The Chinese military technology industry is becoming a serious leader in Central Asia.
Chinese
military assertiveness in Asia has often been viewed as an effort to strike
balance, either with the United States, India, or other powers across the
region. But for decades, Chinese military might was not built on strictly
Chinese technological prowess. Since coming to power, Chinese President Xi
Jinping has engaged in various military reforms, including allowing civilian
companies to invest and modernize the military technology industry. Together
with a grand national strategy to create a hyper tech-based society, the
Chinese military technology industry is becoming a serious leader, especially
in the field of military-use telecommunication.
One region
that features prominently in this development is Central Asia. In Russia’s
backyard, but increasingly a Chinese security interest, Central Asia provides a
critical glance at the expansion of Beijing’s military assertiveness.
While
China’s military technology industry has arguably grown, Russia’s has put
little effort into innovating its military technology industry. The close to
nonexistent manufacturing sector for military parts in Russia continues to give China an upper
hand in producing traditional components as well as new military-use
telecommunication components. In 2015, 186 types of Russian military
equipment needed components from manufacturers in Ukraine. On top of all this, huge debt in
the Russian military industry will only make cheaper Chinese alternatives more and more
attractive.
Since 1999,
the Chinese PLA no longer supervises military technology companies, as part of
an effort to eliminate military-related corruption. The Chinese State Council
has therefore been able to directly exert a party-driven ideology in research,
production and sales of military equipment. Arm sales to Central Asia, then,
can be cast as a deliberate party decision to strategically position China,
among other plans, to balance Russian influence at the Chinese doorstep.
At the
breakup of the Soviet Union, Central Asia was actually one of the sources of
China’s military technology. In 1998, China bought
40 Shkval torpedoes from
Kazakhstan. Today, the Chinese military supplier industry is filling a market
gap for cheap equipment that fits the region’s existing gear.
Chinese
military equipment, after all, does not come with Chinese
characteristics.
The Soviet
origins of modern Chinese military equipment make Beijing’s kit conveniently
attractive for Central Asian states. Many arms are designed to fit universal Soviet ammunition, such as NORINCO’s VT-4 and
VN17.
In September 2018, Kazakhstan purchased Y-8 a
military plane, a copy of the
Antonov An-12, from China’s
CATIC. In January 2018, Turkmenistan purchased the QW-2
Vanguard 2, similar to the Russian 9K38 Igla, from China’s CASIC. In March 2016, a military exercise in
Turkmenistan revealed a purchase of the HQ-9 air defense system, similar to the
Russian S-300, from
China’s CPMIEC. The HQ-9 is also reportedly
present in
Uzbekistan.
Many
Chinese arm transfers to Central Asia are labelled as donations. Donations to
foreign armies are made behind closed doors, and are not regulated
under the 2002
Chinese regulation on arms exports.
As early
as October 2010, over $600,000r worth of equipment
was donated to the Tajik police. Another donation was made in January
2014 to both
the Tajik police, and the Kyrgyz police. The same company, China Jing’an
Import & Export Corporation, a leading Chinese company in policing
equipment, built a new anti-drug trafficking building in Kulyab in March 2016, a main southern town on
Tajikistan’s border with Afghanistan. In December 2018, at an undisclosed form of
transfer, Tajikistan showed off its VP11 patrol vehicles, made by China’s
NORINCO.
The clear
escalation of Chinese assertiveness in Central Asia indicates a breakdown of
the assumed traditional Sino-Russian economic-military division of labor in the
region. Russia has often been understood as the region’s security guarantor,
while China has increasingly played a critical economic role. Yet, even with a
de facto Russian green light, Chinese military technology providers struggled
for years to find their footing in Central Asia.
In Central
Asia, beyond outright donations, gas is often exchanged for military equipment.
The HQ-9 transfer to Uzbekistan and Turkmenistan is part of
Chinese payment for
natural gas via the Central Asia-China gas pipeline. Military equipment is
further entangled in the picture as a Chinese loan
was provided for Turkmenistan in a purchase of arms, to be repaid with natural gas, in January
2015.
In December 2017, Turkmen gas export to China fell
sharply. By February 2018, China’s domestic natural gas price
jumped 40 percent. Sino-Turkmen relations seem to have worsened. In January 2019, China put Turkmenistan on a
military blacklist, ceasing all future military exports to the country. Turkey
was recently also blacklisted for turning down
the HQ-9 deal.
For
Turkmenistan, in recent years selling gas to China was its only choice. China
financed Turkmenistan’s pipelines and other customers — like Russia and Iran —
were problematic for reasons of sanctions and politics. Since 2018, the Turkmen
have reportedly put up their prices in fear that the ongoing U.S.-China trade
war could result in sanctions against China, complicating its gas transfers
further. In 2019, Turkmenistan began selling gas to
Russia again. In August 2019, Turkmenistan negotiated a pipeline
to sell gas to the European Union during the Caspian Sea Economic Forum.
For Chinese
military technology suppliers, developing their position in Central Asia is not
an easy task. To maintain a presence, almost all have had to diversify into
civilian businesses such as pipelines.
NORINCO,
one of the seven Chinese companies with state approval to export arms, first
sold pipes and natural gas cylinders to Central Asia in 2007 and 2009, when the Central Asia-China gas
pipeline began construction. Operator on
the Kazakh KAM oil field, NORINCO also transferred technology to Kazakh Atobe Steel
Production to build the biggest Iron Ore Concentrator in Central Asia, in June 2017. Gathering intelligence while
doing business, Poly Tech, another military technology supplier with backing
from high profile politicians, such as Mao’s son-in-law, transferred a tire
factory operation to Uzbekistan in June 2017.
For years,
China has been using the Uyghur separatist discourse to induce a military
dimension at the Shanghai Cooperation Organisation (SCO). At the heart of
Chinese semantic obsession with the “three evils” — terrorism, separatism and
religious extremism — and the largest
military exercise between
China and Central Asia in 2014, is the population of 11 million Uyghurs in
Xinjiang. The same language that seeped into SCO discourse, is the same kind of
wording that justifies military donations and further military cooperation
between China and Central Asia.
Earlier
this year, a Washington
Post report highlighted
a potential Chinese military base in Tajikistan, alleging it has operated for
at least three years. The Chinese government has said little about such a base,
except that it built several buildings for anti-drug trafficking
efforts elsewhere along the Tajik-Afghan border. But increasing cooperation
with Afghanistan will continue to justify a Chinese presence manning
Tajikistan’s borders, especially in the far east.
Indeed,
with the collapse of a purported Sino-Russian economic-military division of
labor, a growing economic interest in Central Asia as a main corridor in the
Belt and Road Initiative, and an on-going anti-Uyghur separatist discourse,
Central Asia is an obvious choice for a Chinese foreign military base.
***Yau
Tsz Yan is a researcher on China in Central Asia affairs at the OSCE Academy in
Bishkek and a graduate from the University of Hong Kong. She can be reached on
Twitter @nivayautszyan