Xi’s Iron Fist: China’s Top Brass Purged in Ruthless Power Play

Paul Riverbank, 1/25/2026China’s sweeping military purges signal tightening power under Xi Jinping, sowing uncertainty and distrust within the ranks. Behind official rhetoric, the deeper story is one of instability and the risks of concentrating authority. A volatile leadership casts long shadows, both at home and abroad.

Stories like this echo a pattern that’s become familiar over the past decade. Since Xi Jinping inherited party leadership, the ground beneath China’s top brass has felt increasingly unstable. Xi’s signature anti-corruption drive has swept up over 200,000 officials — a number roughly the size of a small city, folded into personnel charts. Each high-profile removal seems to follow a similar script: terse government statements, little public evidence, and an unmistakable hint that loyalty to the top trumps all.

What makes Zhang’s case unsettling to observers, both inside and out, is not only his rank but his deep-rooted connections. Zhang’s tenure stretches all the way back to the late 1960s, a career so enduring that some believed his closeness with Xi — their family ties have been the subject of quiet speculation for years — would guarantee protection. Yet, here he is, in the company of the fallen. One former intelligence analyst pointedly remarked that in today’s China, even old friendships can’t shield you if party loyalty is at stake.

This isn’t just about Zhang or even Liu. In the past several years, the upper echelons of Chinese military leadership have turned into a revolving door. Last autumn, Vice Chairman He Weidong was unceremoniously expelled. Two defense ministers disappeared from public roles under a cloud, also tied to accusations of corruption. In October, eight senior generals were ejected from the Communist Party in a single sweep. To call these events “rare” would stretch the definition; under Xi, purges have changed from exceptional episodes to a way of life.

So, what’s driving these high-level removals? The official narrative leans heavily on integrity — rooting out graft and strengthening discipline. In reality, those who follow Chinese politics closely see something deeper: a methodical tightening of Xi’s grip, a message that even the closest allies must watch their step. As analyst Gordon Chang observes, “the details of these purges are shrouded … but the outcome is visible: growing instability and a leadership culture where everyone is on edge.”

The pattern isn’t lost on Beijing’s military itself. The sense that “no one is safe” permeates through the officer corps, as sudden downfalls create uncertainty and a kind of professional paranoia. Trust, once eroded at the top, seeps through the ranks. And as many experienced China hands note, this does more than ruffle morale — it risks hollowing out loyalty over time, creating cracks where Xi least wants them.

The world outside China takes notice, albeit cautiously. The Pentagon’s latest defense assessments describe China as the United States’ “top military challenge,” though they stop short of rattling sabers. Instead, policymakers in Washington talk of managing competition: seeking a stable peace, not a zero-sum power struggle. Still, Xi’s campaign to solidify total command is viewed with deep suspicion among foreign defense officials, who quietly question whether the instability generated at the top could bleed into operational effectiveness down the line.

Yet, it’s the silence that lingers after each removal that says the most. Official explanations may be brief, but the message is piercing: if you cross the invisible lines, not even years of service or personal loyalty will save you. What emerges from behind the heavy doors in Zhongnanhai is not simply a system purging corruption, but a system keeping its own leaders off balance, perhaps intentionally.

As the drill of these political shakeups grows louder, one can’t help but wonder how many more trusted insiders may be swept away — or whether constant vigilance at the top comes at the expense of longer-term cohesion below. For outside observers, watching the inner workings of China’s ruling elite remains a guessing game, with clues offered only in the carefully staged spectacles of power and the conspicuous absences of those who once stood at its center.

Not long ago, China’s highest military circles were rocked by the abrupt investigation of two prominent generals — Zhang Youxia and Liu Zhenli. Both men carried considerable weight in the People’s Liberation Army. Their titles are imposing: Zhang, until recently, stood as the senior vice chairman of the Central Military Commission, and Liu served as its chief of staff. Now, the pair find themselves abruptly under the microscope for what state announcements call “serious violations of discipline and law.” That phrase, calculated and mysterious, echoes through every official release, yet offers the public little to decipher.Stories like this echo a pattern that’s become familiar over the past decade. Since Xi Jinping inherited party leadership, the ground beneath China’s top brass has felt increasingly unstable. Xi’s signature anti-corruption drive has swept up over 200,000 officials — a number roughly the size of a small city, folded into personnel charts. Each high-profile removal seems to follow a similar script: terse government statements, little public evidence, and an unmistakable hint that loyalty to the top trumps all.What makes Zhang’s case unsettling to observers, both inside and out, is not only his rank but his deep-rooted connections. Zhang’s tenure stretches all the way back to the late 1960s, a career so enduring that some believed his closeness with Xi — their family ties have been the subject of quiet speculation for years — would guarantee protection. Yet, here he is, in the company of the fallen. One former intelligence analyst pointedly remarked that in today’s China, even old friendships can’t shield you if party loyalty is at stake.This isn’t just about Zhang or even Liu. In the past several years, the upper echelons of Chinese military leadership have turned into a revolving door. Last autumn, Vice Chairman He Weidong was unceremoniously expelled. Two defense ministers disappeared from public roles under a cloud, also tied to accusations of corruption. In October, eight senior generals were ejected from the Communist Party in a single sweep. To call these events “rare” would stretch the definition; under Xi, purges have changed from exceptional episodes to a way of life.So, what’s driving these high-level removals? The official narrative leans heavily on integrity — rooting out graft and strengthening discipline. In reality, those who follow Chinese politics closely see something deeper: a methodical tightening of Xi’s grip, a message that even the closest allies must watch their step. As analyst Gordon Chang observes, “the details of these purges are shrouded … but the outcome is visible: growing instability and a leadership culture where everyone is on edge.”The pattern isn’t lost on Beijing’s military itself. The sense that “no one is safe” permeates through the officer corps, as sudden downfalls create uncertainty and a kind of professional paranoia. Trust, once eroded at the top, seeps through the ranks. And as many experienced China hands note, this does more than ruffle morale — it risks hollowing out loyalty over time, creating cracks where Xi least wants them.The world outside China takes notice, albeit cautiously. The Pentagon’s latest defense assessments describe China as the United States’ “top military challenge,” though they stop short of rattling sabers. Instead, policymakers in Washington talk of managing competition: seeking a stable peace, not a zero-sum power struggle. Still, Xi’s campaign to solidify total command is viewed with deep suspicion among foreign defense officials, who quietly question whether the instability generated at the top could bleed into operational effectiveness down the line.Yet, it’s the silence that lingers after each removal that says the most. Official explanations may be brief, but the message is piercing: if you cross the invisible lines, not even years of service or personal loyalty will save you. What emerges from behind the heavy doors in Zhongnanhai is not simply a system purging corruption, but a system keeping its own leaders off balance, perhaps intentionally.As the drill of these political shakeups grows louder, one can’t help but wonder how many more trusted insiders may be swept away — or whether constant vigilance at the top comes at the expense of longer-term cohesion below. For outside observers, watching the inner workings of China’s ruling elite remains a guessing game, with clues offered only in the carefully staged spectacles of power and the conspicuous absences of those who once stood at its center.