The Invisible Dragon: When a Chinese Stealth Fighter Skims Over Taiwan Without Being Detected

A fifth-generation aircraft

The J-20 Mighty Dragon is the flagship of the Chinese military aviation program. With a wingspan of 13 meters and a maximum speed of Mach 2.0, this twin-engine aircraft is designed for air superiority and precision strikes. Its canard-delta configuration and radar-absorbing materials significantly reduce its radar signature. Its armament is fully internalized to maintain stealth: PL-15 active radar-guided missiles with a range exceeding 200 kilometers, and PL-10 short-range missiles. Its JLJ-5 AESA radar and electro-optical targeting system provide it with exceptional situational awareness. Recently, Chinese breakthroughs in silicon carbide semiconductors are reported to have tripled the detection range of its radar.

Despite these specifications, the J-20 has weaknesses. The first models used less powerful Russian AL-31F engines. China has developed the WS-10C and is working on the WS-15 to achieve supercruise capability. Another distinctive feature: the J-20 is the only stealth fighter without an internal cannon, making it vulnerable in dogfights. U.S. General Kenneth Wilsbach said he was “relatively impressed by the command and control associated with the J-20,” while noting that E-3 Sentry aircraft would be “insufficient for timely detection.” However, the USAF Chief of Staff tempered his remarks by stating that he would not “lose any sleep” over it. More than 300 units have been built—the threat is as much quantitative as it is qualitative.

What strikes me about the J-20 is not so much its performance as what it represents. Twenty years ago, the idea that any country other than the United States could produce an operational stealth fighter seemed like science fiction. Today, China has hundreds of them in service. It’s a lesson in humility. Underestimating an adversary has never been a winning strategy.

A Concentration of Critical Facilities

The Pingtung base is not just any facility. It is Taiwan’s largest air base and a pillar of its defense. The county is also home to the Jiupeng base, the main missile research and testing center—the local equivalent of White Sands—as well as the Dahanshan early-warning radar station. If a J-20 was indeed able to approach undetected, the implications are staggering: China would possess the capability to strike critical targets before Taipei has time to react. Reducing reaction times is one of the decisive advantages sought by any modern air force.

Former Lieutenant General Chang Yen-ting made a chilling admission during a television broadcast: Taiwan does not have quantum radar to detect stealth aircraft. “We only have Doppler radars, which cannot detect stealth aircraft. As for the J-20, we cannot detect it,” he stated. If the ministry had been able to identify any J-20s, “it would have announced it.” Faced with this vulnerability, Taiwan has ordered IRST (Infrared Search and Track) systems for its F-16Vs—but Chinese experts put this into perspective: IRST can only lock onto targets at close range, whereas the J-20 can detect an F-16 from much farther away.

General Chang’s admissions struck me as brutally honest. Here is a former high-ranking officer publicly admitting that his country is blind to its most feared threat. Is this courageous realism or an admission of anticipated defeat? I lean toward the former. Recognizing a problem is the first step toward solving it. But time is running out.

The Skeptics’ Arguments

Taiwanese lawmaker Wang Ting-yu of the Democratic Progressive Party has challenged China’s claims. According to him, the video was filmed in Guangdong Province, China, where the landscape resembles that of Pingtung. If true, the video would be nothing more than a propaganda stunt. Other experts point out inconsistencies: why hasn’t Beijing released more explicit footage clearly showing identifiable features? One theory: China is keeping the true capabilities of its fighter jet a mystery. A Chinese analyst noted: “These secrets should be saved for a future battle. Revealing its capabilities during exercises is pointless.” ” The fact that Beijing released this video could, paradoxically, suggest that the claim is exaggerated.

The arguments of those who believe it

This isn’t the first time China has claimed that its J-20s operated near Taiwan without being detected. In 2023, Captain Yang Juncheng claimed to have flown over the entire island. “I could see the entire coastline and the mountains. I was proud,” he told CCTV. The Taiwanese ministry never confirmed detecting that flight. Tellingly, Taiwan regularly publishes detailed reports on Chinese incursions—J-16s, J-10s, H-6s, drones—but the J-20 is consistently absent. Either Taipei detects the J-20s but does not disclose the information, or the island is unable to track them. Its silence speaks volumes: confirming it would be risky; denying it would be a lie.

The truth may lie somewhere in between. Can the J-20 fly all the way to Pingtung without being systematically detected? Probably not. But can it exploit blind spots, slipping through corridors with less surveillance? That seems plausible to me. Perhaps that is the real danger. A stealth fighter doesn’t need to be completely invisible—it just needs to be discreet enough to sow doubt.

A Meticulously Planned Strategy

The video is part of an information warfare strategy perfected by Beijing. It doesn’t matter whether the J-20 actually flew over Pingtung—what matters is that millions of people believe it’s possible. This perception undermines the confidence of the Taiwanese public, forces Taipei to devote resources to investigating the matter, and boosts the morale of Chinese forces. A poster released before the maneuvers showed satellite images of Taiwanese bases with the caption: “How can you even consider independence?” The Eastern Theater Command orchestrated its messaging to create a sense of encirclement and inevitability.

The concrete consequences are already evident. Taiwan must invest considerable resources to analyze the incident, determine whether any blind spots exist, and take corrective measures. Analysts call this “gray-zone coercion”—actions that fall short of the threshold of war but gradually erode the adversary’s position. The psychological impact on the Taiwanese population is harder to measure but potentially devastating. China is counting on this psychological fatigue to weaken the island’s resolve.

How can one defend against images? Against doubts injected drop by drop into the collective consciousness? China has realized that the real battle is fought in people’s minds. Democracies are structurally at a disadvantage: we cannot respond with propaganda. So what remains? Truth, media literacy, and civic resilience. These are imperfect weapons against a state-run disinformation machine. But they are the only ones we have.

Rethinking Surveillance Architecture

If a fifth-generation fighter jet can approach strategic facilities without being detected, the entire defense architecture must be reimagined. Conventional radars struggle to detect low-signature aircraft. Several approaches are being explored: passive radars that analyze disturbances in ambient signals (TV, FM radio); distributed sensor networks whose redundancy ensures continuity even if some components are destroyed; and IRST systems that exploit thermal signatures. President Lai Ching-te unveiled the “T-Dome” concept, integrating NASAMS, Patriot PAC-3, and Tien Kung interceptors—but even sophisticated systems have their limits when facing stealth fighters.

Time is working against Taiwan. Estimates suggest that Xi Jinping wants the PLA to be ready to invade by 2027. That leaves barely two years to modernize defenses. The island is also relying on the “hedgehog strategy”—making any invasion so costly that Beijing will abandon the idea: mobile anti-ship missiles, sea mines, and kamikaze drones. Under this logic, even if a J-20 penetrates Taiwan’s airspace, it must still carry out its mission against dispersed, camouflaged, and fortified targets.

I am reminded of Sun Tzu: “Know your enemy and know yourself; in a hundred battles you will never be in danger.” Does Taiwan truly understand its own vulnerabilities? The Pingtung incident suggests not. To know oneself is to acknowledge one’s weaknesses without succumbing to despair. It is to face reality head-on and take action.

Washington: Between Concern and Downplaying

The Pentagon has described China’s military activities as actions that “unnecessarily escalate tensions.” But President Donald Trump appeared to downplay the situation. “I have an excellent relationship with President Xi. I don’t think he’s going to do that,” he said. This stance contrasts sharply with military assessments. Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth had warned: “Every day, the Chinese military harasses Taiwan. These activities are accompanied by massive investments in nuclear weapons, hypersonic weapons, and amphibious assault capabilities.” General Charles Flynn had stated that “the threat of an invasion is no longer distant or theoretical.”

The United Kingdom condemned the exercises. More significantly, Secretary of State Marco Rubio, Japanese Minister Takeshi Iwaya, and South Korean Minister Cho Tae-yul emphasized “the importance of peace in the strait as an indispensable factor for international security.” Japan finds itself in a delicate position: its statements regarding a possible military intervention have angered Beijing. Justice Mission 2025 is the first exercise to explicitly mention the objective of “deterring external intervention forces”—a direct message to Tokyo.

What strikes me is the contrast between rhetoric and action. Everyone condemns, everyone calls for restraint. But what are we actually doing? I sometimes feel as though we’re watching a slow-motion drama with a predetermined ending, hoping that something will interrupt its course. Deterrence can work—if it’s credible. But to be credible, you have to be prepared to use it. Are we really prepared to risk a war with China over Taiwan?

J-36 and J-XDS — the successors are here

While the world is still debating the capabilities of the J-20, China is already working on the next generation. In December 2024, two sixth-generation fighter prototypes were photographed—the J-36 and the mysterious J-XDS—at a secret base near Lop Nur. The J-36, with a wingspan of about 20 meters and powered by three engines—an unprecedented configuration for a tactical fighter—suggests exceptional performance. The United States is working on the NGAD, but with delays. Boeing’s F-47 is not expected to fly before 2028. China, which had been decades behind, now appears to be closing the gap at a dizzying pace.

This emergence illustrates an uncomfortable reality: the arms race is accelerating. Beijing now produces more warships than the United States each year; it could soon do the same with stealth fighters. According to some estimates, the PLAAF could field more than 500 fifth- and sixth-generation fighters by 2030. For Taiwan, the only option is to rely on asymmetric warfare: drones, loitering munitions, and autonomous swarms capable of inflicting unacceptable losses even if interceptors are neutralized.

When I saw the first images of the J-36, I felt both fascination and concern. Fascination at the engineering genius—whatever our opinion of Beijing may be, we must acknowledge the feat. Concern because this technology will be directed against people who simply want to live in peace. There is something absurd about the arms race. But as long as authoritarian powers exist, democracies will have no choice.

A Promising but Immature Technology

Some are pinning their hopes on quantum radar. Using quantum entanglement, it splits a photon into two “twin” particles, sends one toward the target, and retains the other. When the sent particle interacts with an object—even a stealthy one—the effect is reflected in its twin. In theory, this method could detect aircraft invisible to traditional radar, while also being resistant to jamming. China claims to have tested a quantum radar capable of detecting targets 100 kilometers away. If true, Beijing would be working simultaneously on stealth fighters and on ways to detect them.

However, quantum radar remains an immature technology. Decoherence—the degradation of quantum states over long distances—limits its range. Functional prototypes have demonstrated advantages only at ranges of a few meters. Most experts estimate that an operational quantum radar is still fifteen to twenty years away. In the meantime, defense forces must make do with existing technologies: low-frequency VHF radars, multistatic networks, and IRST systems. Combining these can create a more robust defensive network.

Quantum radar reminds me of nuclear fusion—which has been “twenty years away” for decades. You can’t build a strategy on hypothetical technologies. You have to work with what you have. And what we have are radars that don’t detect stealth fighters very well, F-16s at a disadvantage against the J-20, and a dependence on an American ally whose commitment remains ambiguous.

Training, Morale, and Social Cohesion

In debates over comparative capabilities, the human factor is often overlooked. RoCAF pilots are among the most experienced in the world when it comes to confronting Chinese aircraft—they take off almost daily to intercept intruders. This experience builds irreplaceable skills. J-20 pilots, despite their training, have never been tested in combat. The issue of morale is also crucial: Taiwanese forces are defending their homes, their families, and their way of life. Ukraine has demonstrated how forces that are initially outmatched can show astonishing resilience.

The cohesion of Taiwanese society is a subject of debate. Polls show that the majority of Taiwanese identify as Taiwanese—an identity reinforced by decades of democracy. Rejection of annexation is nearly unanimous. But political divisions between the DPP and the KMT could weaken the collective response. The Justice Mission 2025 exercises are putting this cohesion to the test. Life on the island largely continues as usual—a sign of resilience or denial? Probably a bit of both.

I visited Taiwan a few years ago. What struck me was how normal life seemed. Couples by the river, students laughing in the streets, night markets bursting with energy. You could almost forget that just a few hundred kilometers away, an authoritarian power was biding its time. This sense of normalcy is both admirable and frightening. I hope this war never happens. But if it does, the Taiwanese deserve to be prepared.

Conflict or Status Quo?

In a conflict scenario, Beijing would begin with a massive campaign of strikes targeting air defenses and command infrastructure. The J-20s would play a central role, penetrating defenses to designate targets and eliminate detection systems. The goal: to achieve air superiority within a few hours. If Chinese fighters can operate with impunity—as the Pingtung incident suggests—this response capability would be compromised. The F-16Vs could be destroyed on the ground before they even take off.

However, a conflict remains unlikely in the short term. An amphibious invasion would be of unprecedented complexity, requiring hundreds of thousands of troops to cross a 180-kilometer-wide strait. The economic cost would be astronomical—Taiwan produces more than 90% of the world’s advanced semiconductors. U.S. intervention remains a possibility that Beijing cannot rule out. U.S. bases in Japan and South Korea host considerable military forces. A Sino-American conflict would be devastating for both sides. That is why the status quo is likely to persist—maneuvers aimed less at preparing for an invasion than at wearing down resistance and deterring intervention.

I refuse to give in to fatalism. Deterrence works—it worked for decades during the Cold War. What matters is will. Taiwan’s will to defend itself. The allies’ will to support that defense. If that will exists, the stealth dragon will remain an abstract threat. If it wanes… then anything becomes possible. It’s in our hands.

An image that speaks volumes

A few seconds of video. A fighter jet against a backdrop of mountains. A radar silence where an alarm should be sounding. The alleged incident involving the J-20 flying over Pingtung crystallizes all the issues at stake in the Taiwan Strait. Whether real or fake, this footage reveals the vulnerabilities of a democratic island facing an authoritarian neighbor. It illustrates China’s technological leap forward and the sophistication of modern information warfare. And it raises a question that humanity would prefer to avoid: What are we willing to do to defend the freedom of others?

This incident must serve as a wake-up call. For Taiwan, which must accelerate the modernization of its defenses. For the United States, which must clarify its commitment. For regional allies and Europe, which can no longer ignore what is happening. Security is indivisible. What threatens Taiwan today could threaten other democracies tomorrow. The invisible dragon has shown its claws. Perhaps it was only feigning an attack. Perhaps it has truly breached the defenses. The truth matters less than the dynamic it illustrates: a rising power is testing the limits, a free island is resisting, and the world is watching. Hope is not enough. We must act, prepare, and deter. For when the dragon decides to strike for real, it will be too late to find ourselves unprepared.

As I write these lines, my thoughts turn to the twenty-three million Taiwanese who wake up every morning not knowing if today will be the day everything changes. To the pilots who take off to intercept intruders, knowing that every mission could be their last. There is something profoundly unjust about this situation—a vibrant democracy threatened with absorption by a regime that denies basic freedoms. But history is rarely fair. What matters is what we make of it. Taiwan deserves our attention, our support, and our solidarity. Not because it is strategically useful—though it is—but because it is the right thing to do. And sometimes, in a world of cynical calculations, doing what is right is the only compass that matters.