Their interests do not always coincide. It couldn't be any other way.
Vladimir Putin traveled to Beijing seeking both symbolic solidarity and concrete economic relief, hoping to secure a landmark gas pipeline deal that would redirect Russian energy exports toward China after the loss of European markets. Xi Jinping received him with ceremony and warmth, and the two leaders performed their familiar choreography of friendship and shared opposition to American power. Yet beneath the pageantry, the summit revealed what grand alliances so often conceal: that great powers, however close in rhetoric, remain sovereign in interest. The pipeline stalled, and the music played on without a signed agreement.
- Russia arrived in Beijing with urgent economic need — the Power of Siberia 2 pipeline was meant to replace European gas markets severed by war and sanctions.
- China offered ceremony but withheld commitment, using pricing disputes and fears of over-dependence as quiet leverage against Moscow's expectations.
- The Kremlin's own state newspaper admitted the uncomfortable truth mid-celebration: two great-power psyches do not naturally yield to one another.
- A vague 'general understanding on parameters' was announced — diplomatic language that signals motion while delivering nothing binding.
- The failure echoes the collapsed 'spirit of Anchorage,' where similar warmth between Putin and Trump dissolved just as quickly when interests diverged.
- Putin's foreign policy aide quietly distanced himself from the Anchorage comparison, a small but telling signal that Moscow knows how fragile these partnerships truly are.
Vladimir Putin arrived in Beijing to a ceremonial welcome complete with a Chinese military band playing Moscow Nights, and the two leaders exchanged the language of old friendship — Putin calling Xi 'my dear friend,' Xi returning the warmth in kind. After more than forty meetings, the public messaging was polished and deliberate: two great powers standing together against a common adversary, their solidarity made visual by state media placing a solitary Trump beside a paired Putin and Xi.
But the summit's deeper business told a more complicated story. Russia had come with concrete hopes for the Power of Siberia 2 pipeline — a project that would carry Siberian gas through Mongolia into northern China, compensating for the European markets Moscow had lost. A memorandum of understanding had already been signed, and Russian officials expected progress. Instead, Beijing stalled. Pricing was the stated obstacle, but analysts pointed to something more structural: China's reluctance to grow dependent on Russian energy, and its preference to keep its options open.
By the summit's close, the Kremlin announced a 'general understanding on parameters' — language that sounds like movement but forecloses nothing. No deal materialized. The same state newspaper celebrating the summit's unity quietly acknowledged that Russia and China's interests 'do not always coincide,' calling it an inevitable feature of two nations each carrying a great-power psyche.
The moment carried an uncomfortable echo. Not long before, Putin and Trump had generated their own romantic diplomatic language after meeting in Alaska — officials spoke of 'the spirit of Anchorage' and the prospect of ending the war in Ukraine. That spirit had since dissolved without resolution. As Putin departed Beijing, his foreign policy aide affirmed that 'the spirit of Beijing exists,' but carefully declined to invoke Anchorage at all. It was a quiet admission of what great-power partnerships are actually made of: not affection, but the temporary alignment of self-interest — and the fragility that follows when that alignment slips.
Vladimir Putin arrived in Beijing to a ceremonial welcome that could have fooled you into thinking he was walking through the streets of Moscow itself. A Chinese military band struck up Moscow Nights, that melancholy Russian standard, as he and Xi Jinping processed toward the Great Hall of the People. The two men embraced the language of intimacy—Putin calling Xi "my dear friend," Xi responding with "my old friend." They had met more than forty times before, and the public messaging was carefully orchestrated: two great powers, aligned against a common adversary, standing shoulder to shoulder on the world stage.
The summit's rhetoric painted a picture of seamless partnership. Russia and China spoke of strategic cooperation, mutual respect, friendship, and trust. They condemned what they called the irresponsible nuclear posture of the United States and took aim at Donald Trump's plans for a missile defense system. The Russian government newspaper had made the visual argument explicit: a photograph of Trump climbing the steps of Air Force One, alone, placed beside an image of Putin and Xi walking together. The contrast was meant to be unmistakable.
But geopolitics operates in a different register than ceremonial welcomes and romantic music. The summit revealed something more complicated: the limits of what two nations, each with its own great-power ambitions, are willing to concede to the other. The clearest evidence emerged in the energy sector, where Russia had arrived with concrete hopes.
Moscow wanted to move forward on the Power of Siberia 2 pipeline, a project designed to carry Russian natural gas from Western Siberia through Mongolia into Northern China. For Russia, the pipeline represented something essential: a way to compensate for the European markets it had lost, to redirect its energy exports eastward and lock in a long-term buyer. The two countries had signed a memorandum of understanding on the project the previous year, and Russian officials had come to Beijing expecting progress.
What they got instead was a stall. Beijing showed no urgency. Pricing remained a sticking point, but observers suggested something deeper was at work: China's reluctance to become too dependent on Russian fossil fuels, a desire to maintain leverage and options. By Wednesday, the Kremlin announced that Russia and China had reached a "general understanding on the parameters" of the project. It was the kind of language that sounds like progress but commits to nothing. No final agreement emerged.
The Russian government newspaper, in the same edition that had published the triumphant side-by-side photograph of Putin and Xi, had already conceded the underlying reality. "The positions of Russia and China are not identical," it acknowledged. "Their interests do not always coincide. With two countries of this size, both with a great-power psyche, it couldn't be any other way." It was a remarkable admission, buried in the same pages celebrating the summit's unity.
The disappointment in Moscow was real, though not unexpected. What made the moment resonant was its echo of a more recent history. Not long ago, Putin and Trump had been the subject of similar romantic language. After their meeting in Alaska the previous summer, Russian officials had spoken of "the spirit of Anchorage," suggesting that Moscow and Washington had found common ground on ending the war in Ukraine—on terms Russia could accept. The war had not ended. The spirit had evaporated.
As Putin prepared to leave Beijing, his foreign policy aide Yuri Ushakov offered a careful formulation. "The spirit of Beijing exists," he said. When asked about Anchorage, he demurred: "I never used that phrase." It was a small moment, but it contained something true about the nature of great-power relationships. They are built not on affection or shared values, but on the alignment of interests. When those interests diverge, the music stops, the red carpet remains, but the deal does not materialize.
Notable Quotes
The positions of Russia and China are not identical. Their interests do not always coincide.— Russian government newspaper
The spirit of Beijing exists. But the spirit of Anchorage? I never used that phrase.— Yuri Ushakov, Putin's foreign policy aide
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why did Putin come to Beijing if the pipeline deal wasn't going to happen?
He came because you have to show up. The symbolism matters—two major powers demonstrating they're not isolated, that they have each other's back against the West. But that's different from actually making concessions on energy deals.
So the public display was the real win?
For both of them, yes. Xi gets to show his people that China is a peer to Russia on the world stage. Putin gets to say Moscow isn't friendless. But underneath, they're both protecting their own interests.
Why is China dragging its feet on the pipeline?
They don't want to be too dependent on Russian gas. If Russia is their only major supplier, Russia has leverage. China wants options, wants to negotiate from strength.
Is this partnership actually fragile?
It's not fragile because it was never built on sentiment. It's transactional. When the transaction makes sense for both sides, they move forward. When it doesn't, they smile for the cameras and go home.
What does the Anchorage comparison tell us?
That Putin has seen this movie before. He thought he had Trump. He thought they'd reached an understanding. Then circumstances changed, interests realigned, and the whole thing dissolved. He knows how quickly these things can fall apart.
So what happens next with the pipeline?
It probably gets negotiated eventually, but on China's timeline and China's terms. Russia needs the deal more than China does. That's the real power dynamic, no matter what the music says.