In China, power is not only measured in apparently visible decisions, but in silences, sudden absences and names that stop appearing in official communiqués. It is in these voids that the most delicate phases of the Chinese political system lurk. The recent investigations into the military leadership, coupled with rising tensions in the Western Pacific, tell of a leadership committed to armouring itself internally while flexing its muscles externally.

The Zhang Youxia case and the heart of military power

The investigation into Zhang Youxia represents one of the most sensitive steps in the recent history of the Chinese Communist Party. Zhang, a high-ranking general, is a very important figure for the Chinese president, a true symbol of the relationship of trust between Xi Jinping and the People’s Liberation Army (PLA). Vice-Chairman of the Central Military Commission, Zhang was considered a guarantor of continuity, a man capable of holding together military modernisation, political discipline and internal legitimacy.

His career, built on decades of service and a rare and important wealth of operational experience, had made him an almost untouchable figure. Precisely for this reason, the opening of an investigation for ‘serious disciplinary and legal violations’ had the effect of a powerful but silent earthquake. In the language of the Party, this formula is never neutral: it is the antechamber to removal and, often, to political oblivion.

According to the latest rumours circulating in Western diplomatic circles, the focus of the accusations is not only corruption, but the construction of a dense network of autonomous influence within the armed forces, capable of bypassing the Party’s direct command channels.

Some sources also speak of unauthorised contacts with foreign interlocutors, including US military and strategic circles, something that is considered an absolute red line in Beijing.

In the corridors of Chinese power, moreover, rumours are circulating – never officially confirmed – about an attempt at internal coordination aimed at downsizing Xi Jinping’s personal authority, if not even preparing a form of indirect political challenge. Rather than a coup d’état in the classical sense, it would be a systemic threat: the idea that there could be alternative decision-making centres within the military apparatus. Underlying this is also the thorny issue of Taiwan’s reunification brought up by Xi and the different analyses and opinions perhaps not too much in line on Zhang’s part.

An accusation, in short, that touches the raw nerve of the system: the absolute principle of the Party’s control over the military. In other words, Zhang would not have fallen because of what he did, but because of what he stood for, indeed what he could stand for.

Purges as a method of government for Xi

The Zhang case is certainly not an isolated one. In recent years, figures such as Li Shangfu, He Weidong, Miao Hua and other prominent officials have been progressively removed or marginalised. However, one recurring element is striking, but which one?

Many of these men had been promoted directly under Xi Jinping’s leadership. This makes it clear that the campaign does not follow personal, but structural logic.

Xi seems to be moving according to a precise logic: no power centre should survive outside his direct authority, not even those that once guaranteed stability. In view of the next political cycle and the prospect of further mandate consolidation, the Chinese leader is reshaping the military apparatus as a fully political instrument, devoid of autonomy, even at the cost of temporarily weakening its operational efficiency.

The result is a Central Military Commission emptied of charismatic figures, with increasing weight given to the organs of discipline and control. An arrangement that privileges loyalty over competence, at least in the short term, indeed very short term.

Taiwan observes a more nervous China

In Taipei, these developments are read and observed with extreme care. The purges do not necessarily indicate a weaker China, but a more unpredictable one. On the one hand, a reorganising military apparatus might be less prone to complex, high-risk operations. On the other, a leadership that fears internal cracks might resort to calibrated shows of strength to strengthen national legitimacy.

Taiwan, aware of this highly unstable balance, continues to reinforce its defensive posture without falling into provocation. Taipei observes a Beijing committed to resolving its internal rifts while trying to project an image of total control over the island. But Chinese aims certainly do not stop here. The gaze is also on Manila.

Philippines, Scarborough Shoal and the Southern Front

In the South China Sea, however, the Chinese posture appears more assertive. The activities around the Scarborough Shoal (the shoal better known as Bajo de Sinloc) and the frequent frictions with the Philippine navy indicate a strategy of constant pressure, consisting of small steps and continuous testing. Beijing seems to exploit President Ferdinand Marcos Jr.‘s domestic political fragilities, alternating diplomatic messages with manoeuvres on the ground.

Meanwhile, the growing verbal tension between the Chinese embassy in Manila and sectors of Philippine politics fits into this context. The statements by Senator Erwin Tulfo, who openly called on Beijing to respect the country’s sovereignty and democratic institutions, are an unusual signal: the dispute is no longer confined to military channels, but enters the public and political space.

The invisible front: the CIA and the information war

It is against this backdrop of great instability that the CIA‘s move to publish a Chinese-language video on X aimed directly at citizens and officials of the People’s Republic fits in. The message is as simple as it is disruptive: there are safe channels to tell the truth about what is happening inside the Chinese system.

Is this also a ‘simple propaganda’ video? Far from it. It is a strategic signal to be followed with deep attention. The CIA implicitly recognises that the purges, internal tensions and reorganisation of power have created areas of discontent and uncertainty. Inviting potential informants to come forward is an attempt to penetrate those very cracks that Xi is trying to seal.

The technological dimension of the operation is also striking : instructions on how to circumvent censorship, protect digital identity and communicate securely. It is proof that the competition between the United States and China is no longer played out only on military bases or with diplomatic treaties, but in the global information space, where even a single individual can become a strategic node.

The crossroads of Xi Jinping, who now knows he is being studied

Xi Jinping ‘s China today appears compact on the surface, but traversed by deep and uneven currents. The military purges, the pressure on Taiwan, the manoeuvres in the South China Sea and the US intelligence response are pieces of the same mosaic: a system that strengthens itself by eliminating its own ambiguities, but in doing so also exposes new vulnerabilities.

Taiwan observes, the Philippines resists, Washington listens and proceeds. Meanwhile, Beijing continues to move with determination, aware that the real battleground is not just control of territory, but that of loyalty, information and internal consensus. And it is precisely there, between silent purges and seemingly innocuous videos on social media, that a decisive part of the future balance in the Pacific is being played out.