Category The Chinese Air Force

Richard P. Hallion

The ever-accelerating transformation of the People’s Republic of China (PRC) in the years since the era of Mao Zedong, particularly in its economic and military growth, has been nothing short of remarkable. Developments over the last quarter-century—effectively since the tragedy of Tiananmen Square and the collapse of the Soviet Union and Warsaw Pact alliance—have been more so still. The relationship of this increasingly robust and growing power to the established global community is a complex one, and no thornier aspect of that relationship can be found than the uneasy interplay among the PRC, Tai­wan, and the countries that deal with both.

For years, professional “China watchers” scoured publications, broad­casts, and other bits of evidence for clues to what was happening within the PRC, its leadership ranks, its stance toward neighbors and the world around it, and its intentions, particularly toward Taiwan. The opening of China to the outside world—with the easing of travel and access restrictions, rapid prolifer­ation of communications and transportations links, and consequently increas­ing interchanges of official and unofficial visitors, business people, academ­ics, students, and tourists—has vastly increased awareness, appreciation, and understanding of the many interrelated challenges surrounding China’s rise from a regional to a global power and its relationship to the global community.

The nature of the PRC-Taiwan relationship is one of the greatest of these challenges. For decades, both sides operated on a hair-trigger state of alert, ever ready to go to war over seemingly the slightest provocation. Numerous clashes illuminated the underlying antagonism and fulfilled the bellicose exchanges between leaders of the two countries, most notably the Yijiangshan Island cam­paign of 1954-1955 (the first Taiwan Strait crisis), and then the battles over the islands of Quemoy and Matsu (now Jinmen and Mavzuv, the second Taiwan Strait crisis), which ushered in the era of air-to-air missiles. In the years since, there have been encouraging signs that the violence seen in years past is reced­ing. Cross-strait dialogue is replacing bellicosity, and exchanges are replacing saber-rattling. Today, the contrails criss-crossing the Taiwan Strait are not com­bat aircraft climbing to battle, but civil air transports linking the two separated communities, totaling over 500 cross-strait flights per week, something incon­ceivable just a generation ago. When a devastating earthquake struck Sichuan

province in the PRC in 2008, Taiwan’s relief assistance, including direct flights by China Airlines to Chengdu, exceeded that of all other nations, reaffirming the depth of affection and shared heritage of the peoples bordering the Tai­wan Strait. Nevertheless, the prospect of violence, however increasingly dis­tant, remains, in this era of ballistic and cruise missiles, precision weapons, and cyber warfare, a daunting one.

One of the crucial areas of concern is the force disparity between the PRC and Taiwan. Even as political rhetoric softens, bringing the two sides closer, the force disparity grows ever wider, particularly in their respective airpower capa­bilities. Today, the traditional technological edge that Taiwan’s military air – power forces enjoyed over the mainland is a thing of the past. Where a decade ago, Taiwan’s airmen flew aircraft that were at least one, and in some cases two, technological generations superior to those of the PRC, today they are already in a position of inferiority, with their aging F-16A/B, AIDC F-CK-1 Ching – Kuo, and Mirage 2000 fighters increasingly outclassed and outnumbered by newer PRC aircraft such as the Su-27, J-10, J—11, and Su-30 aircraft. Where a decade ago, Taiwan’s airmen could operate with relative impunity over the Taiwan Strait, facing a limited-range surface-to-air missile threat built around derivatives of the then 40-year-old Khrushchev-era SA-2, today they face far more dangerous S-300 (SA-10/20) systems that deny access over the strait, and the prospect of the S-400 which, installed along the coast of the PRC, will reach across the strait and beyond Taiwan itself.

Coupled with the PRC’s introduction of precision air-to-surface muni­tions, air refueling, airborne early warning, large numbers of short – and medium-range ballistic missiles, land attack cruise missiles, and an increased emphasis on electronic and cyber warfare, the challenges facing Taiwan’s air defenders have never been graver than at the present time. Significantly, because of the longstanding ties between the United States and Taiwan, any prospect of cross-strait conflict carries with it the implicit risk of igniting a broader and even more devastating conflict. Clearly, it is in the interest of all parties to ensure that the PRC-Taiwan relationship evolves in a peaceful, mutu­ally beneficial fashion.

To that end, in late October 2010, a distinguished international group of experts on airpower, military affairs, and the PRC-Taiwan relationship gath­ered in Taipei to examine the present state and future prospects of the Peo­ple’s Liberation Army Air Force (PLAAF). The conference was the latest in a series of international conferences on the affairs of the People’s Liberation Army (PLA) cosponsored by the Chinese Council of Advanced Policy Stud­ies (CAPS), the Carnegie Endowment for International Peace (CEIP), the U. S. National Defense University (NDU), and the RAND Corporation. Over 3 days, speakers presented 14 papers on aspects of airpower, the PLAAF, and the impli­cations for Taiwan, and panels discussed and debated the presentations, taking questions and comments from an audience of 115 registered attendees, with many others dropping by. The conference organizers and presenters met with President Ma Ying-jeou and other Taiwan officials, as well as civil and military representatives of the American Institute in Taiwan; they also visited Ching Chuan Kang (CCK) Air Base, home of Taiwan’s 527th Tactical Fighter Wing, operating the aging indigenous AIDC F-CK-1 Ching-Kuo lightweight fighter, for a study tour and briefing on the state of Taiwan Strait air defenses.

This book is a compilation of the edited papers, reflecting comments and additions stimulated by the dialogue and discussion at the conference. As lead editor, I wish to thank the various authors for their patience and will­ingness in preparing their papers for this publication. For the record, there has been no attempt to “homogenize” the papers, or to seek a uniform out­look. The authors have been free to address their topics to whatever depth they chose, and to present their views without censorship or attempts to find a com­mon view. Nevertheless, as the reader will quickly perceive, there is a remark­able congruency of thought and outlook. The conference presentations were arranged in four broad themes: concepts; PLAAF organization, leadership, and doctrine; PLAAF equipment, personnel, education, and training; and industry and military implications. That same arrangement has been followed in the four-Part structure of this book.

Forrest E. Morgan, a senior political scientist at the RAND Corporation, opens Part I with a wide-ranging survey of airpower doctrine from the time of the “Great War” to contemporary operations in Iraq and Afghanistan; he pres­ents a classic tour through airpower theory and practice, stressing its endur­ing value, and making reference to the great theorists of airpower, particularly Britain’s Hugh “Boom” Trenchard, Italy’s Giulio Douhet, and America’s William “Billy” Mitchell. He concludes that “As airpower enters its second century, it will remain the most important instrument of international security” noting that

most analysts now agree that airpower is the quintessential strike ele­ment in a force-projection network able to conduct parallel attacks to create effects that are simultaneously tactical, operational, and strategic.

. . . Propositions about airpower have generated more study and debate than have propositions about most other instruments of military force.

They will continue to do so in the future, keeping the field vibrant and innovative. Clearly, the concept of airpower will remain not only rele­vant, but central to international security and stability as nations advance in the 21st century.

Next, Mark A. Stokes, executive director of the Project 2049 Institute, presents an intriguing survey of the PLAAF’s quest for joint-service aerospace power, examining the strategic drivers underpinning its quest, evolving Chi­nese concepts of joint aerospace power, the challenges of force moderniza­tion, the range of technological and acquisition choices facing the PLAAF, and PLAAF interest in advanced weapons concepts such as hypersonic missiles and spaceplanes, space-based systems, and cyber warfare. He concludes:

The gradual expansion of China’s long-range precision strike capabili­ties is altering the regional strategic landscape. The PLA Air Force and Second Artillery are making modest progress in developing advanced capabilities with an eye toward expanding their operational range into space and into the Asia-Pacific region. For the PLA Air Force, the ability to carry out strategic strike missions at ranges of 3,000 kilometers (1,860 miles) or more is viewed as the key to becoming a truly independent ser­vice, rather than one dependent on the Second Artillery or a supporting player to the ground forces. Despite the PLAAF’s aspirations to develop a force capable of an independent air campaign around China’s periph­ery and speculation of subordination of Second Artillery conventional ballistic missile units to the PLAAF, senior PRC political and military authorities will likely continue to rely on the established capabilities of the Second Artillery for coercion, strategic strike missions, and suppres­sion of enemy air defenses for some time to come.

. . . Beijing’s missile-centric strategy presents a number of challenges for regional stability. Barring the fielding of effective countermeasures, Chi­nese conventional aerospace power, specifically short – and medium – range ballistic and extended-range land attack cruise missiles, may over time give the PLA a decisive advantage in future conflicts around Chi­na’s periphery.

Xiaoming Zhang, associate professor in the Department of Leadership and Strategy at the U. S. Air Force’s Air War College, furnishes a valuable his­torical introduction to the PLAAF, from its roots in fighter-centric defensive air warfare before and after the Korean War era, and its evolution since that time as an army air service dominated by the PLAs surface-centric thought and leadership. He traces how, over its history, the PLAAF’s ability to undertake deep strike and even cross-border air support operations has been heavily con­strained by the PRC’s political decisionmakers. While its modern capabilities— exemplified by aircraft such as the J-10 and Su-27—have left the legacy MiG – 17 (J-5), MiG-19 (J-6), and MiG-21 (J-7) era far behind, he stresses “What has not changed is the PLAs political culture, service tradition, older ways of doing things, and outdated organizational system,” concluding:

The PLA is a titanic bureaucratic amalgamation with a leaden hand of tradition that can often block innovation. Changes in doctrine, training practices, force structure, and equipment are underway, yet many tradi­tions and cultural characteristics of the 83-year-old PLA are rigorously maintained. On top of that, there is the Party-controlled political culture and the ground force-centric predominant organizational tradition of the PLA. Both serve as constraining mechanisms that not only restrict the PLAs drive to autonomy, but also ensure its loyalty to the Party and obedience to the Party’s policy.

In Part II of this volume, Kenneth W. Allen, a senior research analyst at Defense Group Incorporated, offers an in-depth examination of the PLAAF’s organizational structure, noting how it has adjusted to accommodate changes in equipment, force structure, and the transformation of modern military power. Increasingly, the PLAAF has emphasized the planning and execution of joint operations. The shift toward joint operations accelerated in the early 2000s, when, as Allen notes, “PLAAF officers began to assume key joint billets, including membership on the Chinese Communist Party’s (CCP’s) Central Military Commission (CMC), commandant of the Academy of Military Sci­ence, commandant and political commissar of the National Defense Univer­sity, and deputy director billets in the General Staff Department (GSD), Gen­eral Political Department (GPD), and General Logistics Department (GLD).” But, if much of this organizational transformation is, on the surface, quite impressive, Allen, like Xiaoming Zhang before him, highlights the tra­ditionalist aspects of the PLA that continue to dominate the perspective of the PLAAF. He notes that “the army still dominates the majority of the leadership and working billets in all of these organizations, along with the General Arma­ment Department (GAD), which has yet to have a PLAAF (or PLA Navy) dep­uty, and all seven of the Military Region (MR) Headquarters. There are no indications this pattern of army domination will change in the next decade.” Murray Scot Tanner, a China security analyst with the Center for Naval Analyses, offers a detailed examination of three of the PLAAF’s mission areas: deterring infringement of China’s critical national security interests, carrying out offensive operations, and maintaining China’s air and space defenses. Tan­ner traces the PLAAF’s evolution from a pre-1990s emphasis upon largely tacti­cal air defense to a gradually evolving appreciation after Operation Desert Storm of airpower’s suitability for executing a broader range of strategic defensive and offensive missions. In 2004, the Party’s Central Military Commission approved

PLAAF plans to “integrate air and space; [and] be simultaneously prepared for offensive and defensive operations.” Three years later, Zhang Yuliang pro­nounced that “the Air Force should give full play to its powerful aerial mobil­ity, rapid speed, and long-distance strike capabilities, as well as its advantages in conducting multiple types of aerial missions.” Tanner concludes:

Chinese air and space analysts have devoted increasing attention to pro­moting China’s preparation for offensive missions and its efforts to seize and maintain the initiative in combat [including] efforts to develop a ladder of signals of increasing intensity to ward off potential adversaries [stressing] the increased importance of offense in PLAAF missions. . . targeting what they see as the fragile “systems of systems” that constitute enemy combat information systems [and placing] a growing emphasis on counterattacks as a means of seizing and holding the initiative in the face of near certain large-scale air attacks.

Roger Cliff, a nonresident Senior Fellow at the Center for Strategic and Budgetary Assessments, presents a thorough review of the doctrinal develop­ment of the PLAAF, relating it to historic milestones in its development, and in the political history of the PRC. Cliff notes that the PLAAF’s future success, like that of other air forces, will depend upon how well it has mastered mod­ern airpower doctrine and thought, not simply advanced weapons technology. He notes the importance of Deng Xiaoping who, after becoming China’s leader in 1978, mandated rapid military modernization, particularly of the PLAAF (though Deng, as Cliff emphasizes, was motivated as much by a desire to place the airmen under strict Party control—they had proven “politically danger­ous” in the days of Lin Biao—as by a desire to improve its combat capabilities). While noting PLAAF weaknesses and deficiencies, Cliff concludes:

The United States and Taiwan would likely find the PLAAF to be an aggressive opponent in the event of a conflict___________________________________ Especially at the begin­

ning of a war, the PLA will endeavor to attack enemy air bases, ballistic – missile bases, aircraft carriers, and warships equipped with land-attack cruise missiles before enemy aircraft can take off or missile attacks can be launched . . . . By 2015 or so, the weapons systems and platforms that China. . . is likely to have [would] make a Chinese air defense campaign. . . highly challenging for U. S. air forces [and] enable China to conduct offensive operations far into the western Pacific.

In the next chapter, Kevin Pollpeter, China program manager at Defense Group Incorporated, assesses the PLAAF’s growing interest in space operations. He notes that in 2009, Xu Qiliang, commander of the PLAAF, stated the following:

The air and space era and information era have arrived at the same time and the domain of information and domain of space and air have become the new commanding height for international strategic compe­tition competition among armed forces is moving toward the air and

space domain and is extending from the aviation domain to near space and even deep space.

Pollpeter finds that Xu’s quest for “air and space security” is intrinsically bound with the PLAAF’s concept of integrated air and space operations, which envisions the air and space battlespace as a “seamless whole.” The “ultimate goal” he believes the PLAAF is seeking is a “network-centric force in which dis­parate forces, divided by function and distance, will be fused into an organic whole through the use of information technologies” to achieve air and space superiority, precision strike, rapid maneuver, and multidimensional support to PLA forces. The PLAAF’s interest in assuming command over the PLAs space presence has not met with universal support, and its notions of space presence (including a somewhat surprising level of interest in manned spacecraft) are not universally accepted either. However space doctrine and application evolve within the PLA and PLAAF, enunciating and fulfilling a national space secu­rity policy will remain a crucial goal for both, particularly as China increas­ingly asserts its place among the world’s spacefaring peoples.

Part III begins with David Shlapak, a senior international policy analyst at the RAND Corporation, who offers a cogent survey of the PLAAF’s drive to modernize and reequip its combat forces, evocatively terming it “a Long March to modernity” Shlapak traces the transformation of the PLAAF’s order of battle across two crucial decades, from 1990 to 2010. Over that time, its force structure of fighters, fighter-bombers, ground attack, and bomber aircraft has steadily declined, from approximately 5,000 aircraft in 1990 to approximately 1,500 in 2010. But while overall numbers have dropped, today the PLAAF possesses the world’s third-highest number of advanced fourth-generation (third-generation, by PLAAF’s categorization of fighter aircraft technology) fighters, behind the United States and Russia. Matching this has been an equiv­alent upgrading in air-to-air and air-to-surface weapons, surface-to-air mis­siles, sensors, avionics, air refueling, and airborne early warning and control. Shlapak concludes:

The progress made in recent years by the PLAAF is impressive. . . . As late as the early 1990s, it was likely too weak to have even defended Chi­na’s home airspace against a serious, modern adversary. . . . [Now] 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.

You Ji, an associate professor at the School of Social Science and Inter­national Studies, University of New South Wales, Australia, presents a detailed examination of the individuals comprising the PLAAF’s senior leadership— those approximately three-dozen officers at or above full corps rank—trac­ing how, over time, the PLAAF’s senior leaders have increasingly come from the ranks of airmen, particularly fighter pilots from the most prestigious and accomplished fighter regiments and air divisions. As his chapter shows, the leadership of the PLAAF is surprisingly “elderly,” with a coming massive reshuffle in favor of slightly younger commanders coincident with the coming 18th Party Congress in 2012. The transformation of the PLAAF from the era of the J-5 (MiG-17) and J-6/Q-5 (MiG-19) to the era of the J-10, Su-27, and J-11 “has placed,” he believes, “huge pressure for the air force to groom, select, and place talented commanders at various levels.” The author concludes that the PLAAF leadership selection process

is increasingly based upon meritocracy and even “expertocracy” . . . [reflecting] a sophisticated, institutionalized, and comprehensive per­sonnel selection and promotion system. . . . The candidates for top lead­ership are inevitably well-trained, learned, and internationally exposed.

The level of professionalism is very high, both in terms of their careers as airmen, and their experience as commanders. Mediocre officers sim­ply do not make it to the top, given the extremely tough competition among peers.

Kevin Lanzit, a senior analyst with Alion Science and Technology, Incor­porated, reviews the PLAAF’s professional military education and training. As the PLAAF modernizes force structure and operational doctrine, it contin­ues to modernize its education and training as well, seeking, as Lanzit states, “to transform its legacy mechanized force into a force that will be capable of fighting and winning in modern, informatized conditions.” Lanzit begins with an overview of training in the Chinese air service in the pre-Communist era. Training deficiencies in the early days of the PLAAF resulted in ill-trained air­crew compared to their Soviet advisors and Western opponents, and, later, to the Taiwan airmen facing them across the Taiwan Strait. The societal disrup­tions accompanying the infamous “Cultural Revolution” of the late Mao era took their own toll on PLAAF competency as well. Thanks first to the reforms of Deng Xiaoping, followed by those of Jiang Zemin, Hu Jintao, and continu­ing to the present, the PLAAF is today more rigorously (if imperfectly) trained than at any previous time. Even so, Lanzit concludes that although progress has been “substantial,” the PLAAF still “has not yet achieved the development goals it seeks for officers and NCOs [noncommissioned officers].”

Beginning Part IV, Shen Pin-Luen of the Prospect Foundation delineates the past, present, and likely future of the Chinese aircraft industry, discussing how the PRC’s drive to modernize led not only to strenuous transformative efforts within the PLAAF, but also to a transformation of the Chinese aircraft industry. Its transformation resulted in a more globally inquisitive industry, one looking for inspiration in foreign design practice, but also, over time, more confident of its own abilities to pursue advanced technology programs, even complex fighter development efforts such as the J-8, J-10, J—11, and JH-7. This confidence became evident in mid-2008 with the establishment of the Com­mercial Aircraft Corporation of China Ltd. (COMAC), and, slightly later, with the merger of China Aviation Industry Corporation I (AVIC I) and China Avi­ation Industry Corporation II (AVIC II) into the China Aviation Industry Cor­poration (AVIC), and was reaffirmed by the first flights of the Chengdu J—20, a prototype stealth fighter roughly equivalent to the American YF-22/YF-23 of 1990, in January 2011. “The overhaul of the aviation sector is an indication that the pace of development and reform in China’s aviation industry is pick­ing up,” Shen concludes, warning that “China’s determination and injection of resources into the industry should not be underestimated by the outside world.” Next, Phillip C. Saunders, director of the Center for the Study of Chinese Military Affairs at National Defense University’s Institute for National Strategic Studies, and Joshua K. Wiseman, a research analyst at the center, probe into the Chinese aviation industry and the PLAAF’s acquisition efforts to reveal a pat­tern of technology acquisition they summarize as “buy, build, or steal.” “Chi­nese leaders aspire to build a defense industry capable of producing advanced military weapons systems without dependence on foreign suppliers,” they note, “but the limited capacity of China’s overall economy and technological limita­tions on its military aviation sector have made access to foreign aircraft and technology necessary.” They trace the “ongoing tension between the desire for self-reliance in defense and the need for access to advanced foreign technolo­gies,” across five periods in the evolution of China’s military aerospace industry.

The first period was that of Soviet assistance from 1950 to 1960, which gave the PRC its initial experience in license-producing Soviet fighters, bomb­ers, and transports. The second, from 1960 to 1977, was that of the Sino-Soviet split, during which China made do with incremental product refinement and development of derivatives (such as the Q-5) from existing designs. The third, from 1977 to 1989, marked China’s turning to the West, during which it gained some access to Western technologies. But the Tiananmen Square repression bought this period to a close. China initiated the fourth period when it turned back to a cash-strapped Russia—and even Israel—to secure advanced fighter and missile technology exemplified in the Su-27 and J — 10. The fifth (and current) period began in 2004. Since then, Western nations and Russia have become increasingly reluctant to share technology with the PRC. As a conse­quence, the authors conclude:

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 [and] 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.

Next, Hsi-hua Cheng, an instructor at the Taiwan National Defense Uni­versity, addresses the grim prospect of military encounters over the Taiwan Strait, including the possibility, however remote, of a forceful seizure of the island of Tai­wan by an all-out PLA amphibious assault. He undertakes his analysis by study­ing PLA, PLAN, and PLAAF doctrinal pronouncements, the pattern of military activity, and the respective force structures on either side of the strait. While not­ing that since May 20, 2008, when Taiwan President Ma Ying-jeou took office, the cross-strait policies of both sides have become more peaceful and friendly, he nevertheless pointedly notes that “the PRC has never renounced the use of mili­tary force against Taiwan, and, indeed, as it has steadily modernized its forces, the PRC has continued to maintain an aggressive posture toward Taiwan.”

Examining various uses of coercion and escalatory force, the author stresses the PLAAF and Second Artillery’s belief in the use of joint, overwhelm­ing power. For its part, he argues that Taiwan must employ its airpower only for self-defense. “As long as they don’t step on our territory and impede our lifelines,” he asserts, “they don’t win and we don’t lose, and our national secu­rity is secured.” Under no circumstances, he believes, should Taiwan engage in a preventive strike, as “Taiwan can’t afford the international liability of initiat­ing the war.” It is essential, then, that Taiwan shape its defensive forces so that they can survive a first strike, enabling defenders to “concentrate Taiwan’s lim­ited airpower to a critical time and place.” Taiwan, he believes, “must construct a mobile, diffuse, and widespread air defense umbrella covering point, area, and then theater air defense,” exploiting as well the synergy of advanced aircraft, heli­copters, unmanned aerial systems, V/STOL (vertical and/or short takeoff and landing) technologies, hardening airfields and command facilities, and develop­ing “a decentralized network-centric command and communication structure.” Finally, the author recommends that Taiwan “adopt a ‘Starfish’ strategy to enhance its survivability,” noting that starfish can regenerate lost arms and that Taiwan’s defense leaders “should try to apply this strategy to decentralize the commanding activity to the very basic units of its organizations, equip­ment, facilities, or personnel, to ensure that sustainability and survivability will expand.” Above all, he notes, Taiwan must work to ensure “that the PRC has no excuses to justify an invasion of Taiwan.”

In the final chapter, David Frelinger, a senior political scientist at the RAND Corporation, and Jessica Hart, an analyst at a defense contractor, offer a provocative assessment of the PLAAF’s modernization and its influence upon the U. S.-China military balance. They posit an “alternative framework” look­ing beyond the “ossified” bipolar nature of the Cold War, noting the U. S.-China relationship “is not yet mature, and there are multiple, competing narratives about interests and goals on both sides.” They employ three analytical games: the “Game of Influence” (Chinese and American military power advancing their respective national interests); the “Battle over a Third Party” (Chinese and American military power employed in a two-party conflict over Taiwan); and the “Great Power Game” (unlike the others, a zero-sum game in which military power is “the central aspect” of the U. S.-China relationship), noting that both America and China have “largely confined” themselves to the second game, the Battle over a Third Party. They conclude:

The United States has a wide range of options that do not necessarily require a new force structure or more defense expenditures, but instead may call for an altered military and political emphasis. . . . If the United States chooses to continue to play the same game in the same way it has since the end of the Cold War, the results may be to China’s advantage.

But if the United States chooses to play another game where its signifi­cant military and political assets can be more fully utilized, PLAAF mod­ernization may lead to a Pyrrhic victory for the Chinese.

Taken as a whole, the chapters of this volume provide a comprehensive picture of China’s progress in building a modern air force. This effort is most visible in PLAAF investments in aircraft and in China’s efforts to develop a capable military aviation industry. However, as several chapters demonstrate, improvements in organization, personnel, training, and doctrine have been equally important in terms of PLAAF development and expanding operational and combat capabilities. The overall impression is that the Chinese air force has made great progress on its “Long March to modernity.”

Finally, on a personal note, this book is dedicated to a remarkable air­man, Major General John R. Alison, USAFR (Ret.), who died on June 6, 2011, at the age of 98. Aside from being an extraordinary pilot and military leader (and co-founder of America’s first Air Commandos), “Johnny” Alison was a fiercely dedicated patriot, whose love of country and affection and admira­tion for its people were matched by his affection and admiration for the people of China. As a fighter pilot in China during World War II, Alison was moved by the suffering, courage, and daily sacrifice of the Chinese people, whose optimism, passionate dedication to their homeland, and faith in its future he greatly admired. After the war, as a postwar U. S. Air Force officer, international businessman, and aviation executive, he maintained his interest in China and its citizens. All who knew him—and this editor was privileged to know him well—will recall how often he spoke of the necessity of finding a means to ensure lasting peace for the Taiwan Strait, a peace characterized by mutual respect and dignity. In a conversation less than 3 months before his death, he stressed the critical importance of promoting a stronger and beneficial unity between Taiwan and the mainland, and between the American and Chinese people, believing both would work to further the stability of East Asia. May his life serve as both example and encouragement to all those who, whatever their nationality and background, seek today to blaze a path to permanent peace so that the Taiwan Strait never again experiences the dismal and bitter horrors of civil war.

Research and development-related writings may also provide insight into evolving joint aerospace power concepts. To close the gap between aspi – rational theory and capabilities, the PLA has made significant investments in force modernization over the last 20 years. Looking beyond traditional fixed – wing aircraft and ballistic and land attack cruise missiles, Chinese analysts view the realm between the atmosphere and space as a new area of global com­petition. An integrated sensor-to-shooter architecture would serve as a foun­dation for aerospace operations.

Over the next 10-15 years, visionaries hope to successfully leapfrog de­velopment and leverage the merging of aviation and space and missile tech­nologies.56 The PLA General Armaments Department provides overall force modernization policy guidance and likely serves as approval authority for ser­vice-level R&D and acquisition contracting.57 The GAD’s Science and Tech­nology Committee has formed at least 20 national-level technology working groups and defense R&D laboratories around the country. Presumably, the purpose is to leverage and pool resources to review progress, advise GAD on resource allocation, and learn how to overcome technological bottlenecks. Individual GAD-led technology working groups include the following:

■ General Missile Technology58

■ Precision Guidance Technology59

■ Computer and Software Technology

■ Satellite Technology

■ Radar Sensor Technology

■ Micro-Electromechanical Systems (MEMS) Technology60

■ Communications, Navigation, and Tracking Technology61

■ Integrated Military Electronics and Information Systems Technology62

■ Simulation Technology

■ Stealth Technology63

■ Opto-Electronics Technology

■ Aircraft Technology

■ Target Characteristics and Signal Control

■ Inertial Technology.

A shift in acquisition responsibilities may facilitate in leveraging advanc­es in many of these basic technologies. Since at least 2003, service-level acqui­sition authorities have assumed many of the responsibilities that previously re­sided within GAD. While GAD likely retains policy and approval authority, the formation of the Second Artillery Equipment Research Academy (~ШШ& ЭДЙЮ and PLAAF Equipment Research Academy is intend­

ed to integrate the various research institutes within the services and empow­er Equipment Departments to better translate conceptual aerospace campaign theory into operational requirements, oversee industrial research and develop­ment, and supervise operational test and evaluation.64

A senior PLAAF Equipment Research Academy representative respon­sible for requirements development outlined the integrated aerospace priori­ties as follows:65

■ air-launched precision strike munitions incorporating new forms of propulsion for hypersonic long-range strike

■ advanced guidance systems furnishing increased precision

■ advanced hard-and-soft-kill munitions capable of neutralizing deep, buried targets and paralyzing electronics via high-power microwave (HPM) projection

■ extended range air-to-air missiles capable of countering airborne sur­veillance aircraft and stand-off jammer platforms

■ new generation, long-range air defense assets, including endo – and exoatmospheric missile defenses able to engage tactical ballistic missiles.

Along similar lines, senior PLAAF leaders have outlined force develop­ment priorities, including the capacity to carry out long-range precision strike, an ability to attain local or limited air superiority, stealth, “full spectrum” air and missile defense, new “trump card” weapons systems, long-range

airlift (ШМЙЙ), and unmanned aerial vehicles.66 Over time, PLAAF capabili­ties are likely to expand more rapidly than in the past. For example, PLAAF Deputy Commander He Weirong outlined the PLAAF’s intent to procure a next-generation fighter over the next 8 to 10 years.67 Research, development, test, and evaluation investment is underway on developing and fielding ad­vanced active electronically scanned array (AESA) radar, and the GAD has a dedicated expert working group with the purpose of achieving breakthroughs in stealth technology.68

Key R&D, systems integration, and manufacturers for aerospace sys­tems include three space and missile groups: the China Aerospace Corporation (CASC), China Aerospace Science and Industry Corporation (CASIC), and the Aviation Industry Corporation of China (AVIC). Since the 1950s, priority has been granted to the space and missile industry (e. g., CASC and CASIC), with the aviation industry viewed as relatively backward. The aviation industry’s R&D and manufacturing management practices are at least in part to blame for its rela­tive backwardness.69 The assignment of space and missile industry leaders to key national defense and aviation industry positions, specifically the country’s large passenger aircraft program, reflects the confidence senior political leaders have in the PRC space industry and shortcomings in the aviation establishment.70

The department system consists of what the PLAAF calls bumen (ПП), which is the generic term for the four first-level departments—Headquarters (АІФ П), Political (&>пнР), Logistics (^MinP), and Equipment (S^&hP)—and their sub­ordinate second – and third-level departments (П), bureaus (^), divisions (^), offices (ft), and/or branches (K). With only a few exceptions where a battalion has a Headquarters Department, there are no bumen below the regiment level. The PLAAF has three general categories of bumen, which include administra­tive departments (ШкнРП), functional/professional departments (Ф#^П), and operational departments (^ФШП). Unfortunately, no clear definition is available for these three categories of departments, and some of them overlap.

Based on a review of the terms in various dictionaries, encyclopedias, and interviews with PLA personnel, we can conclude the following: Administrative departments conduct work that affects daily life, such as support and supplies, logistics, and housing. Functional/professional departments conduct work that affects operations, such as the operations, intelligence, training, finance, and health departments. Operating departments is a general category for all func – tional/professional departments (other than finance) that have some degree of financial responsibility, but with limited budgetary responsibility. Examples include military schools, hospitals, warehouses, scientific research organiza­tions, military transportation representative organizations, and military repre­sentative organizations stationed at factories.

Overall, the department system has not changed appreciably for almost 60 years, and may be compared to a deck of cards with four suits—Headquar­ters, Political, Logistics, and Equipment—that have occasionally shifted a few cards from one suit to the other. It is important to pay attention, however, when a new card appears or an old card shifts to another suit, because such changes do not occur randomly. Each of these is discussed in sequence.28

Headquarters Department. The Headquarters Department (Й^) is the highest-level functional and administrative organization within PLAAF

Headquarters that is responsible for what the PLAAF calls “military work” (¥♦ HT) or “command work” (^ffl^) on behalfofthe PLAAF’s Party Committee and leadership.29 Its primary responsibilities include managing unit deploy­ments, battlefield development, and combat command. It is also responsible for the PLAAF’s organizational structure, personnel management, enlisted force personnel records, intelligence, communications, radar, air traffic con­trol, and weather support, as well as researching air force military theory, and managing education and safety. Leadership of the PLAAF’s Headquar­ters Department includes the chief of staff (#Шй), who is the department director, and five deputy chiefs of staff (§У#Ш^). Each deputy chief of staff is responsible for guiding and monitoring activities in two or more second – level departments.

The Headquarters Department has at least 15 second-level departments, each of which has subordinate third-level departments. These are the Gen­eral Office (iffS), Directly Subordinate Work Department (ЖІШ), Opera­tions Department (ІТіКШ), Intelligence Department (І’ійШ), Communications Department (®1ШШ), Military Training Department (^іЛІШ), Military Profes­sional Education Department (^^ЩФйШШ),30 Military Affairs Department (Щ. #Ш), Ground-Based Air Defense Troops Department (ЙЩІЙІЙШ), Electronic Countermeasures and Radar Department (^іЙйгайШ), Air Traffic Control Department (КЙЖФІШ), Military Theory Research Department Ш), Pilot Recruitment Bureau (fflff^), Technology Bureau (Йі^), Weather Bureau (i^^), and Flight Safety Bureau (іТйі^). The PLAAF Headquar­ters’ command post (CP) is subordinate to the Headquarters Department, with the Chief of Staff as its director. Personnel from throughout the Headquarters Department (especially from Operations, as well as relevant personnel from the Logistics and Equipment Departments), man the CP on a rotational basis.31

Political Department. The Political Department (І&) is the highest-level leadership, functional, and administrative organization within PLAAF Head­quarters for political work.32 The Political Department is responsible for keep­ing officer personnel records, propaganda, security, education, cultural activi­ties, civil-military relations, Party discipline, and Party organizations within the PLAAF. The leadership of the PLAAF’s Political Department includes the direc­tor (±ff) and three deputy directors (gijiff). Each deputy director is responsible for guiding and monitoring activities in one or more second-level departments.

The seven primary second-level departments, each of which has several subordinate third-level departments, are the following: Headquarters Department (^ФШ), Organization Department (ШШШ), Cadre (Officer Personnel) Depart­ment (іШШ), Propaganda Department (ж^Ш), Security Department (1Ж2.Ш), Discipline and Inspection Department (£Б^Ш), and Liaison Department (К^Ш).

Logistics Department. The Logistics Department (ЙЙ) is the highest – level leadership, functional, and administrative organization within PLAAF Headquarters for logistics work, which includes overseeing transportation, finances, materials and supplies, POL, and medical care.33 The leadership of the PLAAF’s Logistics Department includes the director (*№), political com­missar (&)nSM / &S), three deputy directors (gij*№), one deputy political commissar (giJ&S), a chief of staff (#Шй) (e. g., director of the Headquarters Department), and director of the Political Department (Й/nHift). The 12 sec­ond-level departments, each of which has several third-level departments, are the following: Headquarters Department (^^H), Political Department (&)nH), Finance Department (M#H), Quartermaster, Materials, and POL Department (^ДЙШЙ?4нР), Health Department (ййН), Military Transportation Depart­ment (¥Йш$інР), Airfield and Barracks Department (Ш^нЙИ), Directly Sub­ordinate Supply Department (ЖЩМШИ), Air Force National Defense Engi­neering Development Command Department (Й¥НІЙІШШШн№И), Audit Bureau (Йі+^), Real Estate Management Bureau (ЙШ^ЩШМ), and Air Force Engineering and Design Research Bureau (Й¥ІШійі+ЇЯЙ^).

Equipment Department. When the PLAAF was founded in November 1949, it created an Air Force Engineering Department (Й¥ІШН) to manage aircraft maintenance; however, in September 1969, it was abolished, leaving the PLAAF with only three first-level departments. Because of significant aircraft maintenance problems during the Cultural Revolution, the PLAAF created the Aeronautical Engineering Department (Й^^ЙІШИ) on May 1, 1976 as the fourth first-level department with the responsibility of managing aircraft main­tenance and providing representatives at aviation-related factories. In 1992, the name was changed to the Air Force Equipment Technical Department (Й¥^^ Й^И), but it still had the same responsibilities.34 In 1998, the name was changed to the Equipment Department (S^H / Й^). At that time, the second-level Equipment Department and Scientific Research Department from the Head­quarters Department, along with the second-level Armament Department from the Logistics Department, were merged into the new Equipment Department. According to PLAAF 2010, the Equipment Department is the highest-level lead­ership, functional, and administrative organization within PLAAF Headquarters for equipment work, which includes the birth-to-death life-cycle management, repair, and maintenance of all PLAAF weapons systems and equipment.

The leadership of the PLAAF’s Equipment Department includes the director (n№), political commissar (PC), five deputy directors (gij*№), one deputy PC, and director of the Political Department (l^inHifi).

The eight second-level departments (each of which has several third – level departments) are the following: Comprehensive Planning Department (іт^і+ЙУИ), which also serves the function of a Headquarters Department;

Political Department (ШпнР); Field Maintenance Department (£h±MP); Scientific Research and Procurement Department (HWCTwhP); Air Materiel Department (КМИ); Aviation Engineering Management Department (КЙ ІШвІнР); Armament Common-Use Equipment Department И); and Air Force Armament General-Use Equipment Military Representa­tive Bureau (S¥¥MSfflS^¥WAS^).35

For decades, providing air defense—in particular, territorial air defense—has been one of the PLAAF’s two defining missions. This chapter and many other analyses have placed considerable stress on such emerging PLAAF missions as deterrence or offensive strikes. But it is worth bearing in mind that some of the PLA’s most authoritative published studies and docu­ments still emphasize the PLAAF’s air and space defense mission as one of the most important and pervasive that it will be asked to undertake in any future war. The PLAAF’s ability to repulse enemy air and space strikes, mitigate their political, economic, and military damage, and launch crippling counterattacks against enemy offensive capabilities will be crucial to China’s success in achiev­ing its campaign and strategic goals, and, indeed, to China’s national secu­rity as a whole. The 2006 edition of The Science of Campaigns contends that the stakes of success or failure in defending against enemy air raid campaigns may include “crucial issues such as our country’s territorial integrity, respect for our sovereignty, or the very security of the nation.”47 Likewise, when Chi­na’s 2008 National Defense White Paper describes the duties the air force must undertake as a “strategic service” of the PLA, it does so primarily in terms that emphasize its defensive mission: “[The air force] is responsible for such tasks as safeguarding the country’s territorial air space and territorial sovereignty, and maintaining a stable air defense posture nationwide.”48

The PLAAF’s defensive mission is comprised of three main parts or dimensions that have, for the most part, remained the same for decades. These are: protective or “defensive” (fanghu, ШЯ) activities and operations; intercep­tion or “resistance” operations (kangji, КФ); and “counterattack” operations (fanji, йф). The Study of Air Force Campaigns refers to all three of these tasks that the air force would undertake as part of its air defense mission:

Organize air defense campaigns with varying sets of arrangements and of different scales based on the objectives and scope of the enemy’s air attack; intercept the enemy’s attack planes and other aerial attack forces; launching sudden attacks against enemy planes and other weapons while they are still at their airfields and launch bases; and carrying out tight defense of our own airfields, bases, etc., in order to destroy the enemies’ aerial attack plans and schemes.49

The PLAAF’s “integrated” defensive mission is also very likely its most complex mission organizationally because of the sheer breadth of tasks involved and the numerous units that must collaborate effectively with the air force—including the other PLA services and national and local government and civilian organizations. PLAAF analysts note that China’s “integrated” air – and space-defense system must incorporate aerial, space-based, and ground – based (including maritime) forces to undertake protection and defense, inter­ception, and counterattack operations. The system is also expected to protect numerous political, economic, military, media, and other targets that would be essential to sustain the Communist Party’s capability to rule the country and the PLA’s warmaking capability and freedom of operation (including key com­mand, control, information, defensive, and other systems).50

PLA air – and spacepower analysts are often very frank about the enormous challenge they believe Chinese defenses will face from multiple, large-scale air attacks by an unnamed enemy that possesses a considerable advantage in mili­tary power and technology. NDU scholar Yuan Jingwei, for example, makes little effort to disguise that he is talking about the United States and the North Atlan­tic Treaty Organization when he argues that aerial surprise attacks have become the method of first-choice in modern informatized warfare, and were decisive to the outcome of the Gulf War and the wars in Kosovo, Afghanistan, and Iraq. Yuan foresees China facing “severe air and space intimidation” in a future war, and argues that “air and space defense combat will be one of the primary forms of future air and space integrated combat”51 The Science of Campaigns is even more blunt: “In future anti-air raid campaigns, our principal combat adversary will be a powerful enemy who possesses superiority in high technology”52

Forrest E. Morgan

It should come as no surprise that the concept of airpower has changed a great deal since H. G. Wells first used the term in his 1908 science fiction novel, The War in the Air. Given the passage of more than a century, the world has seen dramatic advances in technology as well as changes in the geopolitical condi­tions in which war is fought. Yet within the ever-evolving fabric of airpower his­tory, one can find remarkable threads of continuity. Early aircraft, though but fragile contraptions of wood and canvas, exploited the same advantages enjoyed by the sophisticated weapons systems that operate in today’s 21st-century skies: the ability to cover great distances in any direction quickly, free of obstruction by surface terrain; the ability to overfly enemy armies and navies and attack them from above, across the breadth and depth of the battlespace; and the ability to take war to the heart of an enemy’s society, striking vulnerable targets previously unreachable before defeating surface defenses. So there should be little wonder that the concept of airpower, while ever evolving, has also exhibited elements of continuity, as have the doctrines and strategies that conceptual thinking about airpower has inspired. In many ways and for reasons that are clearly evident, today’s airmen have inherited the strategic mindset of their forebears.

This paper examines that mindset in historical context as it traces the evolution of airpower thought and considers what theoretical, technological, and political trends suggest for strategies that air forces will likely employ in the future. It explains how airpower thought, though buffeted by changes in technology and geopolitics, has been anchored on an evolving body of the­ory conceived to exploit the unique warfighting advantages afforded by the ability of aircraft to operate in the vertical dimension. Yet within this unifying framework, strategic thinkers have, from the earliest days of military air opera­tions, debated whether airpower is employed most effectively as an indepen­dent instrument against targets chosen to create direct, war-winning effects at the strategic level of war, or whether it is better used in combination with sur­face forces at the operational level of war. I argue that these competing ideas appear to be converging in the current era, but the debate is unlikely to ever be fully resolved. That is a good thing because strategy has always benefited from rigorous examination and spirited intellectual debate. Creative thought and innovation have always been the touchstones of airpower. That heritage will continue into the future.

Based on a broad survey of authoritative technical literature, the PLA’s long-term vision for joint aerospace power appears to include an ability to de­liver conventional firepower with precision to any point on Earth. In line with the PRC’s traditional approach to research and development, strategic strike programs could entail four phases:71

■ The first phase would involve fielding of an initial maritime variant of the DF-21C medium-range ballistic missile (MRBM)—an antiship ballistic missile (ASBM)—by the end of the 11th Five Year Plan (2006­2010).

■ A second phase would seek to extend precision strike out to a range of 3,000 kilometers by the conclusion of the 12th Five Year Plan (2011- 2015).72

■ A third phase would result in fielding a boosted hypersonic glide mis­sile capable of intercontinental strike by 2020.

■ A final capability, deployed before 2025, would be a hypersonic scramjet-propelled cruise vehicle for global operations.

In the near term, the chances of success for fielding conventional ballistic and cruise missiles able to strike fixed and moving targets in the western Pacific Ocean and South China Sea out to a range of 2,000 kilometers are high. Con­sistent with the reports of ongoing testing, at least one authoritative source in­dicates that preparations for ASBM manufacturing were completed in 2009.73

The most recent additions to the PLAs extended-range convention­al strike capability include ground – and air-launched land attack cruise mis­siles. Since successful completion of operational testing in October 2003, the PLA inventory of ground-launched cruise missiles has expanded significantly. The addition of air-launched land attack cruise missiles will further expand the PLAs extended-range strike capability.74 The air-launched variant of the DH-10 land attack cruise missile, referred to in Taiwan sources as the YJ-100 (ШФ100), ostensibly has a 1,500-kilometer (930-mile) range.75 When launched from a B-6 bomber in the Bohai Gulf or coastal areas over China, the missiles could reach targets throughout Japan and the South China Sea. However, if the bomber carries out missions overwater in the western Pacific, it could theoreti­cally cover Guam. In one interview, cruise missile designer Yang Baokui high­lighted six focus areas for next-generation weapons systems, including:76

1. increased range

2. increased precision

3. higher reliability

4. increased weapons system effects

5. easier maintenance

6. improved electronic counter-countermeasures (ECCM).

Research and development investment into next-generation extended – range precision strike systems exemplifies the PLAs evolving concept of aero­space power. With ballistic and cruise missile technology serving as the basis, investment into aerospace strike also may illustrate how service-related com­petition could evolve. Aerospace flight vehicles blur the distinction between the air and space domains. In discussing new generation ballistic and extend­ed-range air – and ground-launched cruise missiles, aerospace engineers have advocated modification of existing ballistic missile designs toward ones that adopt characteristics of both ballistic and cruise missiles. As two aerospace en­gineers put it, “The traditional ballistic reentry mode of reentry vehicle cannot meet the demand of the new battle environment. A new-style lift reentry weap­on platform is an optimal key to solve this problem.”77

Hypersonic aerospace flight vehicles exemplify the merging of the air and space domains from both operational and industrial perspectives.78 Aero­space strike systems under development in China could be divided into two categories: a boost-glide vehicle that is launched into a suborbital trajecto­ry in near-space by a ballistic missile; and/or a horizontal take-off and land­ing strike system that utilizes an air-breathing supersonic combustion ramjet (scramjet) engine to propel a vehicle to hypersonic speeds.79 Key areas of R&D include high lift-to-drag ratio delivery vehicles, high-temperature materials for thermal protection, precision navigation, guidance and control, and ability to maintain external radio frequency links through plasma in near-space.

Initial aerospace vehicle R&D is believed to rely on conventional ballistic missile technology for ascent into a suborbital trajectory in near-space.80 The missile would then release a post-boost vehicle to glide and maneuver toward the intended target. Chinese engineers appear to be conducting preliminary research into a conceptual design for a suborbital flight vehicle (ШЛМ^ТЖ) or strike system that adopts a boost-glide (ЙШШі) trajectory, or, as some en­gineers call it, a “Qian Xuesen trajectory” (®^Щ#М).81 Instead of flying on a normal ballistic path that takes the missile into space before returning to Earth, the boost-glide missile skips in and out of near-space, those altitudes between 20 and 100 kilometers.82

Aerodynamically configured to glide toward its target, the flight vehicle adopts hybrid characteristics of both ballistic and cruise missiles. In its initial stage of flight, sources indicate the flight vehicle would reach hypersonic speeds of between Mach 8 and Mach 12.83 Another study references an upper altitude of 60 kilometers and lower of 30 kilometers (37.2 and 18.6 miles).84 In addition to complicating mid-course missile defenses, boost-glide flight vehicles are said to extend the range of existing ballistic missiles. One study, for example, asserts that a basic boost-glide capability could extend the range of a missile by 31.2 percent.85

Signifying the importance that China places on development of aero­space flight vehicles, senior political and military authorities established a steering group in 2006 and a dedicated research institute for leveraging the unique characteristics of near-space under the CASC First Academy in 2008. The CASC First Academy is China’s principal organization for R&D and pro­duction of strategic ballistic missiles and space launch vehicles. Senior design­ers for boost-glide strike systems likely reside within the CASC First Academy 10th Research Institute (Near-space Flight Vehicle Research Institute, 1’еО^^ЭДЙ№), which formed in October 2008 after 2 years of closed door meetings, conferences, and feasibility studies.86 Most recently in June 2009, a CASC manufacturing facility in Chengdu (7304 Factory) initiated testing on an engine designed to support a near-space flight vehicle program.87

In line with the PLA’s “informatization” of weapons systems, precision guidance enjoys a high R&D priority. For high-altitude target acquisition of moving targets at sea, such as aircraft carriers, China’s defense R&D commu­nity appears to be investing significant resources into fielding a missile-borne synthetic aperture radar (SAR) capability that would be integrated with satellite positioning and inertial navigation systems.88 Chinese aerospace engineers have been refining technologies for advanced flight vehicle terminal guidance, in­cluding millimeter wave, infrared, and laser detection and ranging (ladar) seek – ers.89 A former high-ranking aerospace industry official opined that precision strike systems, such as an ASBM, would share many of the same guidance tech­nologies as the antisatellite (ASAT) system that was tested in January 2007.90

Chinese industry publications appear to view boost-glide flight vehicles in a similar context as the U. S. Air Force FALCON program, one of a num­ber of Prompt Global Strike-related research, development, test, and evalua­tion (RDT&E) programs underway in the United States. CASC First Academy, CASIC Third Academy, and PLA designers have conducted feasibility studies of common aero vehicles (CAVs), and appear to believe China could overcome technical obstacles to fielding such as system.91 In one study, CASC First Acad­emy engineers noted use of a ramjet engine for the post-boost vehicle and cited issues associated with heating and use of infrared terminal sensors when going after sea-based and land-based targets. After detailed analysis, First Academy designers identified 10 key technologies needed for global precision strikes. Engineers believe that a ballistic missile equipped with a post-boost-glide ve­hicle could enter the R&D phase in the 12th Five Year Plan.92

Other concepts under development also include air-launched conven­tional ballistic missiles and space launch vehicles. Preliminary research by the space and missile industry into air-launched solid-fueled vehicles is said to have begun in 2000.93 Airborne platforms are viewed as fuel efficient since launch would be at a high altitude, and the missile could enjoy velocity ben­efits. Aerospace industry executives have outlined a conceptual design for a 1-meter diameter solid motor that could lift a 50-kilogram (110-pound) mic­rosatellite into a 500-kilometer (310-mile) orbit from a converted B-6 bomb­er.94 While not confirmed, some indications exist that some testing has taken place. Another variant, similar to a winged cruise ballistic missile, is for near­space flight.95

Authoritative sources indicate that preliminary R&D funds are being in­vested into a more advanced hypersonic aerospace flight vehicle program.96 Next-generation flight vehicles may adopt airbreathing supersonic combus­tion ramjet (scramjet) engine (®Й$Е^^Л) technology, enabling accelera­tion to hypersonic speeds in excess of Mach 5. In addition to scramjet engine technology, R&D is focused on advanced heat-resistant materials, radar and infrared signature reduction (e. g., “stealth”), micro-electromechanical systems (MEMS), smart structures, and autonomous control.97 One Chinese study out­lined results of modeling and simulating a scramjet-powered vehicle with a range between 1,000 and 2,000 kilometers (620-1,240 miles), flying toward its target at an altitude of between 25 and 30 kilometers (15.5-18.6 miles) and a speed of Mach 6.98

Chinese engineers have been investigating turbine-based combined cy­cle (TBCC) propulsion systems. More specifically, Chinese aerospace engi­neers have been carrying out basic research into an air-turbo rocket (ATR) propulsion system, an airbreathing system that combines elements from both turbojets and rocket engines. Simulations validated one ATR design that oper­ates at speeds up to Mach 4 and altitudes of up to 11 kilometers (6.82 miles).99 In a Xinhua interview, a founding father of China’s space and missile program, Zhuang Fenggan (£й^), argued that that aerospace flight vehicle testing could begin as early as the end of the 11th Five Year Plan.100 Hong Kong’s Wen Wei Po reported in 2006 that R&D could be completed by 2020.101

As a final note, China’s R&D community also has been investing resourc­es in more exotic forms of electronic attack. In particular, efforts have been di­rected toward an energy weapon that produces a strong electromagnetic pulse (EMP) to neutralize electronic systems within its effective radius. Known as a high-powered microwave (ЛЙ$Ш$ЙЖ) device, it has been championed by many of China’s most respected advocates of information warfare. PLA-af – filiated research institutes have already mastered certain power sources com­monly associated with microwave weapons.102 Chinese writings indicate vari­ous applications for high-powered microwave (HPM) devices to shut down adversarial radars and C4ISR systems in an opening salvo, including direc­tional systems for jamming the electronic systems of attacking aircraft and antiradiation missiles, and as an antisatellite weapon to degrade sensitive satel­lite electronic systems.103

According to Modern Military Organizational Reform Research, which was written by the Academy of Military Science, the PLAAF’s unit system (ИРРА ІФФІ) consists of four components.36 These are the PLAAF’s branches and spe – cialty/specialized forces/units; the PLAAF’s leadership and command tiered structure; the PLAAF’s operational units; and the personnel and force reduc­tions within the PLAAF. The leadership and command tiered structure is dis­cussed later in this text, so the following addresses the other three.

Branches and Specialty Forces. Until the early 2000s, the PLAAF had five branches (й#)—aviation, SAM, AAA, radar, and airborne.37 This apparently changed in the early 2000s, whereby the PLAAF now has only four—aviation, SAM, AAA, and airborne—plus five types of specialty forces (^ФпР/^чРА)— communications, radar, ECM, chemical defense, and technical reconnaissance.38

Operational Units. Depending on the type of unit, the PLAAF’s branches and specialty forces are organized into divisions, brigades, regiments, battal­ions, companies, platoons, and squads. Today, the only operational corps is the 15th Airborne Corps, discussed subsequently. Table 4-3 provides an overview of the types of operational units and their headquarters levels.39

According to PLAAF 2010, the PLAAF currently has 29 operational air divisions—20 fighter, 3 ground attack, 3 bomber, and 3 transport divisions. From 1950 to 1971, the PLAAF created 50 operational air divisions that were stationed throughout China. This situation did not change until 1986, when the PLAAF began converting one air division in each of the seven military regions to a divi­sion-level transition training base (&ШШШМШ). Since then, the PLAAF has gradually reduced the remaining 43 operational air divisions to 29. While most of these divisions have only two subordinate regiments, some have three. The PLAAF also has several independent helicopter and transport regiments. As a general rule, a division can have more than one model of aircraft, but each regi­ment has the same model for training, logistics, and maintenance support pur­poses. The reduction in the number of divisions has taken place in order to incor­porate new types of aircraft, retire older aircraft, meet new mission requirements, and reduce personnel. Although there are fewer aircraft today, their capabilities far exceed those of the F-6, A-5, and earlier versions of the F-7, F-8, and B-6.40

In December 2011, the PLAAF began creating air brigades (КЙЙШ) in at least the Shenyang, Lanzhou, Nanjing, and Guangzhou MRAFs. Each bri­gade has several subordinate battalion leader-grade flight groups (^T^PA), which are most likely treated as regiments. The goal is to have each flight group equipped with a different type of aircraft, including trainers, ground attack, and fighters, so that the air brigade is multifunctional.41 As of early 2012, it was not yet clear if these brigades are upgraded regiments, downgraded divisions, or a combination of both.

The airborne force, the 15th Airborne Corps, consists of three subordinate divisions, each of which is organized into regiments, battalions, and companies. The three divisions are composed of infantry, motorized infantry equipped with light vehicles, mechanized infantry, artillery, air defense (AAA and SAM), special operations, communications, special forces, reconnaissance, engineering, helicop­ter, training, and logistics support.42 Unfortunately, no authoritative information is available about the SAM or AAA order of battle in terms of numbers and types of units or numbers of missiles and guns. However, according to the Department of Defense’s 2010 report on the PLA, “The PLAAF has continued to expand its inven­tory of long-range, advanced SAM systems and now possesses one of the largest such forces in the world.”43 The report does not discuss the PLAAF’s AAA force.

Number of Personnel. The PLAAF has not provided public information about the current number of personnel, including the number and percentage of officers and enlisted personnel by rank; however, Xu Guangyu, a retired PLA major general from the General Staff Department, published an article in July 2010 that states the PLAAF constitutes about 12 percent of the 2.3 million-man PLA, which equates to 276,000 personnel.44 Since 1949, the PLAAF has imple-

mented 10 force reductions all of which were part of larger PLA force

reductions. While some of the reductions affected the entire force, others focused strictly on certain levels of headquarters. Although the figures available in differ­ent PLA sources are often inconsistent, it appears that, in September 1953, the PLAAF increased its personnel from the existing 210,000 to 257,000. PLAAF reporting states that, in 1972, it had its highest number of personnel, but the number was not specified. By the end of 1976, the force was somewhere between 16.4 percent and 26.9 percent less than 1972.45 Since then, the PLAAF has aver­aged force reductions of 10-20 percent each time the PLA has instituted a force reduction.46 Again according to Xu Guangyu, the PLA will reduce its force in stages over the next 20 years to about 1.5 million, which will result in a reduction in the army’s percentage and an increase in the PLAAF’s percentage.47

According to PLAAF 2010, all PLAAF officers serve in one of five possi­ble career tracks: military officer (^^^g, also identified as the command offi­cer track), political officer (ЙП^Ю, logistics officer (йй¥Ш), equip­

ment officer (^g^g), and technical officer (S^¥W). These career tracks are not further broken down into Air Force Specialty Codes (AFSCs) similar to the USAF’s personnel system. Depending on the career track, they are assigned to all PLAAF organizations, including headquarters, operational, support, research, and academic organizations.48 Military officers serve as unit commanders, dep­uty commanders, and staff officers (#Ш) in the Headquarters Department. They are responsible for operations, intelligence, training, unit organizational structure, enlisted force records, and communications. Political officers serve as unit politi­cal commissars (PCs), deputy PCs, and staff officers (T#) in the Political Depart­ment. They are responsible for conducting all political work, which includes that related to keeping officer personnel records, propaganda, security, cultural activ­ities, civil-military relations, Party discipline, and Party organizations. Logistics officers serve as the director, deputy director, and staff officers (#Ш) in the unit’s Logistics Department. They are responsible for managing logistics support, which includes overseeing transportation, finances, materials and supplies, POL, hous­ing, airfields, and medical care. Equipment officers serve as the director, deputy director, and staff officers (#Ш) in the unit’s Equipment Department. They are responsible for managing the development, acquisition, maintenance, and repair of all equipment and weapons systems. They also serve as representatives in civil­ian research institutes and factories that develop and produce aviation systems and equipment. Technical officers serve primarily as engineers, weapons system and equipment maintenance and repair officers, computer technicians, academics, and doctors. A high percentage of civilian college graduates who join the PLAAF as officers serve in this track. The grouping based on work characteristics con­sists of four systems, which equate to four of the five officer career tracks, and are aligned with the four departments:49 military (command) leadership system (¥♦ Й#Ф®1); political leadership system (Й/пЙ#Ф®1); logistics leadership system (ЙЖЙ^ФФО and equipment leadership system (^^Й^ФФІ).

A number of recent PLA analyses are placing growing emphasis on find­ing ways for the PLAAF to use defensive operations to retake the initiative by carrying out effective counterattacks against enemy bases. Counterattacks are seen as an increasingly critical aspect of the PLAs overall “active defense” strategy and “being prepared for simultaneous offensive and defensive opera – tions.”53 Military analysts make clear that in addition to accomplishing a vari­ety of important protective and damage limitation tasks, China’s air and space defensive operations are expected to try to transform the nature of the war by lifting the air force out of a “passive” or “defensive” posture into an “active” or “offensive” posture. This transformation will require air and space defensive forces to prevent or limit fundamental damage to military command and con­trol systems and preserve the PLAs capacity to make war. Interception and counterattack operations would likewise be expected to inflict sufficiently high attrition rates to weaken, paralyze, or confuse enemy air and space opera­tions, and make a major contribution to China seizing air and space superior­ity (zhikongquan, zhitianquan, $[l:SfX,$[RfX).

Although officially called “counterattacks” (fanji, йф), Chinese analysts stress that these strikes can (and should) include attacks against enemy air – and ground-based assets and facilities, and possibly even before an adversary’s first strike. One analyst, writing frankly about air and space counterattacks, notes that these operations are sufficiently similar to offensive strike operations (kongtian jingong zuozhan, Й^ЖЙІТіК) that his study analyzes counterattack operations as part of its section on offensive operations.54 Air – and space-defense specialists Wang Fengshan, Li Xiaojun, and Ma Shuanzhu likewise define “active counter­attacks” (jiji fanji, Ш®йф) in a way that seems as though it could include first strikes to destroy or delay an enemy’s plan to carry out air attacks:

Active counterattack refers to, in the course of air defense operations, creating and seizing advantageous opportunities to actively and assert­ively launch air strikes [kongxi, ЙШ] and disruption operations [xirao xingdong, ШМГЙ] against the enemy, to destroy his plans for air strikes, delay his air strike operations, weaken and halt his power to commit air strikes, and use attacks to help our defense and support our regular [zhengmian, ШЩ] resistance operations. The keypoint objective of our counterattack operations is the enemy’s information centers for his air strike systems, his communication nodes, and other crucial com­mand and control facilities.55

Chinese analysts have tried to set out several basic principles for carry­ing out these counterattacks, including recommending a relatively low number of small-scale, tightly focused attacks aimed at enemy gaps and weaknesses in order to cause maximum disruption. As suggested above, they also emphasize that it is better to strike early rather than to delay. Counterattacking forces are urged, as much as possible, to focus their strikes on paralyzing one aspect of the enemy’s operations at a time, rather than attempting a more wide-ranging attack. The keypoint targets for operations are crucial enemy command and control facilities, information centers for air strike systems, communication nodes, bases (including carriers), air and space assets, and support facilities.56 The NDU’s Yuan Jingwei stresses in particular the importance of precision attacks against both the physical and informational “sourceheads” (yuantou, ША) of incoming enemy planes and missiles—air bases, space launch bases, command and control centers, and orbiting spacecraft.57 With success in these “active defense” counterattacks, PLAAF analysts have voiced great hope that these operations can reverse the overall trend in a war or campaign from defen­sive to offensive, and “thoroughly remove [us from] the passive position of air defense, and allow us to obtain the initiative in a campaign”58

Conclusion

In their analyses of China’s emerging air force missions over the past decade or so, Chinese air and space analysts have devoted increasing atten­tion to promoting China’s preparation for offensive missions and its efforts to seize and maintain the initiative in combat. In their discussion of deterrence operations, this has included efforts to develop a ladder of signals of increas­ing intensity to ward off potential adversaries. In their analysis of offensive operations, these analysts have stressed the increased importance of offense in PLAAF missions. They have also emphasized the importance of targeting what they see as the fragile “systems of systems” that constitute enemy combat information systems. Finally, even within the defensive mission, analysts have placed a growing emphasis on counterattacks as a means of seizing and hold­ing the initiative in the face of near certain large-scale air attacks.

The Development of the PLAAF’s Doctrine

Roger Cliff

As history has repeatedly demonstrated, doctrine is key to the effective employment of air forces. No matter how capable an air force’s equipment and operators are, if they lack an appropriate doctrine, their employment will be ineffective at best and self-destructive at worst. A thorough understanding of the People’s Liberation Army Air Force (PLAAF), therefore, requires the fullest possible understanding of how its doctrine has evolved since its creation over six decades ago.1

Evolution of PLAAF Doctrine

Like the U. S. Air Force (USAF) and, indeed, the majority of the world’s air forces, the PLAAF was first founded as part of China’s army, the People’s Liberation Army (PLA). Unlike the USAF, however, which became an inde­pendent service in 1947 and went on to develop its own doctrine and employ­ment concepts, for over half a century PLAAF doctrine has struggled to move out of the PLA army’s shadow, even though the PLAAF became an indepen­dent service in 1949.2 Tied to the land-centric force-employment concepts of the PLA, PLAAF doctrine mostly evolved in step with that of the PLA army. In the initial years after the establishment of the PLAAF, “no consideration was ever given to making the air force a service independent of the army. . . because the PLA leadership did not want an autonomous aviation force.”3 Accordingly, the PLAAF’s first commander and political commissar were chosen directly from the army.4 The shadow cast by the PLA army over the PLAAF is evi­dent in the early roles and missions of the Chinese air force. For example, the PLAAF’s first operational mission in 1949—defending Beijing and Shanghai against Nationalist air raids—was defensive in nature.5 In the early 1950s, one of the PLAAF’s primary missions was seizing air superiority over the battle­field.6 Both of these missions are reflective of a ground force perspective on the utility of air forces.

The Korean War, battles over Taiwan’s offshore islands, and the Viet­nam conflict shaped both the evolution of PLAAF doctrine and the pace of the PLAAF’s growth from the 1950s to the 1980s. During the Korean War, the PLAAF’s original air plan was to support ground troops as its primary mission, again a reflection of the PLA army’s influence on China’s air force employment concepts.7 The PLAAF lacked the technical capability to execute this strategy, however, and had to change its mission to that of conducting air operations against U. S. forces. This caused the PLAAF to develop a basic air defense strat­egy and tactics.8

Air operations against Nationalist forces on Taiwan’s outlying islands of Yijiangshan and Jinmen (the latter also known as Quemoy or Kinmen) in the late 1950s also helped to shape PLAAF doctrine. The Yijiangshan Island cam­paign of 1954-1955 is the only campaign in PLA history to have combined air, ground, and naval operations.9 The PLAAF’s goals were to achieve air supe­riority, attack Taiwanese resupply ships, conduct decoy and reconnaissance missions, and provide direct air support for landing operations.10 Lessons learned from the Yijiangshan Island campaign resonate in subsequent PLAAF strategy and employment concepts and include a “relentless use of an over­whelming striking force to attack enemy artillery and firepower positions as well as command and communication centers.”11 Chinese military leaders also learned that they could overcome the short ranges and limited loiter times of their fighter jets by using the numerical superiority of PLAAF fighters to main­tain continuous fighter patrols.12 A third lesson was that, while attack sorties should be flown according to plan, commanders should allow flexibility “in target selection based on the need of ground forces.”13 The Yijiangshan expe­rience became a model for the PLAs concept of the role airpower would play in future small-scale conflicts.14 This was summarized as “air defense first, fol­lowed by air superiority, and then offensive air support.”15

The Jinmen campaign of 1958, the most recent Chinese military con­flict to truly involve air combat, was also an important shaper of PLAAF strat­egy and doctrine. The conflict also provides an example of how air operational principles were governed by directives issued from the very top of the PLA— the Central Military Commission (CMC).16 According to Zhang Xiaoming, the operational guidance of the CMC stressed using massed force to achieve protection of forces and destruction of enemy forces; subservience of military battles to political battles by a strict adherence to CMC operational policy; and study and application of PLAAF experiences and tactics drawn from the Korean War.17

Because the Chinese leadership was uncertain about the PLAAF’s coun­terstrike capabilities vis-a-vis Taiwan, the PLAAF was employed defensively. Thus, it “deployed large numbers of fighters to the region but could not capital­ize on its numerical superiority,” since it had to reserve half of its aircraft to pro­tect home bases.18 Along with the political concern of not wanting to escalate the Jinmen campaign into an international crisis, the limited range of Chinese MiG-17 aircraft also inhibited the offensive role that the PLAAF could play.19

In addition to battle experience, China’s political upheavals have also shaped the evolution of Chinese air force doctrine. Beginning with the Sino – Soviet split in the 1960s and during the 1966-1976 Cultural Revolution period, Chinese airpower, and the ability to execute its strategy and doctrine, atro­phied. The Sino-Soviet split significantly slowed the PLAAF’s moderniza­tion efforts, as China was highly dependent on Soviet technology transfers for equipping the PLAAF.20 And, due to the fact that air forces are, by their very nature, more technically oriented services than armies, the PLAAF suffered disproportionately from the Cultural Revolution, which discounted anything having to do with knowledge and expertise. Furthermore, the PLAAF’s asso­ciation with Defense Minister Lin Biao’s failed coup attempt against Mao in 1971 resulted in the air force being marginalized until after Mao’s death and the rehabilitation of Deng Xiaoping in 1978.21 Partly as a consequence, PLAAF involvement during China’s war with Vietnam in 1979 was limited. As in the case of the Jinmen conflict, China’s air involvement during the conflict was also constrained both by political factors—not wanting to involve the United States in the former case and the Soviet Union in the latter—and by the limited capa­bilities of the PLAAF.

When Deng Xiaoping took control of the CMC and later became China’s undisputed leader in 1978, he ushered in a new era of economic and military reform, which set all military services on a path to modernization and reform, and his perspective on airpower was elevated to official CMC dogma.22 This perspective viewed the pursuit of air superiority as crucial to Chinese military power and winning future wars.23

The actual implementation of Deng’s directives on Chinese airpower modernization, however, was constrained during most of his tenure as Chi­na’s paramount leader, for two major reasons. First, by attaching special politi­cal weight to the PLAAF, Deng not only wanted to alleviate the decrepit state of Chinese airpower, he also wanted to keep tight control over the PLAAF so as to prevent it from becoming the politically dangerous service it had been under Lin Biao during the Cultural Revolution.24 Second, the army-centrism ingrained during the Mao era attenuated efforts to implement near-term improvements in the PLAAF.25 For example, when the PLA began reorganiz­ing ground forces into group armies in the early 1980s, the PLAAF was given guidance that its role was to support the needs of ground forces and that a vic­tory was a ground force victory.26

The Gulf War of 1991 spurred renewed debate within the PLAAF and Chinese military establishment about how to modernize and develop Chinese airpower. The U. S. show of force in the Taiwan Strait crisis of 1996, in which the United States deployed two aircraft carrier battle groups near Taiwan in response to Chinese military intimidation of Taiwan, further motivated doc­trinal reform and technological modernization efforts in the PLAAF. The PLAAF’s hopes for a strategy of “quick reaction,” “integrated coordination,” and “combat in depth” had to be transformed from wishful desires to opera­tional realities.27 “Quick reaction” meant launching an instantaneous retalia­tory strike for deterrence, or even survival.28 “Integrated coordination” meant allowing the air force to “manage the long-range bomber air groups and over­see the initial stages of joint operations with the other services and between air combat units stationed in different military regions.”29 Finally, “combat in depth” meant conducting operations over a wide geographical area.30 However, operationalizing these concepts was difficult because, for most of the 1990s, military reform tended to stress internal organization and structural changes, as opposed to training and equipment modernization.31 The PLAAF lacked the equipment and training needed to implement this strategy.32

In the early 1990s, PLAAF employment concepts assumed that future wars would be conducted according to an active defense strategy with three phases: “strategic defense, strategic stalemate, and strategic counterattack.”33 Under the umbrella of active defense, PLAAF campaigns were divided into two categories—defensive campaigns and attack campaigns—either of which could be one of two types: independent air force campaigns or air force cam­paigns as part of a joint campaign.34 PLAAF publications also specified three levels of scale for an air defense campaign, with small campaigns requiring air defense of a strategic position, large campaigns requiring air defense of a battle area, and larger campaigns requiring air defense of many battle areas.35

A PLAAF study published in 1990 revealed both the desire to have a more unified air strategy, and the gap between desired strategy and the abil­ity to implement it. For example, one challenge to execution of the aforemen­tioned rapid-reaction strategy was the lack of a unified air defense plan in China.36 Each service possessed its own air defense forces, and coordinating the different elements within each service was challenging enough; it was vir­tually impossible to coordinate operations across services.37

Other dimensions of the PLAAF strategy included two principles: the “light front, heavy rear” [Шій’Ш] and “deploying in three rings” concepts.38 The light front, heavy rear principle stemmed from the PLAAF’s responsibil­ity to protect airfields, “national political and economic centers, heavy troop concentrations, important military facilities, and transportation systems.”39 Under light front, heavy rear, the PLAAF “would organize its SAM [surface – to-air missile] and AAA [antiaircraft artillery] forces into a combined high, medium, and low altitude and a far, medium, and short distance air defense net.”40 Intercept lines and aviation forces would also be organized into a series of interception layers.41 However, in executing this concept, the PLAAF faced two daunting challenges: the limited range of Chinese aircraft, and adver­saries that had aircraft capable of conducting deep strikes into Chinese ter­ritory.42 The limited range of PLAAF aircraft was worsened by the fact that most airfields and almost all SAMs were concentrated near China’s large cit­ies, far away from China’s borders.43 For the light front, heavy rear principle to work, moreover, the PLAAF needed to develop a better command-and-con – trol system; otherwise, there was a risk of fratricide to friendly aircraft from SAMs and AAA.44

To be used in conjunction with the light front, heavy rear principle, “deploying in three rings” involved organizing a small quantity of interceptors, AAA, and SAMs “as a combined air defense force into ‘three dimensional, in­depth, overlapping’ firepower rings.”45 Furthermore, according to Kenneth W. Allen, Glenn Krumel, and Jonathan D. Pollack,46

Each weapon system would be assigned a specific airspace to defend— high, medium or low. In-depth rings means assigning each weapon sys­tem a specific distance from the target to defend—distant, medium or close. Overlapping rings means organizing each weapon system into left, middle or right firepower rings facing the most likely avenue of approach.

The American experience with airpower in the first Gulf War trans­formed military thought on the use of air forces and what they could contrib­ute to modern war, and China was no exception to this pattern of influence. In 1993, after Operation Desert Storm, 60 airpower specialists formed an air – power theory, strategy, and development study group to investigate indepen­dent air campaigns.47 By 1997, the Chinese air force had “claimed precedence over the other service branches, and the People’s War as a unifying dogma had given way to service-specific strategies.”48

According to another study, as of the late 1990s, the primary PLAAF mis­sions were air coercion, air offensives, air blockades, and support for ground force operations.49 Coercion could come in the form of demonstrations, such as deployments and exercises, weapon tests, or overflights. It could also come in the form of limited strikes to warn or punish an adversary. Air offensives, by contrast, would entail large-scale strikes with the goal of rapidly gaining air superiority, reducing an adversary’s capacity for military operations, and establishing the conditions necessary for victory. An air blockade would entail attacks on airfields and seaports as well as on air, land, and sea transporta­tion routes with the goal of cutting off an enemy from contact with the outside world. Support for ground force operations would include attacks on logistics facilities, hardened coastal defenses (in the case of an amphibious operation), reinforcements, and key choke points, such as bridges. It would also include battlefield close air support, strategic and theater airlift, airborne operations against an enemy’s command headquarters, and the deployment of ground – based air defenses to protect ground forces and key facilities.50

As Mark A. Stokes noted, as of the late 1990s, PLAAF operational prin­ciples included “surprise and first strikes,” “concentration of best assets,” “offen­sive action as a component of air defense,” and “close coordination.”51 “Sur­prise and first strikes” refers to the goal of crippling an opponent and gaining the initiative early in a conflict through surprise and large-scale attacks on key targets, such as the enemy’s air command-and-control structure, key air bases, and SAM sites. Concentration of best assets supports this principle and refers to using the PLAAF’s best assets in the initial strikes and to dedicating the majority of them to targets that will have the most influence on a campaign. Offensive action as a component of air defense refers to using offensive coun­terair attacks as an integral aspect of air defense by attacking those enemy assets that pose the greatest threat. Close coordination refers to coordinating the air assets of all services (army, People’s Liberation Army Navy [PLAN], PLAAF, Second Artillery), as well as unified command at the theater level. As seen later in this chapter, these principles remain key elements of PLAAF employment concepts.52

A major change in PLAAF doctrine occurred in 1999, when it was issued campaign guidance (Ш&ШШ) that “provides the classified doctrinal basis and general guidance for how the PLAAF will fight future campaigns.”53 Since the guidance is classified, its exact contents are unknown. What Western analysts do know is that the guidance shows that the PLAAF had deepened its under­standing of the operational level of war. The PLAAF also now identified three types of air force campaigns: air offensive, air defense, and air blockade.54

Until 2004, the PLAAF lacked its own service-specific strategy, and the actual ability of the PLAAF to integrate its campaign and operational principles with the Second Artillery, PLA army, and PLAN was questionable. One study states that, until that time, the Chinese air force relied “almost solely on the PLA army’s Active Defense’ operational component as its strategic-level doctrinal guidance.”55 The approval of the PLAAF’s active defense strategy as a compo­nent of the National Military Strategic Guidelines for air operations in 2004, however, indicated an important shift in the PLAAF’s status.56 The PLAAF’s strategic component of the National Military Strategic Guidelines is now iden­tified as “Air and Space Integrated, Simultaneous Preparations for the Offen­sive and Defensive” ([Й^—фі^ЖШ^).”57 While it does not appear that the PLAAF yet has a service-specific strategy that is as well defined as the PLAN’s strategy of offshore defense, it does seem that the PLAAF is now seen as a truly independent service. Lanzit and Allen (2007) cite Hong Kong press reports that the PLAAF should be a strategic air force that stands “side by side” with the Chinese army and navy “to achieve command of the air, ground, and sea.”58

When military authorities hesitantly began acquiring “aeroplanes” in the years immediately following Orville and Wilbur Wright’s first flight of a heavier – than-air craft, the missions they had in mind for these new machines flowed from the novel but limited capabilities they offered. Considering them too fragile for combat and unable to carry ordnance heavy enough to contribute anything meaningful to artillery bombardment, the U. S. Army, along with the armies of several European countries, nevertheless saw potential applications in commu­nications and reconnaissance in the airplane’s speed and the visual perspective afforded by altitude. Such were the missions in which aircraft were first employed in combat, over Libya in 1911, the Balkans the next year, and, more significantly still, in Europe when war broke out in 1914. But it did not take long for the airmen flying these machines to begin finding combat applications for the unique capa­bilities that the new technology provided. Almost immediately, enemy reconnais­sance aircrews began harassing each other, first throwing bricks and hand gre­nades, later shooting at each other with handguns, rifles, and ultimately mounted machineguns. Before long, air services on both sides organized “pursuit” squad­rons with aircraft and crews dedicated to the air-to-air combat mission. By mid 1916, both the Germans and the Franco-British allies had developed machine – gun synchronizers, allowing them to fire ahead along the axis of flight by shoot­ing between the propellers, thus creating the first true fighter planes.1

Meanwhile, aviators developed techniques to strafe and bomb enemy trenches, and they began attacking lines of communication in efforts to inter­dict the movement of men and materiel to the front. The Germans even pio­neered the use of strategic bombing, striking London and other urban targets from lighter-than-air dirigibles, beginning in 1915. Later, in 1917, when the unwieldy Zeppelins began taking too many losses, German leaders transferred the mission to faster, more maneuverable Gotha and Giant bomber aircraft. Indeed, by the time U. S. aviators officially entered the war that same year— American volunteers had participated unofficially in the French Air Service’s Lafayette Escadrille (originally Escadrille Americaine) since April 1916—all of the principal missions flown by today’s air forces had already emerged in some form. Nevertheless, air operations ultimately had a negligible effect on the course of the war, due to the limitations in payload weight and bombing accu­racy that constrained aircraft capabilities in that era.2

Despite these limitations, several visionaries saw beyond the constraints of contemporary technology to grasp the potential of how aircraft might affect the outcomes of future wars, triggering the emergence of formal airpower the­ory. One of these individuals was Giulio Douhet, an artillery officer in the Ital­ian army. Douhet had watched the rapid development of combat aviation dur­ing the war and saw in the emerging capability of bomber aircraft a potential for striking enemy countries where he thought they were most vulnerable, their cities. In his 1921 book, Command of the Air, and several subsequent publica­tions, he theorized that airpower could be used to end wars quickly by bomb­ing urban areas to break the enemy’s material and moral resistance.3 Countries with the foresight to embrace the potential of airpower could thereby avoid repeating the bloody stalemate of the last war, where more than 8 million men had given their lives, many in frontal assaults against machineguns, artillery, and barbed wire, while stalled at the trenches in France.

Aircraft had the advantageous ability to strike the heart of an enemy’s country without having to defeat its armies first. Though World War I had demonstrated that disciplined soldiers could withstand considerable bom­bardment without breaking, Douhet believed that civilians would not be so resilient. Bombers could overfly enemy armies, thus avoiding the adversary’s hardened crust, and bomb major cities, causing panic and generating popular pressure to end the war. Douhet argued, however, that Italy could not afford to build the bomber force needed to carry out such a plan if it continued squan­dering its scarce defense resources on less effective military capabilities, such as ground and naval forces. Nor could the air service achieve its full potential if it continued to be administered by the army, because army generals would insist that aircraft be used to attack enemy forces and perform other battlefield mis­sions in support of ground operations.

Douhet proposed that Italy, instead, build an independent air force com­prised primarily of heavily armed “battle planes.” In the event of war, these planes would not waste time attacking the enemy army. Rather, they would first dispose of the greatest threat that a savvy adversary could muster—the enemy air force. Douhet’s first objective would be to bomb the adversary’s air­fields, destroying enemy planes on the ground and any that rose to challenge his battle planes, until Italy achieved command of the air. Then the air force would turn its attention to the enemy’s capital and major cities, bombing the civilian population into submission and enemy leaders into surrender.4

Another airpower visionary during the interwar years was Britain’s Air Marshal Sir Hugh Trenchard. Having commanded the Royal Flying Corps dur­ing World War I, he was an ardent believer in the war-winning potential of air­power and the chief interwar champion and architect of Britain’s independent

Royal Air Force (RAF). According to historian Phillip Meilinger, “Trenchard carried three main beliefs with him from the war: air superiority was an essential prerequisite to military success; airpower was an inherently offensive weapon; and although its material effects were great, airpower’s psychological effects were far greater.”5

In the years leading to World War II, under Trenchard’s guidance, the RAF developed a doctrine for strategic bombing which maintained that victory in war resulted from the collapse of civilian morale. Like Douhet, Trenchard disparaged dissipating airpower’s unique capabilities in attacks on armies in the field. Rather, the RAF’s principal doctrine publication, AP 1300, Royal Air Force War Manual, advocated bombing industrial centers to drive workers from the factories and destroy economic infrastructure—including public utilities, food and fuel supplies, transportation networks, and communications—to cause “a general undermining of the whole populace, even to the extent of destroying the nation’s will to continue the struggle.”6 And like Douhet, Trenchard insisted that the RAF retain its institutional separation from the army in order to hus­band the resources and maintain the freedom of action needed to carry out its independent mission.7

While U. S. aviators were influenced by Douhet and Trenchard, they were most inspired by the very public and often caustic arguments proffered by their own airpower champion, Brigadier General William “Billy” Mitchell. As a senior U. S. air officer in France during World War I, Mitchell was well acquainted with Trenchard, and after the war he also consulted with Douhet and Italian bomber designer and manufacturer Gianni Caproni.8 Like his European counterparts, Mitchell was an ardent believer in airpower as an independent, war-winning weapon, and he argued vociferously that the air services should be granted separation from all Army and Navy control. In Mitchell’s view, air warfare was unique, and only airmen, whom he saw as a “distinctive class of… aerial knights engaged in chivalrous combat,” had the proper mindset to lead it.9 It was a romantic image, one that he painted for public consumption at every opportunity in books, speeches, magazine arti­cles, and newspaper editorials, often criticizing Navy leaders and even his own superiors in the Army for their hidebound attitudes and for mismanag­ing the air assets under their control. Ultimately, his public defiance of mili­tary authority resulted in his court martial and resignation from the Army, but he continued to extol the virtues of independent airpower in publications and speeches until his death in 1936.10

Officers on the faculty of the U. S. Army’s Air Corps Tactical School (ACTS) at Maxwell Field, Alabama, followed the international airpower debate with interest.11 They too believed aerial bombardment was a weapon with war-winning potential, one best employed as an independent instrument against a country’s vulnerable interior, but they were less than sanguine about Douhet’s and Trenchard’s conviction that the key to victory lay in directly targeting the enemy’s moral resistance.12 Rather, having observed that warfare between industrial states had become very resource consumptive, they theo­rized that bombing an enemy’s armaments industry could deny him the capa­bility to wage war as well as the will to do so. Relying on deductive reasoning and circumstantial evidence—such as when a temporary closing at the only plant in the United States that manufactured a spring essential to the assembly of variable-pitch propellers brought aircraft production to a nationwide halt— ACTS theorists surmised that every industrialized nation-state had become a network of interconnected economic systems, an “industrial web,” with critical points, the destruction of which would lead to its collapse.13

Of course, striking such critical points from the air with sufficient force and accuracy to destroy them would be challenging—it could only be done with mass raids in daylight. And the enemy would resist mass bomber raids with all the fighters and antiaircraft artillery it could muster—the bombers would have to fly high and be fast and heavily armed. But comparing the capabilities of fight­ers and bombers of that era, and examining the development of such new tech­nologies as the Norden bombsight, they concluded that “high-altitude, daylight precision bombing” was not only possible, it would be key to winning a war with an industrialized state. Therefore, “an inviolable principle of ACTS was that air­men use the bomber only against vital material targets located deep within hos­tile territory and that it never serve in harassing operations of the Army.”14

Although theories for employing airpower as an independent, war-win­ning weapon were in vogue in several of the world’s leading air services, they were by no means universally accepted, and so an opposing line of thought— airpower at the operational level of war—arose. In Germany, for instance, desires to develop and employ strategic bombing were tempered by the need to use airpower in support of ground operations. As Germany was a continen­tal power with contiguous borders with its traditional enemies, Luftwaffe plan­ners recognized that they would likely be called upon to support the army at the onset of any future war. Nevertheless, Germany had its own interwar strategic bombing theorist in the person of Dr. Robert Knauss, a World War I combat veteran who afterwards helped shape Lufthansa, and whose ideas largely mir­rored those of Douhet.15

The Chief of the Luftwaffe General Staff, Walther Wever, who advocated a balanced development of airpower capabilities, also believed strategic bomb­ing would be an important arrow in Germany’s quiver. In 1934 he ordered work to begin on a long-range “Ural Bomber” that would enable the Luftwaffe to bomb military and industrial targets deep in the Soviet Union.16 However, several factors constrained the Luftwaffes development of capabilities for con­ducting strategic air warfare. First, the General Staff worried that the “ter­ror bombing” that Douhet and Knauss advocated would provoke Germany’s enemies to reciprocate with revenge attacks on German cities, so they blocked all attempts to have such tactics written into Luftwaffe doctrine.17 Second, although there was considerable interest in the early 1930s in developing long – range bombers for use against industrial targets, the Germans failed to clear the technological hurdles that would have allowed them to develop aircraft engines powerful enough to carry heavy payloads at the altitudes and distances needed to accomplish that mission. Finally, and perhaps most importantly, the Luftwaffe’s most influential strategic bombing advocate, Walther Wever, met an untimely death in an air accident in 1936. With his demise, the Ural Bomber project was canceled and Reich Air Minister Hermann Goring put the Luft­waffe in the hands of generals more interested in developing capabilities for supporting ground operations.

Consequently, from that point onward German airpower development focused on capabilities for supporting actions at the operational level of war. The Luftwaffe began procuring fighters and fast medium bombers for destroy­ing enemy airpower in the battle zone rather than by bombing aircraft pro­duction. General Ernst Udet, whom Goring appointed to direct the Office of Technical Development in 1936, insisted that all future bombers be designed as dive-bombers.18 General Hans Jeschonnek, appointed chief of the Luft­waffe General Staff in 1939, was similarly enamored with dive-bombing. As a result, dive-bombing was emphasized over level bombing and aircraft such as the Junkers Ju-87 Stuka (for Sturzkampfflugzeug: “dive bomber”) became exemplars of German airpower thought. Ultimately, the Luftwaffe’s doctrinal thrust shifted to providing interdiction bombing and close-air support (CAS) for armor and infantry actions in Germany’s emerging high-speed maneuver warfare doctrine, which, soon after its first employment in Poland, was dubbed Blitzkrieg (Lightning War).19

Similar, though not identical, experiences can be seen in other coun­tries during the interwar period. The Soviet Union had its own strategic bombing advocate in the personage of Air Force General A. N. Lapchinsky, who in the early 1920s wrote a book and several articles arguing that strategic bombing would be a major weapon in future wars. Alternatively, Army Chief of Staff Marshal Mikhail Tukhachevskii, while acknowledging a future role for strategic bombardment, maintained that airpower should be used mostly in joint operations, with light bombers, fighters, and ground-attack aviation integrated with armor and artillery employment in the execution of “deep battle” doctrine.20 Early on, Lapchinsky’s ideas found favor among Soviet avi­ators, ironically, not so much from a rational analysis of airpower capabilities as from a belief that strategic bombing was a “modern” form of warfare and therefore more appropriate for a military system built on Marxist-Leninist principles.21

However, as Soviet airpower thought matured, the orientation shifted. During Germany’s 1925-1933 air mission to the Soviet Union, German instructors emphasized the importance of air-ground cooperation at the oper­ational level of war. Later, during the Spanish Civil War (1936-1939), in which Germany and Italy deployed forces in support of the Nationalist cause and the Soviet Union supported the Republican side, air forces on both sides briefly resorted to population bombing, but ultimately enjoyed much greater success when they used their airpower in support of ground operations. By the end of the 1930s, the Soviets, like the Germans, concluded that, given limitations imposed by the technology at their disposal, airpower concepts developed around short-range ground-attack aircraft would suit their needs better than those requiring aircraft that they lacked the capability to produce.22

Japan and even Italy, the home of Giulio Douhet, exhibited similar pat­terns in thinking. Japan attempted to develop long-range bombers and the Jap­anese army and navy air services resorted to population bombing in Shanghai, Guangzhou, Nanjing, and Chongqing starting in 1937 in the war against China. But the Japanese experienced the same technological limitations and disap­pointing outcomes as did the continental powers of Europe, and they subse­quently focused their greatest efforts on using airpower in support of surface forces. Italy, alternatively, never made a serious effort to develop strategic bomb­ers. Although Italian air force leaders paid lip-service to Douhet—likely prudent, as he was a prominent Fascist—in practice they dismissed his ideas as immoral and inappropriate for Italy’s geostrategic challenges, following instead the more operationally-focused ideas of Amedeo Mecozzi. As the Spanish Civil War con­firmed their thinking, the Italians increasingly focused their attention on devel­oping doctrine for using airpower in support of ground and naval operations.23

Over the short term, the PLA’s ability to conduct strategic and opera­tional strike missions is likely to be restricted by the limited range of its persis­tent surveillance assets. Thus, to expand its battlespace awareness, the PLA is investing in four key capabilities enabling it to monitor activities in the western Pacific, the South China Sea, and the Indian Ocean:

■ near-space flight vehicles

■ space-based orbital platforms

■ airborne platforms

■ land-based over-the-horizon (OTH) and other radar systems.

The PRC has placed a relatively high priority on developing sensors for persistent surveillance from near-space. However, coverage from platforms simi­lar to satellites in low Earth orbit could offer significant improvements in resolu­tion. Duration of flight for near-space vehicles far exceeds that of unmanned aer­ial vehicles (UAVs), and their small radar and thermal cross-sections make them difficult to track and target. Powered in part by high-efficiency solar cells, near­space vehicles are viewed by PLA advocates as a relatively inexpensive means of furnishing persistent broad-area surveillance.104 Thus, over the next decade, near­space flight vehicles may emerge as a dominant PLA platform for

a persistent region-wide surveillance capability during crisis situations.105 In sum, despite the significant technical challenges that exist, the PLA and China’s de­fense R&D community have become increasingly interested in near-space flight vehicles for reconnaissance, communications relay, and electronic countermea – sures.106 For reconnaissance missions, synthetic aperture radar surveillance and electronic intelligence appear to be priorities.107

In order to overcome technical challenges, CASIC established a new re­search institute in 2005 dedicated to the design, development, and manufac­turing of near-space, lighter-than-air flight vehicles for surveillance purposes. Known as the the “068 Base Near-space Flight Vehicle R&D Center” and locat­ed in Hunan Province, its initial projects include the JK-5, JK-12, and JKZ-20 airships. The 068 Base has a cooperative R&D program with Russian counter­parts for upper atmospheric airship control systems.108

Increasingly sophisticated, space-based surveillance systems would ex­pand PLA battlespace awareness and support strike operations farther from

Chinese shores.109 Space assets enable the monitoring of naval activities in sur­rounding waters and the tracking of potentially hostile air force deployments into the region. Space-based reconnaissance systems also provide imagery nec­essary for mission planning functions, such as navigation and terminal target­ing and guidance for land attack cruise missiles (LACMs). Satellite communi­cations also offer a survivable means of communication that will become par­ticularly important as the PLA operates farther from its territory.

The PRC has embarked on a major dual-use, civil-military space pro­gram that is predominantly driven by the desire to stand among equals in the international community.110 However, as in most space programs, there is a military stake. A number of authoritative journals have advocated accelerating and expanding China’s space-based surveillance system, including the need for a “space-based theater electronic information system” covering an area of 3,000 square kilometers.111 Unverified sources indicate that a strategic cueing network for long-range precision-strike missions relies on a dual-use satellite architecture that is being implemented ahead of schedule.112

Integrated aerospace operations assume fusion of multiple sensors, in­cluding high resolution, dual-use space-based SAR, electro-optical (EO), and possibly electronic intelligence (ELINT) satellites for surveillance and target­ing. China’s space industry is reportedly nearing completion of its second-gen­eration SAR satellite, and its EO capabilities have been steadily progressing. As Chinese engineers have noted, SAR imagery is key for automated target recog­nition of ships at sea.113

While information is sparse, indications exist pointing to at least some PLA investment into developing a space-based ELINT capability.114 Prudence would suggest at least a rudimentary space-based electronic intelligence capa­bility already exists, perhaps as a package onboard a communications satellite or other space system. At least one design under evaluation is a constellation of small electronic reconnaissance satellites which can ensure precise location data and survivability. In a crisis situation, China may have the option of aug­menting existing space-based assets with microsatellites launched on solid-fu­eled launch vehicles. A new CASIC business division dedicated to microsatel – lites—the CASIC First Academy—was established in 2002. Existing and future data relay satellites and other beyond-line-of-sight communications systems could transmit targeting data to and from the theater command elements.115

Not surprisingly, radar systems constitute the foundational underpin­ning of China’s early warning network.116 The general trend is for PLA ra­dar coverage to expand upward into space and outward not just in the region but to global coverage. Chinese R&D is particularly focused on countering stealthy flight vehicles. Senior Colonel Liu Yongjian, a key air force acquisition authority responsible for technical radar requirements development, noted five priorities for radar development:

■ expansion of the radar frequency range from “microwave” frequencies toward a broader portion of the frequency spectrum

■ integration of space-based, airborne, ground-based, and maritime sensors

■ integration of infrared and laser-related sensors with passive and ac­tive radars

■ integration of radar functions, such as linking early warning and sur­veillance with seekers on strike assets

■ fusion of sensor data into an integrated network.117

The PLAAF appears to operate high-frequency (HF) skywave-exploit – ing OTH radar systems as a central element of an extended-range air defense and maritime surveillance architecture.118 Skywave OTH radar systems emit a pulse in the lower range of the frequency spectrum (3-30 MHz), which bounc­es off the ionosphere to illuminate a target—either air or surface—from the top down.119 As a result, detection ranges for wide area surveillance can extend out to 1,000 to 4,000 kilometers (620-2,480 miles).120 Able to detect stealthy air­craft, cruise missiles, and maritime surface targets, a skywave-exploiting OTH radar system could define the effective range of China’s strategic strike capa­bilities. A PLAAF unit known as the “skywave brigade” mans a watch center south of Hubei city in Xiangfan. The brigade operates transmitter and receiver sites and ionosphere measuring stations along China’s southeast coast.121

In addition to OTH systems, the PLA acquisition and technology and defense industry authorities have been examining other means to reduce the effectiveness of stealthy, low observable aircraft and other flight vehicles for at least 20 years. Technologies being developed include ultrawideband and bi – and multistatic radar systems, as well as synthetic aperture ladar systems.122

While GAD has a well-established space-tracking and control network, the PLA appears to still be working on radar systems capable of providing target queuing quality data for ballistic missile and satellite intercepts. However, a pro­totype long-range, large, phased-array radar has been used to support missile de­fense and ASAT testing over the last several years. One space surveillance radar R&D study indicated a requirement for detecting and tracking targets as small as 10 centimeters (3.93 inches) at an altitude of 500 kilometers (310 miles).123

In sum, the PLAAF, while technologically behind the U. S. Air Force and others, is nevertheless evolving into a force capable of dominating the skies around its periphery with support from the Second Artillery and information warfare assets. An aerospace campaign intended to coerce an adversary would emphasize preemption, surprise, and concentration of its most advanced assets to achieve a measure of shock. In order to effectively guide such a campaign, command and control would be centrally planned and executed by the Joint Theater Command, and supported by other joint command systems, including a joint Firepower Command Center, as well as command centers that would oversee component operations of the PLAAF and the Second Artillery.