CPC plenum and Busan summit: Some takeaways

China’s Fourth Plenary Session of the 20th Central Committee and the Xi–Trump meeting in Busan took place only days apart. On paper, one was a domestic political gathering and the other a diplomatic encounter on the sidelines of a multilateral summit. They were not linked in official statements, and neither attracted feverish global commentary. Yet, taken together, they offer a glimpse into how Beijing is adapting to a complex international environment.

Fourth plenums traditionally focus on governance questions, party discipline and institutional direction rather than dramatic policy launches. This session followed that pattern. The messaging centered on maintaining steady political control, ensuring policy continuity and fostering cautious confidence. It suggested a leadership that sees no benefit in abrupt moves, either domestically or externally, at a time of uneven economic recovery and external pushback. Three themes stood out.

First, the reaffirmation of party-led governance was not performative symbolism. In Beijing’s worldview, political cohesion and long-term planning are assets in a period marked by technological disruption and geopolitical frictions. The leadership continues to believe that diffuse decision-making would leave China vulnerable to external pressure. Second, economic language emphasised pragmatic adjustment. China did not deny its financial challenges, ranging from corrections in the property sector to demographic shifts. However, rather than promising a sudden return to high-speed growth, the plenum signalled an acceptance that the next phase will be steadier, more industrial policy-driven, and oriented around the security of supply chains and financial stability. 

Third, technology remains the core battleground. US-led restrictions on advanced chips, export controls and scrutiny of Chinese tech companies have clearly been internalized. The Plenum’s language underscored ongoing efforts to reduce reliance on foreign tech inputs and build resilience in critical sectors. This is not isolationism; it is preparation for a world where access to advanced technologies is increasingly politicized. None of this was presented as a crisis response. It reflected a system that was preparing for long-term competition, rather than one that was overwhelmed by it.

The Xi-Trump meeting in Busan fit into this context of calibrated pacing. The discussions did not produce groundbreaking agreements, nor were they expected to. Tariffs, agricultural purchases and fentanyl precursors figured in public remarks. The more telling aspect, however, was tone—measured, practical and devoid of the sharpness seen in earlier phases of US–China confrontation. For Beijing, arriving in Busan after the plenum mattered. It allowed Xi to approach talks from a position of internal consolidation, not defensive anxiety. For Washington, under a Trump return that values transactional gestures, a calmer exchange made tactical sense too.

The meeting illustrated a shared recognition: neither country benefits from sustained escalation at this moment. China is navigating an economic transition and rebuilding confidence, while the United States is focused on industrial reshoring, alliance repair, and domestic political contests. Strategic rivalry continues, especially in technology and security, but uninterrupted confrontation is costly, and both sides appear willing to slow the tempo. This was not détente. It was a way to test whether channels can stay open without implying softness.

If one looks at global alignments, markets and diplomatic behavior since these events, the picture that emerges is not sudden stability but a more predictable cadence. Supply chains are diversifying, not breaking. Export controls evolve, but trade persists. Security partnerships deepen, yet complete economic decoupling remains improbable. The US–China rivalry remains as real as it was a few years ago. It simply appears to be settling into a slower, steadier phase one, where each side tests its structural endurance. This rhythm benefits nobody spectacularly, but it also harms nobody dramatically. It suits countries that want time to build capacity, especially powers striving for strategic autonomy, including India and the European Union. 

For New Delhi, the Plenum-Busan period did not signal a change in thaw with China or a weakening Western alignment. Instead, it reinforced an approach that India had already adopted: steady engagement with the West on critical technology and defense, alongside measured management of the China relationship to avoid avoidable shocks.

India’s border concerns with China have not lessened. Military deployments remain robust; infrastructure development in border regions continues. At the same time, diplomatic channels remain open, and senior-level military talks continue. People-to-people and business-to-business ties have also begun growing in the past few months, signalling that both countries are understanding and navigating turbulent geopolitical spaces. 

India is not repositioning away from the United States. Strategic cooperation on supply chains, advanced manufacturing, space and maritime security has only deepened. The expectation that any external partner, even the United States, will perfectly align with India’s priorities has faded. Statements from Washington after Operation Sindoor served as a reminder that every partnership has its chafing points. So, India is doing what rising powers with long memories do: building capability, banking partnerships, and keeping options open. Instead of dramatic swings, we see incremental strengthening in areas such as semiconductor policy, defence co-production, digital infrastructure exports, energy corridors, and tighter coordination with Europe and the Indo-Pacific. 

Ultimately, neither the Fourth Plenum nor the Busan meeting reveals the future. What they tell us, instead, is how major powers behave when they don’t fully trust the world and aren't entirely sure of themselves, either. China tightened its seams before it stepped onto the diplomatic stage. The United States played along, not because it suddenly believes in strategic harmony, but because endless confrontation is exhausting and expensive. And India, watching both, is quietly filing away lessons. Nobody is “winning” here; nobody is collapsing either. This is a moment of political adulthood where states learn to live with discomfort, ambiguity, and the slow grind of structural rivalry. It’s not dramatic, and that’s precisely the point. The future is being shaped in paperwork, quiet conversations and long-term investments, not in summit fireworks.

For India and the region, the task is not to predict which way the wind blows, but to build so that whichever way it blows, you don’t get swept off your feet. Great power politics right now is less a game of grand moves, more like distance running: steady breathing, keeping pace, occasionally accelerating, never collapsing from your own adrenaline. In the years ahead, we can expect headlines, crises, breakthroughs, and provocations again. But these quieter phases matter too.

The author is a PhD candidate at the School of International Studies, Jawaharlal Nehru University. He is also a life member of the International Center for Peace Studies