Trump woke up with a rare piece of good news: the Iran war is showing signs of easing. He has claimed a ceasefire agreement could be reached within a week. The deadline is pressing — his long-delayed China trip begins next Thursday, 14 May, according to Washington, and arriving in Beijing without a peace deal would be nothing short of an embarrassment.
Here is how the situation on the ground has shifted over the past week.
Iran Softens
Iran has tabled a sweeping new 14-point peace proposal, structured across three phases. The first phase calls for converting the ceasefire into a full cessation of hostilities within 30 days. It extends the truce across all territories involving Israel and regional allies, establishes an international mechanism to prevent a resumption of hostilities, and revises Iran's earlier war reparations demands. Most critically, Iran proposes to gradually reopen the Strait of Hormuz in exchange for the United States lifting its naval blockade.
The second phase focuses on Iran's nuclear concessions. Tehran agrees to discuss a complete halt to uranium enrichment for up to 15 years. It rules out the forced dismantlement of its nuclear facilities, but consents to transferring or diluting its stockpile of highly enriched uranium outside its borders. During this phase, the United States would progressively lift economic sanctions.
Iran's biggest concession here is agreeing to physically move its enriched uranium out of the country, instead of merely agreeing to discuss nuclear issues.
In the third phase, Iran would engage in strategic talks with regional states to build a comprehensive security framework for the entire region. Taken together, this proposal has significantly narrowed the gap between the two sides.
Trump Plays Games
Iran extended an olive branch. Trump responded by playing games. On 2 May, the White House posted a crazy video on X — a looping edit of Trump repeatedly declaring "Winning it, winning it, winning it..." within the span of an entire hour. A day later, on 3 May, he announced the "Project Freedom": a large naval fleet would escort ships trapped in the Strait of Hormuz out of the waterway. Strip away the packaging, and the project was a naked attempt to force vessels through the strait by sheer military muscle.
Trump's calculation was clear: pressure Iran into silence, break open the strait, and arrive at the negotiating table with stronger cards. Iran answered with missiles — firing directly at US escort destroyers. Because the designated shipping route ran close to the United Arab Emirates, Iranian missiles also struck UAE oil tankers and oil facilities. In an instant, the promise of peace collapsed into renewed hostilities. International oil prices swung from falling to rising within a single day, with a total range of as much as 8%. Trump had badly misjudged Iran's reaction — and blown the whole thing up.
Trump Backs Down Again
Once Iran fired, Trump found himself trapped. Under US law, a president can wage war without Congressional authorization for only 60 days — and that deadline had already passed on 1 May. Going back to war with Iran would require Congressional approval. Trump had absolutely no confidence he could get it. A deeply ironic spectacle then emerged: when media pressed him on whether Iran's missile strike on US destroyers constituted a violation of the ceasefire and an act of war, Trump transformed into Iran's de facto spokesman. He deflected, hedged, and refused to call it an act of war — calling the Iranian missile strike a "love tap" instead, while insisting the ceasefire was still "in effect." He even admitted the two countries were locked in what he called a "mini war"— then immediately pivoted to say he wanted it ended "now." That kind of white-horse-is-not-a-horse sophistry was never going to hold.
Middle Eastern media, citing sources on 7 May, reported that Iran and the United States had reached a consensus: easing the US naval blockade in exchange for the gradual reopening of the Strait of Hormuz. Neither Washington nor Tehran had confirmed the report.
Make no mistake: watching a superpower reverse course so dramatically — and so repeatedly — is a remarkable sight. One can’t but wonder: who would still want to follow this kind of boss?
After calling off the "Project Freedom", Trump quickly put out word that a deal with Iran would be reached within a week. The reality is Trump has run out of room for maneuvering. He cannot go back to war with Iran — Congressional authorization is essentially out of reach — and the clock is ticking toward his China trip. His only viable path is to secure a peace deal before Air Force One touches down in Beijing.
From TACO to NACHO
American elites have given Trump a new nickname to go with his latest blunders. The old label "TACO" — borrowed from the name of a Mexican flatbread — mocked him as "Trump Always Chickens Out." The new one is "NACHO," taken from the name of Mexican tortilla chips, standing for "Not A Chance Hormuz Opens." It is a pointed jab at Trump's string of miscalculations, with the strait's reopening looking no closer to reality.
One can only hope Trump comes to his senses — turns "NACHO" back into "TACO," faces reality, makes the necessary concessions, and reaches a peace agreement with Iran without further delay. The world has already suffered enough.
Lo Wing-hung
Bastille Commentary
** 博客文章文責自負,不代表本公司立場 **
China envisions a world in harmony. Nations talk through their differences instead of fighting them out, and the rising tides lift all boats.
On June 18, the British Financial Times republished an article by Bridgewater Associates founder Ray Dalio, titled "China's Tribute System and the New World Order." Dalio writes that earlier this year he spent a month in Asia, meeting with senior policymakers from China and across the region. He returned convinced that the global order is undergoing a profound shift.
Two developments stand out.
First, Washington's handling of Iran's blockade of the Strait of Hormuz has left Asian leaders broadly skeptical about whether the United States is truly willing to bear the costs of war.
Second, China is generating enormous wealth through exports. Its companies and banks are piling up vast capital surpluses. That buildup is pushing the RMB higher and driving its wider use in trade and financial transactions. China's investors and capital markets are emerging as genuine rivals to their American counterparts.
Dalio then argues that, having visited China over 42 years, understanding China's worldview is essential. That worldview, he says, is rooted in Confucian culture, the tributary system, and Sun Tzu-style strategic thinking.
China's historical lessons matter just as much. During the century of national humiliation, foreign powers seized vast swathes of Chinese territory and exploited its people. A lesson seared into China's psychology and strategic outlook.
The tribute system Dalio refers to describes an order between states built on explicit hierarchical roles: not one of equality, but one that openly acknowledges superior and subordinate relationships. He argues that China's leaders do not seek to build an empire to control other nations, because doing so would be inefficient.
The Western approach, Dalio argues, has always relied on war to seize territory and impose control. The primary reason why the United States maintains 700 to 800 military bases across 80 countries. China, by contrast, has only one overseas military base. Dalio even interprets the stream of foreign leaders who visited China over the past six months as a sign of willingness to forge ties with China akin to tributary allegiance.
Dalio gets some things right. China does indeed practice "winning without fighting" — one need only observe how President Xi has handled his dealings with Trump to see this in action. But China has no desire to build a tribute system. Such feudal imperial mindset is fundamentally at odds with the modernizing vision of China's current leadership.
Dalio's use of the tribute system as a framework for understanding China's approach to international relations does have roots in Western political science and international relations theory. Two theories are most frequently cited.
Finlandization Theory
The term "Finlandization" originated in West German political circles during the Cold War. Western strategists now routinely invoke it as a modern analogue for a "neo-tribute system."
The concept is straightforward. A smaller nation, facing an overwhelming neighbor, quietly abandons any foreign policy that might provoke it. In return, the powerful neighbor leaves its sovereignty and economy intact. Survival, not pride, drives the bargain.
Many Western hawks argue that China's economic diplomacy has a hidden agenda. The Belt and Road Initiative, they contend, is the primary vehicle. Its true purpose, they say, is to "Finlandize" neighboring countries and even Europe into a modern-day form of tribute extraction.
The Tianxia (All-Under-Heaven) Framework
Western scholars specializing in East Asia — such as Brantly Womack — frequently bring the ancient Chinese concept of tianxia (天下, "all under heaven") into Western theoretical discourse.
The core argument cuts to a fundamental divide. The West champions the Westphalian system, built on the absolute equality of sovereign states. The East, by contrast, emphasizes "relationalism." International politics is viewed as a web of asymmetric but reciprocal relationships. Proximity, hierarchy, and mutual obligation matter more than legal equality.
These scholars argue that China's vision of a new world order is not built on legal contracts binding nations together. It is defined by how close, or how distant, each country's relationship with Beijing actually is. Precisely what Dalio describes as "superiors and subordinates acknowledging their relative positions, with pressure applied through harmony and strategic acumen."
These two Western interpretations of China's supposed tributary mentality represent two distinct schools of thought.
The first, the realist school, leans critical, viewing China as simply using repackaged language to expand its sphere of influence.
The second school is cultural-historical in its approach, and it takes a more sympathetic view. It accepts that China operates from a security logic that is genuinely different from the West's. It also holds that China's preference for non-violent, coercion-free order is real. The condition is simple. Other nations must satisfy China's cultural-psychological need to “save face, earn respect, and occupy a central role”. Meet that need, and China will choose harmony over confrontation every time.
Alas, neither of these Western political theories can adequately explain China as it actually exists today. China has put forward the concept of “a community with a shared future for mankind", as the strategic foundation of its foreign relations. Modern China's external policy differs fundamentally from the ancient tribute system in two key respects.
Asymmetric Reciprocity
China advocates a correct approach to justice and interests — placing righteousness before profit. It extends unilateral tariff exemptions to the vast majority of African nations, helping them export more goods to China. It has also funded the construction of substantial infrastructure on their behalf and written off portions of their debt.
Such are the actions of a responsible great power. Having grown prosperous itself, China hopes to extend the same opportunity to other developing nations.
Sovereign Equality
The tribute system's defining characteristic is an unequal ruler-subject relationship. The vision of "A Community of Shared Future for Mankind," by contrast, is grounded in the legal principle enshrined in the UN Charter: the absolute equality of sovereign states and non-interference in internal affairs.
This differs from the ancient tribute system, which demands the political submission of weaker states. A framework built on international treaties rather than bilateral relationships.
Western political scientists — even those sympathetic China-watchers with deep understanding of the country — tend to characterize China's leaders as driven by a need to "save face, earn respect, and occupy a central role."
In reality, those three descriptions fit US President Trump far more aptly. It is American leadership, not Chinese, that insists on remaining the supreme superpower, the center of the world.
Consider the controversy in which Trump claimed that Italian Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni had "begged" to take a photo with him at the G7 summit, only for Italy to flatly deny the allegation and subsequently cancel its foreign minister's visit to the United States.
Clearly, it is not Beijing that cannot afford to look small.
Americans have a habit of projecting their own impulses onto others. Since US GDP surpassed Britain's in 1914, America has spent over a century constructing a system of asymmetric global power dependency centered on itself. Now that this hegemony is showing cracks, America projects its own image onto China.
China does not need other nations to come and pay tribute. It simply seeks to build a peaceful, mutually beneficial new world.
Lo Wing-hung
