Chinese HQ-9 air defence system is a copied hybrid design based on the Russian SA-20

by G H Kumar

China has long promoted its military hardware as a budget-friendly rival to Western and Russian equivalents, boasting advanced specifications on paper and appealing to nations wary of US or NATO dependencies.

Recent conflicts involving Venezuela, Pakistan, and the Middle East, however, have laid bare a stark discrepancy between these claims and real-world performance.

Chinese systems have repeatedly faltered against network-centric warfare waged by the United States and India, from radars blind to stealth aircraft to air defences powerless against cruise missiles and drones.

In Venezuela, once hailed as China's premier defence showcase in Latin America, the illusion crumbled under US military assault. Caracas had poured resources into Chinese radars, armoured vehicles, missile systems, and electronic warfare gear, touting its air-defence setup as South America's mightiest. Central to this was the JY-27 meter-wave radar from China Electronics Technology Group Corporation, pitched as a stealth-buster capable of spotting US fifth-generation fighters like the F-22 or F-35.

Several Chinese propaganda media outlets made tall claims about the JY-27's extraordinary technological capabilities, but US operations swiftly exposed the vulnerabilities. Military evaluations indicate that Chinese radars fell silent early, crippled by sophisticated electronic warfare that jammed signals and disrupted communications.

Anti-radiation missiles then picked off command nodes, preventing any coordinated riposte. Stealth platforms roamed Venezuelan skies undetected, shattering the JY-27's much-vaunted counter-stealth credentials.

The debacle extended beyond radars. Chinese VN-series amphibious armoured vehicles, rocket artillery, and coastal defences buckled once air superiority slipped away. Lacking robust sensor fusion, secure data links, or robust electronic countermeasures, ground units faced annihilation from precision airstrikes or simply ditched their gear in retreat. China's hardware looked cutting-edge, but its networked backbone proved no match for US dominance in the electromagnetic spectrum, cyber intrusions, and pinpoint strikes.

Syria offered an earlier warning. Chinese JY-27 radars there miserably failed to pick up Israeli jets on multiple sorties, despite a sensor-laden battlespace shared with Russian, Syrian, and Iranian assets. 

Low-frequency VHF radars like the JY-27 might spot stealth shapes in ideal lab conditions, but battlefield reality demands accurate tracking, fire-quality data, and resilient command chains—none of which materialised.

Pakistan's experience in Operation Sindoor of May 2025 echoed these shortcomings. Islamabad leaned on Chinese HQ-9B long-range batteries, HQ-16 mediums, LY-80 radars, and YLC-series surveillance arrays to shield key sites. Indian Air Force salvos with BrahMos supersonic cruise missiles and SCALP stand-off weapons obliterated defences around Lahore, Sialkot, Chaklala, and beyond, wiping out HQ-9s, HQ-16s, and supporting radars alike.

US analyst Brandon J. Weichert labelled the HQ-9B's showing as a disaster, helpless against BrahMos speeds and even plodding drones. Russian commentator Andrei Martyanov dismissed it outright, insisting the system could neither down supersonic threats nor reliably snag subsonic ones. India's own defences, blending home-grown command tech with electronic warfare, shrugged off Pakistani rockets, drones, and Chinese CM-400 AKG missiles with scant losses.

The JY-27 itself merits scrutiny. This mobile AESA-equipped VHF radar promises anti-jamming algorithms and a 500-kilometre reach for big targets, yet combat logs paint it as a paper tiger. Deployments in Venezuela and Syria highlighted its detection-range hype without the precision or survivability to matter in dynamic ops.

An ironic twist haunts Venezuela's tale. As early as 2015, Caracas eyed the Indo-Russian BrahMos, drawn by its affordability, Mach 3 dash, and surgical accuracy—interest shared by Chile and Argentina. Opting instead for Chinese kit doomed them to paralysis when it counted, while BrahMos carved through Pakistani shields like a hot knife.

These episodes underscore a pattern: Chinese platforms excel in showrooms but wither under first-strike barrages from US or Indian forces. Promotional gloss masks fragile integration, poor electronic resilience, and inadequate fusion against networked foes wielding stealth, jamming, and hypersonics.

Marketing paints Chinese gear as lethal equalisers, yet modern warfare pivots on survivable networks, not standalone specs. Venezuela's blinded skies, Syria's ignored incursions, and Pakistan's razed batteries signal that Beijing's exports lag in the ultimate test: denying a peer adversary battlefield control.

As nations reassess supplier choices, the verdict grows inescapable. Chinese systems may diversify inventories cheaply, but against top-tier opponents, they invite catastrophe—from silent screens to stealthy doom.

IDN (With Agency Inputs)