China’s Military Parades Broadcast a Dual Message of Peaceful Intent and Unyielding Power】

At the centre of every procession stands President Xi Jinping, who, as General Secretary of the Communist Party, President of the People’s Republic and Chairman of the Central Military Commission, embodies the state’s ultimate authority over the People’s Liberation Army (PLA). His inspection of troops, delivery of a prepared speech and presence on the reviewing stand are designed not only to demonstrate personal command but also to underscore the strategic direction of China’s defence modernisation.

The parade’s primary message, according to a steady stream of official briefings and social‑media commentary, is one of “peace and international justice.” State‑run broadcasters repeatedly frame the spectacle as a celebration of China’s historic resolve to avoid war – a narrative reinforced by slogans such as “China has never started a war, never encroached on another country’s land.” By linking the display of the latest aircraft, naval vessels and next‑generation missiles to a pledge to safeguard a “fair and just” global order, Beijing attempts to cast its growing might as a contribution to stability rather than a provocation.

That diplomatic overture is paired with a parallel, more direct assertion of sovereignty. Images of the PLA marching in perfect formation, their banners emblazoned with the words “defend national sovereignty and territorial integrity,” are meant to convey an unshakable resolve to protect the nation’s borders – a point underscored by explicit references to the “firm will” to guard disputed areas such as Taiwan, the South China Sea and the East China Sea. Analysts note that the parade’s timing, often on anniversaries of historic victories or national milestones, amplifies this message: the 80th‑anniversary commemoration of the anti‑Japanese war, for example, reminded audiences that China’s past confrontations with foreign aggression remain part of its present security calculus.

The impact of the display reaches beyond political signalling. By highlighting the PLA’s transition to a “blue‑water” force – emphasising naval and air power – the parade sends ripples through the defence‑industry sector and technology firms involved in indigenous weapons development. State‑run media reported that the “defence strength plus independently developed advanced equipment” underscores China’s “innovative breakthroughs and confidence” in military technology, a narrative that, in turn, aims to attract foreign investors to the country’s high‑tech supply chains while reassuring domestic markets of continuous state support.

Social media platforms such as Weibo have amplified the internal resonance of the parades. A hashtag analysing the event – #中国阅兵向国际传递什么信息# – generated a flood of posts that blended patriotism with historical remembrance. Users quoted phrases like “love of peace, integrated into the blood of the Chinese nation” and “we are not afraid of death, only of being forgotten,” reflecting a collective urge to couple national pride with a moral claim to global harmony. Others focused on “countering negative narratives,” especially those perceived to emanate from Japan, accusing external actors of “distorting history” and “concealing facts.” The overall mood was one of confidence: the public celebrated the parade as proof of a rising, yet responsibly restrained, China.

From an international perspective, the audience of guests at the Tiananmen viewing stand also conveys meaning. The presence of leaders from Russia, North Korea and other strategic partners underscores Beijing’s diplomatic reach and offers implicit validation of its security agenda. Meanwhile, the attendance of United Nations representatives, albeit limited, is leveraged by the Chinese government to project an image of multilateral engagement, reinforcing the claim that “a strong China contributes to global peace.”

The parade, however, does not go un‑questioned abroad. Western analysts and regional neighbours watch the same glossy videos of indigenously produced drones, hypersonic missiles and stealth fighters and voice concerns over an accelerating arms race in the Indo‑Pacific. The dual narrative – peace‑keeping in principle, military deterrence in practice – creates a diplomatic tightrope. Critics argue that the display of “increasingly robust capabilities” could prompt a “response escalation” from other powers, especially if Beijing’s statements on “defending development interests” are read as a willingness to use strength to protect overseas economic projects.

Within China’s borders, the parade is also a tool of domestic consolidation. By staging a high‑visibility event that merges military precision with historic tribute, the state seeks to fortify national cohesion and legitimate the ruling Communist Party’s hold on power. The inclusion of veterans who received commemorative medals and the repeated reminder that “we must remember the heroes” ties present achievements to the sacrifices of the past, forging a continuity that legitimises current policy choices, from the pivot toward a “military‑and‑economic superpower” approach to the re‑orientation of Taiwan policy from “traditional united‑front work” to a posture of “strength‑based persuasion.”

In sum, China’s military parades operate as a carefully curated diplomatic instrument. They broadcast a narrative of a “peace‑loving” nation armed with the means to protect its “sovereign rights” and “development interests,” aim to galvanise domestic patriotism while reassuring—if cautiously—the global community of China’s willingness to contribute to international stability. The performance is a reminder that the spectacle of marching troops, soaring aircraft and glittering weaponry is never purely ceremonial; each step, each salute, each line of Chinese characters on a banner is a calculated transmission of information to a world that watches, interprets, and responds.