Opinion | China Discovers It Can't Be A Superpower With 'Commitment Issues'

For 12 days, the skies over Iran lit up like a furnace in hell as Israeli jets pounded the country's most sensitive military and nuclear sites. In the first 48 hours, Israel executed a systematic campaign that destroyed large sections of Iran's nuclear enrichment infrastructure and killed a cadre of senior Revolutionary Guard generals and scientists. Israeli pilots roamed Iranian airspace with near-total impunity, evading whatever little air defence Iran managed to muster. The barrage revealed an uncomfortable reality: that Iran's air force, cobbled together from ageing Cold War jets and patchwork upgrades, was essentially irrelevant in the face of Israeli technological superiority.

Exposed Claims

And yet, Iran was not entirely powerless. In retaliation, Tehran unleashed a wave of ballistic and cruise missiles, as well as swarms of drones, that struck Israeli cities and defence sites with unprecedented ferocity. While the Iron Dome and David's Sling systems intercepted many projectiles, enough broke through to inflict heavy damage and sow panic. Entire neighbourhoods in Tel Aviv and Haifa saw destruction on a scale Israel had not experienced since its wars with Egypt and Syria decades ago. Civilians sheltered in underground bunkers for days. The psychological shock was immense, reminding Israelis that their adversaries had evolved from ragtag militias to states with long-range precision strike capabilities.

Yet, the damage was never equal. Israel emerged with its military infrastructure largely intact, while Iran's strategic facilities lay in ruins. For Tehran's leadership, the episode was more than a military humiliation; it was an embarrassment that exposed the clerical regime's hollow claims of deterrence. The spectacle of Israeli aircraft crossing Iranian airspace at will undermined the mythology of Revolutionary Guard invincibility, punctured the regime's aura of competence and triggered rare public criticism even among loyalists. Iran's leaders now faced an uncomfortable reckoning over the vulnerability of their state in a region where aerial supremacy can decide the outcome of wars before ground forces ever mobilise.

Lessons In Realpolitik

The crisis also revealed the limits of Iran's alliances. For years, Tehran had cultivated a strategic partnership with Russia. Iran supplied Moscow with drones and munitions for the war in Ukraine, expecting at least symbolic reciprocity if its own sovereignty was violated. But when the missiles began to fall on Natanz and Esfahan, Moscow's response was conspicuously restrained. Russia condemned Israel's strikes in the language of international law, but there were no Russian radars deployed to warn of approaching Israeli formations, no shipments of modern air defence systems expedited to Iran's arsenal. Indeed, there was no visible Russian gesture that might have deterred further attacks. In private, Russian officials expressed sympathy but were unwilling to jeopardise their own complex ties with Israel, which has tolerated Russian operations in Syria in exchange for deconfliction arrangements. For Tehran, it was a bitter lesson in realpolitik.

China's response was similarly revealing. Beijing quickly condemned Israel's strikes as a violation of Iranian sovereignty and called for restraint, aligning itself rhetorically with Tehran and the Global South. At the United Nations, Chinese diplomats helped block a Western-backed resolution that would have exclusively censured Iran's retaliatory missile barrage. But here, too, there was no material support. No radar systems were activated to monitor Israeli air operations, no supplies of advanced anti-aircraft missiles dispatched, no intelligence-sharing to help Iran blunt the offensive. Chinese officials remained focused on evacuating their citizens and preserving the appearance of neutrality. For all of Beijing's rhetorical support, Tehran found itself effectively alone.

These episodes laid bare how isolated Iran truly was, despite years of cultivating great-power partnerships. Moscow and Beijing share Iran's interest in counterbalancing American influence. They see Tehran as a useful partner in their broader geopolitical contest with Washington. But when the stakes escalated to open confrontation with Israel and potential entanglement with the United States, both capitals preferred caution over solidarity. Iran's leadership has been forced to consider whether its foreign policy has overestimated the depth of its alliances.

The Treaty With China

Yet, China remains Iran's most important economic partner. In 2021, the two countries signed a landmark 25-year Comprehensive Strategic Partnership Agreement. Under this, China pledged up to $400 billion in investment across Iranian energy, infrastructure, technology and security sectors. In return, Iran committed to supplying a stable flow of heavily discounted oil, which would help fuel China's growth and diversify its energy imports. The agreement was hailed in Tehran as a major blow to Western sanctions and proof that Iran could thrive without the United States and Europe.

Over the past three years, Beijing and Tehran have signed dozens of memoranda of understanding to operationalise this cooperation. Chinese construction firms have helped modernise Iranian ports and railways, while Chinese telecommunications companies have expanded their footprint despite US pressure. The relationship has strategic depth, anchored in shared interests. China sees Iran as a crucial corridor in the Belt and Road Initiative and a partner in challenging Western dominance over global institutions. Iran, for its part, sees China as an economic lifeline and a counterweight to American sanctions.

Can't Keep Everyone Happy

But the war with Israel revealed the contradictions in this partnership. China's long-standing strategy has been to engage all sides in the Middle East - Israel, Iran, the Gulf monarchies - and maintain a posture of studied neutrality. This balancing act allows Beijing to secure energy supplies, participate in infrastructure development, and cultivate influence without taking on the liabilities of security commitments. 

Yet, as the conflict escalated, it became harder for China to appear neutral. Its repeated condemnations of Israel's strikes and its tacit endorsement of Iran's retaliatory claims of self-defence fuelled perceptions in Israel that Beijing was drifting closer to Tehran. Israeli policymakers began questioning whether China's investments in their ports and technology sectors were compatible with their national security interests.

For China, the challenge is profound. As a rising global power, Beijing aspires to be seen as an alternative to American leadership, offering a model of economic cooperation unburdened by ideological interference. Yet, regional actors increasingly expect more than trade. They want their partners to take clear positions in times of crisis and, if necessary, to underwrite security with real commitments. It is safe to conclude that the Iran-Israel war demonstrated that China's diplomatic architecture is not yet built to sustain that role.

Iran's Ageing Military

Tehran, meanwhile, has concluded that while neither Moscow nor Beijing will fight its battles, China remains the best bet for reconstituting its degraded military capabilities. It's being reported widely that in the aftermath of the strikes, Iranian officials have accelerated negotiations with Chinese defence manufacturers to purchase the Chengdu J-10C "Vigorous Dragon," an advanced 4.5-generation multirole fighter jet. 

Iran's air force is a relic of the Cold War, built around ageing F-4s and F-14s procured before the 1979 revolution. Many of these aircraft are no longer airworthy, and the few MiG-29s in service are no match for Israel's F-35s. The J-10C, equipped with modern avionics, active electronically scanned array radar, and PL-15 long-range missiles, offers a chance to narrow the gap.

This procurement effort has been years in the making. Iran first explored acquiring the J-10C in 2015, but the deal fell through because China insisted on payment in foreign currency rather than oil. Subsequent UN arms embargoes made procurement impossible. The 2021 agreement reopened the possibility, but Tehran continued to prioritise Russian hardware, notably the Su-35. Yet, delays in Russian deliveries, compounded by Moscow's preoccupation with Ukraine, have pushed Iran back toward Chinese suppliers. With just four Su-35s delivered out of a promised fifty, Tehran is now betting that China's defence industry can rearm it faster and with fewer complications.

This effort to rebuild air defence and airpower capabilities marks a strategic pivot for Iran. The clerical regime recognises that its reliance on missiles and proxies is insufficient against a technologically superior adversary. If the war with Israel proved anything, it is that air dominance can decapitate critical infrastructure in a matter of hours. Iranian officials have been candid in admitting that no amount of propaganda can hide this vulnerability from their own population. Procuring the J-10C and expanding indigenous missile development are now at the centre of Iran's defence modernisation.

A Familiar Dilemma

Whether these steps can close the gap remains uncertain. Israel retains an overwhelming advantage in training, battlefield integration and real-time intelligence from its American ally. But Iran's determination to avoid a repeat of the recent humiliation is clear. Chinese suppliers, flush with production capacity and eager to grow their market share, will likely oblige.

For Beijing, this poses a familiar dilemma. Supporting Iran's rearmament may mean further alienating Israel and inviting deeper scrutiny from Washington. But stepping back would jeopardise the $400-billion partnership that underpins China's West Asia ambitions. As the dust settles over Iran's shattered facilities, Beijing faces the question it has long tried to avoid: can it remain everyone's partner without becoming someone's adversary?

The Iran-Israel war has not only altered the military balance in the region but has also tested the assumptions that underlie China's engagement. It forced Iran to reckon with its isolation, Russia to reveal its caution and China to confront the costs of neutrality. In the years ahead, West Asia will likely see a more heavily armed Iran, a more wary Israel and a China learning that great-power influence comes with risks that cannot always be deferred.

(Syed Zubair Ahmed is a London-based senior Indian journalist with three decades of experience with the Western media)

Disclaimer: These are the personal opinions of the author