How China’s history links military strength to fighting corruption

For China’s leadership, the most urgent lesson of modern military power comes not from a foreign manual but from its own history books. Its catastrophic defeat by Japan in 1895, born of internal corruption, forms the invisible backdrop to every Chinese showcase of modern hardware. The recent live-fire drill around Taiwan code-named Justice Mission 2025 – a forceful display of Beijing’s resolve to achieve reunification and deter any challenge to its core interests – was no exception. To Beijing, the true foundation of an effective military lies not only in advanced technology but also in institutional integrity. History teaches that material investments must be translated into real warfighting capability. It’s a lesson China is resolved to learn. Here then is the driving force behind the rigorous anti-corruption campaign that has defined the Chinese military apparatus in recent years. The anti-corruption drive in China’s military is notable for its scale. Official narratives frame this as a manifestation of institutional strength and self-purification. While the dismissal of senior figures like He Weidong and Miao Hua is presented as evidence of systemic resilience, independent analysts observe that such campaigns also serve to consolidate political control and eliminate rivals, raising questions about the interplay between genuine reform and political manoeuvring. While the stated logic is unmistakable, the ultimate test of the purge’s effectiveness will be its tangible impact on military professionalism, morale and warfighting capability, metrics inherently difficult for external observers to quantify. To understand the campaign’s profound significance, one must look back to the watershed moment of the first Sino-Japanese War (1894-95). On paper, the Qing dynasty’s Beiyang Fleet was a formidable force, boasting modern battleships that were the envy of Asia. Yet, it suffered a catastrophic, humiliating defeat at the hands of the Japanese navy. The reasons for this failure were not simply technological but rooted in the pervasive corruption and incompetence that rotted the Qing system from within. Historical accounts document a litany of failures: funds intended for the navy were diverted by Empress Dowager Cixi for personal luxuries like the Summer Palace while officials like Li Fengbao skimmed off commissions, buying three vessels for the price of four and viceroy Li Hongzhang controversially continued to supply coal to the Japanese even as war loomed, fuel that would ultimately power the ships that destroyed his own fleet. Military discipline was also lax. Navy commander Ding Ruchang, a former army man with little naval expertise, was known for running opium dens and brothels on the base. The corruption extended to the most basic level of warfare – munitions. Supplies were often shoddy; shells were found to be filled with sand instead of explosives, rendering the fleet’s guns useless in the heat of battle. These are the precise failures – in logistics, morals and the command – that China’s anti-corruption campaign seeks to render unthinkable in the People’s Liberation Army (PLA). This historical collapse was not just a military defeat; it was a national humiliation, with Taiwan ceded to Japanese control in 1895. It serves as a stark reminder that the most advanced weapons are worthless without integrity, discipline and competent leadership. The defeat was a consequence of a decayed political system, corrupt bureaucracy and a degenerate army. It exemplified how a state can project an image of strength externally while being critically weakened internally by rot, a lesson that continues to inform strategic thinking in Beijing today. The ghost of this humiliation makes the recent statement by Japanese Prime Minister Sanae Takaichi regarding Taiwan particularly resonant. For Chinese strategists, such commentary brings back the historical memory of 1895. This historical lens frames the anti-corruption drive not simply as a domestic political act, but as a fundamental strategic necessity to avoid repeating past tragedies. For China, the lesson is clear: the parade of modern hardware, from aircraft carriers to hypersonic missiles, is impressive, but it is only half the equation. The other, more crucial half, is the moral and political integrity of the institution that wields it. The anti-corruption effort must therefore be judged not by the rank of those dismissed, but by its success in fostering a military culture where professional competence and accountability are paramount, and where leaders are capable of orchestrating complex modern warfare under extreme conditions. The drills around Taiwan are a testament to how far China’s military has come. Yet, the true measure of its strength and its chances of success lie in the less visible, but far more critical, battle against the corrosion of corruption. This fight is inextricably linked to the deepest scars of Chinese national memory. The defeat of 1894-95 stands as a cautionary tale: a nation that fails to uphold discipline and integrity within its core institutions invites strategic vulnerability. As China continues its ascent on the global stage, the long-term sustainability of its power will hinge on its ability to build institutions that are not only powerful but also transparent, accountable and resilient. It is the crucial lesson learned from a painful past. The success of the anti-corruption campaign, therefore, is not just a matter of internal politics, but a key variable determining China’s future capacity to secure its interests and shape the international order. In this, China’s challenge is a universal one: to ensure the architecture of national power is built on foundations as solid as the weapons it produces.

How China’s history links military strength to fighting corruption

.css-1c6uqr6{color:inherit;font-weight:inherit;font-size:inherit;font-family:inherit;line-height:inherit;overflow-wrap:break-word;}Lessons from the first Sino-Japanese War in 1895 shape Beijing’s drive to build a PLA defined by not just advanced weapons, but also institutional integrity

Lessons from the first Sino-Japanese War in 1895 shape Beijing’s drive to build a PLA defined by not just advanced weapons, but also institutional integrity