The EU and China at 50: Golden Jubilee, Complex Relationship

This article was produced by Globetrotter.

Any relationship that endures for half a century is bound to be complex, marked by periods of harmony, tension, adaptation, and change. Sustaining such a relationship requires goodwill, mutual understanding, the ability to manage differences, and a commitment to respect. Over time, both partners evolve – not only individually but also through their interactions. This is as true for political relationships as it is for human ones.

The fiftieth anniversary of diplomatic relations between the European Union (EU) and the People’s Republic of China arrives at a particularly turbulent moment. These are not merely two different actors – they belong to fundamentally different political trajectories, and the global landscape surrounding them has shifted dramatically. The EU, long praised as a unique political and peace project in international relations, is now preoccupied with its latest venture, ReArm. China, in contrast, presents itself as a model of internal stability and a proponent of global peace.

A brief historical recap is instructive. In 1975, when relations were first established, the EU as we know it did not exist. Instead, the European Economic Community had just expanded from six to nine members with the accession of the UK, Denmark, and Ireland. What followed was a dynamic, if uneven, process of integration and enlargement. Often likened to an ‘unfinished symphony’, the EU has long aspired to reconcile the features of a classical international organisation with those of a sui generis political entity, lacking, however, a unifying state structure.

Attempts to federalise or constitutionalise the Union stalled with the failure of the European Constitution in 2005. Since then, the grand vision of Europe as a global normative power has dimmed. The financial crisis of 2008, Brexit, the pandemic, and the war in Ukraine have all shaken the EU’s foundations. The current surge in militarisation, accompanied by internal divisions, has made today’s EU scarcely recognisable – or perhaps it has merely revealed its true character.

For decades, the European project was lauded as a realisation of Kantian peace: a model in which historical enemies became close allies, sharing sovereignty through supranational institutions, especially in the economic realm. This narrative, however, often obscured the EU’s complicity in modern forms of imperialism and colonial amnesia.

China’s path has been no less transformative. Only in 1971 did the People’s Republic of China gain recognition as the legitimate representative of the country at the United Nations. Normalisation of relations with the West followed swiftly. In the Western imagination, China was long dismissed as a peasant nation, its people struggling in poverty. Even today, Western leaders occasionally voice thinly veiled condescension, ignoring the country’s dramatic socioeconomic rise and technological prowess.

China’s internal consolidation, even after the supposed ‘collapse of communism’ (a thesis that disagrees with the facts), has focused on stability and order rather than political pluralism. The Chinese model – centred on developmental governance, poverty eradication, and collective well-being – has little in common with the liberal democratic model, with its incessant electoral cycles, internal conflicts, and often dysfunctional competition for power. Socialism with Chinese characteristics, blending market mechanisms with strong state oversight, emerged from a long and painful national journey. What has taken shape is a civilisation-state that views governance as a continuation of its millennia-old legacy. From Deng Xiaoping’s pragmatic reforms to Xi Jinping’s assertive global posture, the transformation is staggering. A visitor to China is struck not just by its infrastructure, but by the sense of being in a different temporal dimension. While Europe is engaged in self-destruction and turning to the past devastating episodes, China is future-oriented.

China’s global emergence, epitomised by the Belt and Road Initiative (launched in 2013), has challenged Western assumptions. Here, uncomfortable questions arise: How genuine are European claims about peace-building through economic cooperation? For decades, the EU has preached that peace and prosperity are achievable through regional integration, so much so that it was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize in 2012. Yet that award coincided with a crippling debt crisis, deepening inequality, and visible cracks in European solidarity. The moral high ground collapsed during the Greek debt crisis, the refugee wave of 2015, and the pandemic. Furthermore, the EU has indeed dismissed war among its members, but has done nothing good to prevent the war in Ukraine or stop the genocide in Gaza.

Meanwhile, China has forged ahead, not with lectures and preaching democracy but with investments. Across Asia, Africa, Latin America, and beyond, Beijing is seen by many developing nations as a partner that delivers, while Western powers often repackage old paternalistic attitudes in the language of democracy and human rights. For many, China represents a new kind of peace project – pragmatic, developmental, and mutually beneficial.

As this golden jubilee is marked by conferences and diplomatic ceremonies, the contrast between the two actors could not be starker. Brussels initially planned a celebratory summit with Chinese President Xi Jinping in attendance. Xi declined, citing protocol, and offered to send the Premier instead – a reminder that the EU is not a sovereign state and lacks a single, unified leadership. Reports suggest that the summit may now be held in Beijing in July, though details remain unconfirmed.

Crucially, the EU and China were never in a ‘marriage’. They maintain the freedom to pursue divergent strategies and defend their respective interests. There will be no heartbreak, but there could be missed opportunities – for deeper cooperation, mutual understanding, and shared contributions to global peace and development.