogy works for them because it lets them frame the issue as internal, not international. It's saying: this is our business, not yours.
So the military exercises—the 129 percent increase in air incursions, the massive drills—those are meant to back up what Xie said?
Absolutely. The words are one channel; the military activity is another. Together they're saying: we're serious about this. We've practiced surrounding the island. We've practiced cutting off supplies. We're ready to fight. The Civil War speech makes it sound civilized, but the exercises make it clear what happens if America doesn't listen.
What's the play with Trump specifically? Why time this interview for his visit?
China is trying to separate what it thinks is negotiable from what it thinks is not. Trump loves deals. So Beijing is saying: we'll give you deals on trade, investment, rare earths, everything—but Taiwan is off the table. It's a way of boxing him in before he even arrives. If he agrees to those terms, he's essentially abandoned Taiwan. If he doesn't, China can turn off the economic spigot.
Can they actually do that? Cut off rare earths, disrupt supply chains?
Yes. China controls a huge portion of the global rare earth market and is deeply embedded in supply chains. They can make it hurt. That's the real threat underneath the historical analogy. The Civil War speech is elegant diplomacy, but the economic weapon is what would actually bite.
So what happens now? Does Trump cave or does he hold the line?
That's the question everyone in Washington is asking. The ambassador has set the terms. Now Trump has to decide whether his instinct for a deal is stronger than America's commitment to an ally. The answer will tell us what kind of president he is.