Woolsey did everything in his power to persuade President Mario to strengthen relations with China. Even if it meant secret cooperation or easing certain restrictions, he believed it was a price worth paying. In Woolsey's view, even if China refused to become a U.S. ally, it was still preferable to keep it neutral—detached from both the United States and the Soviet Union—than to allow it to be absorbed into Moscow's orbit.
He explained it plainly: "Three nations of unequal strength are like three chess pieces. The United States may appear powerful enough to knock both China and the Soviet Union off the board, but if those two pieces align in the face of that threat, we must reconsider the balance of power. There's no doubt—the growing alliance between Beijing and Moscow must be broken. We need to rebuild a Sino-American partnership strong enough to counter the Soviets. The terms we offer must be more attractive than theirs—so attractive that China will follow our lead, even if reluctantly."
This was the foundation of what Woolsey called the "Three-Pawn Strategy"—a vision he pitched directly to President Mario, hoping the White House could rally Congress behind it. But Capitol Hill, still trapped in Cold War thinking, balked. To many lawmakers, anything that smelled of cooperation with socialism was an unacceptable risk.
Woolsey vented to a confidant afterward. "Those idiots in Congress still look at every socialist state like it's 1955. They don't realize America now is the sole superpower. Our job is simple—finish off the Soviet Union. Once that's done, the whole world becomes an American playground."
But Congress was unconvinced. As one congressman grumbled during a hearing, "Why are we wasting taxpayer money on feeding enemies? These communist lunatics won't stop until they're hanging us from telephone poles. You want me to end up like Tsar Nicholas?"
Woolsey replied sharply, "That comparison is meaningless, Congressman. China is no longer a pure communist state. Their economic reforms speak for themselves. In fact, their gradual market liberalization has helped absorb some of the shock from America's own economic downturns. We cannot look at U.S.–China relations through a single ideological lens. Sure, there's competition—but there's opportunity too."
He continued, "Compared to China, the Soviet Union is our true adversary. Trying to take on both at once will stretch us thin. But if China becomes a pressure valve, we gain strategic room to maneuver. We've already built a cordon of allies in Eastern Europe. Turkey is with us. Now imagine if we could recreate the Sino-Soviet split of the 1960s. The USSR would be encircled—hemmed in by American partners. We could just sit back and watch while our rivals drain each other."
"The U.S. would assume global leadership—cheaply. No war, no invasion. Just positioning, patience, and pressure."
Woolsey's speech was stirring, but many lawmakers saw it as naïve or outright dangerous. To them, trusting China was like handing a wolf the keys to the sheep pen. No matter how tightly you tied that wolf's leash, it still had teeth. Woolsey, however, insisted: "We don't need to love the wolf. We just need to point it at the bear."
Despite his passion, Congress rejected the proposal, and Woolsey's standing among some right-wing members was damaged. Frustrated, he pinned his hopes on President Mario.
"I understand where you're coming from," Mario said carefully. "I even agree with parts of it. But the truth is—if this turns into military or tech cooperation, Congress won't pass a damn thing. And politically, I can't afford to be seen helping the Chinese army."
"I don't want overt military deals," Woolsey said. "What I want is surface-level diplomacy and quiet coordination beneath it. That way, we don't alarm Congress. But we still get what we want."
He leaned forward like a fox preparing a trap.
"These aren't 'cooperations,' Mr. President. They're preparations for control. Long-term economic interdependence. We'll lure China into market liberalization, then flood their system with American capital. Financial dependency will follow. Just like we did to Japan—with the Plaza Accord, the asset bubble, and the crash. This is financial colonization."
"If the wolf is hungry, we feed it—until we own its hunger. That's how you tame it."
Mario looked wary. "Control? That sounds less like diplomacy and more like… well, a trap."
"It's both," Woolsey said. "And it works."
Though he wasn't an economist, Woolsey had sharp political instincts. He understood that by turning China into a key node in the U.S. economy—one with strings attached—America could bind Beijing's fate to its own. And then tighten the leash.
"I think your plan has merit," Mario admitted. "Honestly, I thought we were just trying to peel China away from the Soviets for convenience. I didn't realize there was such an intricate design behind it."
"There is," Woolsey said. "But it will take time. It won't be completed in your term, or even the next. Which is why I need your commitment—to start the process and ensure that future presidents carry it through."
Mario nodded slowly.
"And one day," Woolsey added, "when the last Red Republic falls, they'll say the collapse began with this decision."
