China’s Military Purge: When Emperors Feared Their Generals
General He Weidong is on the left, Zhang Youxia is in the center and Xi Jinping in the lead (Image credit Neil Thomas LinkedIn)
From Qin Shi Huang to Mao Zedong, China’s past shows what happens when political loyalty overtakes military trust—Xi Jinping’s crackdown revives an old imperial dilemma.
By S JHA
Mumbai, January 25, 2026 — Is China entering one of its most uncertain political moments in decades? As senior figures of the People’s Liberation Army disappear, are detained, or fall under investigation, Beijing insists this is merely a routine anti-corruption campaign. History suggests something deeper.
China does not need foreign metaphors to explain what is unfolding inside its military establishment. Its own past is filled with moments when supreme rulers, facing insecurity at the top, turned inward—purging generals not because of battlefield failure, but because of political fear.
Chinese history repeatedly warns that when rulers fear their own commanders more than external enemies, the state enters a phase of internal fragility.
The first such lesson dates back to Qin Shi Huang, China’s first emperor. After unifying the realm through relentless military conquest, Qin moved swiftly to weaken generals and dismantle autonomous power centres. Victory on the battlefield was followed by fear in the palace. The empire collapsed within a generation—not because enemies were strong, but because internal trust had vanished.
The pattern resurfaced during the Han dynasty, where emperors systematically sidelined powerful military families after consolidation. The fear was consistent: generals with independent prestige could one day become rivals. Loyalty to the throne replaced battlefield competence as the primary qualification for survival.
Centuries later, the late Ming dynasty paid a devastating price for this paranoia. As Manchu forces advanced, Ming emperors remained deeply suspicious of their own commanders, executing or humiliating generals on mere suspicion. The result was paralysis at the front and collapse at the centre. The empire fell not from lack of soldiers, but from lack of trust.
Perhaps the most chilling parallel lies in the late Qing dynasty. After repeated humiliations by foreign powers, Qing emperors feared that modernised generals—trained, armed, and popular—posed as much danger to the throne as foreign armies. By weakening military leadership in the name of political control, the dynasty ensured its own demise.
Modern China has lived through this cycle again.
During Mao Zedong’s Cultural Revolution, the People’s Liberation Army was not spared. Political loyalty eclipsed professional command. Institutions were broken so that personal authority could reign supreme. The scars of that decade reshaped China’s strategic thinking for generations, convincing later leaders that stability required strong institutions—not personality cults.
It was precisely to avoid this fate that Deng Xiaoping professionalised the PLA, separating party politics from military command and focusing on competence, discipline, and institutional loyalty rather than personal allegiance.
Today’s developments appear to reverse that logic.
As senior commanders with operational experience are removed, the question is not corruption alone—it is control. The central issue is whether loyalty to one man is being prioritised over loyalty to institutions. Chinese history suggests that such moments rarely signal strength; they signal anxiety at the apex of power.
This has consequences far beyond Beijing. A military leadership chosen primarily for political reliability may hesitate in crises—or overreact to prove loyalty. Either outcome increases risk in flashpoints like Taiwan, the South China Sea, and the Line of Actual Control with India.
History offers China a clear warning—written not by outsiders, but by its own dynasties: Empires fall fastest not when generals rebel, but when rulers fear them too much to trust them.
What we are witnessing may not be the rise of absolute power, but the tell-tale signs of a leadership fighting to preserve it.
(This is an opinion piece. Views expressed are personal.)
Xi Jinping’s Military Purge: Is China’s Leader Fighting for Survival?
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