Top China military official disappears in latest purge under Xi Jinping amid rising factional politics

Australia Broadcast Center

17-06-2025

The disappearance of another high-ranking Chinese military official has demonstrated that no-one is indispensable to President Xi Jinping in achieving his goals.
Even those among his closest allies.
General He Weidong, China's second-ranking military official and co-vice chairman of the powerful Central Military Commission (CMC), has not been seen in public since March 11.
His name was also absent from the official list of attendees at the funeral of his former colleague, Xu Qiliang, who was also a co-vice chairman of the CMC.
With silence often treated as confirmation in China's highly choreographed political system, He's ongoing absence confirms his removal from power.
His disappearance follows a similar pattern of recent high-profile purges. Former foreign minister Qin Gang and former defence minister Li Shangfu also disappeared from public view before they were removed from their positions.
He's dismissal comes after a longstanding personal and professional relationship with Xi.
Xi and He both served in the local government of Fujian province in the 1990s and 2000s, with He promoted to "full general" — the highest military rank — in 2017 and eventually co-vice chairman in 2022.
It's a position that granted him more than just command of the military. It also made him a member of the elite Politburo — the top decision-making body of the Chinese Communist Party (CCP).
His sudden fall just three years into the role underscores the intensity of internal instability within the CCP.
Despite projecting a unified public image, the highest level of China's political system is a pressure cooker of competing ambitions, ideological divides, and factional loyalties.
Xi's leadership has been marked by a relentless consolidation of power and a sweeping anti-corruption campaign, but the frequent removal of his own appointees suggests cracks in the system he has built.
The timing of He's disappearance could be politically charged.
In August, the 4th Plenary Session of the 20th Central Committee is scheduled to take place — a key meeting where leadership direction is often recalibrated behind closed doors.
It is precisely during such sensitive periods that purges are most common, either as a pre-emptive strike or a signal of discipline.
The disappearance of He also exposes the fragility in China's defence system at a time when Beijing is expanding its military footprint and increasing its defence budget.
The People's Liberation Army (PLA) has been conducting joint air and naval exercises in the South China Sea, a move likely aimed at both foreign and domestic audiences.
On one hand, the drills serve as a warning to neighbouring countries and the United States.
On the other, they reinforce the narrative of a combat-ready PLA under Xi's direct control.
Military strength and political authority go hand in hand in China, and Xi's tightening grip on the armed forces is as much about addressing internal rot as external deterrence.
Purges at such moments are rarely about a single person.
Since 2023, at least three senior generals have been removed from their posts — including two defence ministers hand-picked by Xi — as part of a broader campaign targeting entrenched corruption and disloyalty within the ranks.
But in He's case, the removal may have been less about personal wrongdoing and more about managing factional rivalry and consolidating political control.
While no-one knows exactly why He was purged, his downfall serves as a warning that even those within Xi's own circle are not immune.
China's Communist Party may be a one-party state, but it is far from monolithic.
Since the Mao era, internal factions have formed around shared regional ties, ideological leanings, and personal loyalties.
Under Xi, many of the traditional groupings — such as the Youth League faction and the "princelings" (descendants of senior CCP members) — have weakened, but factionalism has not disappeared. Instead, it has adapted.
He, for instance, was associated with the so-called "Fujian clique", a group of military officials who served in the province of the same name when Xi was governor.
That connection, however, did not protect him.
Xi's promotions have not been driven solely by factional alignment, but by an emphasis on military preparedness and loyalty.
However, when factions grow too influential or individuals are perceived as potential threats — even loyal ones — they may be sidelined or purged by Xi to protect the party's image and his authority.
In that sense, purges are not just about corruption or disloyalty, but also about managing internal rivalries and reinforcing Xi's dominance.
Still, constant purging fosters distrust, undermines morale, and narrows the pool of reliable successors.
At the heart of all these manoeuvres lies a deeper question: who will succeed Xi?
Officially, no heir apparent has been named.
Laying out a succession plan in China's political system is like walking on eggshells — too much clarity can be just as dangerous as none at all.
The absence of a clear plan has fuelled factional rivalry, as competing blocs within the party manoeuvre to position their own candidate for future leadership.
But naming a successor too early is risky — once identified, that person can quickly become a political target for rival factions looking to block their rise.
Xi's real enemy may not be rival factions but the one-party system he leads.
As long as the CCP remains opaque and centralised, leadership transitions will always be fraught with uncertainty.
In such an environment, political rivals may not be able to directly challenge Xi, but they can target his allies and undermine his influence from the inside.
The disappearance of He is unlikely to be the last.
As elite competition intensifies ahead of future leadership changes, more purges are likely.
Xi may appear unassailable, but the hollowing out of his inner circle reveals the fragility of his position.
After all, power in China is centralised, but it is also precarious.
Ultimately, the downfall of a top general is not just a story about one man.
It is a window into the inner workings of a regime that has long prized loyalty over stability — and now relies increasingly on purges in place of transparency.
The costs of that strategy may not be fully visible yet. But the silence is.