On June 1, 2025, the world witnessed a stark evolution in the nature of modern warfare. In a daring, unconventional strike, Ukraine’s Security Service (SBU) executed “Operation Spiderweb,” a stealth drone assault deep inside Russian territory. Using commercial trucks as Trojan Horses, the SBU smuggled 117 First Person View (FPV) drones across Russia’s borders. Concealed inside wooden crates with motorized hatches, the drones were launched near key Russian air bases, inflicting massive damage.
The strike caught Russian intelligence entirely off-guard. Despite 18 months of careful planning, Ukraine’s ability to stage an internal drone operation stunned the global security establishment. But the reverberations were perhaps felt most acutely in Washington, D.C., where analysts and lawmakers quickly turned their gaze westward — not towards Kyiv, but across the Pacific, toward Beijing.
Could China, they now ask, replicate Ukraine’s ingenuity — not on Russian soil, but within the continental United States itself?
American security experts are sounding alarms over what they see as a growing, underappreciated threat: Chinese cargo ships, particularly those operated by COSCO Shipping — a state-owned behemoth and logistical arm of Beijing — routinely dock in some of America’s busiest and most strategic seaports.
Despite being officially designated as a “Chinese military company” by the Department of Defense in January 2025, COSCO maintains access to key US ports, including those in Long Beach, Los Angeles, and Oakland. These ports are not only economic arteries for the United States but are also within proximity to critical military infrastructure, raising concerns about potential sabotage, espionage, or a surprise attack using drone-based tactics similar to Ukraine’s “Spiderweb.”
Retired Navy Commander Thomas Shugart, now a senior fellow at the Center for a New American Security, minced no words. “It is becoming borderline-insane,” he said, “that we routinely allow ships owned and operated by DoD-designated Chinese military companies to sit in our ports with thousands of containers onboard and under their control.”
The concern isn’t merely theoretical. The Port of Los Angeles, for example, sits just 25 miles from the Naval Weapons Station Seal Beach and less than 60 miles from Camp Pendleton — one of the largest Marine Corps bases in the U.S.
If Ukraine could stealthily insert drones into Russian territory using common logistics methods, why couldn’t China do the same via its massive cargo vessels?
“Operation Spiderweb” has become a case study in the potency of asymmetric warfare. Ukrainian operatives smuggled FPV drones — compact, nimble, and highly lethal — into Russia, hiding them in vehicles that traveled undetected across vast terrain. Each truck carried a concealed launch system, and drivers were allegedly unaware of the operation they were aiding.
When the drones were activated near Russian airfields, the results were devastating. Estimates suggest that Russia lost billions of dollars in aircraft and infrastructure. The attack compromised multiple bases and exposed the glaring vulnerabilities of Russia’s air defense grid.
Notably, several Russian military bloggers compared the operation to the infamous Pearl Harbor attack — not just in its element of surprise but in the psychological blow it delivered to a nation that believed it was safe behind its borders.
The idea that the United States — a nation that has long prided itself on layered homeland defense — could be similarly exposed is no longer confined to speculative fiction. “If Ukraine can do this to Russia,” one intelligence analyst told Newsweek, “China, with its industrial capacity and access to our ports, could do worse.”
But the threat from Chinese cargo vessels extends beyond what lies inside their containers. A 2024 Congressional investigation uncovered that ZPMC, a Chinese state-owned engineering firm, had installed potential surveillance equipment on cranes used across U.S. ports. These cranes — essential for unloading shipping containers — are reportedly fitted with unknown modems that may be used for unauthorized data collection or, worse, for remote disruption of port operations.
The investigation revealed that ZPMC had pressured American port authorities to grant remote access to these cranes, which are often located in the ports of California, Oregon, and Washington. This, experts warn, is a perfect intelligence-gathering infrastructure hiding in plain sight.
“While the cranes are physically on our soil,” a report noted, “the electronic data — movements, schedules, container inventory — may very well be in Chinese hands.”
Considering that 80% of the cargo cranes in U.S. ports are owned by ZPMC, the implications are chilling. Should tensions escalate between the U.S. and China, ports could be crippled at the push of a button — or used as launchpads for “Spiderweb-style” drone assaults.
Concerns are not limited to maritime infrastructure. Over the past decade, Chinese entities have been quietly acquiring large swaths of American farmland — some alarmingly close to critical U.S. military installations.
According to 2024 data from the U.S. Department of Agriculture, China holds about 349,442 acres of American agricultural land. While that represents less than 1% of foreign-held land, the location of some of these holdings has raised national security red flags.
Installations like MacDill Air Force Base in Tampa, Camp Pendleton in California, and Fort Liberty in North Carolina — home to elite U.S. special forces — are all within proximity to Chinese-owned lands.
“The potential for surveillance or even sabotage cannot be ignored,” warns former Pentagon intelligence officer Anne Sakowitz. “Even if drones aren’t launched, land-based monitoring devices could be planted to collect sensitive information about troop movements, equipment shipments, and training exercises.”
The risks are not merely speculative. In 2023, The Wall Street Journal reported that Chinese nationals had breached sensitive U.S. military facilities over 100 times in recent years — in some cases under the guise of tourism or accidental trespassing. Such incidents underscore a persistent and deliberate effort to probe U.S. defenses.
In response to growing concerns, the Trump administration has taken steps to curb China’s economic leverage over U.S. maritime logistics. In early 2025, it imposed steep tariffs — including a 145% tariff on Chinese goods — and levied port fees targeting COSCO Shipping.
The results were swift. In May 2025, the Port of Los Angeles reported a 35% decline in cargo volume, largely due to COSCO and other Chinese carriers canceling transits.
However, a temporary tariff truce signed last month brought a surge in shipping bookings, albeit short-lived. COSCO remains under pressure, and analysts say it is exploring alternative shipping routes to Latin America and Canada to bypass U.S. tariffs.
Yet, despite this apparent retreat, COSCO’s footprint in U.S. ports has not disappeared. Nor has the underlying risk.
“There is a belief that economic decoupling will automatically enhance national security,” says maritime security analyst Carla Morrell. “But unless the physical and digital infrastructure at our ports is overhauled — and until Chinese state actors are expelled from sensitive operations — the threat persists.”
If the Ukrainian drone attack laid bare Russia’s soft underbelly, American lawmakers now fear a similar awakening could one day come in the form of Chinese drones flying over Norfolk or San Diego — launched not from foreign bases, but from a ship docked at a U.S. port.
The Biden administration in 2023 proposed phasing out Chinese-made cranes, but under the Trump administration’s second term, progress has been slow and under-documented. Industry lobbyists, constrained federal budgets, and local port authority inertia have hampered a clean break from Chinese equipment.
Meanwhile, states have begun passing their own legislation restricting foreign land ownership near military facilities. Texas, Florida, and North Dakota, among others, have introduced laws aimed specifically at Chinese acquisitions.
But analysts warn that a patchwork of state laws is no substitute for a coordinated federal strategy.
What Operation Spiderweb proved is that surprise, stealth, and patience are often more valuable than brute force in the age of digital warfare. The 117 drones launched by Ukraine were not part of a conventional military operation but the product of hybrid war — part intelligence, part technology, and part misdirection.
China has already demonstrated proficiency in all three.
From crane espionage to land acquisition, from ship-to-port access to electronic infiltration, the tools of war are no longer tanks and missiles alone. They are cranes and modems. Shipping manifests and farmland deeds. Drones concealed in wooden crates, waiting patiently for a signal.
