In many ways, the PLA is weaker than it looks –
and more dangerous
In April 2003, the Chinese Navy decided to put a large group
of its best submarine talent on the same boat as part of an experiment to
synergize its naval elite. The result? Within hours of leaving port, the Type
035 Ming III class submarine sank
with all hands lost. Never having fully recovered from this maritime disaster,
the People’s Republic of China (PRC) is still the only permanent member of the
United Nations Security Council never
to have conducted an operational patrol with a nuclear missile submarine.
China is also the only member of the UN’s “Big Five” never
to have built and operated an aircraft carrier. While it launched a refurbished
Ukrainian built carrier amidst much fanfare in September 2012 – then-President
Hu Jintao and all
the top brass showed up – soon afterward the big ship had to return to the
docks for extensive overhauls because of suspected engine failure; not the most
auspicious of starts for China’s fledgling “blue water” navy, and not the least
example of a modernizing military that has yet to master last century’s technology.
Indeed, today the People’s Liberation Army (PLA) still
conducts long-distance
maneuver training at speeds measured by how fast the next available cargo
train can transport its tanks and guns forward. And if mobilizing and moving
armies around on railway tracks sounds a bit antiquated in an era of global
airlift, it should – that was how it was done in the First World War.
Not to be outdone by the conventional army, China’s powerful
strategic rocket troops, the Second Artillery Force, still uses cavalry
units to patrol its sprawling missile bases deep within China’s vast interior.
Why? Because it doesn’t have any helicopters. Equally scarce in China are
modern fixed-wing military aircraft. So the Air Force continues to use a 1950s Soviet designed airframe, the
Tupolev Tu-16, as a bomber (its original intended mission), a battlefield
reconnaissance aircraft, an electronic warfare aircraft, a target spotting
aircraft, and an aerial refueling tanker.
Likewise, the PLA uses the Soviet designed Antonov An-12
military cargo aircraft for ELINT (electronic intelligence) missions, ASW
(anti-submarine warfare) missions, geological survey missions, and airborne
early warning missions. It also has an An-12 variant specially modified for
transporting livestock, allowing sheep and goats access to remote seasonal
pastures.
But if China’s lack of decent hardware is somewhat
surprising given all the hype surrounding Beijing’s massive military
modernization program, the state of “software” (military training and
readiness) is truly astounding. At one military exercise in the summer of 2012,
a strategic PLA unit, stressed out by the hard work of handling warheads in an
underground bunker complex, actually had to take time out of a 15-day
wartime simulation for movie nights and karaoke parties. In fact, by day
nine of the exercise, a “cultural performance troupe” (common PLA euphemism for
song-and-dance girls) had to be brought into the otherwise sealed facility to
entertain the homesick soldiers.
Apparently becoming suspicious that men might not have the
emotional fortitude to hack it in high-pressure situations, an experimental
all-female unit was then brought in for the 2013 iteration of the war games, held in
May, for an abbreviated 72-hour trial run. Unfortunately for the PLA, the
results were even worse. By the end of the second day of the exercise, the
hardened tunnel facility’s psychological counseling office was overrun with
patients, many reportedly too upset to eat and one even suffering with severe
nausea because of the unpleasant conditions.
While recent years have witnessed a tremendous
Chinese propaganda effort aimed at convincing the world that the PRC is a
serious military player that is owed respect, outsiders often forget that China
does not even have a professional military. The PLA,
unlike the armed forces of the United States, Japan, South Korea, Taiwan and
other regional heavyweights, is by definition not a professional fighting
force. Rather, it is a “party army,” the armed wing of the Chinese Communist
Party (CCP). Indeed, all career officers in the PLA are members of the CCP and
all units at the company level and above have political officers assigned to
enforce party control. Likewise, all important decisions in the PLA are made by
Communist Party committees that are dominated by political officers, not by
operators. This system ensures that the interests of the party’s civilian and
military leaders are merged, and for this reason new Chinese soldiers entering
into the PLA swear their allegiance to the CCP, not to the PRC constitution or
the people of China.
This may be one reason why China’s marines (or “naval infantry”
in PLA parlance) and other amphibious warfare units train by landing on big white sandy beaches
that look nothing like the west coast of Taiwan (or for that matter anyplace
else they could conceivably be sent in the East China Sea or South China Sea).
It could also be why PLA Air Force pilots still typically get less than ten
hours of flight time a month (well below regional standards), and only in 2012
began to have the ability to submit their own flight plans (previously,
overbearing staff officers assigned pilots their flight plans and would not
even allow them to taxi and take-off on the runways by themselves).
Intense and realistic training is dangerous business, and
the American maxim that the more you bleed during training the less you bleed
during combat doesn’t translate well in a Leninist military system. Just the
opposite. China’s
military is intentionally organized to bureaucratically enforce risk-averse
behavior, because an army that spends too much time training is an army that is
not engaging in enough political indoctrination. Beijing’s
worst nightmare is that the PLA could one day forget that its number one
mission is protecting the Communist Party’s civilian leaders against all its
enemies – especially when the CCP’s “enemies” are domestic student or religious
groups campaigning for democratic rights, as happened in 1989
and 1999,
respectively.
Abraham Lincoln once observed that if he had six hours to chop down a tree he would spend the first four hours sharpening his axe. Clearly the PLA is not sharpening its proverbial axe. Nor can it. Rather, it has opted to invest in a bigger axe, albeit one that is still dull. Ironically, this undermines Beijing’s own aspirations for building a truly powerful 21st century military.
Yet none of this should be comforting to China’s potential military adversaries. It is precisely China’s military weakness that makes it so dangerous. Take the PLA’s lack of combat experience, for example. A few minor border scraps aside, the PLA hasn’t seen real combat since the Korean War. This appears to be a major factor leading it to act so brazenly in the East and South China Seas. Indeed, China’s navy now appears to be itching for a fight anywhere it can find one. Experienced combat veterans almost never act this way. Indeed, history shows that military commanders that have gone to war are significantly less hawkish than their inexperienced counterparts. Lacking the somber wisdom that comes from combat experience, today’s PLA is all hawk and no dove.
The Chinese military is dangerous in another way as well. Recognizing that it will never be able to compete with the U.S. and its allies using traditional methods of war fighting, the PLA has turned to unconventional “asymmetric” first-strike weapons and capabilities to make up for its lack of conventional firepower, professionalism and experience. These weapons include more than 1,600 offensive ballistic and cruise missiles, whose very nature is so strategically destabilizing that the U.S. and Russia decided to outlaw them with the INF Treaty some 25 years ago.
In concert with its strategic missile forces, China has also developed a broad array of space weapons designed to destroy satellites used to verify arms control treaties, provide military communications, and warn of enemy attacks. China has also built the world’s largest army of cyber warriors, and the planet’s second largest fleet of drones, to exploit areas where the U.S. and its allies are under-defended. All of these capabilities make it more likely that China could one day be tempted to start a war, and none come with any built in escalation control.
Yet while there is ample and growing evidence to suggest China could, through malice or mistake, start a devastating war in the Pacific, it is highly improbable that the PLA’s strategy could actually win a war. Take a Taiwan invasion scenario, which is the PLA’s top operational planning priority. While much hand-wringing has been done in recent years about the shifting military balance in the Taiwan Strait, so far no one has been able to explain how any invading PLA force would be able to cross over 100 nautical miles of exceedingly rough water and successfully land on the world’s most inhospitable beaches, let alone capture the capital and pacify the rest of the rugged island.
The PLA simply does not have enough transport ships to make the crossing, and those it does have are remarkably vulnerable to Taiwanese anti-ship cruise missiles, guided rockets, smart cluster munitions, mobile artillery and advanced sea mines – not to mention its elite corps of American-trained fighter and helicopter pilots. Even if some lucky PLA units could survive the trip (not at all a safe assumption), they would be rapidly overwhelmed by a small but professional Taiwan military that has been thinking about and preparing for this fight for decades.
Going forward it will be important for the U.S. and its allies to recognize that China’s military is in many ways much weaker than it looks. However, it is also growing more capable of inflicting destruction on its enemies through the use of first-strike weapons. To mitigate the destabilizing effects of the PLA’s strategy, the U.S. and its allies should try harder to maintain their current (if eroding) leads in military hardware. But more importantly, they must continue investing in the training that makes them true professionals. While manpower numbers are likely to come down in the years ahead due to defense budget cuts, regional democracies will have less to fear from China’s weak but dangerous military if their axes stay sharp.
Ian Easton is a research fellow at the Project 2049 Institute in Arlington, VA. He was also a recent visiting fellow at the Japan Institute of International Affairs in Tokyo. Previously, he was a China analyst at the Center for Naval Analyses.
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