Category The Chinese Air Force

For decades, the United States has fielded dozens of noncombat aircraft that increase the effectiveness of its fighters and bombers. These “force multi­pliers”—the E-3 AWACS, the E-8 JSTARS (Joint Surveillance Target Attack Radar System), the KC-135, the RC-135, and others—help manage air combat, track moving targets on the ground, refuel aircraft to extend their range and endurance, and provide a variety of intelligence and electronic warfare (EW) capabilities. They are linchpins of not just U. S. air operations but also of the Pentagon’s overall concept for joint operations.

Until recently, the PLAAF has only aspired to such capabilities, and in the realm of in-flight refueling its capabilities remain minimal. With the deployment of the KJ-2000 AEW&C platform and multiple EW aircraft based on the Y-8, however, it has begun to make progress in a number of these areas. These specialized aircraft exist in small numbers and it is not at all clear how adept the PLAAF is in operating and exploiting these emerging capabilities, nor do we know how well they are integrated into Chinese operational con­cepts. But the steps we have seen them taking are significant and bear very close attention going forward.

Shen Pin-Luen

China’s aviation industry has been plagued by problems of inefficiency, redundant leadership, and overlapping organizational and bureaucratic struc­tures. In a closed system that had a planned economy and prioritized military development, such problems would not create much of an impact. But along with the inception of reform and opening-up and People’s Liberation Army (PLA) modernization, problems in China’s outdated aviation industry began to surface, prompting the People’s Republic of China (PRC) leadership to ini­tiate a series of reforms. In January 2006, the PRC State Council released the National Guideline on Medium and Long-term Program for Science and Tech­nology Development (2006-2020), which listed the development of large air­craft as a key national science and technology project.1 In May 2008, China established the Commercial Aircraft Corporation of China, Ltd. (COMAC), and in November 2008, China merged China Aviation Industry Corporation I (AVIC I) and China Aviation Industry Corporation II (AVIC II) to found China Aviation Industry Corporation (AVIC). This overhaul of the aviation sector is an indication that the pace of development and reform in China’s avi­ation industry is picking up. Therefore, China’s determination and injection of resources into the industry should not be underestimated by the outside world.

Due to the complexity of the development of China’s aviation industry and China’s tight control, most of the public information about the sector is general in nature and gives only an overview and the objectives of the industry. Truly useful analysis and documentation are rare. Therefore, this article seeks to provide a relatively objective and comprehensive analysis of the issue based on available information and personal observations.

In addition to acquisition and coproduction of the Su-27, China also con­tinued to pursue indigenous development efforts in parallel through the J—10 fighter program, which drew significantly on Israeli-rooted technology and design assistance.124 Defense collaboration between the two countries was in full swing as early as 1984 with arms sales reaching an estimated $3.5 billion in that year alone.125 A great deal of speculation remains regarding the amount and type of technical assistance Israel provided in the development of the J—10, but open source materials clearly indicate that Israel used some expertise gained from developing the U. S.-financed Lavi fourth-generation fighter to assist in the devel­opment of the J—10.126 It is difficult to determine whether the design assistance provided by the Israelis on the J—10 rises to the level of codevelopment as articu­lated in the model. It is likewise difficult to determine from open source materi­als what, aside from money, China offered Israel in exchange for design assistance on the J—10. One logical possibility is that Beijing shared technical information on the missiles it sold to countries hostile to Israel—Iran being a prime example. Arguments have also circulated that China had access to a Pakistani F-16, parts of which it may have reverse engineered and integrated into the J—10. The J—10 is clearly not a Lavi clone, however. It has significant design differences from the Lavi including its larger size, canard positioning, wing platform, and two-dimensional air intake.127 It was originally designed to use the Israeli Elta EL/M-2035 radar, which can simultaneously track six air targets and lock onto the four most-threat­ening, but is also able to incorporate Russian and Chinese avionics. Both the origi­nal J—10 and the J-10B/AS/AB upgrade variants that came into PLAAF service in 2006 sport specially designed Russian Lyul’ka Saturn AL-31N turbofan engines.128

Israel was China’s second largest source of military aviation technology transfer in the 1990s.129 While this data point is undeniable, some clarification should be added. Russian arms sales to China during the 1990s topped those of all other countries combined; Israel’s stake in the market was trivial by compari­son. Nevertheless, it assisted Chinese military aviation in several other areas. In the mid-1990s Israel agreed to sell China its Phalcon Airborne Early Warning and Control (AEW&C) platform and the Harpy unmanned aerial vehicle. At the time, some defense experts rated the Phalcon as the most advanced AEW&C sys­tem in the world. This might explain why China approached Israel rather than Russia for access to the technology. With Western arms embargoes still in full force, there was a very short list of states willing and able to sell China advanced military aviation hardware. Israeli Aircraft Industries (IAI) received an initial $319 million deposit from China to secure the Phalcon. News of the deal pro­voked a strong reaction in Washington, where there was growing concern over Chinese military modernization, particularly as it applied to a potential Taiwan scenario. Chinese military planners understood that in order to prevail in a Tai­wan scenario (with U. S. military intervention likely), it was essential to control the airspace over the strait. The first Gulf War confirmed to Beijing the extent of the gap between the PLAAF and its potential U. S. rival. AEW&C was one of a set of capabilities that China needed to develop in order to stand a chance of contest­ing the U. S. Air Force over the Taiwan Strait. From Israel’s perspective, a supplier – client relationship with a rising power like China was a golden opportunity for its small yet capable indigenous defense industries.

Israel ultimately decided that its relationship with the United States was too important to jeopardize, and in July 2000 it canceled the Phalcon sale and refunded China’s deposit. Beijing was furious when Israel announced it was backing out of the deal. Prime Minister Ehud Barak had promised that China would receive Phalcon technology, leading President Jiang Zemin to make pub­lic statements to that effect.130 Jiang lost face over what turned out to be empty promises and a substantial diplomatic rift between the two sides ensued.131

Since the Phalcon deal fell through in 2000, China has pursued its own domestic AEW&C development program, encountering numerous difficulties along the way. In 2006 a prototype aircraft undergoing flight testing crashed in Anhui province, killing 40 people, among them 35 technicians who were inti­mately involved with the project.132 China has since succeeded in producing several types of AEW&C aircraft: the KJ-200, based on the Soviet Yak-8 trans­port, and the KJ-2000, based on the Russian A-50 MAINSTAY airframe.133 The PLAAF has taken possession of, and is presumably operating, at least four KJ-2000s.134 Little is known about the exact capabilities of these aircraft, though there is speculation that they are similar in design, though technically inferior, to the Phalcon.135 The degree to which China’s AEW&C aircraft were developed domestically remains an open question. Despite the fact that Israel cancelled its sale of the Phalcon, it is not implausible that it might have pro­vided China design and technical assistance after the fact.

Israel’s reversal on the Phalcon damaged its military aviation technology transfer relationship with China (and also affected overall bilateral relations), but the Harpy fiasco in 2004 was the knock-out punch. Designed to “detect, attack, and destroy radar emitters with a very high hit accuracy"’ the Harpy is an unmanned aerial vehicle (UAV) with all-weather capability.136 Its range, the fact that it is launched from a ground vehicle outside the immediate battlespace, and its ability to neutralize SAM and radar sites for long periods of time made the Harpy a sought – after item for Chinese military planners looking out over the Taiwan Strait. The Harpy deal was negotiated in the mid-1990s, with China having taken possession of around one hundred of the UAVs by 1999.137 The deal was reported to the United States at the time it was negotiated and although there were objections, Washington did not pressure Israel to cancel it. Because the Harpy was a system wholly designed and produced by Israel there was no basis to block the sale on the grounds of illicit technology transfer. It was only when China sent its Harpy inventory back to Israel for service and repair in 2004 that the United States objected. The Bush adminis­tration claimed that the true purpose was to upgrade the systems with new sensors that could detect radar emitters even when they are not actively transmitting a sig­nal.138 Taiwan was reportedly already in possession of the new, upgraded Harpy.139

Concerned about the threat the Harpy posed in the case of a Taiwan sce­nario, the United States demanded that Israel not return the drones that China had already purchased and thus legally owned. What finally happened to Chi­na’s Harpy aircraft remains unclear (at least in open source material).140 Israel did refund China a considerable sum of money related to the UAV upgrade indicating that some part of the work was not completed, though whether this included technical upgrades (as Washington claimed) or routine maintenance is still unknown.141 There is also the possibility that Israel confiscated Harpy components and paid China off in order to mitigate political fall-out over the incident. Whatever the case, the Harpy episode marked the last significant military aviation transfer between Beijing and Jerusalem. It also had negative repercussions for U. S.-Israeli relations: Amos Yaron, Director General of Isra­el’s Ministry of Defense, resigned after the incident.

Ukraine also emerged as a source of advanced military aviation tech­nology during this period. It has not played as prominent a role in equipping the PLAAF as has Russia, but Ukraine has served as an important conduit for Russian military hardware that China has been unable to procure directly. In 2000-2001, the Ukrainian firm Progress reportedly supplied both Iran and China with Soviet Kh-55 cruise missiles, which have an active range of 3,000 kilometers and can be armed with both nuclear and conventional war – heads.142 The highly accurate guidance system used in the Kh-55 was more advanced than anything China was producing indigenously at the time, and expanded the capability of its aged bomber fleet (the Kh-55 is an air-to-sur – face missile fired solely from bomber platforms). Around this time China also gained access to a single Su-33 (air frame T-10K-7) prototype from Ukraine.143 China has used this aircraft as a template for its J-15 naval fighter, which is reported to have made a successful test flight in August 2009.144

From 1989 to 2004, China actively pursued acquisition of advanced aircraft and aviation technology from Russia, Ukraine, and Israel; used a combination of coproduction and reverse engineering to make advances in subsystem design and manufacturing; and came up with innovations in its own capacity to build fighter aircraft at least partially based on indigenous design. China also appears to have greatly expanded its efforts to steal restricted technologies by way of industrial espionage using both traditional and computer network intrusion techniques. While there are few documented examples citing fighter aircraft technology, there are a number of cases where China obtained, or attempted to obtain, restricted dual-use technologies from the United States using surreptitious means. By 1993 approximately 50 percent of the 900 technology transfer cases handled by U. S. federal law enforcement agencies involved the Chinese.145 Cases of cyber espio­nage that track back to China provide more detail about the types of military avia­tion-related technical data attackers are after. It should be noted that the relative anonymity afforded cyber attackers often leads to problems of attribution. Foren­sic investigators can trace the origin of a certain exploit back to a computer server in China, for example, but the attacker might be using Chinese commercial net­works, which are notoriously porous, as an intermediary point. We therefore only cite examples where evidence exists linking the source of espionage attempts to China, and suggests the involvement of the military or intelligence organizations.

Although the intrusions did not target fighter technology, the 2004 attacks on a number of computer networks belonging to the U. S. military and defense contractors that came to be known as Titan Rain were definitively traced back to a location in Guangdong Province by a computer specialist working at Sandia National Laboratories in New Mexico. The specialist, a former U. S. military intel­ligence officer, surreptitiously monitored the activities of the attackers after the Sandia networks he was responsible for safeguarding were attacked. He discov­ered an operation that involved 20 or more individuals connecting through three separate end nodes in Guangdong. While this is not hard proof of a Chinese mili­tary or intelligence operation, the sort of data being targeted suggests a military end user. The attackers reportedly breached the systems of the Redstone Arsenal, home of Army Aviation and Missile command, and stole technical data for the mission planning system used by U. S. Army helicopters, as well the Falconview 3.2 flight planning software used by both the U. S. Army and Air Force.146

Chinese cyber espionage operations aimed at extracting sensitive technical data began in the period under consideration (1989-2004), and expanded rap­idly in terms of both volume and sophistication since. In a 2009 case, computer networks belonging to at least one defense contractor working on the F-35 Joint Strike Fighter program were reportedly compromised, giving intruders access to Pentagon computer systems that contained sensitive, though not classified, data on the J-35’s design, performance, and electronics systems. There is not as much evidence linking this exploit to Chinese attackers, but U. S. officials interviewed about the breach reported that it had been traced to China and bore the hallmark of a state-sponsored operation.147 In this particular case, the stolen information could not be used to reverse engineer F-35 systems, but could have been helpful in learning how to better defend against them.

This chapter has examined the evolution of China’s military aviation industry over the decades and discussed the various procurement strategies it has used at different points in time. The approach has been based on four main vari­ables: (1) the state of China’s domestic economy, in particular the state of its tech­nological and industrial base; (2) the technological capacity of China’s military aviation sector; (3) the willingness of foreign countries to sell China advanced military aircraft, key components, armaments, and related production technol­ogy; and (4) China’s bargaining power vis-a-vis potential sellers of military air­craft and aviation technology. Between 1989 and 2004 China was able to diver­sify avenues of aviation technology procurement. Expansion occurred as a result of favorable developments across each of the four main variables. China’s civil­ian technology base grew as a result of trade and foreign investment, generat­ing access to dual-use technologies which the military aviation sector lever­aged to improve design and production capacity. Rapprochement with Russia once again gave China access to advanced military hardware that was blocked by Western embargoes post-Tiananmen. Moreover, China’s newfound economic clout afforded it a much stronger negotiating position with a Russian state that faced myriad economic difficulties after the Soviet collapse. Defense cooperation with Israel, though ultimately problematic, provided China a window of access to technical knowledge and design expertise which moved its aviation industry for­ward. Engagement with the outside world resulted in an increased Chinese pres­ence abroad, providing avenues to restricted military technologies via espionage. Finally, cyber espionage emerged in the later part of this time period as a new vec­tor for the extraction of data related to restricted military aviation technologies.

Looking Forward: Chinese Military Aviation Technology Procurement (2004-Present)

Building

China’s overall economic development continues to progress rapidly, both in terms of growth and technological sophistication. Investment by devel­oped countries, imports of sophisticated production technology, and indige­nous production have created an advanced-Chinese economy that approaches world-class standards in many areas. Chinese companies do not necessarily have full knowledge of all the advanced technologies embodied in equipment operated on Chinese territory, but the situation has changed fundamentally. The government’s focus on developing indigenous innovation with Chinese characteristics (zizhu chuangxin, emphasizes the importance of for­

eign technology and knowledge in moving China’s overall level of industrial and scientific development forward. The most recent iteration of the Medium – and Long-Term Science and Technology Development Plan (MLP), released in 2006, outlines a path to “promote original innovations by reassembling exist­ing technologies in different ways to produce new breakthroughs and absorb and upgrade foreign technologies.”148 The idea at the core of this approach is to assimilate and absorb preexisting foreign technologies and in the process of merging them with domestic technologies, realize new breakthroughs and improvements.149 The decision of many advanced Western companies to locate technology R&D labs in China has led to an improvement of China’s technol­ogy knowledge base which has in turn enabled overall economic progress.

This economic progress has benefited the Chinese defense industry in general and the military aviation industry in particular. Globalization has increased China’s access to technologies originally developed by the West for military applications, and then applied widely for civilian purposes. This allows China to benefit from a “spin-off, spin-on” dynamic to apply these technolo­gies to its defense industries. Advances in information technology (IT) and communications technology are providing new design tools and the basis for improved avionics systems that can be applied to Chinese fighters. Key compa­nies in this sector such as Huawei and Julong were founded by ex-PLA officers and are closely tied to the Chinese defense industry.150 China has been involved in commercial j oint ventures with Western aviation companies since the 1980s, producing subassemblies and parts for civilian aircraft and has continued to expand its role in the global aviation supply and production chain. However, unlike the IT sector, there have been relatively few opportunities for Chinese civil/military aviation integration and technology sharing.151 This is partly due to the limited applicability of civilian aviation technologies for military use. Compartmentalization also prevents useful transfers of personnel, knowledge of production practices, and materials. Commercial and military aviation proj­ects are conducted by different enterprises on different production lines with apparently little or no interaction on areas that might be of common interest.152 There are a few isolated cases where technologies and process improvements derived from civilian production may spill over to the military side, but this is not an institutional feature of the Chinese aviation industry.153 Despite these inefficiencies and continuing problems, the Chinese military aviation indus­try’s ability to “build” a more sophisticated PLAAF has advanced significantly.

China’s potential to continue to “build” its way to a more sophisticated air force in the future depends on the degree to which it will be able to meet its indigenous innovation objectives, which continue to depend on access to advanced foreign technologies. Examples of true indigenous innovation are still few and far between. Even with the benefit of “follower’s advantage” Chi­nese military aviation is still unable to copy some subsystems at a level equiva­lent to those of the original. Continuing limitations are most apparent in the industry’s inability to design a turbofan engine that meets the requirements of its fleet of indigenously produced advanced fighters. In April 2009, the head of Aviation Industries of China (AVIC), Mr. Lin Zuoming, admitted that the WS – 10A (China’s most advanced turbofan at the time) was still “unsatisfactory in its quality” and that engine production for military aircraft has been a “chronic illness” in China’s defense industry.154 AVIC is investing $1.5 billion into jet engine research and development to try to overcome persistent problems with quality control and reliability.155

Flight tests of the new J-20 stealth fighter may reveal whether China has overcome this hurdle. Chinese news sources reported after the initial test flight that two J-20 prototypes had been produced, one with a Russian engine and the other with an indigenously produced engine. It is not clear which engine is coupled with which prototype. Photographic analysis reveals that the exhaust nozzles of one prototype are “jointed in a way that implies thrust vectoring capability”156 China has been using the thrust-vectored Russian AL-31FN-M1 in its two-seat J-10 AS/BS fighters since 2006.157 This is most likely the engine in one of the J-20 prototypes, although there is speculation that the production model will be powered by thrust-vectored WS – 10G turbofans, manufactured by the Shenyang Liming Aircraft Engine Company.158 If Chinese media reports are accurate and one prototype sports a non-thrust vector capable indigenous engine (probably, based on past instances where Russian and Chinese engines were simultaneously tested in the same model aircraft), this engine is likely some version of the WS-10.159

The unveiling of the J-20 is the most significant recent event for Chi­nese military aviation. The J-20 prototype’s maiden flight coincided with U. S. Defense Secretary Robert Gates’ January 2011 visit to China. Learning of the successful test flight, Gates commented, “They may be somewhat further ahead in the development of that aircraft than our intelligence had earlier predicted.” The J-20 reportedly made a second round of successful test flights on April 17, 2011, to commemorate the sixtieth anniversary of the PLAAF.160 Most recently, Chinese military bloggers posted photos of the J-20 making what appears to be a third and fourth set of test flights.161 The fighter is expected to enter into service with the PLAAF between 2018 and 2020. While the development of J-20 prototypes is a significant achievement for Chinese military aviation, the flight tests provide no insight into whether the industry is any closer to over­coming its engine impediment or whether it has mastered critical challenges in avionics and radar. J-20 test pilot Xu Yongling made statements to the Chinese media touting technological breakthroughs embodied in the fighter, including supersonic cruise capability.162 Publicly available data on the test flights does not provide enough evidence to support Xu’s assertion. About the only thing that can be determined from them is that China can produce a few prototypes of an aircraft that appears to incorporate some stealth technology and that one of these prototypes can be flown for a short period of time without crashing. Interpreting the appearance of the J-20 as proof that China is right on the heels of U. S. military aviation capability is a misinterpretation of the known facts. Russian and Western military aviation experts maintain that the PLAAF is still 15 to 20 years behind the most advanced air forces in terms of equipment.163

The Battle over a Third Party focuses on the role of military power in a possible conflict over a third party, and this game’s scope is the most limited of the three described because it is confined to a third party territory or region. In this game, there is a threat of one major power using force either in an active defense of a third party or in an attack against the other major power to maintain the third party’s independence. Military forces have a direct impact here, and both pow­ers have a fairly well defined role in the ongoing military competitions. There are many possible stratagems available to both sides, but the most severe threat is seizing physical control of the third party. Lesser threats include large-scale stra­tegic attacks, blockades, and other higher-end compellence mechanisms.

The stakes are the most interesting aspect of this competition. The game can have highly asymmetric stakes, with one power viewing control of the third party as much more central to its national interests than does the other power. This asymmetry creates interesting conflict dynamics but, fortunately, little chance of escalation because the degree of importance both sides place on the conflict is below the threshold required for either to escalate into a much more costly general war.3 By choosing this game, both sides implicitly declare they have limited interests that do not extend to general war. And while military power in the confines of the third party game is the main focus, the third party situation is not the driving force for both sides’ overall military strategy and choices—though it may be the central focus for the side with the higher stakes.

Because of its non-zero-sum nature, military improvements or political posturing by either side may not require a countermove, though changes that improve the capabilities of one side in the third party battle may cause the other side to respond directly if interest levels are high enough. In other words, each power will escalate or deescalate within the game as interests demand. Addi­tionally, this game may be played alone or as part of the Game of Influence. Importantly, if a Battle over a Third Party is played within the Great Power Game, the nature of the game is fundamentally altered as the third party com­petition now plays a role in a broader, higher-stakes game.

Rationale/explanation for the game. Military power is used here in a more traditional sense than in the Game of Influence, though the use of that power is limited in scope. Both sides, for any number of reasons, have decided that they have interests in a third party nation that are important enough to engage mili­tary force to achieve. Neither side views the Battle over a Third Party as part of a larger, more comprehensive game. Military capabilities are generally highly tailored to the contours of a particular conflict, and the evaluation of forces is viewed through this conflict’s lens. Other interactions and games between the two powers will undoubtedly occur, but those interactions are largely divorced from this military context and are reflective of interests that exist outside this limited contest.

This asymmetry is particularly important to the game’s outcome as the military capabilities of the two parties begin to approach parity in the area of interest. The differences in stakes will alter the relative attractiveness of vari­ous defense strategies.4 Essentially, the gains associated with some strategies will no longer be worth the risks for the side with lesser stakes in the game. And, of course, the changes in the two sides’ relative military capabilities impact the potential game outcome by altering how well either side can accomplish particu­lar missions or thwart the other power’s ability to accomplish its own missions.

What would it look like if the United States and China engaged in this game? The Battle over a Third Party has been the main competition between the United States and China during the last 60 years. This competition has manifested itself both in Taiwan and Korea, where control was seen as by both parties as important but was not seen as a means of defining regional influence or a greater direct competition between the United States and China. Instead, for the United States, these were elements of the broader Cold War competi­tion with the Soviet Union and were seen as part of a perceived Communist threat that existed throughout the world. Both of these conflicts seem to have been about narrow interests and not about serving as a stepping-stone to a larger competition.5

In this game, the biggest unknown when the forces begin to approach local parity in capabilities is how each side defines operational success or fail­ure. Taiwan is an illuminating example because of the asymmetric levels of interests and the very different potential standards for success or failure on each side. China regards Taiwan as one of its core interests, but the United States does not elevate its interests in Taiwan to a comparable level.6 In the mil­itary dimension, these differing levels of interests might manifest themselves through planners on the two sides defining success or failure in different ways. For instance, a Chinese planner might want to possess a military option to land a significant ground force on Taiwan that could be used in extreme cases and that would use Chinese air and missile forces as tools for accomplishing the mission. On the other side, an American planner might be satisfied with pre­venting the Chinese from effectively exploiting a landing and would therefore be more willing to accept higher levels of damage from Chinese air and mis­sile forces. Because the bars of success or failure are different for both sides, improvements in one dimension such as airpower might not increase military capabilities enough to deny a fairly modest military objective and therefore might not be enough to alter the “balance.”

The forces necessary for each side to succeed in these competitions may be far from symmetrical, and the ways in which the forces are trained could likewise be very different. For instance, a U. S. force optimized for conflicts near China might look very different from typical U. S. force configurations, unless the infrastructure (bases, country access, level of competence of military part­ners) for U. S. forces proved to be far more robust and extensive than in any other part of the world. Much of the U. S. force structure was inherited from the Cold

War, and even the modest changes from Cold War threat assumptions have tended to adapt the force to operate under more benign instead of more hostile conditions.7 These changes included reliance on unfettered access to large bases and entry areas for effective employment of air and ground forces, judging that the threat to those bases that existed during the Cold War was gone.8

In almost any plausible near – to mid-term Sino-U. S. confrontation, China would have home-field advantage, at least relative to the United States. Whether across the Taiwan Strait, over the Senkaku/Diaoyu Islands, or in the South China Sea, Beijing would be able to bring more of its military power to bear than could the United States. This is especially true in the early hours, days, and weeks of a conflict. For the PLAAF, that means that it will at least initially likely enjoy a numerical advantage over U. S. forces, and—depending on the circumstances— perhaps even over the combined forces of the United States and its partners.32

Operating close to China’s shores could also bring the PLAAF’s modern SAMs into the picture. Figure 8-3 shows the ranges of today’s S-300PMU2 (200 kilometers) and tomorrow’s S-400 (400 kilometers) in the context of the Taiwan Strait and South China Sea areas.33

At maximum range these missiles can engage only high-flying targets, but many important U. S. aircraft—the “force multipliers” described above along with high-endurance UASs like Global Hawk—typically operate at pre­cisely those altitudes. Especially after the S-400 enters Chinese service, those U. S. platforms will either have to operate in the face of a much-increased SAM threat or fly farther away from the action and so compromise their perfor – mance.34 U. S. bombers carrying cruise missiles might be compelled to launch farther from the Chinese coast, which would limit the depth into the mainland that the missiles could reach. Closer in, these advanced SAMs could constrain the operation of even high-performance fighter aircraft; nonstealthy, so-called legacy jets—the F-15, F-16, and F/A-18—would be greatly at risk if called upon to fly within the S-300/400’s envelope.

Figure 8-3. Range Rings for S-300PMU2 and S-400 Surface-to-Air Missiles

S-300PMU-2 range

The Big Picture: The PLAAF Today and Tomorrow

If the PLAAF is not capable of challenging U. S. airpower in a nearby scenario like a Taiwan Strait contingency, its major items of equipment are no longer the main culprits. Its radical downsizing and steady modernization have, since 1995, brought the Chinese air force up to advanced world stan­dards in many regards. Its growing fleet of fourth-generation fighters, stock­piles of advanced air-to-air and air-to-surface weaponry, emerging AEW&C and EW capabilities, and up-to-date surface-to-air defenses represent remark­able advances in technology and capacity since 1995.

In the event of a confrontation farther afield—for example, in the Malacca Strait, or closer to home, in the Spratly Islands—the PLAAF’s capabil­ities remain limited. Conducting high-tempo combat operations is much more challenging 1,500 or 2,500 kilometers from home versus 200 or 300 kilome­ters. Under these conditions, the PLAAF would require a much more robust in-flight refueling capability and enough AEW&C assets to compensate for the
absence of ground-based control. Recent years have seen the PLAAF begin to step up to the latter challenge; its intentions regarding tanker aircraft, on the other hand, appear modest. With only a dozen or so H-6Us operational and no known plans to acquire more than the four MIDAS tankers it ordered in 2005, aerial refueling does not appear to be a current priority for the Chinese; this will have to change if the PLAAF is to project significant power more than a few hundred kilometers from Chinese territory.

Looking toward 2020, it seems likely that the PLAAF will continue on the path it has been following since the mid-1990s. This will mean the retire­ment of many J-7s and early model J-8s accompanying the acquisition of addi­tional advanced fighters. It seems unlikely that China will choose to replace its own “legacy” fighters on a one-for-one basis, so the PLAAF will probably con­tinue to shrink, though not at the pace we have witnessed over the last 15 years.

The PLAAF’s decision to “indigenize” the Su-27 as the J-11B rather than build licensed Su-30s suggests a growing confidence in the ability of China’s defense industry to produce complex modern weapons. We might therefore expect to see a larger and larger proportion of Chinese-built hardware filling out the PLAAF’s inventory. We can also expect China to progressively upgrade its fourth-generation inventory to accommodate new weapons, radars, and avi­onics, as it already appears to have done with its Su-27s—to fire R-77/AA-12 MRAAMs—and the J—10, by developing the J-10B.

By 2020, the PLAAF may be operating at least small numbers of J—20 stealth fighters; we should also expect to see the introduction or enhancement of other PLAAF platforms and weapons. These include the following: more, and more advanced, AEW&C capabilities, and improved EW capacities overall; improved air-to-air weapons, including a very long-range AAM to threaten an adversary’s high-value assets like the E-3; the proliferation of “smart” weapons throughout the force; increased use of drones and UASs, likely including ana­logues to the U. S. Predator and Global Hawk aircraft; and continued deploy­ment of the indigenous HQ-9 long-range SAM and acquisition of the S-400.

Although it seems less likely given available evidence, by 2020 China could also be well on the way to equipping the PLAAF with a new long-range strike aircraft to replace its antediluvian H-6s as bombers and cruise missile carriers. The PLAAF might also seek to increase its modest long-range airlift capabilities. Receiving the 34 Il—76 Candids it bought in 2005 would appre­ciably expand its transport fleet, but, as with tankers, the development and/or acquisition of more airlifters beyond those already booked would be needed if the PLAAF sought to support power projection over long distances.

The progress made in recent years by the PLAAF is impressive. Not too long ago, it was an unsophisticated congeries of ancient aircraft and weapons, its pilots poorly trained and poorly supported. As late as the early 1990s, it was likely too weak to have even defended China’s home airspace against a serious, modern adversary. In the early – to mid-1990s, as Chinese doctrine changed from focusing exclusively on territorial defense to contemplating lim­ited power projection campaigns, the PLAAF found itself confronting a num­ber of daunting learning curves that led from where it was to where it needed to be to fulfill its new missions. In terms of major items of equipment, it has successfully climbed many of these curves and appears at least to understand the ones that are left, even if it is not yet poised to climb them.

The revolution in the PLAAF’s order of battle is over. It has made up the four decades separating the MiG-17/MiG-19 generations from the Su – 27SK /Su-30MKK generation in just 15 remarkable years. Whether or not the PLAAF can close the remaining gaps between its capabilities and those of the most advanced air forces remains to be seen. But given how it has transformed itself over the last 15 years, one would be foolish to bet heavily against it.

The origin of China’s aviation industry can be traced back to April 18, 1951, when China established the Bureau of Aviation Industry under the Min­istry of Heavy Industry for the purpose of maintaining military aircraft. In other words, China’s aviation industry started from military applications. At the end of December 1953, the former Soviet Union transferred manufac­turing technology for the Yak-18 trainer (including engine) to China, along with complete technical information and prototypes. In July 1954, the Yak-18 trainer was assembled successfully at China Nanchang Aircraft Manufacturing Corporation (CNAMC) under the designation CJ-5. In October of the same year, the former Soviet Union transferred manufacturing technology for the production of MiG-17 fighters to China. In September 1956, Shenyang Air­craft Corporation assembled the MiG-17 fighter successfully, which the PRC named the J-5. These two types of aircraft are milestones in the development of China’s aviation industry. On June 4, 1965, the Q-5 attack aircraft, a vari­ant of the later J-6 that CNAMC produced from copying the MiG-19, made its maiden flight. Mass production of the Q-5 began in 1969. The Q-5 can be regarded as the first military jet developed and manufactured by China.

China’s Bureau of Aviation Industry was reorganized successively into the Third Ministry of Mechanical Industry (1960-1982), the Aviation Ministry of Industry (1982-1988), and the Aviation and Astronautic Ministry of Indus­try (1988-1993). Starting in 1993, China ushered in three waves of organiza­tional transformation in its aviation industry.

The first wave began in 1993, when the PRC restructured the defense indus­tries under its direct administration into large, state-owned enterprise groups including China National Nuclear Corporation, China Aerospace Corporation (CASC), China Aviation Industry Corporation (CAIC), China Shipbuilding Cor­poration, and China Ordnance Industry Corporation. CASC and CAIC were incorporated by splitting the Ministry of Aerospace Industry. It was hoped that through an enterprise-oriented structure, the industry’s manufacture, research and development (R&D), maintenance, and sales could be integrated and better managed so as to enhance its operation and productivity, and the industry could be run and developed from the perspective of enterprise management.

The second wave began in 1998 when China abolished the Commission of Science, Technology, and Industry for National Defense (COSTIND), which was set up by the PLA in 1982, and created in its place an institution of the same name directly under the State Council. The new COSTIND’s main duties were to supervise production of military products and development of defense industry; study and formulate policies, regulations, and laws on the conver­sion of military technologies and products to civilian use; and administer bid­dings from defense firms. In the same year, the PLA formed the General Arma­ment Department (GAD) to assume the procurement function of the former COSTIND, and integrate equipment-related offices within the General Staff and General Logistics systems and some procurement units under the General Logistics Department. The GAD is responsible for defense procurement, life­cycle management of weapons, and maintenance of the weapons research and testing base of the PLA.

In 1999, China divided each of the big five military conglomerates into two independent companies, forming 10 major defense science and technol­ogy groups. In 2002, China created China Electronics Technology Group Cor­poration (CETC) as the 11th large military enterprise group.2 One of the recon­struction efforts is to split CASC into AVIC I and AVIC II.

It was out of this climate that China embarked on its third wave of defense industrial organizational reform. China’s 2006 defense white paper outlines the development direction of its defense industry and the focuses on “consolidating its foundation, making independent innovation, and speeding up the implemen­tation of the strategy of transition and upgrading, so as to ensure the produc­tion and supply of military equipment and promote the development of national economy"’3 In September 2007, COSTIND, the State Development and Reform Commission (NDRC), and State-owned Assets Supervision and Administration Commission (SASAC) jointly issued the “Guiding Opinions on Promoting the Transformation of Defense Industries into Joint-Stock Enterprises.”

This document encourages military enterprises to implement share­holding system reform and structural transformation, while making full use of civilian strengths in national defense building.4 In October of the same year, Hu Jintao revealed in his report to the 17th National Congress of the Com­munist Party of China (CPC) that the country should “adjust and reform the systems of defense-related science, technology and industry and of weapons and equipment procurement,” and “establish a sound system of weapons and equipment research and manufacture that integrate[s] military with civilian purposes and combine[s] military efforts with civilian support.”5 These devel­opments indicated that to facilitate military modernization, China was paving the way for the third wave of reform of the defense industry.

On April 1, 2008, China established a new state agency, the Ministry of Industry and Information Technology (MIIT), and reorganized COSTIND into the State Administration of Science, Technology, and Industry for National Defense (SASTIND), which is subordinate to the MIIT. The MIIT assumed authority to oversee the 11 major military-industrial enterprise groups origi­nally under COSTIND, basically achieving unified management over the mili­tary and civilian industries.

With regard to the aviation industry, AVIC I and AVIC II were set up with the goal of fostering internal competition and undertaking international outsourcing business as original equipment manufacturers (OEMs). The two conglomerates produce different lines of products to reduce overlapping busi­nesses. Nonetheless, the split caused resource diversion, redundancy, and low efficiency, and went against the growth-through-merger trend of the leading aviation giants in the world.

Once China decided to undertake the development of large aircraft, COMAC was founded in 2008, and AVIC I and AVIC II were merged to form AVIC. On the surface, the newly established groups look similar to their pre­decessors. However, they have completely new structures and market posi­tioning. The primary duties of COMAC include the design, assembly, sale, maintenance, and after-sale service of large passenger aircraft. AVIC is mainly responsible for the development and production of military aircraft, small to medium civil aircraft, helicopters, and engines, and for carrying out aviation research and flight testing. For its secondary tasks, AVIC also functions as a supplier to COMAC, manufactures airframes, engines, and airborne equip­ment for large passenger aircraft, and undertakes outsourcing business for for­eign civil aircraft companies. In addition, AVIC Commercial Aircraft Engine Co., Ltd. (ACAE) was set up in 2009 to be the main contractor producing the engine to be used in the large aircraft project.

Aviation Industry Corporation of China. AVIC has a registered capi­tal of RMB 64 billion, nearly 200 subsidiaries, and about 400,000 employees. The company has total assets reaching RMB 290 billion. The reorganization of AVIC was an endeavor to regroup and adjust each subsidiary according to its specialties, and realign and optimize company resources. After the reor­ganization, AVIC headquarters has 14 divisions directly under it in charge of 10 key business segments.6 At present, the restructuring of AVIC headquar­ters and subsidiaries has been completed, and consolidation of the 10 busi­ness segments is in full swing. After its birth in the wake of the reorganization, AVIC launched a development strategy of “market-oriented reform, center – of-excellence-based integration, capital operation, globalization-based devel­opment, and industrial-scale-based growth,” and “integration into the world aviation industry chain, integration into the regional economic development circles.” According to AVIC, the company is aiming to grow more than 20 per­cent annually and achieve 1 trillion yuan in sales by 2007.

Commercial Aircraft Corporation of China (COMAC) and AVIC Com­mercial Aircraft Engine Corporation (ACAE). COMAC has a registered capital of RMB 19 billion and six primary shareholders—SASAC, AVIC, the Shanghai Guosheng Group (representing the Shanghai Municipal People’s Government), Aluminum Corporation of China (CHINALCO), Shanghai Baosteel Group Corporation, and China Sinochem Group Corporation (Sinochem). COMAC can be regarded as a fully state-owned company of the PRC.7 COMAC leader­ship came from senior government officials; COMAC Chairman Zhang Qing – wei and General Manager Jin Zhuanglong are the former COSTIND Minister and Vice-Minister, respectively. COMAC is the executive body of China’s spe­cial science and technology project for the R&D of large passenger aircraft. It has three centers—the R&D Center, the Final Assembly Center, and the Cus­tomer Service Center, and a consortium of subsidiaries such as AVIC I Com­mercial Aircraft Co., Ltd. (ACAC), Shanghai Aircraft Design and Research Institute, and Shanghai Aircraft Manufacturing Co., Ltd. COMAC is respon­sible for the overall design, system integration, marketing, airworthiness certi­fication, and service of large passenger aircraft.

Short-term goals proposed by COMAC include the following: through the introduction and absorption of foreign technology and independent inno­vation, making breakthroughs in key technologies concerning the C919, and obtaining airworthiness certification; completing research and development of the ARJ21 regional aircraft, obtaining airworthiness certification, making delivery to customers, establishing mass-production capacities, and expand­ing market shares; and setting up a system of R&D, production, marketing, and customer service for civil aircraft. Long-term goals include achieving the industrialization and series production of civil aircraft; carrying out mainte­nance and repair of civil aircraft, developing financial leasing and other related businesses, and expanding the industry chain of the civil aviation sector; and becoming a civil aircraft manufacturer that owns independent intellectual property rights and enjoys international competitiveness.

With a registered capital of RMB 6 billion, ACAE is invested by its con­trolling shareholder AVIC and shareholders such as Shanghai Electric Group and Shanghai Guosheng Co., Ltd.8 The remaining 30 percent of ACAE shares is planned to be bought by private enterprises. The main function of ACAE is to carry out R&D, production, sales, and maintenance of civil aircraft engines, and to provide technical consultation. Its key tasks include constructing an engine R&D center and a basic technology center, recruiting engine experts at home and from abroad, establishing technical cooperation with foreign engine manufacturers, seeking to build up an international R&D team and hiring pro­fessional organizations for technical advice and marketing consultation.

Given continuing limitations in China’s domestic military aviation indus­try, the PLAAF’s ability to compete on an equal footing with the most advanced air forces will rest on China’s ability to purchase, acquire, or codevelop advanced military aviation technology from foreign sources or partners. This access may be problematic. The United States is likely to continue to ban arms exports to China and to restrict the transfer of advanced military technologies. U. S. pressure on the European Union to maintain its ban on arms sales and on European coun­tries and Israel to restrict the transfer of advanced military technologies will likely continue to restrict Chinese access from these countries. Ukraine has served as an important secondary point of access for Russian military aviation technology in the past, but its military aviation design and production capability lie primar­ily in the area of transport aircraft, limiting its ability to provide state-of-the-art fighter technologies. Ukrainian aerospace cooperation with China in recent years has focused primarily on civilian projects and military transports. The Ukrainian aviation firm Antonov signed an agreement with AVIC II in 1997 to help China develop a large transport aircraft and to assist in the design of light – and medium­sized transport platforms. Antonov has also agreed to improve the PLAAF’s exist­ing fleet of Y-8 turboprop aircraft.164

This leaves Russia as the only plausible source of advanced fighter air­craft and aviation technologies. Military aviation technology transfer is a key component of Sino-Russian relations. As this study has documented, the rela­tive bargaining power of the two countries has shifted over time as a function of economic status, threat perceptions, and shifts in the broader geostrategic landscape. The terms of transfer have been based on a calculus of dependence and risk.

China’s decision to violate the Su-27/J-11 coproduction contract in 2004 was an important factor influencing Russian decisionmaking on military avia­tion transfers to China. The official Chinese explanation, proffered only after Russia discovered that China was developing an indigenized J—11, was that the Su-27 no longer met the needs of the PLAAF. China was clearly aware that its decision to violate the contract with Russia would create strains in the relation­ship and might threaten Russia’s willingness to sell additional fighter aircraft or components, yet it went ahead anyway. This decision may have reflected China’s confidence that its domestic aviation industry could meet current and future aircraft needs of the PLAAF through indigenous development with­out Russian assistance. Alternatively, it may have reflected the belief based on experience that the Russian reaction would be minimal and would not impede future technology cooperation.

China may have miscalculated the scope of Moscow’s reaction to the aborted Flanker deal, possibly due to the belief that Russia was more reliant on China as a buyer than China was on Russia as a seller. There is obviously a much larger dimension to Sino-Russian relations than one failed weapons system deal, but the Russian side has cited repeatedly China’s 2004 contract breach as a reason it is reluctant to enter into another aircraft coproduction agreement with Beijing. It was likely a contributing factor in the stalled deal for China to purchase addi­tional Il-76/ CANDID heavy transports and Il-78/MIDAS tankers to extend the range of its Russian fighters. China’s primary indigenous in-flight refuel­ing platform, the H-6U tanker, has significant limitations in that it holds only 37,000 pounds of transferable fuel (PLAAF analysis calls for a platform capable of holding 80,000-100,000 pounds), and cannot be used to refuel China’s Su-30 fighters.165 On the other hand, Russia has continued to sell China S-300 surface – to-air missile systems and large quantities of advanced turbojet engines. Mos­cow also announced in November 2010 its willingness to sell China the Su-35 fighter, which it bills as “fourth generation plus”: a fourth-generation fighter that incorporates some fifth-generation technologies.166According to Sukhoi, the Su-35 will see a 10-year production run (through 2020) and be available for foreign purchase in 2011. Russia has not expressed interest in a coproduction agreement with China on the aircraft, nor is it likely to. In order to maintain control of its most advanced aviation technologies, Russia will likely offer a watered-down export version of the Su-35, possibly choosing to sell clients like India a more capable variant than China.167

A relationship of mutual advantage still exists, at least for now; each side’s perception of its interests and relative bargaining power will influence how much cooperation occurs and on what terms. A stronger Russian state under Putin has managed to rein in much of the economic chaos that plagued Rus­sia during the Yeltsin years and re-exert centralized control over many issues, including arms sales and technology transfers. The ability of Russian leaders to maintain economic growth and political stability in the face of fluctuating energy prices, systemic corruption, and limited economic reforms will affect Russia’s long-term bargaining power vis-a-vis China.168

Conclusion

The Chinese military aviation industry is now capable of producing two fourth-generation fighters roughly equal to those operated by the most advanced air forces: the J-10 (indigenously developed with Israeli assistance) and the J—11B (based on coproduction and reverse engineering of the Su-27). The J—15 naval fighter (based on reverse engineering of the Su-33), which was successfully test flown in 2009 and is likely to enter serial production in the next 3 to 5 years, will give China a capable fourth-generation fighter that can be operated from aboard aircraft carriers. China also now operates functional AEW&C systems in the KJ-200 and KJ-2000, though the technical sophisti­cation of these systems falls well short of systems fielded by the world’s most advanced air forces. Test flights of the new J-20 stealth fighter prototype dem­onstrate Chinese ambitions to build fifth-generation fighters, though the extent to which the J-20 will match the performance of state-of-the-art Russian and Western fighters is unclear. Significant hurdles in engine design, avionics, and systems integration are likely to delay operational deployment of the J-20 until around 2020. This would be 15 years after the F-22 entered service with the U. S. Air Force, supporting the overall assessment that the Chinese military avi­ation industry remains 15-20 years behind.

Over the last 20 years, China has benefited significantly from “follower’s advantage.” Its military aviation industry has accessed the innovations of oth­ers via coproduction, espionage, and reverse engineering while making limited developments in genuinely new technology. In order to bridge the technology gap, China’s military aviation industry will have to develop the capacity to master dual-use and especially militarily unique technologies that go into state-of – the – art fighter aircraft components. It will also have to develop the competence in systems integration to make the complex components work together. Developed countries with more advanced techno-industrial bases than China, like Japan and Taiwan, have struggled to achieve the systems integration know-how necessary to produce cutting-edge fighter aircraft. The ability to reach the technology fron­tier across a range of related civilian and dual-use modalities (for example, Japan’s space program) is not necessarily transferable to the military aviation realm. Even if the technical knowledge and industrial capacity exist, opportunity costs involved with developing single-use military technologies might prove too great. Further Chinese integration into the global economy will increase its capacity to develop and apply dual-use technologies, but legitimate access to “single-use” military specific technologies will remain problematic.

Restrictions on advanced Western military technologies are likely to remain in place, leaving Russia as the only viable source. China remains depen­dent in the near term on access to Russian engines to power its indigenous fourth-generation fighters,169 Russian spare parts for its inventory of Su-27 and Su-30 fighters, and Russian advanced surface-to-air missiles. The overall state of the Sino-Russian relationship will shape what systems and technologies Rus­sia is willing to transfer to China, and the bargaining power between Russia and China will influence whether transfers take place in the form of sales of aircraft and complete components, coproduction of aircraft and components, or codevelopment of new aircraft and technologies. Russia’s significant con­cerns about China as a potential strategic competitor and rival in the fighter export market suggest that Russia will seek to maintain a degree of control and leverage by supplying complete aircraft and components rather than trans­ferring advanced technologies, which is China’s preference. Paradoxically, the development of China’s aviation industry to the point where it can participate in aviation technology and fighter aircraft codevelopment efforts on a more equal footing will likely make Russia less willing to engage in such cooperation. Russia’s improved bargaining position as the sole source potentially willing to provide China with advanced aviation technology will likely allow Russia to exert more control over the aircraft and technologies it decides to sell.

Advanced technology is a key factor in the performance of state-of-the – art military fighters. Many relevant technologies have equivalent applications in the civilian sector and can be acquired legitimately in the global technol­ogy marketplace. But advanced fighters (especially fifth-generation aircraft) also incorporate a number of unique single-use technologies developed solely for their military applications that are not readily available on the commercial market. The likelihood that China will have no foreign source of advanced mil­itary aviation technology supports two important conclusions. First, the Chi­nese military aviation industry will have to rely primarily on indigenous devel­opment of advanced “single-use” military aviation technologies in the future.

The Chinese government is pursuing a range of “indigenous innovation” and technology development programs, but mastering advanced technologies becomes more difficult and expensive as a country moves closer to the tech­nology frontier. This leads to a second, related conclusion: China will likely rely more heavily on espionage to acquire those critical military aviation technolo­gies it cannot acquire legitimately from foreign suppliers or develop on its own.

The Great Power Game is the most comprehensive in scope and ranges across the majority of or all military and political spheres. It is therefore the game with the greatest focus on military power. The game’s central focus is on the opposing military, extending across the full spectrum of military actions and not confined to a single issue. Indeed, while conflicts over third parties may occur within this game, they are differentiated from those occurring at the same time as the Game of Influence because they are now primarily viewed as part of the larger competition between the two powers. For this reason, a Battle over a Third Party would have very different implications within the context of this game. In this game, the area of competition is no longer confined but spreads across the global arena.

The stakes in this overall game are largely symmetric, and both powers view all interactions in light of the overall game. As a result, this is a zero-sum game, and some type of response to every move is dictated simply because of the nature of the game. In other words, because all spheres are in play, not to respond to an action within any sphere is to assure some type of loss in the game. As a result, one of the game’s defining features is that it is extremely dif­ficult for a power to disengage from participation once the game begins. This makes the Great Power Game the most dangerous and costly of the games. Just as war termination methods are more crucial in this game because of the stakes, so are game termination strategies. Short of withdrawing and “losing” or of engaging in a decisive conflict, there is no viable way for a power to end the competition. This game is a road with few exit ramps. While there are plau­sible de-escalation routes in the Game of Influence, particularly for the power with the lesser stakes, once the situation escalates to a Great Power Game, a power must be concerned about every conflict or risk a loss in the overall game. This means that the Great Power Game is a superset of the Game of Influence and the Battle over a Third Party. As such, aspects of the two other games will likely occur in the Great Power Game, but they have a different character and a greater significance when played within the Great Power Game.

Despite its largely military focus, there are important political impli­cations to this game as well. One of the most notable is that alliances take on increased importance within the game’s context. Both powers will focus increasingly on building alliances, many of which will be military in nature. It becomes a question of each power attempting to convince nations to side with it over the adversary. The more expansive the coalition, the more influence and power one side will wield. In many ways, the sizes of alliances are viewed as one of the metrics of success.

Rationale/explanation for the game. Major military powers seek to ensure that their military capabilities will be sufficient to counter a wide range of threats from a variety of possible adversaries across the operational spec­trum. Even in an environment where there are no clear military adversaries, a major power will build capabilities as part of a hedging strategy against other powers.9 While a major power would thus develop capabilities to counter other powers, without the impetus of a Great Power Game, it would not predicate the majority of its military strategy and acquisition on the actions of only one potential adversary. But when the choice to engage in a Great Power Game is made, the strategy shifts to one dominated by forces and capabilities to counter the one specific adversary.

Engagement in this game would begin if the United States decided that a power had become an “an adversary capable of challenging U. S. power in all dimensions of modern warfare.”10 Both the “adversary” and “capability” are nec­essary for this decision. The power must be viewed as an adversary, as a threat to at least some substantial national interests, and as having the capability and not just the probable intentions to harm U. S. interests. This Great Power Game drives all other games the powers may play. Every military move by the other side would now require a U. S. reaction because the United States has declared, explicitly or otherwise, that any movement on the other side is detrimental in what is now a zero-sum game. Prior to engaging in this game, the United States could dismiss a wide range of military actions by the other side as unimport­ant to its overall strategic interests. But choosing to play the Great Power Game requires the United States to respond to any military improvement by its adver­sary as a potential threat. Challenges need to be directly countered in some fashion, lest there be a perception of waning strength that would undermine the nation’s position in the larger competition. This may mean building a new weapons system, acquiring more of a particular weapons system or platform, or a force posture move.

During this game, operations on the periphery of the opponent might occur, but they will have a different character because they are occurring within the Great Power Game context. Because of the high stakes of the Great Power Game, a defeat or strategic reversal for either party in a peripheral operation makes it far more plausible that the losing power will escalate in an attempt to reverse its perceived loss. This escalation could include attacks throughout the full strategic depth of the opponent both in terms of area targeted and of the relevant target set. This type of game therefore carries explicit risks of escala­tion for both parties as one side might transition from playing one of the lesser games and suddenly reframe the game in this much broader context. Such an escalation is extremely dangerous for both sides, and it appears to be a distinct possibility, particularly if internal politics drive one side to adopt a stronger stance against its adversary.

What would it look like if the United States and China were engaged in this game? The United States and China have never engaged in this sort of compe­tition. The most antagonistic period between the two powers occurred during the Korean War, and even then China was a secondary concern for the United States relative to the Great Power Game with the Soviet Union. U. S. forces were focused very heavily on the Soviets, and Soviet improvements throughout the spectrum of conflict were met and countered. This has not been the case with China, but a movement by either party to frame its own military improve­ments within the perspective of this type of competition would begin to drive the relationship toward a Great Power Game even in the absence of a clear decision to do so. These types of military moves may have unintended and serious consequences.

Despite the dangers, a Great Power Game remains an approach one or both sides may deliberately pursue. If so, the understanding of changes in the military balance would be dependent on how the participants perceived that competition. Just as the Cold War spurred many technological improvements in forces, a move to play a Great Power Game by the United States and China would likely result in the same type of technological competition. For instance, an improvement in a key intermediate metric, such as exchange ratio of fight­ers, may be sufficient for the other party to embark on a major improvement in its own forces to maintain performance in that area. This response would likely occur even if the opposing force improvement was not particularly relevant to the most likely or serious potential conflicts with the opponent.11 The ratio­nale for the other party would likely be the perceived necessity to improve the performance of its forces in relation to the intermediate metric, either in terms of operating in a neutral space or in terms of a particular conflict where war outcomes would be the focus. An alternative response might involve choos­ing a strategy that emphasizes deep attack and punishment as key elements of operations, which in turn might lead to the selection of new deep attack sys- tems.12 Ultimately, the key is not to focus on specifics, but to understand that if this game is being played, it fundamentally colors perceptions of both par­ties so that any line of operation has a very different level of importance from other games.

While this game is not being played by the United States, there is evi­dence that other nations in the Pacific region fear that this type of game could arise between the powers. In particular, recent defense white papers from Pacific region governments have expressed concern. Australia has been the most explicit. An Australian 2009 Defense White Paper states, “As other pow­ers rise, and the primacy of the United States is increasingly tested, power rela­tions will inevitably change. When this happens there will be the possibility of miscalculation. There is a small but still concerning possibility of growing con­frontation between some of these powers.”13 Other nations, such as Vietnam, express concerns about potential military competitions between “major pow – ers”14 and speak of a shifting balance of power toward “multipolarity.”15 That this concern has made a significant enough impression for these governments to address it in their official documents demonstrates that the possibility of such a game occurring resonates with other nations.

When viewed through the lens of these three games, more than one mil­itary balance must be assessed, as each game will present its own “balance.”16 A move by either side may have one impact in one game and an entirely dif­ferent impact in another, meaning that PLAAF modernization may achieve a variety of results.

You Ji

The transformation of the People’s Liberation Army Air Force (PLAAF) has entered a fast track, as new fourth-generation fighters (third-generation, by Chinese terminology) are introduced to the force. This has placed huge pres­sure on the air force to groom, select, and place talented commanders at vari­ous levels. This is an enormous task, as the service has about 250 posts at or above deputy corps level (major generals or above). The foundation of this large pool of senior officers is in a constantly changing mode, especially for the majority of major generals who come and go due to the PLA age rules. This paper concentrates on officers at the corps level (ШЩШ.), totaling about three dozen commanders. For reasons of space, it does not examine purely political officers. Instead, the emphasis is on professional airmen and those responsible for combat forces.

Today the PLAAF is about to reshuffle its top and regional leadership because of the age requirement and the reshuffling of the Central Military Commission (CMC) in the 18th Party National Congress to be held in 2012. For the top leaders, all PLAAF deputy commanders would step down before the 18th Congress, as they were all born in 1949 and thus—according to regu­lations governing officers at the deputy military region (DMR, ^KgiJ) level— must retire at 63. Among the regional commanders who are also at the DMR rank, two were born in 1947 and two in 1948, which means that they should step down this year or the next. The rest were all born in 1949 and will retire at about the same time with deputy commanders of the PLAAF. Thus, by 2012, over two dozen senior air force commanders at the rank of lieutenant general (including those in the political affairs system) will vacate their positions and make way for the new blood to take over. This changeover of the top PLAAF leadership is unprecedented.1

This paper examines the reshuffle of air force leadership in the context of CMC personnel changes in the 18th Party Congress, which will be equally pro­found. The impact on the PLAAF is significant, particularly if General Xu Qil – iang (#ЯЯ) gets promoted and General Ma Xiaotian (ЦШ^) returns to the air force, a very logical scenario. It argues further that the future PLAAF lead­ership will be made up of three age echelons:

■ Top leaders born at about the same time as the founding of the People’s Republic of China (Xu and Ma)

■ PLAAF deputy commanders and commanders at the military regions (MRs). (These leaders were born in the mid-1950s, with one or two born in the early 1960s.)

■ Younger officers appointed to corps rank, e. g., deputy chief of staff of the air force and deputy commander/chief of staff at the military region air force (MRAF) rank (born in the late 1950s and early 1960s).

Through its long-term effort on the introduction of foreign technology and independent R&D, China has built a complete aviation research, testing, and manufacturing system. Its aeronautical manufacturing technology is suffi­cient to support the production of airframes and airborne equipment for fourth – generation fighter aircraft. Airborne missiles made by China are close to inter­national standards. China has the capability to research, develop, and produce air-to-air and air-to-surface missiles. China has accumulated a certain degree of skill and experience in avionics technology, and is capable of supporting the R&D and manufacture of avionics system for fourth-generation fighters. China has also built up the capability to develop and produce the turbojet engine, the turbofan engine, and the turboshaft engine, and has successfully devel­oped and produced medium-thrust engines. Now China is making an all-out effort to develop high-performance, high-thrust engines.9 The achievements of China’s aviation industry in recent years involve both civil and military avia­tion. Civil aviation programs include the C919 and the ARJ21; military ones include a variety of fighter-bombers and larger aircraft, including the JH-7, J —10, J-11, H-6, airborne early warning and transport projects, and military engines. Each is detailed below.

C919. The C919 is the first large passenger aircraft built by China indige­nously. “C” is the first letter of China as well as COMAC, the acronym for Com­mercial Aircraft Corporation of China. It implies China’s intention to form an A-B-C tripartite competition with Airbus and Boeing in the world’s large pas­senger aircraft market. The number “19” means that the aircraft is designed to accommodate 190 seats. The designation shows that COMAC intends to build a series of larger aircraft. Preliminary design for the 168-seater C919 has been completed. The aircraft is due to make its maiden flight in 2014 and will be available for delivery in 2016. COMAC plans to produce 150 C919s a year and, ultimately, 3,000 aircraft in total.10

ARJ21. The ARJ21 is the first short-to-medium-range regional passen­ger aircraft developed and produced indigenously by China, and the first pas­senger aircraft that is developed and produced in strict accordance with inter­national airworthiness standards. The ARJ21 made its first flight in November 2008. The base model of the aircraft has a maximum range of 3,700 kilometers, and 2,225 kilometers when fully loaded. With a maximum take-off weigh of 40 tons, the ARJ21 has a designed capacity for 78 or 90 seats, and is expected to be sold for U. S. $28 million per aircraft, lower than the price of similar foreign aircraft. COMAC claims that it has received 210 orders for the ARJ21, includ­ing 30 from foreign customers. The first ARJ21 was scheduled to be delivered to its first customer at the end of 2010, but problems in late stages of flight test­ing delayed delivery, which is now expected in late 2012. According to unoffi­cial estimates, the ARJ21 will generate more than U. S. $1 billion for COMAC. Before the C919 can bring in any economic benefits, the ARJ21 will be the only source of revenue for COMAC.11

JH—7. The JH—7 resulted from an indigenous R&D program that China initiated in the 1980s for a new fighter-bomber. Its performance and role are roughly equivalent to those of the early models of the European Tornado fighter-bomber. The JH—7 is outfitted with twin WS—9 turbofan engines, and first entered service in the PLA Navy Air Force (PLANAF) to carry out anti­ship missions. The upgraded JH—7A has also entered service in the PLA Air

Force (PLAAF), and is capable of firing precision-guided weapons such as the KD-88 and YJ-91. The JH-7A is gradually replacing the old Q-5 strike air­craft, to furnish the ground-attack backbone of the PLAAF.

J—10. China started contact with Israel secretly in the 1980s, and intro­duced the technology that was used in the terminated Israeli Lavi fighter for the development of its own new fighter aircraft. The J-10 fighter made its maiden flight in 1998, and was delivered to the military in 2006. The performance of the J-10 is roughly comparable to that of the F-16C/D Block 30/40. Obser­vations on the aircraft in service in the PLAAF suggest that China utilized a phased approach toward the development of the plane. In the early stage, the J-10 had only air superiority capabilities. The J-10B, under development at the moment, will be fitted with the WS-10A turbofan engine, new radars, fire – control systems, and a modified intake. New multipurpose combat capabili­ties will be added to the aircraft including the capability to employ precision – guided weapons.12

J-11. China acquired the Su-27SK fighter in 1992, and secured an agree­ment for licensed production of 200 Su-27SK aircraft under the name of J-11. The assembly of the aircraft in China proceeded very slowly due to the lack of experience and because China intended to make partial improvement to the aircraft to enhance its performance by using its own technology. The J-11B, which China claims to be completely self-made, is outfitted with the indige­nously produced WS-10A engines, new radars, avionics systems, and air-to – air missiles. The J-11B already outperforms the early models of Su-27s.13

J-15. In addition, to pursue the development of an aircraft carrier fleet, China acquired the prototype (the T-10K) of the Su-33 carrier-based fighter from Ukraine earlier in the 21st century, for reverse engineering. In 2009, China produced the J-15 ship-borne fighter prototype based on the J-11B. The prototype is now undergoing testing at Shenyang Aircraft Corporation (SAC).14 At least five J-15 prototypes have been built and are undergoing test­ing. It is expected that early production examples will be introduced into ser­vice in 2012 or 2013.

J-20. China’s new-generation J-20 jet fighter first appeared in December 2010. Estimated J-20 weight is 20 tons, with a maximum takeoff weight of 36 to 38 tons, and an operational radius of more than 2,000 kilometers (over 1,240 miles). The J-20 has frontal stealth with careful fuselage design, but not rear­ward stealth, as its all-moving fins and vertical tailfins, front canards, and noz­zles are not currently compatible with an all-aspect low observable design such as the American F-22. This could change in time with, for example, introduc­tion of 2-D exhausts, and careful attention to incorporating radar absorbent structure, coatings, and edge treatments. The two prototypes are respectively fitted with AL-31 and WS-10 engines. They do not have vectored thrust and supersonic cruise ability, such as that possessed by the F-22. The J-20 fighter is thus still very much an experimental aircraft. Any combat-worthy production derivative can be expected to attain its initial operational combat capability no earlier than 2018 to 2020.

H-6M/K. Until very recently, China did not have the technology neces­sary for the development of new bombers and could not introduce them from abroad. Inspired by the U. S. experience of continuously upgrading the B-52 bomber, China upgraded the H-6 medium-range bomber as an air-launched cruise missile (ALCM) carrier. Fitted with four under-wing pylons, a few of the upgraded H-6Ms are believed to have entered service. China is researching on how to increase the number of H-6 pylons to six, and put in a new digital cock­pit, avionics systems, the D-30 engine (used in the Il-76), and ventral tanks. The new H-6 variant is designated H-6K. Given the H-6K’s combat radius and China’s cruise missile range, for the first time China will have the combat capability, in theory at least, to strike Guam from the air with H-6K-launched subsonic cruise missiles and, given current PRC research interests, perhaps with hypersonic air-launched missiles in the more distant future.15

Airborne Early Warning and Control (AEW&C). In the 1990s, a proposed PLAAF AEW&C deal with Israel was canceled because of U. S. pressure. How­ever, it is possible that through Israeli and Russian technical assistance, China nevertheless developed an airborne active phased-array radar system, subse­quently modifying four of its active Il-76 transports into the KJ-2000 AEW&C aircraft, and thus giving the PLAAF its first long-range airborne early-warn­ing capabilities. Earlier, China had modified the Y-8 turboprop transport (a derivative of the Antonov An-12) to incorporate search radar, generating the KJ-200 AEW&C aircraft. Together, these two types provide an early-warning capability covering both low and high altitudes.

Large transport aircraft. Xi’an Aircraft Industry Group (XAC) is respon­sible for the R&D and manufacture of the transport aircraft, which is projected to enter service in 2016 and will have a maximum take-off weight of 200 tons. According to Ukrainian media reports, China’s development of large military transport aircraft is backed by Ukrainian technical assistance. The Antonov Design Bureau has offered two proposals for modifying either the An-70 or the Il-76. Ukraine’s FED Corporation has proposed to upgrade the Il-76, and hoped to set up a joint venture in China to carry out research, development, and assembly of the new transport aircraft.16

Aircraft engine programs. Though China does not possess the ability to design, develop, and manufacture large civil aircraft engines, it is increasingly active in manufacturing military engines. The WS-9, WS-10 and WS-13 are the best representatives of such engines made by China. The WS-9, a copy of the 1960s-vintage Rolls-Royce Spey afterburning turbofan engine, is one of a few aircraft engines made in China that originated from Western technologies. The engine is used in the JH-7. The WS-10 is a copy of the Russian AL-31, and has been installed in the J-10 and the J-11B since 2009. During test flights, PLAAF test pilots reported abnormal engine vibrations, and thus, for a while, the PLAAF refused to accept new deliveries of the aircraft. The JF-17 fighter aircraft, devel­oped jointly by China and Pakistan, uses Russian RD-93 engines. China has long drawn upon Russian engine technology, but now, to lessen its dependency, it is pursuing a Chinese derivative of the RD-93 under the designation of WS-13. Though China has a certain degree of military engine manufacturing capability, Chinese-made engines in general, compared with similar types of engines made by Western countries, have short overhaul intervals and are slow in acceleration to maximum power following rapid throttle application. This indicates that there is still a significant technical lag in China’s engine development capabilities.