In the wake of “Operation Sindoor”—a reported four-day military engagement between India and Pakistan from May 7 to May 10, 2025—serious cracks have emerged in the strategic defence partnership between Islamabad and Beijing. At the heart of the storm lies the alleged failure of Chinese-supplied HQ-9B and HQ-16 air defence systems to detect or intercept Indian precision strikes, notably involving the formidable BrahMos supersonic cruise missile.
Social media platforms in China, especially Weibo and defense-focused forums such as Tieba and Huanqiu, have become arenas of intense debate. Commentators are openly questioning not just the technical competence of Pakistan’s military operators but, more significantly, the capabilities and advertised performance of Chinese defence equipment itself. This unusual candour is rare in a tightly moderated information environment and reflects deepening unease over what is being perceived as a debacle for Chinese military technology.
The trigger for the conflict was a deadly terrorist attack in Pahalgam, Jammu and Kashmir, which left 26 civilians dead. In a swift and measured retaliation, India launched “Operation Sindoor”—a precision strike campaign reportedly targeting militant infrastructure and dual-use military facilities within Pakistani territory.
According to defence analysts and leaked reports circulating on social media and select online platforms, India used a combination of weapon systems:
- BrahMos cruise missiles, traveling at nearly Mach 3 with low radar cross-sections and terrain-hugging profiles;
- French-origin SCALP air-launched cruise missiles, with a range of over 500 km and stealth characteristics;
- Harop loitering munitions, known for their autonomous target-seeking and kamikaze-strike capabilities;
- And advanced jamming systems, aimed at neutralizing enemy radar and command infrastructure.
One of the most critical hits during the operation was on a Chinese-supplied YLC-8E anti-stealth radar system stationed in Chunian, Punjab. According to satellite imagery reviewed by regional think tanks, the radar site appeared to have been precisely targeted and destroyed, despite its advertised ability to detect stealth aircraft and cruise missiles.
Pakistan’s existing air defence grid, composed predominantly of Chinese systems like the HQ-9B and HQ-16, was reportedly unable to mount any credible defence during these strikes.
The HQ-9B, touted by Beijing as an analog to the American Patriot missile system, boasts a claimed range of up to 300 kilometers and the capability to intercept aircraft, cruise missiles, and tactical ballistic missiles. The HQ-16 (also marketed as LY-80 for export) is positioned as a medium-range system designed to counter low-altitude threats up to 40 kilometers.
Together, they form the backbone of Pakistan’s Comprehensive Layered Integrated Air Defence (CLIAD). The CLIAD was envisioned as a multi-tier shield against airborne threats, integrating sensors like the IBIS-150, YLC-8E, and coordination nodes with Chinese command-and-control systems.
But during “Operation Sindoor,” this elaborate network reportedly failed at almost every level. Several systems were either electronically jammed, physically destroyed, or simply outmaneuvered by the high-speed, low-altitude BrahMos missiles.
A widely circulated post on a Chinese military forum summed up the mood: “If BrahMos can dance through our ‘layered shield’ without being scratched, then what exactly are we selling to Pakistan?”
Initial responses from Chinese military equipment manufacturers, notably those affiliated with the China Aerospace Science and Industry Corporation (CASIC) and China Electronics Technology Group Corporation (CETC), attempted to contain the fallout. Statements circulated online emphasized that the HQ-9B and HQ-16 were not specifically engineered to intercept ultra-fast, terrain-skimming cruise missiles like the BrahMos.
This revelation sent shockwaves through Pakistani defence circles, where the systems had long been marketed as comprehensive solutions to advanced aerial threats. Pakistani officials, according to insider leaks, feel misled by earlier Chinese assurances. Formal complaints have reportedly been lodged, and top-level military dialogues between the two nations are underway.
Chinese netizens remain divided. Some believe operational failings—such as delayed radar cueing, poor crew training, or untested combat coordination—are at the root of the problem. Others argue that the systems themselves are simply outclassed in the current generation of high-speed, precision-guided warfare.
One Chinese commentator remarked: “What happened in Pakistan today may happen in China tomorrow. This should be a wake-up call.”
The reported failures have left Pakistan’s strategic community grappling with uncomfortable questions about its dependency on Chinese weaponry. Over the past two decades, Islamabad has poured an estimated $20 billion into Chinese military systems, including JF-17 fighter jets, J-10C multirole aircraft, Wing Loong II armed drones, PL-15 air-to-air missiles, and, crucially, the HQ series of air defences.
However, “Operation Sindoor” has illuminated some stark realities:
- Vulnerability to electronic warfare: Indian forces reportedly succeeded in jamming or deceiving Pakistan’s radar systems, especially the command nodes linked to air defence networks.
- Static deployment issues: The HQ-16’s requirement for separate guidance radar vehicles and its truck-mounted configuration may have compromised mobility and responsiveness in rugged or rapidly changing operational environments.
- Detection-to-intercept lag: The BrahMos, with its minimal reaction window due to high velocity and low signature, appears to have easily outpaced the kill chain timelines of both the HQ-9B and HQ-16.
A senior Pakistani official, quoted anonymously by an Islamabad-based defence journalist, summed up the sentiment: “We were sold a system that looks impressive on paper but disintegrates when tested in actual combat.”
“Operation Sindoor” is not the first time the BrahMos has exposed vulnerabilities in Pakistan’s air defences. In March 2022, an unarmed BrahMos missile mistakenly entered Pakistani airspace and traveled 124 kilometers without being intercepted. Although Pakistani authorities later claimed to have tracked the missile, no counteraction was taken—raising red flags about real-time responsiveness.
In retrospect, analysts now view the 2022 incident as a canary in the coal mine—a demonstration of systemic shortfalls that came fully into view during this year’s strikes.
Beyond the bilateral tensions, the fallout from Operation Sindoor threatens to reverberate across China’s broader military export ambitions.
China has positioned itself as a low-cost, no-strings-attached arms supplier to much of the Global South, particularly in Africa, the Middle East, and Southeast Asia. The HQ-9B, in particular, has been promoted as an attractive alternative to the U.S. Patriot and Russian S-300/400 systems.
Yet, in the post-Sindoor climate, potential buyers are likely to scrutinize performance claims more skeptically.
India’s use of Western and Israeli-origin systems—such as the SCALP missile and Harop drones—adds a layer of competitive embarrassment for Beijing. The ability of these systems to evade, neutralize, or outright destroy Chinese air defence infrastructure weakens China’s pitch as a reliable supplier of advanced integrated defence solutions.
In response to mounting frustration, Islamabad is reportedly exploring diversification of its defence procurement strategy. Turkish defence systems, particularly the SİPER 1 and SİPER 2 long-range SAMs, are receiving serious attention.
Developed by Turkey’s Roketsan and Aselsan, the SİPER systems are being marketed as having enhanced radar resilience, robust electronic counter-countermeasures (ECCM), and modular deployment architectures that make them more adaptable to mobile warfare.
Turkey’s increasing technological sophistication, coupled with its political alignment with Pakistan, makes it a likely partner in Islamabad’s search for alternatives.
A possible shift toward Turkish or even European defence platforms would signal a major strategic recalibration, weakening China’s monopoly in Pakistan’s defence market and giving rival exporters an opening in South Asia’s high-stakes arms race.
If the HQ-9B and HQ-16 have indeed failed under combat conditions, questions will inevitably arise about their efficacy within the People’s Liberation Army (PLA) itself. China reportedly deploys nearly 300 HQ-9 variants for its own homeland defence.
With tensions simmering in the Taiwan Strait, the South China Sea, and along the India-China border, Beijing cannot afford to field equipment that underperforms against next-generation threats.
As one Chinese military blogger ominously put it: “If we can’t protect our friends, can we protect ourselves?”
“Operation Sindoor” may fade from the headlines in weeks or months, but its consequences will likely reverberate for years. Pakistan is now confronting a hard truth: its overreliance on a single supplier for critical defence infrastructure has left it vulnerable in moments of crisis.
For China, the episode is a reputational setback with potentially global ramifications. At a time when Beijing is trying to position itself as a counterweight to Western defence ecosystems, the exposed flaws in its premier missile defence systems could prove costly.
