China's J‑10 Fighter Evolves Into a Pride‑Fueling Symbol of Home‑Made Aerospace Power and Global Influence
When the sleek, delta‑winged silhouette of China’s J‑10 streaked across a sky full of pink smoke in the September 3rd national parade, the colour‑coded plumes—fourteen in all, each a nod to the fourteen years of the People’s War of Resistance against Japan—signalled far more than a military display. They marked a collective moment of pride in a jet that Chinese officials and netizens alike have come to call a “争气机” – a “contention‑for‑pride” aircraft – and whose story encapsulates a turning point in the nation’s industrial, social and political trajectory.
9 September 2025
The J‑10’s journey began in the late 1980s, when Beijing recognised that its air force still leaned heavily on older Soviet‑derived platforms and on foreign licences that carried strategic risks. Under a veil of secrecy, engineers at the Chengdu Aircraft Industry Group were tasked with creating a truly indigenous third‑generation fighter, one that could break the monopoly Western powers held over advanced aeronautics. The project’s chief designer, Song Wencong, embodied the quiet determination that would become its hallmark. Having witnessed Japanese bombings as a child and later serving as an aircraft mechanic during the Korean War, Song carried a personal credo that resonated through the design office: “Don’t wait, don’t rely on foreigners; let the J‑10 flow with our own blood.” In a gesture that fused symbolism with personal conviction, he even changed his birthday to the date of the aircraft’s successful maiden flight in March 1998.
That inaugural flight was a watershed moment. For a nation that had spent decades reverse‑engineering Soviet MiGs and tinkering with imported engines, the J‑10’s lift off demonstrated a jump from “copy‑and‑follow” to “design‑and‑own.” The aircraft’s development timeline thereafter moved from secretive testing to public acknowledgement in December 2006, when Xinhua announced its commissioning into the People’s Liberation Army Air Force (PLAAF). Subsequent variants – the twin‑seat J‑10S for training, the upgraded J‑10B with a diverterless supersonic inlet (DSI) that reduced radar signature, and the far‑more sophisticated J‑10C – each added layers of capability. The J‑10C’s first flight in early 2015 introduced an active electronically scanned array (AESA) radar, a glass cockpit, and compatibility with the long‑range PL‑15 missile, closing the gap with contemporary Western fighters and earning praise from experts such as Shao Yongling for its strong anti‑jamming performance.
Beyond the airframe, the J‑10 sparked an entire ecosystem of high‑tech industry. The need for advanced composites, precision machining, avionics, and domestically produced engines forced China to flesh out a complete aviation supply chain that now spans materials science, digital manufacturing, and software development. Tens of thousands of engineers, designers and technicians cut their teeth on the J‑10 program, providing a talent pool that fed later projects such as the stealthy J‑20 and the carrier‑borne J‑15. The aircraft’s export version, the J‑10CE, has become a flagship for China’s burgeoning defence‑export market, offering potential customers a blend of cutting‑edge radar, low observable features and a proven weapons suite at a price point that undercuts Western competitors.
The social reverberations have been equally striking. Social media platforms, most notably Weibo, have been awash with the hashtag #为啥歼10是争气机# ("Why is the J‑10 a contention‑for‑pride machine?") since the parade’s colourful display. Posts celebrate the aircraft as a symbol of national self‑reliance, with users quoting Song’s maxim and lauding the “self‑sufficiency” that the J‑10 represents. For many young Chinese, the jet is more than a weapon; it is a career inspiration, a proof that home‑grown technology can stand shoulder‑to‑shoulder with foreign rivals. The narrative of a homegrown fighter that “lived up to expectations” fuels a rising tide of confidence, reinforcing the perception that China can secure its own future without leaning on external powers.
That confidence is not merely rhetorical. In the spring of 2025, reports emerged—though unverified—of Pakistan’s J‑10CE squadrons, equipped with PL‑15 missiles, achieving a six‑to‑zero tally against Indian aircraft during a border skirmish. Even if the details remain murky, the claim has become a rallying point for Chinese netizens, who cite it as evidence that the J‑10, despite being older than the fifth‑generation J‑20, still holds its own in high‑intensity combat. The story bolsters the aircraft’s “争气” reputation, countering foreign analysts who sometimes dismiss Chinese fighters as parade pieces.
Politically, the J‑10 has served as a tangible pillar of Beijing’s security strategy. As a multirole platform capable of air‑to‑air, air‑to‑ground and reconnaissance missions, it undergirds the PLAAF’s ability to defend sovereign airspace and project power within the broader Indo‑Pacific theatre. Its presence in the fleet sends a clear signal to regional actors and to Washington that China possesses an indigenous, modern air combat capability. Moreover, the export successes of the J‑10CE – with potential sales to nations such as Iran and interest from several African states – translate technical prowess into diplomatic leverage, giving Beijing a new lever in military‑diplomacy and contributing to a more multipolar arms market.
The broader legacy of the J‑10 is evident in the way subsequent Chinese fighters are framed. The J‑11, J‑15, J‑16, J‑20 and the upcoming J‑35 are routinely portrayed as the “descendants” of the J‑10’s pioneering spirit, each iteration described as “fiercer, faster, stronger.” This lineage underscores a narrative of relentless progress, a story that began with a modest delta wing in the 1990s and now stretches to stealthy, super‑cruise‑capable aircraft that challenge the West’s long‑held dominance.
In essence, the J‑10 has become a cultural touchstone as much as a combat platform. Its industrial impact reshaped China’s aerospace supply chain and cultivated a generation of engineers. Its social resonance ignited a wave of patriotic pride and fueled interest in STEM fields among the nation’s youth. Its political utility strengthened Beijing’s defence posture and expanded its influence on the world stage. As the aircraft continues to receive upgrades – from improved avionics to next‑generation weapons – and as the J‑10CE finds new homes abroad, the “争气机” moniker remains apt. The jet is not just a machine that flies; it is a machine that, against odds and foreign restrictions, has helped China claim a seat at the table of high‑tech military powers.