The Idea of a Reverse Kissinger
I remember the name Kissinger from my childhood in the early 1970s. I was far too young to understand why Henry Kissinger was mentioned in the news, but to a Swedish-speaking child his name sounded amusing, and that is why it caught my attention. Half a century later it resurfaced, this time charged with history, power politics, and controversy. Kissinger was once again in the spotlight, long after the period when he had been one of the most influential figures in the world. Kissinger died at the age of one hundred at the end of 2023. During the final year of his life, he commented—among other occasions in connection with the World Economic Forum in Davos—on the war in Ukraine and expressed support for future Ukrainian membership in NATO. Having turned one hundred, Kissinger made one last visit to China and, although it was formally a private trip, he met with Xi Jinping. The visit was appreciated in Beijing, though not necessarily in Washington, where the Biden administration had continued the tougher China policy initiated under Donald Trump.
Xi Jinping ja Henry Kissinger Pekingissä 2023 (NBC News/YouTube)
In 1971, Kissinger visited China for the first time in his capacity as National Security Advisor and as President Richard Nixon’s personal envoy. The trip was carried out in secrecy while the world was led to believe that Kissinger was suffering from a stomach illness, a detail that contributed to his reputation. Kissinger is above all associated, however, with the shift in U.S. China policy that he implemented together with Nixon. In 1973 he was appointed Secretary of State and, like Marco Rubio during Donald Trump’s second term, he simultaneously held the positions of National Security Advisor and Secretary of State. That Kissinger’s name returned to public debate half a century later can be explained by the fact that the world has begun to resemble the strategic environment in which he operated: great-power rivalry, bloc formation, claims to spheres of influence, and an increasingly explicit focus on balance of power rather than values.
Kissinger’s legendary trip to China in 1971 aimed at opening relations with the People’s Republic of China. By normalizing relations with Beijing, the United States succeeded in exploiting a deep rift between China and the Soviet Union, thereby strengthening its own position in the Cold War. It was a classic act of realpolitik: ideology gave way to geopolitics, and the objective was to weaken the principal adversary, Moscow. The conflict between China and the Soviet Union concerned revolutionary leadership and border disputes, but also the interpretation of Marx and Lenin, with China claiming to represent a purer form of Marxism-Leninism while the Soviet Union criticized China for endangering global peace through support for violent revolutions in the Third World. Nevertheless, it was primarily the Soviet Union that the United States sought to weaken through its realpolitik.
In retrospect, this maneuver has received a more ambivalent assessment. Nixon later expressed concern that the United States may have underestimated the long-term consequences and reportedly said in the late 1980s that perhaps they had “created a Frankenstein.” China gradually integrated into the global economy and grew stronger industrially, technologically, and militarily—without becoming politically liberal. Communism fell in Europe but survived and adapted in China. When the Soviet Union collapsed, the United States did not face the end of history, but rather the emergence of a new and in many respects more complex rival. It is against this background that the concept of a “reverse Kissinger” has emerged.
By this is meant the idea that the United States today—when China is regarded as the foremost strategic challenger—might attempt to improve relations with Russia in order to isolate or at least weaken China. In analogy with the triangular diplomacy of the 1970s, Russia would assume the role once held by China, while China would become the power strategically pressured.
This is not an official doctrine, but an analytical concept that appears in debate and speculation. According to some accounts, Kissinger himself raised the idea in conversations with Donald Trump, and it has been speculated that Trump in practice attempted to apply such logic. His recurring willingness to improve relations with Vladimir Putin, his skepticism toward sanctions, and his reluctance to confront Russia unequivocally have often been interpreted in this light.
Trump Wants to Split Russia and China. Business Insider
At the same time, it is evident that today’s circumstances differ markedly from those of the 1970s. Relations between China and Russia are not characterized by ideological division but by shared interests: opposition to American dominance, deepened economic cooperation, and a strategic partnership strengthened over time. The clear rift that Nixon and Kissinger were able to exploit no longer exists.
This does not mean that the conceptual model lacks significance. Even if a full-scale reverse Kissinger strategy appears unrealistic, it can function as an explanatory model for Trump’s priorities. Trump seems consistently to view China as the United States’ principal rival, while Russia appears more as a problem that can be managed—or possibly used in a broader strategic game.
Here a divide emerges between the United States and Europe. For most European states, especially after Russia’s attack on Ukraine, Russia constitutes the primary security threat. China is an economic and technological challenge, but not an immediate military threat of the same kind. The United States and Europe share values and alliances, but their threat perceptions have begun to diverge.
This divergence helps explain the tensions that arose during Trump’s presidency. It is not merely a matter of his undiplomatic style or his questioning of NATO, but of differing strategic priorities. Where Europe sees an aggressive Russia that must be met with deterrence and unity, Trump sees a China that must be stopped—and a Russia that might possibly be used for that purpose.
If there is an embryo of a reverse Kissinger in this thinking, a paradox nevertheless arises. Such a strategy would require a broad and disciplined coalition of allies around the United States, jointly identifying China as the primary challenger. Yet Trump’s confrontational and transactional style risks undermining precisely the cohesion that such triangular diplomacy would require. Trade conflicts with traditional partners, repeated questioning of alliance commitments, and a skeptical attitude toward multilateral institutions create uncertainty about America’s long-term role. For many European states, the conclusion is not necessarily to close ranks more tightly behind Washington in a global contest with Beijing, but to seek greater strategic autonomy and, in some cases, to maintain—or even deepen—economic ties with China. In that sense, Trump’s policies may have weakened the structural preconditions for isolating China.
From another perspective, however, the same policies can be interpreted as a necessary wake-up call. Defenders of Trump’s approach argue that the rules-based international order was already eroding before Trump, and that China in practice benefited from open markets and international institutions without fully adhering to the same rules. A tougher line was therefore not a departure from strategic thinking but a correction of a long period of Western naivety. Applying pressure even on allies can, in this light, be seen as a way of forcing a reassessment of dependencies and security priorities. The fact that several European countries later adopted a more restrictive stance toward Chinese investments and technological dependencies, while increasing investment in European defense, has been cited as evidence that the policy shift accelerated a necessary adjustment.
Trump’s actions in connection with his claims regarding Greenland may nevertheless have been detrimental. He went too far when he threatened punitive tariffs against European countries that did not support his claims regarding Greenland. Valuable American trust capital was unnecessarily squandered, while Trump’s threats provided NATO members with an excuse to once again deepen trade relations with China. One may criticize European leaders for once again taking Trump too literally, but in international politics even verbal outbursts on social media are actions with consequences. Success in foreign policy requires more than the willingness to “fight like hell”; it also demands diplomatic skill in implementing a chosen strategy.
Kissinger perhaps represents American diplomacy at its best: his legendary skill in negotiations, secret journeys, and shuttle diplomacy demonstrates how a masterful diplomat can shape global outcomes through patience, precision, and strategic finesse rather than through blunt confrontation. Nixon deserves recognition for having given his National Security Advisor and Secretary of State the room to operate—even if Kissinger’s China policy ultimately had unforeseen long-term consequences.




