Opinion

48-Hour Exclusive Exploration of the Stronghold of the US-Israel Enemy ‘Houthi Forces’

Published

06.04.2025 13:56

Ma Xiaolin

On March 28, after “disappearing” from my social circle for nearly 48 hours, I returned to the Yemeni capital Sana’a, coinciding with a new wave of airstrikes by the US and British air forces. Despite the danger at hand, my thoughts were still lingering in the past 48 hours—full of excitement and memories of my journey to and from Saada province and its steep mountains. We were not only among the first group of foreigners invited after the Houthi forces took control of the capital, but also pioneers lucky enough to explore the Houthi headquarters. Although the visit was brief and superficial, everything we saw and heard felt novel and fascinating.

March 26 marked the tenth anniversary of the Saudi-led Arab-Islamic coalition’s military intervention in Yemen’s civil war. For the Houthis, it also marked the tenth anniversary of their religious jihad against the Saudi coalition and the United States. On March 26, 2015, Saudi Arabia launched “Operation Decisive Storm,” with the coalition’s air force unleashing bombs and missiles across Yemen under the pretext of saving Yemen’s legitimate government and halting the Houthi advance after their capture of Sana’a.

At 5 a.m. that day, our “international brigade”—comprising former officials, journalists, and scholars from the US, UK, South Africa, Malaysia, Lebanon, Iraq, Bolivia and China—departed in a convoy arranged by the Houthis to visit their “revolutionary base” and “uprising headquarters” in Saada province.

For security reasons, our trip was kept secret. We departed at dawn when there were few pedestrians or vehicles on the streets. Instead of the armored and bulletproof vehicles we previously used in Sana’a, we traveled in identical white Toyota Land Cruisers, with a lead vehicle flashing lights but sirens off to guide us quietly out of the city.

Less than a week before the end of Ramadan, the city of Sana’a, which had been noisy all night due to evening iftar and pre-dawn suhoor, fell silent at dawn. We drove easily through the dark, sparse streets and left the city smoothly as the sky lightened, heading north on the Chinese-built Sana’a–Saada highway toward Saada city, the provincial capital 230 km away.

Sana’a and Saada, two adjacent inland provinces in Yemen’s northwestern highlands, have no rivers or tall mountains along the route—only continuous brown hills, gravel, and desert. Occasional small green oases provided a glimpse of life on this famously barren ancient land. While the scenery was monotonous and lifeless, it felt fresh and memorable to us.

No matter how far we traveled, on both sides of the road were clusters of short plants—either exposed to the sky or covered with white mesh—densely planted qat trees. Their leaves contain the hallucinogenic substance cathinone and juice that suppresses hunger and boosts alertness. Reportedly, 70% of Yemenis are addicted to qat. Though water is scarce, 60% of it is used to irrigate qat trees. In short, Yemenis can go a day without food, but not without qat.

After traveling nearly 200 km and reaching the border between Sana’a and Saada provinces, our driver told us this area was once occupied by Al-Qaeda and was only fully cleared by the Houthis after 2015. Although the Houthi-controlled area is in a state of war, we didn’t see any signs of conflict—no soldiers, military vehicles, camps, air defense systems, or war scars. Even the few security checkpoints were almost symbolic. In contrast, I experienced far stricter and more numerous checkpoints in southern Iraq last year, making that place seem more dangerous than Yemen.

Our vehicle was playing Yemeni pop songs all the way—rhythmic and powerful, in a typical Arab rap battle style. The melodies were modern and catchy, with tunes that deeply resonated, and the lyrics were passionate and stirring, featuring buzzwords like “Gaza” and “Palestine.” The driver said this was a representative work by a Houthi rap artist named Iras Laith (Iras being the Arabic name for Jesus, and Laith meaning “lion”), whose songs have gone viral globally, especially in the Third World. The U.S. government has reportedly placed a $26 million bounty on him.

Yemeni friends familiar with Irsa said that whenever he performs his rap, his comrades dance the traditional jambiya (curved dagger) dance around him, and his popular songs have seen massive downloads online. A Houthi soldier mentioned that in order to protect Irsa, the Yemeni people have hidden him—just as they’ve hidden their “revolutionary leader,” Hussein’s brother and heir to the cause, Abdul-Malik Badr al-Din al-Houthi.

Three and a half hours later, in a slightly dim and dusty atmosphere, we passed through the “Saada Gate,” damaged by U.S. or Saudi coalition airstrikes, and arrived at this city—considered the “eye of the storm” in Yemen and even the entire Middle East. We checked into the so-called five-star “Yemen Star International Hotel,” a six- or seven-story building. It is located on a side street off Saada’s main road and had clearly just been renovated, possibly even unfinished. We guessed we were among its first guests. Although the hotel lacked internet, it had most basic facilities and satellite TV with various foreign-language channels, including programs from the “Yemen TV” run by the southern government.

During our time in Saada, we experienced a rare extended internet outage, causing an unintentional scare for our families back home. On the morning of the 27th, I happened to see a text alert about a missed call—only then did I realize my daughter and other colleagues and students had tried to reach me multiple times and had been searching for us all night. Since we left the hotel at dawn on the 26th, we had lost connection with our contacts back home via social media and WeChat. In the rush to leave, I hadn’t anticipated a full communication blackout. Before departure, I had only briefly informed a contact at the embassy and a colleague at Xinhua News Agency via WeChat that I was joining the group heading to Saada. Since we didn’t return to Sana’a that day, and I had my phone on silent due to recent daily meetings, it ended up causing needless worry for friends, family, and colleagues. I truly feel sorry—though that’s another story.

Looking out the hotel window, the city of Saada was not large, shielded to the north by hills—about one kilometer wide east to west, and three to four kilometers long north to south. The city consisted mostly of low-rise buildings, many with tin roofs, and only seven or eight mid-rise buildings under ten stories tall. On the sunlit northern hills a few kilometers away, three giant Arabic slogans were spelled out in white stones: “Muhammad,” “Ali,” and “Persistence Means Victory.” The emphasis on the name “Ali” alone reveals the Shia religious identity of the people of Saada.

Yemen’s main population follows the Zaidi sect, the smallest branch of Shia Islam. Zaidis believe in the fifth-generation Imam Zaid, a descendant of Muhammad and Ali, whom they regard as the hidden Mahdi. Because of this, they are also called the “Five-Imam Sect.” Alongside the “Seven-Imam Sect” (Ismaili) and the “Twelve-Imam Sect” (Twelvers), Zaidis form one of the three major Shia branches. Zaidis have primarily survived in Yemen’s Shia-majority population and are theologically closer to Sunnis due to their recognition of the authority of the first four caliphs, making them the most moderate of all Shia sects.

Upon arriving in Saada, after a simple lunch, former Minister of Information Dayfallah al-Shami accompanied us to visit the U.S. and Saudi coalition bombing sites and the Saada Martyrs’ Cemetery. One site bombed by the U.S. was a cancer center under construction. At the scene, at least two top floors had been pierced by missiles, and the floor below had partially collapsed. Some group members found an unexploded heavy bomb in the basement. According to the site manager, this was the site of the March 24 U.S. bombing. No casualty information was mentioned.

After leaving the U.S. bombing site, we were taken to visit bombing sites left behind by the Saudi-led coalition. Along the way were several ruins, but our hosts specifically took us to see two bombed-out buildings at Saada University, one of which was a student dormitory. It’s said the bombings occurred around 2017. Desks and chairs under the rubble suggested that part of the facility had indeed been classrooms or laboratories. The seats scattered outside had been eroded by wind and rain, leaving only rusted metal frames… As for why the U.S. and Saudi coalition bombed civilian facilities, only the historical archives may one day tell us the truth.

On the 24th, while in Sana’a, we had also visited one U.S. and one Saudi coalition bombing site respectively. The U.S. strike was said to be on a residential building, but the remains didn’t look like a home—there were no signs of domestic items. Organizers said 15 people were injured and two died, though we weren’t arranged to visit any of the wounded in the hospital. The Saudi coalition site was from a few years ago and reportedly extremely tragic: over 800 people attending a funeral were “deliberately” bombed, resulting in more than 150 deaths and around 600 injuries.

What struck us the most was the Saada “Martyrs’ Cemetery,” where hundreds of war victims lie. Especially heartbreaking was the “Children’s Martyrs’ Corner,” where dozens of boys and girls who died prematurely are buried. In front of their flower-like portraits, mourners had placed bunches of fake flowers. Four of the deceased children were from the same family—it seemed they perished together in a single car, the twisted wreckage of which now hangs above their resting place. Previously, we had also visited a “Martyrs’ Cemetery” in Sana’a, but the emotional weight there couldn’t compare to the children’s section in Saada.

After our first day in Saada, we returned to the hotel together in a minibus. On the way back, we passed through the main street, where the run-down buildings resembled those in Sana’a. Infrastructure was very poor, and street shops were mostly ordinary stores, repair shops, eateries, or fruit stands. The streets were packed with people, and puddles and mud from recent rain made the roads chaotic. Cars and motorbikes weaved wildly, and there wasn’t a single traffic light on the main street. A few traffic police vaguely attempted to direct traffic. What caught my eye most was that nearly every motorcycle carried three or four children—an indirect sign of Yemen’s high birthrate and youth-heavy population.

That night in Saada wasn’t peaceful. Our thoughtful hosts knocked on the door to ask if we needed toiletries. We politely declined and hinted not to be disturbed again. However, at midnight, they knocked again and brought a large bag of unopened pajamas and toiletries, which was quite touching. In the deep of night, as we were fast asleep, they knocked a third time to deliver a hearty breakfast—flatbread, chickpea paste, eggs, drinks, and mineral water—placing the tray at our door.

Around noon on the 27th, our hosts, having taken a good nap after iftar, appeared leisurely in the hotel lobby and “suddenly” informed us that we would be going to Maran, a town on the northern border of Saada province, 70 kilometers away, to visit the hometown of Hussein, the founder of the Houthi movement. It was another unexpected delight. We divided into Toyota off-road vehicles, crossed Saada city, and headed for the northern mountains of the province bordering Saudi Arabia.

Throughout the week, all our activities had been notified at the last minute. We were never told in advance who we would meet—not even the drivers knew our next stop; they were only told to follow. Due to the wartime situation and open threats from Israel and the U.S. to assassinate Houthi leaders, the secrecy of our movements was for the safety of both our hosts and us foreign guests. We fully understood this and respected the principle: “guests follow the host.”

Heading north from Saada, the 70-kilometer journey involved crossing mountain after mountain—the farther we went, the higher the mountains, and the steeper the roads. Although the quality of the mountain roads rivaled provincial highways back home, they were still winding and twisty, taking two full hours for a one-way trip. Unlike the semi-hilly, semi-desert landscape along the Sana’a–Saada highway, this mountainous route revealed large oases, terraced fields, sparse trees, and even streams and small dams, indicating that northern Saada is a relatively agriculturally developed area, though still mostly at a subsistence level of natural economy.

Approaching the birthplace of the Houthi movement—the town of Maran, where Hussein launched his rebellion—the terrain was dominated by towering ridgeline mountains running east-west, averaging over 200 meters in height. Each mountain had three to five typical Yemeni earth buildings about ten meters tall. The mountains around Maran are densely packed, with earthen buildings scattered across peaks, forming a breathtaking skyline that resembled a miniature “Great Wall.” The scene evoked an ancient system of warning beacons, signaling threats across great distances.

Below this “Great Wall” were clusters of earth buildings that resembled a mix between farmhouses, forest forts, and watchtowers. These provided shelter from the elements for local farmers and served as strongholds against outside threats. This remote area—far from the centers of power in both Yemen and neighboring countries—offered an ideal environment for guerrilla warfare. It’s here that the Houthi movement was born, grew strong, suffered setbacks, and rose again—ultimately expanding from Yemen’s northwest corner to take over much of the country.

Finally, deep in the mountains, just 20 kilometers from the Saudi border and adjacent to the Saudi regions of Jizan and Najran, we arrived at Maran—a small, picturesque town nestled in the hills. This was Hussein’s hometown and resting place, located in a naturally defensible spot with steep terrain.

The Houthi forces built a majestic “Martyrs’ Cemetery” on a high point resembling an eagle’s beak, constructed primarily in off-white stone and offering panoramic views of the surrounding mountains. On the town’s broadest hilltop—nearly 1,000 square meters—they also built a grand marble plaza for Hussein’s tomb. At the center lies a beautifully crafted rectangular sarcophagus engraved with Quranic verses. Along a long flight of concrete stairs descending the mountain, another burial site can be found, along with a cave where Hussein once hid from government troops during the early revolutionary days.

Shami, our guide and recently resigned Minister of Information, accompanied us throughout. He vividly narrated the life of Hussein and the legends of the Houthi movement, especially the six-year “First War” from 2004 to 2010, recounting dramatic life-and-death struggles between the Houthis and the government, and the key figures who played roles in that era.

What stood out was Shami’s emphasis that the Houthi movement doesn’t operate on a cycle of revenge and has moved beyond tribal narrow-mindedness. Many former mortal enemies who once exchanged gunfire with them are now colleagues and comrades, holding positions in the Houthi-led administration. In fact, none of the Houthi officials who accompanied us to Saada—including the escorts, bodyguards, and drivers—were from Saada. They hailed from Sana’a, Ibb, Marib, and even more distant provinces. Former Houthi Prime Minister Habtoor, whom I had interacted with several times, is from Aden and once served as its governor—suggesting he is likely a Sunni Muslim.

My Houthi friends told me that they don’t differentiate by sect or region; they believe in “One Yemeni Family.” The Houthi movement’s ability to sweep through northwest Yemen and ultimately control more than half the country would have been impossible without such inclusiveness.

In 1962, a republican revolution broke out in North Yemen, ending more than 1,000 years of Zaidi Imamate theocratic rule. Afterward, Zaidi elites and the population found themselves caught between the internal pressure of Yemen’s secular republicanism and external pressure from Saudi-supported Sunni Salafism, and were gradually marginalized. In 1992, aiming to revive “Zaidism,” religious leader Hussein from Saada established the “Believing Youth” movement. Through religious schooling and preaching, it spread religious and political ideas, resisting the republican regime led by Saleh internally and countering Saudi ideological expansion externally, while also laying out a vision for an Iranian-style Islamic regime.

In 1994, four years after Yemeni unification, civil war broke out. Hussein, who belonged to the same powerful Hashid tribe as Saleh, led Saada tribal militias to help the government suppress the southern rebellion—partly out of tribal interests and other political calculations—thereby growing his own power.

After 2001, as the U.S. launched wars in Afghanistan and Iraq, the Saleh government was forced to align with the U.S., supporting troop deployments to both countries. While the Houthis did not support international terrorism, they consistently adhered to anti-American and anti-Zionist ideology, focused on liberating Islamic lands and reviving Islam. This caused the two sides to become enemies again. In 2004, a six-year civil war broke out between the Houthis and government forces. Hussein was killed early in the conflict. His successors renamed the “Believing Youth” to the “Houthis” in his honor, vowing to carry on his fight until a ceasefire was brokered by Saudi Arabia in 2010.

In 2011, the Arab Spring reached Yemen. The country plunged into political chaos. Losing both military and popular support, and abandoned by the Hashid tribe, Saleh was forced to resign. With backing from Saudi Arabia and other Gulf states, the Hadi government—mainly supported by southern factions—was established. In 2014, amid efforts to form a federal system, the Houthis rebelled again, claiming their interests were not being protected. They swiftly entered the capital, seized power, and—teaming up with Saleh for the third time—set up parallel administrative and legislative institutions to replace the Hadi government, forcing it into exile in Saudi Arabia.

On March 25, 2015, Saudi Arabia formed a “Ten-Nation Coalition” of Arab and Islamic countries to intervene in Yemen’s civil war, and on March 26 officially began airstrikes against the Houthis—ushering in a new phase of the conflict. The Houthis declared Saudi Arabia, its allies, and their Western backer, the United States, as enemies. The following year, with Jordan and others mediating, the Houthis began peace talks with the coalition. In 2017, Saleh—accused by the Houthis of betrayal and of negotiating for personal gain—broke ranks. Disputes over military control further escalated tensions. Eventually, Saleh was intercepted and executed by the Houthis while fleeing Sana’a.

By 2023, the Houthis had become a powerful force, controlling half the country. They extended Hussein’s anti-American, anti-Israel ideology abroad and, for the first time, intervened in the Israel-Palestine conflict. They became a solid pillar of the “Axis of Resistance,” opened a front in the Red Sea, targeted Israel, and even launched airstrikes deep inside Israeli territory—triggering military retaliation from the U.S., U.K., and others.

On the night of the 27th, after having iftar in Saada, we concluded our rapid tour of the Houthi stronghold and began our overnight journey back to Sana’a. The drive took nearly four hours, with no streetlights along the way—our young driver relied entirely on his familiarity with the roads. He had been driving all day, and we worried about whether he had the strength to stay alert. But Yemenis have their own way—both the driver and the bodyguard riding shotgun kept chewing qat leaves for energy, seasoned by years of battlefield experience. The bodyguard, only 23 years old, was already a veteran with five years of combat experience.

While we were away from Sana’a, media reports indicated that the U.S. and U.K. had launched airstrikes on Sana’a International Airport and other targets. Shortly after midnight, we returned to the noisy city of Sana’a. We had barely settled into our hotel for half an hour, just beginning to notify friends and family via WeChat, when a series of thunderous explosions erupted in the clear night sky. The sound of F-16 fighter jets circling overhead followed, along with sporadic anti-aircraft fire. Drawing on my extensive frontline experience in Gaza and Baghdad, I could almost identify every model of jet, missile, bomb, or bullet just by sound. My immediate reaction: “The U.S. is launching an airstrike.” And this was the first time during my week in Yemen that I directly experienced and heard a U.S. strike.

On the 29th, I left Yemen as planned, bidding farewell to the Houthi movement, with whom I had only just begun to interact and was far from familiar. Yet, the Houthis have now risen to become a key part of the “Axis of Resistance” and an important player on the Middle Eastern stage. This political “celebrity” or “nouveau riche” type of non-state actor, despite Yemen’s extreme poverty and streets full of struggling citizens, has positioned itself as the backbone and vanguard of “Palestinian liberation.” In my view, its enthusiastic promotion of the Palestinian cause is a strategy aimed at shielding itself under the banners of pan-Islamism and pan-Arab nationalism, using the turmoil it stirs in the Middle East—especially in the Red Sea and Eastern Mediterranean—to gain broader domestic, regional, and international legitimacy. Ultimately, this is a bid to force the international community to recognize it as Yemen’s sole legitimate representative, or at the very least, to secure dominance and voice in the process of forming a joint government.

This trip may not have yielded every possible gain, but it still brought many insights—some even unexpected. That said, the regrets are obvious. Despite our repeated requests, we never got the chance to visit the front lines to see Houthi soldiers, equipment, or camps. We had no opportunity to speak with their top leader—Hussein’s brother and successor Abdul-Malik al-Houthi. We didn’t visit the crucial Red Sea port city of Hudaydah under Houthi control, let alone conduct a full investigation in rival-controlled areas like Aden or Taiz.

Fouad, an advisor to the Houthi “Prime Minister” who coordinated my entire visit, tried to reassure me, saying, “It’s okay. Come again next year. We’ll take you to Aden, or anywhere else you want to go.” This wasn’t just his personal wish—it likely reflects the broader ambition of the Houthis to one day unify and rule the entire country.

Prof. Ma is the Dean of the Institute of Mediterranean Studies (ISMR) at Zhejiang International Studies University in Hangzhou. He specializes in international politics, particularly Islam and Middle Eastern affairs. He previously worked as a senior Xinhua correspondent in Kuwait, Palestine, and Iraq.

The Houthi War: The “Sixth Middle East War” and the Palestinian Narrative

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Opinion

Can China Do More Than Condemn Israel?

Published

17 hours ago

16/06/2025

Shaoyu Cen

Iran suffered a heavy blow from Israel. During the first 12 hours of the attack, it even couldn’t fight back. In the wake of the sudden raid, there is increasing global discussion about potential mediators who might help de-escalate the situation. Some voices suggest that China, having played a key role in reconciling Saudi Arabia and Iran in 2023 and organizing a dialogue between Palestine fractions in 2024, could step into this new crisis as a peacemaker.

However, while China’s diplomatic achievements in the Middle East deserve recognition, it is a serious overestimation to assume that Beijing can—or should—be expected to resolve every conflict in the region. At least, not now. The Israel-Iran conflict is fundamentally different in scope, depth, and international entanglement. To understand why, it is crucial to examine both the capabilities and limitations of China’s role in Middle Eastern affairs.

The US Can’t Be Bypassed

China’s mediation in 2023 that led to the normalization of relations between Saudi Arabia and Iran was heralded as a diplomatic breakthrough. It showcased Beijing’s growing influence in a region long dominated by U.S. security interests. The agreement was emblematic of China’s preferred diplomatic style—low-key, pragmatic, and built on economic incentives and mutual respect for sovereignty.

However, the success of the Saudi-Iran rapprochement was made possible by a unique alignment of interests. Both Tehran and Riyadh had compelling internal reasons to reduce tensions. Saudi Arabia wanted a calm environment for Vision 2030 and economic transformation, while Iran was under pressure from domestic unrest and economic sanctions by the West. In this case, China acted more as a facilitator than an enforcer.

This experience cannot simply be applied to the current Israel-Iran conflict. First, the conflict between Israel and Iran is not just a bilateral rivalry but a multi-dimensional standoff involving proxy forces, ideological opposition, nuclear tensions, and deep historical hostility. Second, Israel is closely aligned with the United States, a global competitor to China, complicating Beijing’s ability to act as a neutral intermediary.

For decades, Israel has been a central pillar of U.S. policy in the Middle East—not just as a security partner, but as a forward position against the rise of any rival or “non-rival” regional powers such as Iran, Iraq, Egypt, and even Turkey and Saudi Arabia. In this context, any attempt by China to mediate would be interpreted in Washington not as a neutral peace initiative, but as a geopolitical maneuver that challenges American primacy in the region.

Even if China were to act with genuine impartiality, its growing involvement would inevitably be seen through the lens of great-power competition. A meaningful intervention cannot bypass the United States, and would likely trigger strong diplomatic push back. This turns the crisis from a bilateral issue or trilateral dialogue with China in it, into a four-party interaction—China, the U.S., Israel, and Iran—each with distinct agendas and red lines, further reducing the space for effective mediation.

Moreover, the domestic political situation within Israel adds another layer of complexity that China—or any external actor—must contend with. Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu has faced significant political turmoil in recent years, including corruption trials, mass protests over judicial reform and his Gaza policy, and divisions within his governing coalition. Many of his foreign policy decisions, including this attack on Iran, are widely seen as being driven more by short-term political calculations than by coherent national strategy. Even Washington post said so, too. This level of internal political instability makes it extremely difficult for external powers like China to engage in sustained, high-level diplomacy with reliable counterparts or long-term commitments.

Iran’s Willingness: A Prerequisite

Another factor that limits China’s potential role is Iran’s own willingness—or lack thereof—to accept Chinese mediation in a conflict where national survival and regional dominance are at stake. While Iran appreciates China as a strategic partner in trade, energy, and diplomatic support at the United Nations, it does not necessarily see Beijing as a military or security guarantor.

When mediating between Saudi Arabia and Iran, security guarantees were not necessary, as neither side truly believed the other would launch a direct attack. Moreover, Iran-backed forces in Yemen had even gained some advantage in their asymmetric conflict with Saudi Arabia and its allies. However, in the face of an increasingly unrestrained Israel, effective mediation is likely to require real security guarantees. Yet for China—already facing direct military pressure from the United States—offering such guarantees abroad would be an unaffordable luxury.

Moreover, the types of support China can offer—diplomatic pressure, economic aid, or even military technology—are only valuable if Iran sees them as credible and effective. In the future, what China can provide is not the security guarantee but a package of advanced defence system. This is where a critical reality intrudes: Iran may not have sufficient confidence in the practical utility of China’s military systems.

Although Iran’s air force has engaged in multiple overseas operations, its air fleet is outdated. Years of involvement in counter-terrorism campaigns against ISIS have also diverted its development focus away from achieving air superiority. Iran’s air defense systems, while more advanced and numerous than those of most countries—and supported by a domestic capacity to produce air-defense radars and missiles—still fall short when facing top-tier adversaries. The division of these systems between the Iranian Army and the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps further complicates coordination and effectiveness.

Modern warfare has evolved rapidly. Effective defense now requires advanced stealth fighters, advanced radar integration, electronic warfare, satellite data, and real-time coordination with air superiority assets—capabilities that Iran has not yet fully developed.

The recent aerial conflict between Pakistan and India demonstrated the effectiveness of China’s fighters, long-range air-to-air missiles, and integrated air defense and warning systems. Although the J-10CE is not China’s most advanced fighter, within a well-coordinated system, it successfully engaged and shot down India’s French-made Dassault Rafale using PL-15 missiles.

Of course, the Israeli Air Force is far more advanced and experienced than India’s, and this time it is authorized by the U.S. to deploy stealth F-35s. However, the reality remains that the People’s Liberation Army is preparing for the possibility of U.S. intervention in a future conflict over Taiwan. Countering the U.S.’s F-22s and F-35s is one of the central considerations in this scenario. If Iran aspires to effectively counter Israeli F-35s in the future, it will have very limited options other than China.

However, even Pakistan, a longtime Chinese ally with deep military cooperation ties, has shown caution in relying solely on Chinese defence system not many years ago. The fact should give pause to those who believe Iran will immediately trust Beijing to reshape its military-building decisions.

Regional Perceptions and Misconceptions

Another dimension often overlooked is how China is perceived by other regional actors. In much of the Middle East, China is respected as an economic power but not necessarily trusted as a security actor. It has no military alliances in the region, no history of enforcing peace, and only limited experience managing wartime diplomacy. Its military base in Djibouti remains its only overseas installation, and while it participates in joint exercises, China generally avoids entanglements in conflicts.

This low-profile strategy aligns with China’s broader foreign policy principles: non-interference, strategic patience, and economic focus. But these same principles limit its leverage in crises that demand rapid response, force projection, or hard security guarantees.

All of the perceptions are right. But the foundational idea of it is always misconceived. First, China itself suffered deeply under Western imperial powers for over a century. As a result, it harbors no desire to become a new hegemony in the Western mold—a stance that also aligns with its foundational communist ideology.

Second, China’s leadership draws lessons not only from its own long and turbulent history, but also from global historical patterns, particularly the rise and decline of Western powers. Perhaps the most important insight is that nearly every great empire ultimately collapsed due to overreach.

Providing security guarantees in regions thousands of kilometers away could mark a dangerous first step toward such overextension. In contrast, selling military systems—while somewhat strategic if including stealth fighters J-35 and the most advanced surface-air missiles—is far less risky and remains within the bounds of manageable influence.

This is not to say that China should remain entirely passive. Beijing can and should use its diplomatic weight to call for restraint, support ceasefire initiatives through the UN, and maintain backchannel communications with Tehran and potentially with Israel. It can also support reconstruction efforts, offer humanitarian aid if necessary, and promote regional economic integration as a long-term peace strategy.

But none of these measures should be mistaken for the kind of high-stakes crisis diplomacy needed to stop an active military confrontation. That type of intervention requires somewhat coercive tools that China currently lacks and even if it has, it could be unwilling to use.

In sum, the idea that China should intervene decisively in the Israel-Iran conflict overlooks the structural realities of modern geopolitics. While China’s growing presence in the Middle East gives it more diplomatic clout than ever before, it should not be overestimated.

Opinion

Trump’s Iron-Fist Crackdown on Illegal Immigration Further Tears Apart American Society

Published

18 hours ago

16/06/2025

Ma Xiaolin

As of June 13 (Pacific Time), one week had passed since a conflict erupted following a raid on illegal immigration sites in California by federal agencies such as Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE). This conflict not only showed no signs of abating but rather spread like wildfire from Los Angeles, the capital of California, to 24 cities across the United States, including San Francisco, Dallas, Austin, New York, and Washington. Although protesters strongly oppose the federal government’s forced deportation of illegal immigrants, President Trump, who has already deployed the National Guard and some Marine units, has threatened to invoke the Insurrection Act, authorizing armed forces to suppress protesters more forcefully.

That same day, the U.S. Court of Appeals suspended a federal judge’s previous night ruling requiring Trump to return control of the National Guard. This undoubtedly gave Trump’s iron-fisted action a legal umbrella. The “alternative civil war” sparked by immigration policy reveals the complex realities and interest struggles of American society and puts Trump and the Republican Party’s governance prospects to the test. Although this unrest is unlikely to lead to a real American civil war as depicted in the 2024 Hollywood political prophecy film Civil War, it will undoubtedly further tear American society apart.

On June 6, federal law enforcement officers carried out a raid in Los Angeles County targeting illegal immigrants, storming at least seven locations and arresting 44 people. That evening, 500 protesters gathered in downtown Los Angeles, where law enforcement used tear gas, flashbangs, and rubber bullets to suppress them. On June 7, violent clashes erupted between federal law enforcement and protesters in the city of Paramount, California. As the crackdown on illegal immigration met resistance, Trump signed a presidential memorandum to “liberate Los Angeles,” bypassing California Governor Newsom and deploying 2,000 state National Guard troops to Los Angeles.

This marked the first time since 1965 that a U.S. president activated a state’s National Guard without a request from the state’s executive authority. On June 8, Trump further threatened to deploy 700 Marines to California to “protect federal property.” Trump’s administrative pressure campaign against California ignited the fuse of this “domestic unrest” and triggered a new constitutional crisis.

On June 9, Governor Newsom and California Attorney General Rob Bonta filed a motion for a temporary restraining order to prevent the federal government from using the state’s National Guard and Defense Forces for law enforcement, but a federal judge in California rejected the motion and scheduled a hearing three days later. On June 10, due to ongoing arrests, Los Angeles Mayor Karen Bass announced a curfew in a one-square-mile area of downtown. Shortly after, Spokane, the second-largest city in Washington State, also declared a curfew in response to protests against ICE…

A review of public statements and public opinion over the past week shows that this national dispute over the handling of illegal immigration reflects deep-rooted contradictions and power struggles, directly illustrating America’s political polarization and social fragmentation.

First, this is a clash of beliefs about the rights and wrongs and merits of immigration. The United States is a multiethnic federal nation built through immigration and sustained by continuous immigration that supports its development, prosperity, innovation, and vitality. Without massive immigration waves, America wouldn’t have come into being. Without long-term immigrant contributions, America wouldn’t be strong. Trump himself is a descendant of German immigrants. On June 5, when new German Chancellor Friedrich Merz made his first visit to the U.S., he gave Trump a symbolic gift: a framed German birth certificate of his grandfather Friedrich Trump from Karlstadt.

Neither Merz’s subtle persuasion nor Trump’s own immigrant heritage can mitigate the serious rift in U.S. society over immigration. Trump and other conservatives, represented by the Republican Party, who adhere to market economy principles and social Darwinism, believe that the U.S. has too low an immigration threshold, allowing large numbers of low-quality or illegal immigrants to enter. They argue this not only takes away Americans’ jobs and dilutes welfare benefits but also erodes loyalty to America and causes the continued decline of the social status and influence of white Americans. Therefore, in his second presidential campaign, Trump promised to expel all illegal immigrants if elected, to reclaim the jobs and benefits lost by Americans—especially white Americans.

However, opponents—especially Democrats who advocate for cultural diversity and universal human rights—argue that immigrants revitalize the U.S. economy. They provide abundant cheap labor that supports the service, transportation, construction, and manufacturing industries. Thus, immigrants should not be discriminated against, let alone expelled. Moreover, even if some immigrants entered illegally, many have since settled down, abide by the law, work hard, and even build families, becoming an inseparable part of American society. Forcibly deporting them harms not only the economy and industries but also causes humanitarian crises like broken families and displaced children.

Secondly, this is a partial game in the overall struggle between federal and local interests. The crisis first broke out in California, reflecting the misalignment and differing calculations between the federal government and this economically powerful state. Previously, trade-dependent California had clearly opposed Trump’s tariff policy; the immigration dispute is merely a continuation of existing conflicts and has intensified past antagonisms. California is the largest economic state in the U.S., contributing 14% of national GDP. Its economic development has long relied on various types of immigration, making it a stronghold long seen as a sanctuary for illegal immigrants. According to unofficial statistics, California has up to 2.3 million illegal immigrants—around 20% of the U.S. total and 5.9% of the state’s population, higher than the national average—with 74% of them being of working age. If large numbers of illegal immigrants are expelled, California businesses will face skyrocketing labor costs or labor shortages, potentially leading to economic stagnation or even decline. Therefore, California’s political and business elites have consistently resisted federal immigration enforcement measures. The trade war has already cost California over $40 billion and intensified conflicts between immigrant laborers and native workers. Expelling immigrants would undoubtedly worsen California’s economy.

California is both a major contributor of federal taxes and a major recipient of central fiscal transfers—mutual dependence is high. Yet, to break this “sanctuary fortress” of illegal immigrants and promote new immigration policies nationwide, the Trump administration plans to sharply cut federal funding to California starting June 13, citing its “anti-energy, criminal-coddling, and illegal immigrant-sheltering” policies. Governor Newsom emphasized that California pays over $80 billion annually to the federal government—much more than it receives—and threatened to stop sending federal taxes. Long-standing tensions between the federal government and California were further inflamed by Trump’s radical immigration policy and ultimately exploded due to federal agents’ forced arrests.

Thirdly, this is a power dispute between federal law enforcement and local autonomy. The United States is a federal state with a clear division of powers between central and local governments. In principle, the federal government is responsible for foreign affairs and national defense, and controls borders and ports, thus holding absolute jurisdiction over immigration. However, as the largest immigration-receiving state, California is known for emphasizing independence and autonomy, particularly opposing federal interference in immigration, environmental, and educational matters. In 2017, California passed the California Values Act, refusing to share immigration data with federal authorities and resisting federal deportation cooperation.

This conflict also represents a clash between sentiment and law, power and legality. Californians emotionally and logically reject the federal government’s inhumane, ahistorical, and rights-violating deportations. They further question the incomplete procedures, rough tactics, and broad targeting during enforcement. Notably, Newsom accused Trump of unconstitutionally deploying the National Guard without his request. The deployment of Marines was also considered a violation of the constitutional principle barring military involvement in civilian affairs. The California Attorney General’s office stated that using military force was “illegal,” stripped the state’s authority over its National Guard, and escalated tensions.

Fourthly, this is a contest of power between strongmen—Trump and Newsom. Both are charismatic leaders in this democratic society, though Trump is Republican and President, while Newsom is a Democratic heavyweight. Newsom comes from a prominent family, was twice mayor of San Francisco, and has served two terms as governor of California since 2018. He is a rising radical within the Democratic Party with vast experience and connections, and a strong contender for the 2028 presidential election. For the ambitious and relatively young Newsom, the White House is his next and only step. His confrontation with Trump is seen as a preview of the next presidential race.

Trump’s hardline style is well-known, and some analysts suggest Newsom is using Trump’s own methods to become “the next Trump.” The rivalry between these strongmen didn’t start today—it began during Trump’s first term. Since Trump returned to the White House, Newsom, representing a powerful autonomous state, has opposed him repeatedly. In January, when wildfires broke out in California, Trump blamed Newsom and threatened to cut federal disaster aid. Newsom retorted that Trump politicized climate issues. In April, Trump launched a tariff war; Newsom strongly condemned it and instructed the state attorney general to sue the federal government—launching the first legal salvo among U.S. states. In response to Trump’s threats of arrests, Newsom loudly challenged him, seemingly daring Trump to act—knowing that if arrested, he and the Democratic Party would gain widespread sympathy.

Fifthly, this is a prelude to the midterm election battle between Democrats and Republicans. Trump’s crackdown on illegal immigrants drew heavy criticism from Democratic lawmakers, as expected. California has long been a Democratic stronghold and key vote base—also the toughest challenge for Republicans. Trump ordered a crackdown on California to fulfill campaign promises, assert authority, suppress Democratic momentum, weaken their vote base, and build on his previous electoral dominance. This aims to secure Republican victories in the 2026 midterms and clear obstacles for the next presidential election.

Border security was one of Trump’s most popular issues in the 2024 election. His overwhelming victory suggests both he and the Republicans enjoy broad public support, and now must take decisive immigration action to keep campaign promises. They also need to give voters a reason to support the GOP again in the 2026 midterms and 2028 presidential race.

Whether bypassing the governor to deploy troops is legal will be debated along political lines. Observers will recall the 1957 Little Rock incident: when a segregationist governor used the National Guard to block Black students from entering school, President Eisenhower federalized the Guard and sent in the 101st Airborne Division to protect those students.

That moment became iconic in the U.S. civil rights movement; photos were once hung in American embassies as both reminder and boast. Over half a century later, the role of the National Guard and federal troops has again become central to America’s domestic crisis response—but political and societal divisions are arguably worse now than in the 1950s. America’s inclusiveness and confidence, openness and progress, now appear to have reversed course.

California’s sharp backlash made it the epicenter of this round of conflict, but that doesn’t mean all U.S. states share its immigration stance. Still, it is clearly a microcosm of American society. Trump’s aggressive immigration policy is a systematic project serving his “Make America Great Again” agenda. How it ends—only time will tell.

Opinion

European defense autonomy and Germany’s military role enter a turning point

Published

1 week ago

08/06/2025

Ma Xiaolin

On May 27, the 27 EU countries approved a massive plan to strengthen the European defense industry, signaling a shift in Europe’s defense policy from relying on the U.S.-led NATO system to pursuing independent self-reliance. This major shift will also be partially endorsed at the NATO summit to be held at the end of the month, where a significant increase in defense spending is expected to be approved. Meanwhile, Germany—holding dual status as both the EU’s political leader and economic engine—is, for the first time since World War II, deploying permanent troops overseas on a large scale. This marks its departure from a long-standing homeland defense stance to a role as a vanguard of European defense. These three major developments symbolize the disintegration of the Western bloc as the world has known it, indicate a restructuring of Europe’s security landscape, and raise long-term public concerns about Germany and Russia entering direct conflict and Europe falling into another large-scale war.

At the Brussels meeting on May 27, the European Council formally approved one of the EU’s most ambitious defense plans ever—”European Security Action”—which will officially take effect on May 29. According to the plan, the EU will raise €150 billion from financial markets and lend it to member states to support defense industry development, boost military equipment production, and improve and optimize overall EU military and strategic capabilities.

The €150 billion investment is only the first step and just part of a much broader rearmament strategy for the continent. The European Commission plans to eventually raise €800 billion over the next decade. Commission President Ursula von der Leyen described this as a “once-in-a-generation moment” and a decisive step toward Europe’s strategic autonomy.

Under the plan, member states can receive loan support when purchasing weapons through joint procurement procedures. To qualify, at least 65% of the project’s components must come from the EU, EU candidate or potential candidate countries, or countries with EU security defense agreements, including Norway, the UK, Moldova, Ukraine, Iceland, Switzerland, North Macedonia, Albania, and even Asian countries like Japan and South Korea.

This means non-EU manufacturers like the U.S., Turkey, and the UK can only participate to a limited extent—capped at 15% per project, or 35% under stricter conditions such as prior collaboration with EU contractors or pledging to switch to EU contractors within two years.

To reinforce EU technological sovereignty, a central agency will ensure that no third country can remotely control equipment produced in Europe. This restricts U.S. software firms from participating in EU drone programs developed under the plan. Additionally, to ensure economies of scale, interoperability, and prevent fragmentation of the European defense industrial base, member states must generally procure jointly with at least one other state to be eligible for loans—though exceptions exist for solo procurement.

The first tranche of €150 billion will prioritize artillery ammunition, missiles, drones, air defense systems, military transport aircraft, cyber defense, and AI. Analysts believe this focus addresses shortages and depletion in conventional weapons stockpiles caused by the Russia-Ukraine war, and supports Ukraine’s ongoing war effort.

The massive EU defense budget is seen as a necessary response to historic global upheaval—a major step toward strategic autonomy, diplomatic independence, and military self-reliance. It also reflects the widening rift between Europe and a U.S. increasingly driven by Trump-era isolationism. EU leaders believe the U.S. has abandoned Ukraine and even Europe through rapprochement with Russia. They no longer rely on America as a security umbrella, nor expect the U.S. to rescue Europe in the event of war as it did in WWI and WWII.

Meanwhile, NATO Secretary-General Rutte hopes that at the June 24–25 summit, members will agree to raise military spending to 3.5% of GDP by 2032, with another 1.5% for related expenditures—totaling 5% of GDP, twice the long-standing U.S. target of 2%. Excluding the U.S., Canada, and Turkey, the other 29 NATO members are in Europe—so this means Europe must significantly boost its defense budgets, preparing for a future where the U.S. may fully abandon NATO.

During Trump’s first term, the U.S. pressured some EU nations to hit 2% spending by threatening to dissolve NATO. Now, Trump 2.0 demands even more—doubling the ratio to 5%. After mediation by new Secretary-General Rutte, NATO foreign ministers on May 14 discussed and compromised on the “3.5% + 1.5%” plan: 3.5% for armed forces, 1.5% for war-related infrastructure. This would increase NATO Europe’s military spending from $476 billion in 2024 to $1.15 trillion in seven years. Germany alone would quadruple its defense budget from €52 billion to €215 billion.

The doubling of NATO military spending is clearly not solely the result of direct pressure from the Trump administration, but rather a consequence of the “European panic” triggered by the U.S. shifting the burden and working off its job. Although unwilling, NATO’s European partners are forced to face a chaotic reality and an uncertain future. Major changes in the world order are an undeniable historical process, the decline of American power and its waning willingness to lead are growing trends, and Russia’s geopolitical pressure is both immediate and enduring. These three factors have gradually turned Europe’s strategic autonomy, diplomatic independence, and defense self-reliance from ideals and slogans into conscious and voluntary strategic choices.

As the third barometer of Europe’s strengthening defense power, Germany—the strongest EU member and NATO European partner—has taken new historic steps in military construction, autonomy, and posture. It has boldly carried out the post-World War II breakthrough move of deploying a restructured armored unit permanently abroad for the first time.

On May 22, Germany’s Bundeswehr 45th Armored Brigade was officially deployed to Lithuania, a NATO ally on the Baltic Sea and one of the “frontline countries.” This brigade, specially formed for overseas combat, is a mechanized unit with a full strength of about 5,000 troops, expected to be fully deployed by 2027. It will be stationed at the Rukla Military Base near Lithuania’s capital, Vilnius—only 20 km from Belarus, a Russian ally. Lithuania borders Belarus and Russia’s Baltic exclave Kaliningrad, and the Suwałki Gap connecting Lithuania and Poland is considered the weakest point of NATO’s eastern defense.

German Chancellor Merz stated at the brigade’s inauguration ceremony that this step signifies the Bundeswehr “entering a new era” and that “we are taking NATO’s eastern flank defense into our own hands.” He reiterated Germany’s commitment to NATO’s collective defense and promised that Germany would assume responsibility and “not let European allies down.” Lithuanian President Nausėda called the move a “milestone” for NATO’s security architecture and for Europe. On the 26th, Merz publicly emphasized that Germany and its allies will no longer limit the range of weapons supplied to Ukraine. On the 28th, Merz promised visiting Ukrainian President Zelensky to help develop long-range missile systems.

In response to Germany stationing armored troops near its border, lifting missile range restrictions in line with the U.S., UK, and France, and assisting Ukraine in developing long-range missiles, Russian Foreign Minister Lavrov warned Germany on the 28th not to repeat the mistakes of the two World Wars. He stressed that “Germany’s direct involvement in the war is obvious; it is sliding down the same slope that led to its collapse twice in the last century.” Dmitry Medvedev, Vice Chairman of the Russian Security Council, stated that Germany’s equipment and experts are directly involved in operations against Russia. Therefore, Germany is effectively a participant in the Ukraine conflict and has once again become an enemy of Russia.

On March 21, Germany’s Federal Council approved a €500 billion fiscal package, marking a departure from its long-held “debt brake”-centered fiscal conservatism, allowing large-scale government borrowing to invest in defense and infrastructure. The German parliament amended the Basic Law to remove limits on defense and cybersecurity spending. The 2025 defense budget will increase by €100 billion, and total defense spending over the next decade may reach €1 trillion. This is aimed at modernizing the under-equipped Bundeswehr and significantly boosting Germany’s defense strength and combat readiness. According to Reuters, NATO will also ask Germany to add seven more brigades—about 40,000 troops—to its NATO contribution, aiming to raise the total force defending against Russia to 35 to 50 brigades. This alone will require Germany to quadruple its current air defense capacity.

After Taking Office, Merz Quickly Deployed Troops to NATO-Russia Confrontation Zones, Raising Historic Concerns

After taking office, Merz swiftly decided to station troops in the frontline areas where NATO confronts Russia and made bold statements such as allowing Ukraine to use Western weapons to attack Russian territory. These actions not only escalate the military confrontation between Germany, Europe, and even the NATO bloc with Russia, but also easily evoke painful memories of the two world wars—especially the tragic lessons of Germany and Russia waging war over control of the Gulf of Finland and the Baltic Sea.

Germany was the source of both World Wars. After World War II, its territory was fragmented, militarism and Nazi ideology were thoroughly eradicated, and the U.S. stationed heavy troops there for strategic containment. Germany was integrated into NATO’s collective defense system, which maintained European peace and security for decades. Based on the lessons and reflections from the two world wars, post-war Germany maintained a low level of armament, lacked an independent military-industrial production system, and pursued a pacifist foreign policy for a long time.

After the Cold War, as the U.S. continued its strategic retrenchment and shifted its military focus to the Asia-Pacific, and the UK exited the EU, Germany—growing stronger—became one of the EU’s dual political engines alongside France and the bloc’s unmatched economic powerhouse. Its status as a great power has continued to rise, as has its determination and role in promoting European strategic autonomy, diplomatic independence, and defense self-reliance. While Germany is unlikely to start another European war on its own, its increasing will to lead Europe toward defense independence by supporting Ukraine adds more tension and volatility to its relationship with Russia. If Merz’s government continues down this path, it could lead to open conflict with Russia. A German-Russian war would inevitably invoke NATO’s Article 5, dragging the entire alliance into a world war with Russia.

Professor Jiang Feng, a well-known expert on European and German issues, once said: “The concept of ‘reason through culture’ that emerged a few years ago was Europe’s contribution to international political thought, but it has now been nearly forgotten—replaced by the militarization of diplomacy and security policy. This militarization has become a central topic in European and German political debate… German diplomacy needs the courage to give Kant’s vision of ‘perpetual peace’ a new space in today’s era. Trying to create more security and peace through more weapons and larger military exercises may backfire.”

Facing the massive shocks brought by “Trump 2.0,” a desperate Europe appears to be resolutely marching toward a “post-American” era—toward a “European path” of strategic autonomy, diplomatic independence, and military self-reliance. Europe is preparing to give up the dividends of the long-enjoyed “peace under American rule,” aiming instead to shape a “New Continent” formed by a Europe-Russia bipolarity and restore a shattered Ukraine as part of a “New West.” However, this ambition is far from realistic, and a new, balanced solution must be sought.

Germany, the country that launched two world wars and suffered two national catastrophes, now stands at a new crossroads: should it insist on expanding NATO and maintain long-term strategic confrontation with Russia, or cut its losses and reach a comprehensive peace with Russia to jointly build a Europe of lasting peace, comprehensive security, and shared prosperity? This question not only tests the Merz government’s political will and strategic calculation but also its historical judgment and wisdom.