Over the weekend, President Xi Jinping ordered investigations into Gen Zhang Youxia and Gen Liu Zhenli — the last heavyweight commanders still standing at the top of the People’s Liberation Army (PLA).
The move effectively leaves Xi in near-total operational control of the armed forces through the Central Military Commission (CMC), the most powerful body in China’s political system. The PLA’s official newspaper went further, accusing the two generals of undermining Xi’s authority and damaging the Communist Party’s “absolute leadership over the military,” according to reporting by the Financial Times.
This was not merely another corruption probe. It was a clear signal that survival within the PLA now depends on one thing above all: unquestioned loyalty to Xi.
Why it matters
In China, control of the military is existential. The Communist Party came to power through revolution and has long adhered to Mao Zedong’s maxim that “political power grows out of the barrel of a gun.” Losing control of the armed forces would endanger both the party and the leader.
That is why Xi’s latest purge goes beyond internal politics. By hollowing out the CMC and sidelining even senior figures once seen as allies, he has eliminated alternative power centres within the only institution that has historically posed a challenge to top leaders.
Dennis Wilder, a former CIA China analyst, told the Financial Times that the PLA is “the only organisation in China with a history of defying party leaders,” citing past confrontations under Mao. With Xi widely expected to seek a fourth term at the 2027 Party Congress, tightening his grip on the military now reduces the risk of elite resistance later.
The purges also intersect with foreign policy ambitions. US and Taiwanese officials have said Xi has instructed the PLA to be ready to take Taiwan by force by 2027 — a timeline that coincides with both the PLA’s centenary and the start of a potential fourth term.
Zoom in: Loyalty is not enough
According to a Wall Street Journal report, Gen Zhang Youxia is accused of leaking information about China’s nuclear weapons programme to the US and of taking bribes in exchange for promotions.
Official language offers deeper insight into Xi’s thinking. While China’s defence ministry said the two generals were under investigation for “serious discipline violations and violations of the law” — standard code for corruption — a PLA Daily editorial went further, accusing them of violating the “chairman responsibility system,” the doctrine that centralises all military authority in Xi’s hands as CMC chairman.
What puzzles many observers is that several of those purged were once viewed as loyal to Xi. Zhang survived earlier anti-corruption waves, even while overseeing arms procurement systems long associated with kickbacks. His continued rise had suggested trust.
But in Xi’s system, loyalty appears to have an expiry date.
Lyle Morris of the Asia Society Policy Institute told the FT that references to violations of the chairman responsibility system suggest Zhang had built influence independent of Xi. In other words, he may not have opposed Xi — but he may have become too powerful.
The distinction is critical. Xi does not simply want obedience; he wants dependence. Any senior figure who commands personal loyalty, institutional leverage or factional backing becomes a latent risk, regardless of past service.
Between the lines
Zhang Youxia’s downfall is striking because of who he was. A combat veteran of the 1979 China-Vietnam war, he was among the few senior officers with real battlefield experience. He was also a “princeling” — the son of a revolutionary elder who had fought alongside Xi’s father. For years, analysts described him as Xi’s most trusted military ally.
That is precisely why his purge matters.
As one Foreign Affairs article observed, Xi has demonstrated that even close associates are disposable. The scale of political casualties suggests not a loss of control, but a growing impatience with the military itself.
The Wall Street Journal described Zhang’s investigation as the biggest military shake-up since the fallout from the 1989 Tiananmen Square crackdown. By turning on a confidant, Xi is sending a message that no one — not even those with revolutionary bloodlines or personal ties — is indispensable.
James Char of Singapore’s S. Rajaratnam School of International Studies told the FT that Zhang’s fall also reflects factional balancing. The so-called “Shaanxi Gang” linked to Zhang and the rival “Fujian Clique” targeted in earlier purges were both power blocs within the CMC. By cutting down leaders from both sides, Xi ensures no faction grows strong enough to challenge him.
A historical echo
The New York Times has argued that Xi’s purges resemble the logic of Josef Stalin and Mao Zedong, where loyalists are repeatedly culled to prevent paranoia from becoming reality. Stephen Kotkin, a Stalin biographer, told the NYT that authoritarian regimes often target their own supporters because loyalty does not eliminate independent interests.
In this sense, the purges say less about immediate threats and more about structural anxiety. Governing a vast system like China’s — with a sprawling military-industrial complex and no independent civilian oversight — creates constant uncertainty. Purges become a tool for information gathering as much as punishment.
In such a system, loyalty is not protection. It is temporary.
The big picture
Xi’s campaign against the PLA did not begin this year. Since taking power in 2012, he has used purges, restructuring and ideological campaigns to remake the military into a force that can “fight and win wars.” Dozens of generals have been removed, two former defence ministers expelled, and entire branches — including the Rocket Force overseeing China’s nuclear arsenal — shaken by investigations.
Foreign Affairs analysts Jonathan Czin and John Culver argue that two goals drive Xi’s approach: ensuring the military is deeply politicised and ensuring it can fight modern wars, potentially against the US.
Christopher Johnson, head of China Strategies Group, told the WSJ: “This move is unprecedented in the history of the Chinese military and represents the total annihilation of the high command.”
These goals often clash. As the PLA modernises, it becomes more professional and technically sophisticated. That professionalism can drift toward political neutrality — valued in democracies, but viewed with suspicion in Leninist systems.
Xi’s answer has been relentless churn. Promotions and purges keep officers dependent on him personally. Political commissars and loyalty campaigns reinforce that commanders’ first duty is to the party, not simply to battlefield effectiveness.
The result is a military that is more advanced — and more fearful.
What’s next
Two questions now dominate Beijing watchers.
First, appointments. Xi cannot leave the CMC hollowed out indefinitely. Whether he elevates younger officers, political commissars or technocratic managers will signal whether he prioritises ideological reliability or operational competence.
Second, tempo. Ja Ian Chong told the FT that one way to gauge the disruption caused by Zhang’s arrest is to watch for delays in key meetings or changes in official schedules. In China, silence often speaks louder than statements.
Drew Thompson, a China expert, told Bloomberg: “Xi has reached the point where he no longer needs Zhang, who protected him and pushed through historic reforms of the PLA, but is now perceived as a rival and a threat to Xi’s absolute grip on power.”
One thing appears clear: the purges are not ending. As the PLA approaches its centenary and Xi nears another term, the incentive to eliminate uncertainty only grows. The message inside China’s military is stark: survival is temporary, power is singular, and in the end, only one man is meant to remain standing.
Xi’s ‘Sacred Games’ are still underway — and the chairman intends to win.
