The U.S.–China Competition

 By   Justin Kirangacha| The Common Pulse/latest news /US/ Kenya/Abroad/Africa / NOVEMBER2025.

The tension between the United States and China has evolved far beyond military or ideological rivalry, becoming an intricate struggle for dominance in the technological and economic spheres. Today, technology and trade are not merely sectors of growth, but weapons of influence, tools of containment, and instruments of national pride. From semiconductor chips to artificial intelligence, and from trade restrictions to intellectual property battles, this rivalry has become the defining feature of global geopolitics in the 21st century. It has reshaped alliances, redefined the meaning of economic security, and infiltrated domestic politics in both Washington and Beijing.
At the heart of this conflict lies technology, the new oil of our era. Semiconductors, the tiny brains behind modern computing, are now treated like strategic assets on par with nuclear materials. For the United States, maintaining control over chip design, production, and distribution has become central to its national security doctrine. China, on the other hand, sees technological self-sufficiency as the key to breaking Western dependence and asserting itself as a global superpower. The stakes are enormous, not just economically, but politically and ideologically, because whoever leads in technology leads in power projection, intelligence gathering, and economic dominance.

The American strategy has been to restrict China’s access to cutting-edge technologies. Under both the Biden and Trump administrations, Washington has imposed a series of export controls targeting semiconductor equipment, advanced chips, and high-tech manufacturing tools. These restrictions are designed to prevent China from acquiring or replicating the world’s most sophisticated chip-making technologies, primarily those produced by companies in the United States, Taiwan, South Korea, Japan, and the Netherlands. By controlling this global ecosystem, the U.S. hopes to maintain a decisive edge over China’s technological advancement, ensuring that Beijing’s military and artificial intelligence ambitions remain constrained.

But this policy has also begun to boomerang back into U.S. domestic politics. What began as a strategic containment measure has now become a rallying point for industrial renewal. Washington’s “CHIPS and Science Act” is the centerpiece of this effort, a multibillion-dollar push to rebuild America’s manufacturing base in semiconductors. Lawmakers across party lines have come to see technology not just as an innovation issue, but as a matter of national survival. Factories are breaking ground in Arizona, Texas, and Ohio, as politicians vie to bring high-tech jobs home, signaling how global competition has merged with domestic economic populism. Every senator and governor wants to be seen as defending American technological independence from Chinese encroachment, turning policy into political theater.

China, however, is not standing still. It has doubled down on state-led investment in technology, channeling massive resources into domestic chip production, AI research, and quantum computing. President Xi Jinping’s “Made in China 2025” strategy has become more than an economic blueprint; it is a political statement of intent. Beijing aims to dominate key industries of the future, robotics, clean energy, 5G communications, and it is willing to endure short-term pain for long-term gain. The Chinese government has poured subsidies into local semiconductor firms, pushed universities to produce more engineers, and incentivized private giants like Huawei, SMIC, and Baidu to innovate under pressure. Despite sanctions, Chinese firms are making progress in designing their own advanced chips, signaling that the U.S. embargo may slow them down but not stop them entirely.

Meanwhile, the trade dimension of this rivalry continues to shape global markets. The U.S. has increasingly tied trade policy to national security, a sharp departure from the free-trade orthodoxy that defined globalization for decades. Tariffs, export bans, and investment restrictions have become the new normal. Washington’s message to its allies is clear, choose sides. The result has been a partial decoupling of the world’s two largest economies, with ripple effects across supply chains from Southeast Asia to Europe. Multinational corporations are being forced to rethink where they manufacture, where they source components, and whom they can sell to. The era of “efficiency first” globalization has given way to one of “security first” economics.

But the irony is that this decoupling is far from clean. American tech giants still depend on Chinese manufacturing for assembly and components, while Chinese firms rely on U.S. software and patents for innovation. Apple, for instance, remains deeply intertwined with Chinese suppliers, even as it shifts some production to India and Vietnam. The global economy has become so interconnected that a full separation is almost impossible without severe consequences for both sides. Thus, policymakers on both ends are walking a tightrope, trying to limit dependency while avoiding economic collapse.

The political narrative in the U.S. has shifted to reflect these contradictions. Republicans frame the competition with China as a matter of national pride and defense, warning that Chinese influence threatens not only jobs but democracy itself. Democrats, while sharing the same strategic goals, emphasize industrial policy and alliances, portraying the tech war as a path toward sustainable growth and climate leadership. Yet underneath these partisan differences lies a rare consensus: that the era of engagement with China is over. Cooperation has given way to confrontation, and every major policy, from trade to education to defense spending, is being reframed through the lens of U.S.–China rivalry.

This technological cold war has also rippled into other arenas of global power. Europe is caught in the middle, trying to maintain access to Chinese markets while aligning with U.S. security interests. Taiwan has become both a linchpin and a flashpoint, home to TSMC, the world’s leading chipmaker, and a geopolitical tinderbox watched closely by both Washington and Beijing. The race for artificial intelligence dominance is accelerating, with both sides pouring billions into AI development, data centers, and supercomputing infrastructure. Even the climate transition is now being shaped by competition over who controls the supply of critical minerals like lithium, cobalt, and rare earths used in electric vehicles and batteries.

The deeper implication of this rivalry is that technology itself has become politicized. Every breakthrough, whether in microchips, green energy, or biotech, is now viewed as a strategic asset. The boundaries between commerce and security have blurred, creating a world where innovation is weaponized and globalization is fragmented. Smaller nations are being forced to pick sides, as Washington and Beijing court them with investment, infrastructure projects, and diplomatic pressure. For countries in Africa, Latin America, and Southeast Asia, the tech war presents both risk and opportunity, the risk of dependency and the opportunity to leverage competition for better deals and faster development.

Domestically, the U.S. is entering a new era of techno-nationalism. The competition with China has become a convenient justification for public investment, protectionist measures, and industrial subsidies long considered taboo. The narrative of reclaiming manufacturing glory and “beating China” resonates across political divides, appealing to both blue-collar workers and Silicon Valley elites. Yet this national unity hides deeper tensions about globalization, inequality, and innovation. While Washington pumps billions into chip plants, questions remain about workforce training, environmental costs, and long-term sustainability.

The race between the U.S. and China is not just about chips or trade, but about who defines the global order in the digital age. It is a struggle between two visions, one driven by democratic capitalism and the other by authoritarian state capitalism. Each side believes its model will deliver not only prosperity but legitimacy. As artificial intelligence reshapes societies, and as automation challenges labor markets, this rivalry will increasingly determine how technology interacts with human life.

In the end, the U.S.–China competition over technology and trade is as much about identity as it is about policy. For Americans, it revives a sense of purpose after decades of economic drift, positioning the nation as the defender of innovation and freedom. For China, it embodies the long quest for recognition and equality on the global stage after a century of perceived humiliation. Their contest is rewriting the rules of globalization, redrawing trade routes, and redefining what power means in the 21st century.

Whether this competition leads to constructive rivalry or destructive confrontation remains to be seen. What is certain is that technology has become the new battleground of politics, shaping economies, ideologies, and the very fabric of international relations. The semiconductor wars, the trade restrictions, and the race for AI supremacy are not just technical skirmishes; they are the front lines of a new geopolitical era. The outcome will determine not only who leads in innovation but who shapes the world’s political destiny for decades to come.