On Sept. 3, 2025, Beijing brought soldiers, missiles, stealth fighters, and brass bands into Tiananmen Square for its most lavish Victory Day parade to date. Officially, it was to mark the 80th anniversary of Japan’s defeat in World War II. In fact, it was something else: a show staged to conceal China’s growing weakness.
The Communist Party has always depended on prosperity as its warranty. Growth rates were the oxygen of legitimacy; employment and increasing incomes purchased silence from a generation. But this deal is unraveling. China’s economy is slowing down, the real estate sector is collapsing, local governments are in debt crisis, and youth unemployment has hit record highs. The illusion of limitless opportunity is disappearing, giving way to frustration and despair. Xi Jinping can no longer provide prosperity as evidence of his leadership—so he resorts to nationalism and militaristic spectacle.
The Victory Day parade was a diversion, cleverly orchestrated to divert the attention of the people from economic gloom. Hypersonic missiles, AI-enabled drones, and twin-seat stealth fighter J-20S were wheeled out not in the name of remembrance, but to project an image of power. “We may stumble at home,” the message suggested, “but overseas we are unconquerable.” The reality, however, was insecurity masquerading as victory.
Even Xi’s chosen guests reflected this need for theater. Vladimir Putin, wounded by his failing war in Ukraine, and Kim Jong-un, presiding over a stagnant hermit kingdom, were not allies of strength but symbols of survival. Their presence bolstered the image of an “authoritarian front,” yet their fragility mirrors China’s own. Beijing, once the confident hub of global growth, now leans on spectacle and association to cover the cracks spreading beneath its surface.
Why now? Because the gaps are growing. Common people are losing hope in the future. Factories stand idle, investors are leaving, and the Party has questions it can’t answer. Nationalism, thus, is the new currency of control. The CCP rewrites history to present itself as the great WWII winner, then extrapolates that myth into the future to assert its emergence as fate. The Victory Day procession was less about the past and more about legitimizing the future—one in which Beijing requires obedience, even if prosperity is no longer secure.
The threat is not just to China’s citizens. A desperate regime at home can tend to be more belligerent outside. Tibet, Xinjiang, Taiwan, the South China Sea, and the Himalayan border with India—all loom in the shadow of Beijing’s try to quell economic despair with fire of nationalism. The more thunderous the drums of the parade, the more fear they attempt to quell.
Victory Day 2025 must not be interpreted as a celebration of peace but rather an indication of Beijing’s desperation. China is most perilous not when it is rising, but when it perceives its rise to be stumbling. A receding power that will not acknowledge decline becomes careless. The parade was a steel mask covering an apprehensive face, and the world needs to be cautious of what such unease can do.
