ANALYSIS: Ottawa Courts Beijing While Washington Burns Its Bridges — Champagne’s Risky Gamble in China

How Washington Pushed Ottawa into Beijing’s Arms

There is an irony that historians will one day relish. Donald Trump, obsessed with confrontation with China, has managed the feat of driving his own allies into Beijing’s arms. Every tariff imposed on Canada, every threat issued from the Oval Office, every angry tweet about the U.S.-Canada trade deficit has had the same effect: reinforcing Ottawa’s conviction that it must diversify—and quickly.

Canada is not alone in this strategic shift. Champagne himself notes: “All my G7 counterparts have found a strategic way to engage with China.” America’s isolation is no accident. It is the direct result of a trade policy that treats allies as adversaries and adversaries as negotiating partners.

The paradox Washington refuses to see

The more Trump hits Canada with tariffs, the more Canada turns to China. The more Canada turns to China, the more reasons Trump has to hit Canada. It’s a geopolitical vicious cycle from which no one emerges a winner—except perhaps Beijing, which need only open the door and wait for its strategic competitors to hand over their allies on a silver platter.

And yet, it would be a mistake to believe that China is doing this out of altruism. Every concession comes at a price. Every open door leads somewhere. And where it leads isn’t always where one had hoped.

49,000 Chinese Cars at a Reduced Tariff

In January, Carney secured a deal: 49,000 Chinese electric vehicles would enter Canada at a reduced tariff of 6.1%—down from the 100% tariff imposed just a few months earlier. In exchange, China would reduce or eliminate tariffs on Canadian agricultural products, including canola meal, through the end of 2026.

On paper, it’s an elegant compromise. Canada gets affordable electric vehicles for its consumers. China gains access—albeit limited—to the North American auto market. Canadian farmers regain a vital market. Everyone wins.

What the agreement doesn’t say

Except that the agreement expires at the end of 2026. Except that the 25% retaliatory tariffs on Canadian pork are still in place. Except that 49,000 vehicles, in a Canadian auto market of nearly two million annual sales, is a drop in the bucket. And except that every Chinese electric vehicle that enters Canada is one that North American automakers aren’t selling.

The Canadian auto industry, already weakened by U.S. tariffs, views this agreement with a mix of resignation and concern. You don’t diversify an economy by replacing one dependency with another. You diversify it by creating value that no one else can offer. And in that regard, Canada still has a lot of work to do.

Tariffs as Tools of Political Pressure

In Chinese diplomacy, trade is never just about trade. The 25% tariffs on Canadian pork are not a rational economic measure. They are a message—a reminder that Beijing can turn the taps on and off at will, and that every Canadian agricultural product entering China does so because Beijing allows it, not because the market demands it.

Perez-Des Rosiers hopes that Champagne will address the issue of pork tariffs during his visit. It’s a reasonable hope. But it’s also a hope that reveals the deeply asymmetrical nature of the relationship: Canada asks, China grants. Or not.

Canola as a Diplomatic Weapon—A Precedent No One Has Forgotten

Canadians who follow the relationship with China remember 2019, when Beijing blocked imports of Canadian canola in retaliation for the arrest of Meng Wanzhou, Huawei’s chief financial officer. It wasn’t a trade dispute. It was coercive diplomacy, plain and simple. And the message was crystal clear: if you mess with our strategic interests, we’ll hit you where it hurts—your wallet.

That precedent haunts every negotiation. Every agreement signed with Beijing contains an invisible clause: all of this could vanish tomorrow if the political relationship deteriorates. And in a world where tensions between major powers are only growing, this invisible clause may be the most important one of all.

Symbolic Gestures with Significant Impact

In November, China reinstated Canada on its list of approved destinations, once again allowing group travel. In return, Beijing extended the visa exemption to 30 days for Canadian tourists and business travelers. These gestures may seem insignificant. They are not.

In Chinese diplomatic parlance, tourism is a political barometer. When Beijing allows its citizens to visit a country, it’s a sign of approval. When it prevents them from doing so, it’s a punishment. Canada’s return to the list is therefore a clear message: Beijing considers the relationship to be on the right track.

The Renmin University Economist and What He Leaves Unsaid

Xiang Songzuo, an economist and professor at Renmin University in Beijing, sums up the issue with typical Chinese restraint: “A good relationship between two countries is not only important in terms of the economy, trade, oil, and gas… but also for the people of both countries.”

It’s a statement that seems trite. It isn’t. Coming from a Chinese academic speaking to a foreign camera, every word is weighed, calibrated, and approved. And what this statement really says is that Beijing is ready to invest in the relationship—but on its own terms.

The Controversy That Refuses to Die

You can diversify your business. You cannot diversify your values. And this is where Sino-Canadian rapprochement hits a wall that neither Champagne nor Carney can get around: the issue of forced labor in Chinese supply chains.

The controversy has erupted with particular intensity in recent weeks, after Michael Ma, a member of Parliament who recently joined the Carney government, appeared to downplay the existence of this practice in China. The reactions were immediate and harsh. Carney had to intervene publicly to defend Canada’s position, asserting that the country has “the most rigorous framework of commitments” on this issue.

The Moral Dilemma of Economic Pragmatism

But here is the truth that press releases cannot gloss over: every dollar traded with China passes through a system where fundamental rights are not guaranteed in the same way as in Canada. And to claim that “rigorous frameworks for engagement” are sufficient to resolve this problem is to confuse procedure with substance.

Zichen Wang, a researcher at the Center for China and Globalization in Beijing, offers a diagnosis with rare candor: “The two countries disagree on many issues. They have very different political systems, with different values. Both sides will also have to manage their differences in these areas.”

This is the most important sentence in this entire report. Managing differences. Not resolving them. Not overcoming them. Managing them. In diplomatic vocabulary, “managing” means living with them. And living with differences on human rights is a choice that comes at a cost—even if that cost doesn’t appear on any balance sheet.

Replacing Washington with Beijing Is Not Diversification

There is one word the Carney administration uses like a mantra: diversification. But true diversification does not mean replacing one dominant partner with another. It means increasing the number of partners so that none of them can exert decisive influence.

But what is Canada doing right now? It is reducing its dependence on the United States—which is wise—while increasing its dependence on China—which is risky. The goal of a 50% increase in exports to China by 2030 is ambitious. But if this goal is achieved without a proportional increase in exports to Europe, Japan, South Korea, India, and the ASEAN countries, Canada will have merely switched its trading master.

What Australia Can Teach Us

Australia has been through this scenario. For years, Canberra benefited from the boom in iron ore exports to China. Then, in 2020, when Australia called for an independent investigation into the origins of the pandemic, Beijing responded with punitive tariffs on wine, barley, coal, beef, lobster, and lumber. The message was the same as with Canadian canola: your prosperity depends on our goodwill.

And yet, Canada seems to be heading down exactly the same path, with exactly the same confidence that market mechanisms will protect national interests. They won’t. The market has no geopolitical conscience.

What China Really Wants

To understand what China has to offer, we must first understand what it is seeking. The latest five-year plan, formalized during the recent “Two Sessions” of the National People’s Congress, emphasizes stimulating domestic consumption. This is an admission: the Chinese economy is slowing down, consumer confidence is low, the real estate market remains fragile, and youth unemployment has reached levels that worry the Party.

In this context, Canadian raw materials—canola, potash, timber, and minerals—are useful. But they are useful on Beijing’s terms. China does not import Canadian canola because it likes Canada. It imports it because it needs it to feed its population and its agri-food industry. The day it finds a cheaper supplier—or one less inclined to raise awkward questions about human rights—it will switch suppliers. Without warning.

The Cold Calculation Behind Chinese Hospitality

Beijing is rolling out the red carpet for Champagne just as it has for every Western finance minister who has come knocking on its door since Trump launched his trade war. This isn’t generosity. It’s strategy. Every Western country that draws closer to China weakens the united front that Washington is trying to build against Beijing.

By coming to negotiate bilaterally, Canada is offering China exactly what it wants: proof that the Western alliance is cracking. And that proof is well worth a few concessions on canola.

David Eby and Provincial Diplomacy

British Columbia Premier David Eby has announced that he will travel to China later this year—the first visit by a premier from the province since 2018. This is no small matter. British Columbia is Canada’s gateway to the Pacific, and its ports—Vancouver foremost among them—are the arteries through which a massive portion of Sino-Canadian trade flows.

When provinces begin to conduct their own trade diplomacy with China, it means two things. First, that the economic urgency is real—provinces don’t make these kinds of trips for fun. Second, that the federal government has opened a door that everyone now wants to walk through.

The Risk of Diplomatic Discord

But multi-voiced diplomacy is a perilous exercise. If Ottawa, British Columbia, Alberta, and Quebec each negotiate separately with Beijing, China will have the luxury of playing the provinces off against one another. It’s a tactic as old as diplomacy itself, and Beijing masters it better than anyone.

And yet, no one in Ottawa seems to have put in place a coordination mechanism that would prevent this fragmentation. It’s the kind of detail that doesn’t make the headlines but ultimately determines who emerges victorious from the negotiations.

The Revolution Canada Can’t Ignore

China has become the world’s leading producer of electric vehicles. Its manufacturers—BYD, NIO, XPeng—produce competitive vehicles at prices that Western manufacturers cannot match. The reason is simple: years of massive subsidies, a fully integrated battery supply chain, and a domestic market of hundreds of millions of drivers that serves as a large-scale testing ground.

The January agreement, which allows 49,000 Chinese electric vehicles to enter the market at reduced tariffs, is a first step. But the fundamental issue isn’t the number of cars. It’s whether Canada wants to participate in the electric revolution or simply consume it.

What “reduced tariff” really means for the Canadian industry

Every Chinese electric vehicle sold in Canada at a 6.1% tariff is a vehicle that was not assembled in a Canadian factory. It is a job that was not created in Ontario. It is battery technology that was not developed in Quebec. In the short term, Canadian consumers stand to gain. In the long term, the Canadian economy could suffer irreversible losses.

The energy transition is a train that only comes once. Countries that miss it cannot catch up. They become permanent consumers of technologies developed elsewhere. And Canada, despite its reserves of lithium, nickel, and cobalt—the essential ingredients of batteries—is allowing others to transform its raw materials into high-value-added products.

The Minister’s Background and What He Brings to the Table

François-Philippe Champagne is no novice. A former minister of Innovation, Science, and Industry and a former minister of Foreign Affairs, he knows the China file inside and out—from commercial, diplomatic, technological, and security perspectives. It is precisely this versatility that makes him the right envoy for Beijing. And it is also this versatility that makes his position untenable.

Champagne must simultaneously reassure Canadian business circles seeking greater access to the Chinese market, appease human rights advocates demanding accountability on forced labor, satisfy farmers calling for the lifting of tariffs on pork, and avoid saying anything that might offend Beijing to the point of derailing negotiations. It’s a balancing act where every word carries immense weight.

What Champagne Says—and What He Can’t Say

The minister summed up his philosophy in one sentence: “China is the world’s second-largest economy and our second-largest trading partner, so we have to engage.” That’s true. It’s also exactly what China wants to hear. “We have to engage” is the phrase that opens every door in Beijing—and closes some in Ottawa.

Because “engaging” with China, in the current context, means accepting a number of implicit compromises. It means not publicly pressing too hard on Xinjiang. It means not provoking Beijing over Taiwan. It means smiling for the cameras while fundamental questions remain unanswered. That is the price of pragmatism. And it’s a price not all Canadians are willing to pay.

When all allies do the same thing at the same time

Champagne is right to point out that all of his G7 counterparts are seeking to engage strategically with China. Germany has done so. France has done so. Italy has done so—to the point of joining and then leaving the New Silk Road, in a diplomatic back-and-forth that perfectly illustrates the West’s ambivalence toward Beijing.

But this collective rush toward China creates a problem that no one wants to admit: when everyone wants the same thing, the seller sets the price. And the seller, in this case, is Beijing. China can pit Canada, Australia, Brazil, and Argentina against each other for its agricultural imports. It can play France off against Germany for its industrial purchases. It can promise each a “strategic partnership” while giving no one more than it is willing to give.

The lesson Canada should learn from this competition

If Canada wants to stand out in this race, it’s not enough to send ministers to Beijing. It must offer something that no one else can offer. And in this regard, Canada has real assets: natural resources critical to the energy transition, rare political stability, a world-class education system, and a Chinese diaspora of nearly two million people that serves as an irreplaceable cultural bridge.

The question is whether Ottawa has the strategic vision to turn these assets into bargaining chips—or whether it will simply sell them off at the first diplomatic smile.

Michael Kovrig and Michael Spavor Are Not Just a Footnote

Any analysis of Sino-Canadian relations that fails to mention Michael Kovrig and Michael Spavor is incomplete. These two Canadians have spent more than 1,000 days in Chinese prisons, arbitrarily detained in direct retaliation for Meng Wanzhou’s arrest. That was hostage diplomacy, and everyone knows it—even if Beijing will never admit it.

This memory is still raw for many Canadians. And it raises a fundamental question: How can you trust a trading partner that uses your citizens as bargaining chips? The official answer is that you can separate trade from politics, business from values, and pragmatism from principles. But is such a separation truly possible? Or is it a fairy tale that governments tell themselves to justify choices they know are morally uncomfortable?

The Trust Test That Champagne Cannot Administer

And yet, the world moves on. Business resumes. Ministers travel. Agreements are signed. Diplomatic memory is short—this is both its strength and its weakness. Its strength, because it allows bridges to be rebuilt. Its weakness, because it allows the same mistakes to be repeated.

Beyond Canola — A List of Strategic Demands

If Champagne’s trip is to yield concrete results, here’s what Canada should put on the table—and what Beijing has no desire to hear:

A trade dispute resolution mechanism that prevents China from weaponizing tariffs for political purposes. Binding guarantees on market access for Canadian agricultural products, enshrined in multilateral agreements rather than in revocable decrees. A framework for technological cooperation that protects Canadian intellectual property—an area where China has a disastrous track record. And a verifiable commitment on the issue of forced labor in supply chains.

The Difference Between Asking and Getting

None of this will be easy to achieve. Beijing has no interest in accepting mechanisms that limit its strategic flexibility. But if Canada doesn’t ask, it certainly won’t get it. And if it settles for press releases about a “mutually beneficial relationship” without tangible results, this trip will have been nothing more than a public relations stunt—costly for taxpayers and beneficial to no one but the press photographers.

What’s at stake isn’t a trade agreement

Champagne is in Beijing. The real question isn’t what he’s doing there—it’s what happens next.

Closer Sino-Canadian ties are necessary. In a world where the United States treats its allies like vassals, Canada has no choice but to diversify its partnerships. But diversification without a protection strategy isn’t diversification—it’s submission in a different guise.

What’s at stake isn’t an agreement on canola or electric vehicles. What’s at stake is Canada’s ability to remain a sovereign actor in a world where great powers treat middle powers like pawns on a chessboard they didn’t design.

The quote Champagne should keep in mind

There’s a phrase Mark Carney uttered in January in Beijing that sums it all up: “It’s a partnership that reflects the world as it is today, with a realistic, respectful, and interest-based commitment.”

It’s a good line. It’s a diplomat’s line. But it omits one essential word: cautious. The world as it is today is a world where partnerships based solely on interests fall apart as soon as those interests diverge. And with China, interests always end up diverging. The question isn’t if. It’s when.

Signed, Jacques PJ Provost