In a world increasingly defined by strategic minerals and geopolitical leverage, China’s dominance over rare earth elements has become both a source of power and a point of contention. With nearly 70% of global rare earth mining and a staggering 90% of processing under its control, Beijing sits atop a supply chain that fuels the modern world—from electric vehicles and smartphones to wind turbines and missile guidance systems. Yet this dominance is now under scrutiny, not just for its economic implications but for the political tensions it stirs across continents.

The recent remarks by US Treasury Secretary Scott Bessent, who bluntly stated that “bureaucrats in China cannot manage the supply chain or the manufacturing process for the rest of the world,” signal a shift in tone and strategy. No longer is the rare earth issue framed as a bilateral trade dispute; it is now cast as a “China versus the world” standoff, with Washington rallying allies like India, the European Union, Australia, and Canada to mount a coordinated response. The stakes are high: rare earths are not just commodities; they are the lifeblood of national security and technological advancement.

China’s export controls—tightened recently to include licensing requirements for products containing even trace amounts of rare earths—have jolted global markets and policymakers alike. These measures, reminiscent of the US’s own extraterritorial sanctions playbook, assert Beijing’s intent to police the global flow of minerals it dominates. The move is strategic, not accidental. It comes at a time when the West is scrambling to build resilient supply chains, diversify sourcing, and reduce dependence on a single supplier that has shown willingness to weaponize trade.

India, a top importer of Chinese rare earths, finds itself at a crossroads. On one hand, it benefits from the flow of critical minerals that power its growing electronics and renewable energy sectors. On the other, it is being courted by Washington as a strategic partner in building alternative supply chains. The recent easing of export restrictions by China towards India—particularly for rare earth magnets and fertilizers—suggests a nuanced recalibration. It may be a gesture of goodwill ahead of Prime Minister Modi’s visit to China for the SCO summit, or a tactical move to prevent India from drifting too close to the US-led coalition.

Meanwhile, Beijing’s Commerce Ministry spokesperson He Yongqian has struck a conciliatory tone, stating that China remains open to resolving trade issues with Washington through dialogue. Asked about the possibility of new economic talks before the upcoming APEC summit in South Korea, He reiterated China’s commitment to “equal consultations based on mutual respect.” This diplomatic overture, however, stands in contrast to the assertive export controls and the broader narrative of supply chain nationalism.

The global response to China’s rare earth strategy is not merely reactive—it is transformative. Countries are accelerating efforts to mine and process rare earths domestically or through trusted partners. The US has revived dormant mines, invested in processing facilities, and signed agreements with allies to secure alternative sources. The EU is pushing for a “tough response,” with Denmark’s foreign minister calling for collective action. Australia and Canada, rich in rare earth deposits, are being drawn into the fold as reliable suppliers.

Yet the challenge is not just geological—it is infrastructural and technological. Rare earth processing is complex, environmentally hazardous, and capital-intensive. China’s decades-long investment in refining capabilities gives it an edge that cannot be replicated overnight. The West’s push for supply chain sovereignty must therefore be strategic, collaborative, and sustained. It requires not just mining but mastering the entire value chain—from extraction and separation to alloying and manufacturing.

The rare earth saga also exposes the fragility of globalization. For years, the world outsourced critical functions to China, seduced by cost efficiency and scale. Now, the geopolitical cost of that dependence is being reckoned with. The shift from “just-in-time” to “just-in-case” supply chains reflects a deeper anxiety: that economic interdependence can be weaponized, and that resilience must trump convenience.

In this context, the APEC summit in South Korea becomes more than a diplomatic gathering—it is a stage for strategic realignment. Whether China and the US can find common ground remains uncertain. But what is clear is that the era of passive reliance on Chinese rare earths is ending. The world is waking up to the need for diversification, transparency, and collective bargaining.

China’s rare earth dominance may have been built over decades, but its future will be shaped by how the world responds today. The group response envisioned by Washington is not just about minerals—it is about reclaiming agency in a world where supply chains are no longer neutral. It is a call for sovereignty, strategy, and solidarity. And in that call, India, the EU, and other democracies must decide whether they will remain importers or become architects of a new global order.