Chinese J-20 isn't just a fighter jet—it's a signal to US, Japan and India
While the J-20 East China Sea encounter went largely unreported in English-language Chinese media and may have gone entirely unnoticed by Western outlets, it became a major topic on Chinese platforms like Baidu and Weibo. Hashtags such as '# J-20 pilot says we cannot back down ' and '# J-20 scrambles urgently to repel foreign military aircraft' garnered over 10 million and 47 million views, respectively.
The Chinese phrase, 'He who controls the heights, wins,' captures the strategic logic increasingly evident in Chinese discourse—airpower is seen as central to modern warfare. A recent China Central Television (CCTV) broadcast showed a close-range encounter over the East China Sea, where J-20 stealth fighters, codenamed 'Mighty Dragon', claimed to have intercepted foreign aircraft, likely F-35s, approaching China's established Air Defence Identification Zone (ADIZ).
'The J-20 is mighty—the pride of China's aviation industry and a shining star on the international stage,' read one comment. A Weibo post added: 'The J-20 has been fully upgraded—new domestic engines, enhanced avionics, improved tactics, and better training. We are confident and capable of facing future wars.' Another comment noted that the J-20's recent public appearance marked the maturation of the People's Liberation Army (PLA) Air Force's stealth fighter programme.
These sentiments reflect a recurring narrative in Chinese state and online media: military strength is both proof and driver of national resurgence. Following China's strong support for Pakistan post-Operation Sindoor, this narrative gained further momentum.
In Chinese discourse, the focus is less on tactical details and more on asserting regional air superiority and signalling strategic confidence. The message is clear, at least for the domestic audience: China is no longer playing catch-up; it is leading in its own theatre.
J-20: A game changer
In China's military narratives, the J-20 is not just an aircraft; it is a symbol of technological independence and strategic reach. It represents China's leap into fifth-generation fighter capabilities, combining stealth, speed, and long-range strike potential. Media coverage often features the J-20 conducting beyond-visual-range engagements under heavy electronic interference, showcasing agility and combat realism.
The replacement of Russian engines in Chinese aircraft with fully domestic ones is portrayed as a milestone in defence self-reliance. Reports indicate that China now produces J-20s at a rate that could surpass the regional presence of the US F-35. Testing of a two-seat variant, believed to support manned-unmanned teaming, signals ambitions aligned with sixth-generation airpower.
Chinese commentary highlights the J-20's ability to avoid radar detection until it is within 80 kilometres of enemy aircraft, creating what is described as a 'one-sided battlefield'. Its rapid combat readiness, airborne within eight minutes, is regularly cited, as are tactics like 'snake manoeuvres' and visible bomb bay deployments, which are said to deliver both tactical and psychological advantage. Support from electronic warfare aircraft like the J-16D adds to the portrayal of integrated, high-tech combat capability.
The pilot corps itself is central to the narrative. With an average age of just 28, J-20 pilots are depicted as the face of a new generation, technically skilled, highly trained, and ideologically committed. A user on Baidu described the J-20 as 'the pinnacle of China's aviation ambitions,' combining sleek design, advanced sensors, and networked combat systems. Yet perhaps more than the jet's features, Chinese discourse highlights production scale as a core metric of power. It's proof of China's growing industrial and military strength.
Wang Xiangsui, a professor at the Beijing University of Aeronautics and Astronautics, describes this as a doctrine of 'asymmetric air supremacy', not matching adversaries aircraft-for-aircraft, but offsetting their advantages through stealth, electronic warfare, and strategic agility. The J-20 is crucial to that doctrine.
Also read: Japan is stepping back from NATO, not Indo-Pacific ties—China is watching the cracks closely
China's sky surveillance edge
The J-20 is part of a broader ecosystem of aerial dominance. Increasingly, Chinese narratives emphasise high-altitude drones, especially the Wuzhen-7 and Wuzhen-8, as critical for surveillance and deterrence. These unmanned systems are described as flying between 20,000 and 50,000 metres at speeds above Mach 7, far beyond the tracking range of Japanese F-15Js.
The Wuzhen-8, in particular, is praised for its stealth and AI-driven systems, with some Chinese analysts calling it a 'quasi-sixth-generation' platform. These drones are cast as vital ISR (intelligence, surveillance and reconnaissance) assets, capable of sustained operations across contested airspace. Their high speed and long endurance are seen as major advantages over regional rivals, reinforcing China's claims to both technological and strategic superiority.
What's the message?
The messaging in Chinese discourse is deliberate: Beijing is preparing for a confrontation and intends to do so from a position of strength. Fifth-generation fighters, AI-driven drones, and rapid mobilisation are not just military assets. They are woven into a larger story of national revival, technological ascendancy, and strategic inevitability.
The J-20 is not just a fighter jet—-it is a signal, aimed squarely at the US, Japan, India, and Taiwan. China aims to command the skies, and it is building both the arsenal and the narrative to make that clear. But first, it starts at home.
Sana Hashmi is a fellow at the Taiwan-Asia Exchange Foundation. She tweets @sanahashmi1. Views are personal.
(Edited by Ratan Priya)
Hashtags
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Time of India
33 minutes ago
- Time of India
Why MAGA is losing its mind over Zohran Mamdani eating biryani with his hand
Image: It's 2025 and eating rice by hand is the new political weapon! It was just a man eating rice. With his hands. The way millions of people do every single day, across continents, cultures, and kitchens. But in 2025 America, that simple act turned into a political battlefield. Enter New York Assemblyman Zohran Mamdani, a progressive politician and proud South Asian who casually posted a video of himself eating rice and curry with his fingers. No flashy graphics. No soundbites. Just rice, lentils, and quiet dignity. But then came the backlash—loud, swift, and, frankly, ridiculous. Texas Republican Congressman Brandon Gill responded with what can only be described as textbook cultural xenophobia: 'Go back to the Third World.' Just like that, eating with your hands was no longer about dinner. It was about identity, dignity, and who gets to belong in America. So, let's talk about why eating rice—yes, rice—became a political weapon in 2025 in MAGA vs Zohran Mamdani. A plate full of prejudice First, let's get one thing straight: eating with your hands isn't dirty, weird, or backward. It's normal. In India, Sri Lanka, Bangladesh, Ethiopia, parts of the Middle East, and even in some parts of Europe, using your hands to eat is a sign of connection—to the food, to your senses, to tradition. by Taboola by Taboola Sponsored Links Sponsored Links Promoted Links Promoted Links You May Like Trading CFD dengan Teknologi dan Kecepatan Lebih Baik IC Markets Mendaftar Undo But in the video of Mamdani eating with his fingers, Gill and his supporters saw something else. They didn't see heritage. They saw a threat. Because in their worldview, anything outside the 'white, Western' norm becomes fair game for mockery or suspicion. It wasn't about rice. It was about power. 'Go back' is never just a phrase The phrase 'go back to the Third World' isn't just a casual insult—it's a political dog whistle. It's the same energy as 'go back to where you came from,' just dressed up in geopolitical vocabulary. It's meant to delegitimize, to humiliate, and to draw a cultural boundary line: You're not one of us. Never mind that Mamdani is a New York-born elected official. Or that the "Third World" terminology is outdated, inaccurate, and soaked in Cold War-era snobbery. Or that Americans eat burgers, fried chicken, and ribs—with their hands—without being called uncivilized. In this case, eating with your fingers wasn't seen as personal—it was seen as political. The double standard is deliciously obvious Let's play a game: list five foods Americans love eating with their hands. Go ahead. We'll wait. Pizza. Burgers. Fried chicken. Fries. Tacos. All messy. All finger food. All accepted without question. No one tells someone chowing down on a dripping cheeseburger to 'go back to the Third World.' But when a brown man eats rice with his hands? Suddenly, it's a threat to civilization. The hypocrisy is wild—but not surprising. When authenticity makes people uneasy The fallout wasn't just political—it also caused some rumbles within the South Asian diaspora. Some folks felt secondhand embarrassment. Others applauded Mamdani for showing up as his full, unapologetic self. This tension isn't new. Many second- or third-generation immigrants grow up navigating two worlds: the world of their parents and the world of their peers. That often means editing how they eat, speak, or show up. Whitewashed lunch boxes. Switched-off accents. Curry smells hidden in sealed containers. Mamdani's hand-eating wasn't just a cultural moment—it was a reminder that authenticity still makes people uncomfortable. Even within our own communities. From curry to campaign trail To understand why Mamdani's rice moment landed so hard, you have to zoom out. He's not just some guy eating lunch—he's a progressive elected official in a country where identity politics and culture wars have taken center stage. Mamdani, who once ran on a campaign called Roti and Roses, has always tied his politics to food, culture, and justice. His support for food justice programs, housing rights, and labor protections connects with the everyday experiences of working-class communities—including immigrants. So when he posts a video eating with his hands, it's not just aesthetic. It's a deliberate choice to show solidarity, connection, and pride in his roots. But for critics on the far right, that pride is interpreted as defiance. And defiance must be punished. Food isn't just food. It's identity Here's the thing: food is never just food. It's memory, heritage, comfort, protest, and politics—all rolled into one. What we eat, how we eat, and who we eat with sends signals about who we are and where we belong. Mamdani's video did all of that. It was subtle but powerful. A quiet act of defiance that said, This is who I am—and I'm not hiding it for anyone. And that's what truly scared his critics. What this moment really says about 2025 America and MAGA This entire episode—one man, one plate of rice, one racist response—says a lot more about the country than about Mamdani. It says that cultural insecurity still runs deep. That people will use something as universal as eating to divide and exclude. That even in a so-called melting pot, some flavors are still considered 'too foreign.' But it also shows something else: people are tired of hiding. Tired of apologizing. Tired of editing themselves to fit into someone else's idea of 'American.' Because if America is truly a place where everyone belongs, then eating rice with your hands shouldn't be controversial—it should be celebrated. So, the next time someone mocks a cultural practice as 'uncivilized,' hand them a mirror—and maybe a biryani. Because food is power. And in 2025, eating rice with your hands isn't just a meal. It's a message. Hands, not hate. Always.
Time of India
an hour ago
- Time of India
Dalai Lama defies China: Reincarnation will be Tibetan-led; what it means for Xi Jinping
AI image for representation only. Tibet's spiritual leader, the Dalai Lama , confirmed on Wednesday that he will reincarnate, putting an end to speculation that the centuries-old institution could end with him. Speaking via recorded video message at prayer celebrations in Dharamshala, just days before his 90th birthday, he emphasized that the next Dalai Lama will be selected following established Tibetan Buddhist traditions. "I am affirming that the institution of the Dalai Lama will continue," he said. "No one else has any such authority to interfere in this matter." This stance explicitly challenges China's claim that it alone has the power to approve the Dalai Lama's successor-a position that has deepened tensions between Beijing and the Tibetan exile community. Why it matters The Dalai Lama's reincarnation question reaches far beyond religious rituals or spiritual continuity-it represents a critical intersection of geopolitics, cultural identity, and human rights. For Tibetans, the Dalai Lama's succession is an existential issue. He is not only their spiritual leader but the most powerful symbol of Tibetan identity, autonomy, and peaceful resistance to Chinese authority. Tibetans revere him as a living manifestation of Chenrezig, the god of compassion, making his reincarnation deeply sacred. His insistence on Tibetan-controlled reincarnation is a direct rebuke of China's authoritarian efforts to dominate religious and cultural life in Tibet. By claiming sole authority to recognize his successor, the Dalai Lama is asserting a powerful form of cultural autonomy, safeguarding the future of Tibetan Buddhism from political manipulation. For China, controlling the Dalai Lama's reincarnation would cement its political and ideological grip over Tibet. The Communist Party seeks to integrate Tibetan Buddhism within state control, diluting its potential to foster dissent or resistance. China's past actions, such as its installation of the Panchen Lama , demonstrate its resolve to maintain ideological dominance. China's immediate rejection of the Dalai Lama's announcement underscores the depth of this conflict, signaling its willingness to confront international criticism to maintain authority in Tibet. Beijing insists the reincarnation must be Chinese-approved, a position that Amnesty International calls a direct threat to religious freedom. For the broader international community, the Dalai Lama's reincarnation is a potent symbol of religious freedom and human rights at stake in an increasingly authoritarian global landscape. It serves as a litmus test for democratic nations' willingness and ability to confront Chinese influence-politically, economically, and culturally. What it means for India India, home to over 100,000 Tibetan refugees, remains crucial in providing sanctuary for a Tibetan-recognized reincarnation. The Dalai Lama's insistence on reincarnating outside China also presents India with diplomatic complexities. India hosts the Dalai Lama and the Tibetan government-in-exile, but economic ties with China remain crucial. The Dalai Lama's succession process may bolster India's strategic leverage against China. Moreover, India's recognition of a Dalai Lama chosen outside China could strengthen its soft power among Buddhists globally. How India navigates this succession issue could significantly impact its geopolitical relations with China and its global image. Between the lines This Dalai Lama vs China confrontation is rooted in historical precedent. In 1995, when the Dalai Lama identified the 11th Panchen Lama-a position second only to his own-China responded by abducting the child and installing its own candidate, whom many Tibetans dismiss as illegitimate. The international community broadly condemned this move, but China remained steadfast. Observers now fear a similar scenario with dueling Dalai Lamas-one appointed by Beijing and another recognized by Tibetan authorities outside China. The Dalai Lama has explicitly instructed his followers not to accept a Chinese-appointed successor, warning against political interference. Penpa Tsering, president of Tibet's government-in-exile, reinforced this stance clearly: "We not only strongly condemn the People's Republic of China's usage of reincarnation subject for their political gain and will never accept it," Tsering said. Zoom in At the heart of the Dalai Lama's succession plan is the Gaden Phodrang Trust, a non-profit organization established by the Dalai Lama himself in 2011. Registered in Dharamshala, where the Dalai Lama has resided since fleeing Tibet in 1959, the Trust oversees matters related to his spiritual duties. Members include senior Tibetan monks and close aides, with the Dalai Lama himself serving as its head. Senior Trust official Samdhong Rinpoche clarified that the future Dalai Lama could be of any gender and nationality, effectively broadening the potential locations and conditions for the reincarnation search. "They should accordingly carry out the procedures of search and recognition in accordance with past tradition," the Dalai Lama reiterated. The Gaden Phodrang Trust's role firmly sidelines any Chinese claim, marking a significant rejection of Beijing's authority. What they're saying China immediately rejected the Dalai Lama's claims, doubling down on its longstanding position that the Chinese government must have final approval. Chinese foreign ministry spokesperson Mao Ning reiterated at a press briefing: "The reincarnation of the Dalai Lama must adhere to the principles of domestic search in China and approval by the central government." China cites a Qing dynasty-era "golden urn" lottery method introduced in 1793 as justification for its involvement, framing it as essential to religious tradition. However, Tibetans widely view this claim as a pretext for political control. Penpa Tsering underscored this point, labeling China's intervention a violation of religious freedom and Tibetan sovereignty: "It is inappropriate for Chinese Communists, who reject religion, to meddle in the system of reincarnation of lamas, let alone that of the Dalai Lama." The intrigue The Dalai Lama's reincarnation question comes amid escalating geopolitical tensions between China and Western democracies, particularly the US, which has consistently criticized Beijing's human rights record, including in Tibet. US lawmakers have previously vowed not to allow China to influence the Dalai Lama's successor, passing legislation to back up their stance with potential sanctions against Chinese officials interfering in religious freedoms. While President Donald Trump's past statements about alliances like Nato have increased anxieties about US commitments abroad, the Tibetan issue remains a rare point of bipartisan consensus in the US, with both parties vowing to prevent Chinese interference. But China's economic power complicates this resistance. Few world leaders have met the Dalai Lama recently due to Chinese diplomatic pressure, with Barack Obama being the last US president to publicly host him in 2016. The Dalai Lama's insistence on reincarnation therefore is not only about Tibet's future, but a broader struggle over the ability of democratic nations to uphold human rights and religious freedoms in the face of Chinese pressure. What's next? The succession issue could intensify further in coming years, especially if rival Dalai Lamas emerge. While the Dalai Lama, currently in good health, intends to provide clear written instructions for his succession, no formal document exists yet. Chinese President Xi Jinping faces a strategic dilemma: aggressively enforcing a CCP-approved Dalai Lama risks escalating tensions with India and the West, while inaction could embolden Tibetan exiles and their supporters. China's insistence that the reincarnation must follow its laws and occur in China may be perceived as futile if the global Tibetan community rallies behind the trust's choice, forcing Xi to expend political capital to suppress dissent. Beijing may intensify diplomatic efforts to pressure nations into recognizing its eventual choice, leveraging economic and political ties. However, the EU has already stated publicly that it opposes government interference in religious succession processes, aligning itself indirectly with the Dalai Lama's position. A prolonged international dispute could lead to intensified activism by Tibetans abroad, potentially galvanizing a stronger push for Tibetan autonomy or even independence, especially among younger generations. As Penpa Tsering recently remarked to the Economist, 'If there's one thing China can't handle, it's unpredictability.'
Hindustan Times
an hour ago
- Hindustan Times
Quad remains resilient. But everyone wants to be friends with China again
Quad took a significant step in its long journey to shed ambiguity and reveal its true purpose on Tuesday in Washington DC. The US, India, Japan, and Australia signed on to a joint statement that was more pointed and critical of Chinese actions in the maritime domain than in the past. Quad also categorically called out China's economic coercion, price manipulation, supply-chain disruptions, and use of non-market principles to concentrate production in critical minerals. In classic diplo-speak, the statement did all of this using the passive voice without attributing actions to the agent. Trump, to lend retrospective coherence to a badly thought out tariff policy, made it all about China in April. (REUTERS) To be sure, each edition of Quad has witnessed the introduction of a more critical nuance against Beijing and an additional layer of tech, economic, or security cooperation with the subtext of countering China. But this week's Quad meeting was much sharper in its focus. It also narrowed down cooperation to maritime security, economic security, critical and emerging technologies, and humanitarian assistance. The advantage of this sharp approach is that the fluff is out, and all sides are discussing real actionable items. The disadvantage is there is drastic dilution of the agenda and many valuable items of cooperation may get lost. But the Quad statement is significant because a strong diplomatic rebuke of China has become rare. Indeed, the big geopolitical picture of the moment is that China is on the geopolitical comeback trail after five years. The onset of Covid-19 in early 2020 woke the world to the dangers of opaque systems that can suppress information with globally devastating consequences. China's weaponisation of its overwhelming advantage in manufacturing awoke the world to the need for diversified supply chains. China's inroads into eastern Ladakh alerted New Delhi to the dangers of a belligerent neighbour that was willing to violate Indian sovereignty. China's continuous aggression in the East China Sea, South China Sea, and around Taiwan made the region aware of Beijing's territorial and maritime ambitions. China's predatory economics made Global South nations conscious of the downsides of Chinese development and investment flows. China's stunning technological, military, and economic strides awoke the US to its 'peer-level competitor'. Under the first Donald Trump administration, the Joe Biden administration, and under a set of Indo-Pacific leaders worried about Beijing, there was a concerted approach to take on this Chinese machine. American export controls on chips were meant to slow down China's progress. The US began building stronger countervailing coalitions in the Indo-Pacific. It encouraged plurilaterals, trilaterals, and strengthened bilaterals to shape the environment around China. The US married strategic and defence imperatives with business opportunities and innovated with new tech partnerships. It expanded its developmental, climate, and security footprint in neglected regions such as the Pacific Islands. This period saw China's internal vulnerabilities get more pronounced. Beijing's Covid-19 crackdown boomeranged. Its real estate and infrastructure-fuelled boom created a crisis. Its domestic consumption paled in comparison to its production excess. Its demographic policies generated social fissures and policy pressures. It seemed relatively friendless in the region. And theories about how China had peaked gathered traction. That 2020-2024 era of rising global estrangement with China is over. 2025 may well be the year when everyone wants to become friends with China again. The effort to construct a bridge between Euro-Atlantic and Indo-Pacific theatres has faltered. Even as Russia and China work more closely together, the US is now doing little to bridge the gap between Nato and Indo-Pacific allies and is instead pressuring both simultaneously to step up on defence. The Australian, South Korean, and Japanese heads of government decided to stay away from the Nato summit in The Hague. European countries, both collectively and separately, are seeking to cut deals with China. To many in Europe, a closer working relationship with China seems safer than putting their eggs in the unpredictable American basket. America itself is sending signals of wanting a deal with China. Trump, to lend retrospective coherence to a badly thought out tariff policy, made it all about China in April. As soon as markets responded negatively and inflationary concerns became real, he did a deal by mid-May. When the deal showed cracks and China imposed restrictions on exports of rare earths, the US showed a willingness to lift restrictions on exports and visas. Nikkei now reports that Trump is exploring a visit to China with a major business delegation. China's dependencies are real, Beijing is far more keen to do a deal than it publicly lets on, and no one is discounting either the structural rivalry or US advantages. But, in this entire episode, China has shown it has cards too and held its own to a large extent, while American vulnerabilities have become visible. And then you have China's neighbours. Despite Japan's fundamental security contradiction with China, Trump has made life so difficult for Tokyo that it cancelled a 2+2 ministerial dialogue with the US and is engaged in a public acrimonious fight on auto tariffs — any such rift plays to China's advantage. South Korea's new government is all about a more balanced approach to foreign policy compared to its pro-US conservative predecessor. Australia is struck by the Pentagon's review of the AUKUS pact and Trump hasn't even met Prime Minister Anthony Albanese. And India is sending public signals of rapprochement with China — despite China being the force behind Pakistan's military response during Operation Sindoor, India's own border tensions, the trade asymmetry that emanates from Chinese manufacturing dominance, and Beijing's efforts to construct a hostile architecture in South Asia. New Delhi's political troubles with the US due to Trump's false claims on peacemaking, mediation, and trade could only have made China happy. And in smaller countries in the region, American instruments of influence in the form of foreign aid, foreign trade, and liberal visa policy have all but gone, leaving the ground open for more Chinese presence. Neither was China about to collapse or get isolated in the past four years, nor is it about to take over the world now. But there is a shift that suits Beijing. As the next Quad chair, India's challenge is framing a credible and strong agenda that takes into account this adverse diplomatic environment. Prashant Jha is a political analyst. The views expressed are personal.
