The China-EU summit on July 24 confirmed what Beijing and Washington have long surmised: Europe has sidelined itself from great-power competition. After five decades of diplomacy, Brussels and Beijing have never been further apart, exactly as Trump’s wedge intended. Yet the bridge to China wasn’t demolished from abroad. Europe dismantled it, piece by piece, through its own incoherence. Brussels’ only meaningful gain was a marginal agreement on rare earths. The European Union’s other concerns, ending China’s “systemic distortions and growing manufacturing overcapacity”, were unaddressed. Instead, the EU walked away with hollow climate declarations and technical scraps. This confirms that China sees no need to concede anything substantial: a passivity that exposes Europe’s irrelevance. Washington engineered this outcome with precision. Trump’s tariff threats had seemed to corner Brussels into a false dilemma: either prioritise commercial ties with China or reinforce transatlantic loyalty. The set-up succeeded. The summit laid bare Europe’s misreading of geopolitical reality. The EU continues to act as a liberal power in a realist international system. Its principles – multilateralism, consensus and legalism – unravel when confronted with raw power politics. Trump exploits this mismatch, trapping Brussels and exposing its failure to define an autonomous stance. At the last Nato summit, European members increased their military dependence on the transatlantic alliance. Trump’s attempts to fracture Nato only yielded a more submissive Europe. Brussels aligned without protest to a defence spending increase worth 5 per cent of gross domestic product through 2035, effectively binding Europe to the US security-industrial complex. On the economic front, European Commission President Ursula von der Leyen’s deal on a Scottish golf course – 15 per cent tariffs on EU exports, exemptions for American goods and €640 billion (US$750 billion) in energy commitments – marked Europe’s self-chosen descent from partner to client. Any pretence of “strategic autonomy” disintegrated under these imposed dependencies. Meanwhile, the EU’s brief openness towards Beijing earlier in the year has all but evaporated. Chinese foreign ministry spokesperson Mao Ning challenged Brussels’ geopolitical credibility, urging it to recalibrate its political mindset before addressing economic concerns, a diplomatic way of saying Europe was unfit for serious negotiation. Chinese foreign minister Wang Yi deepened the rift by reportedly declaring that Russia’s defeat in Ukraine was not in China’s interests. Europe expressed outrage but offered no recalibration. Brussels continues to demand that Beijing alter its ties with Moscow while offering no diplomatic initiative of its own. It clings to slogans of support for Ukraine and another round of sanctions while avoiding peace efforts. The moral selectivity runs deeper: Brussels demands from Beijing what it never required of other countries reluctant to reduce ties with Moscow. For example, India absorbed 38 per cent of Russia’s major arms exports between 2020 and 2024. No European leader has explained why engagement with China must hinge on its Russia stance when no such condition is applied to others. The logic is incoherent. Ukraine is not even a member of the EU. Yet only Beijing is subjected to this litmus test, undermining Europe’s credibility and eliminating the path to diversification. By singling out Beijing, Brussels also forecloses any prospect of Eurasian realignment, which is exactly the outcome Trump wants. Moreover, despite framing the Ukraine war as an existential conflict, Europe is still helping Russia’s economy. The EU admits that in 2024, its energy payments to Moscow totalled €23 billion. Since Russia invaded, those payments have reportedly given the Kremlin the equivalent cost of 2,400 fighter jets. The contradiction is staggering. The persistent use of ineffective economic-security tools further highlights the bloc’s futility. The banning of Chinese firms from EU medical equipment tenders worth more than €5 million simply provoked Chinese retaliation. This predictable symmetry underlined Europe’s absence of tactical imagination. Europe’s geopolitical insignificance is exacerbated by a void of political leadership. No Brussels figure commands global respect. The EU is neither feared nor courted, and is absent from major decisions. It has no real seat in Ukraine negotiations, barely any weight in Middle East diplomacy and no voice that other powers consider consequential. Such paralysis originates from twin misconceptions. The EU perceives the US as a reliable partner despite persistent economic threats, coerced weapons purchases and diplomatic disregard. Meanwhile, it underestimates China despite depending on Chinese raw materials, critical industrial inputs and supply chains for green and digital technologies. In essence, Europe misreads Chinese strength as a threat and American coercion as a consequence of normal relations. Still, Beijing and Washington have drawn the same conclusion: European leaders have chosen submission over autonomy. Compared to Europe, China stood up more defiantly to US economic pressure and emerged more resilient. Hence, Beijing sees little reason to engage with Brussels beyond protecting commercial ties. Overall, Trump’s wedge succeeded because it exposed Europe’s inability to choose between ideological posture and economic necessity. By imposing an artificial binary – security dependence on the US or economic partnership with China – he ruled out the one outcome Washington most feared: an authoritative Europe engaging a self-assured China. The summit proved that the 21st century belongs to two superpowers, not three. Trump’s policies exposed Europe’s unwillingness to summon the courage to compete. Just like that, Europe has walked into geopolitical triviality, dismantling its bridge to Beijing along the way.