On 3 September, Beijing’s vast Tiananmen Square will once again be the setting for one of the most tightly choreographed military spectacles in the world. But this year, the parade carries an added layer of geopolitical theater.
North Korea’s leader Kim Jong Un, who has rarely stepped onto the international stage since taking power more than a decade ago, will attend the event, China’s foreign ministry confirmed. The parade will mark the 80th anniversary of China’s war of resistance against Japan and the close of World War II. Alongside Kim, Russia’s President Vladimir Putin is expected, joining 26 other heads of state.
The image of Kim standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Putin and China’s Xi Jinping will be more than just a photo op. It is a calculated piece of diplomatic symbolism—one that underscores the deepening fault lines in global politics, the shifting alliances across Asia, and the strategic maneuvering of China as it seeks to position itself as the indispensable power in a divided world.
China’s “Victory Day” parades are designed as much for domestic consumption as they are for the world’s cameras. In China’s narrative, the Second World War was both a national trauma and a national rebirth—the moment when China emerged from the shadow of Japanese imperialism. By holding the 80th anniversary parade, Xi Jinping is both celebrating historical sacrifice and projecting modern strength.
The military display will be vast. Tens of thousands of troops are expected to march in precise formation through Tiananmen Square. Veterans will be honored. More significantly, China is expected to showcase its latest weapons systems, including hundreds of aircraft, advanced tanks, and the newest anti-drone technologies.
For military analysts, the 70-minute parade will provide a rare open-air glimpse into the People’s Liberation Army’s (PLA) restructured force—a transformation that has been under way since Xi came to power. What was once an army-centric institution has been reorganized into a modern, joint-force structure with naval, air, and strategic support commands meant to rival those of the United States.
The parade’s staging in the heart of Beijing is deliberate. It is both a reminder to the Chinese people of the government’s power and a warning to rivals that China intends to defend its sphere of influence.
For Kim Jong Un, the trip marks a significant departure from his usual isolation. Since assuming power in 2011, Kim has been one of the least traveled heads of state in the world. His international engagements have been limited—three trips to Beijing in 2018, a meeting with then–South Korean president Moon Jae-in, and two high-profile summits with former U.S. president Donald Trump. His last known visit to Beijing was in 2019.
Unlike in 2015, when North Korea sent senior official Choe Ryong-hae to represent Pyongyang at China’s previous Victory Day parade, Kim himself will be present this time. That change alone signals an upgrade in North Korea’s standing within China’s foreign policy orbit.
It also reflects the political calculus in Pyongyang. For Kim, appearing beside Xi and Putin is a message to Washington, Seoul, and Tokyo: North Korea has allies, however uneasy, who are willing to put him on the stage as an equal. The optics of Kim in Tiananmen Square also shore up his legitimacy at home. State media in Pyongyang will broadcast images of their leader rubbing shoulders with the world’s great powers—proof, in the regime’s narrative, that North Korea is not isolated but courted.
For Xi Jinping, hosting both Putin and Kim is a triumph of choreography not just for the parade but for diplomacy.
The timing matters. U.S. President Donald Trump has recently floated the idea of rekindling talks with Kim and even hinted at a meeting. He has also been exploring ways to strike a deal with Putin to end the war in Ukraine. By drawing both men into Beijing first, Xi sends a clear signal: if Washington wants to engage with Kim or Putin, China must be part of the equation.
This maneuver gives Xi leverage in any potential summit with Trump later in the year. The White House has suggested that Trump could be in Asia by late October, with an openness to meeting Xi. If that happens, Xi will come to the table having already consulted with both Putin and Kim, armed with insights and promises that Washington cannot ignore.
In effect, Xi is reminding the world that China is not just a regional power but a broker of global affairs.
Putin’s presence in Beijing is not surprising. Russia and China have grown closer since the Ukraine war, with Beijing providing Moscow economic lifelines through trade and energy deals while carefully avoiding direct military aid that might trigger Western sanctions.
For Putin, appearing at the parade is a chance to reinforce his narrative of resistance against the West. He will stand in Tiananmen Square as the leader of a country under Western sanctions, alongside another sanctioned leader—Kim Jong Un—and a partner who is willing to host him despite global isolation.
The symbolism is potent: a bloc of powers that reject Western dominance, celebrating victory over a historical enemy, Japan, whose own alliance with the United States has grown stronger in recent years.
Not everyone is pleased. Tokyo has already urged European and Asian nations not to attend the parade, warning that the event carries “anti-Japanese overtones.” For Japan, the idea of a grand Chinese military parade commemorating its defeat in World War II is not just about history—it is about the present.
Japan has grown increasingly wary of China’s military expansion in the East China Sea, its assertiveness in the South China Sea, and its support for North Korea. The memory of Japanese imperialism remains a tool Beijing wields in regional politics, often using history to justify present-day grievances.
By inviting Kim Jong Un to attend, Xi also rubs salt in Tokyo’s wounds. North Korea continues to fire missiles over Japanese territory, threatening regional security. Seeing Kim honored in Beijing is likely to deepen Japanese frustration with China’s role as both mediator and enabler of North Korea.
Most Western leaders are expected to skip the parade. Their absence highlights the growing divide between East and West. For the United States, Europe, and allies like Japan and Australia, the parade will be seen as a show of force by an authoritarian bloc united more by opposition to the West than by shared vision.
But their absence also hands Xi the stage. With no Western leaders present, China can cast itself as the center of an alternative world order—one where history is interpreted through Beijing’s lens and where U.S. influence is secondary.
Military parades are not just about missiles and tanks. They are performances. Each troop formation, each aerial display, and each dignitary in the reviewing stand sends a message.
By placing Kim Jong Un in the center of Beijing’s political theater, Xi is signaling that North Korea remains strategically relevant, despite sanctions and international isolation. By hosting Putin, he underscores that Russia is not alone in its standoff with the West. And by presiding over the whole display, Xi reaffirms his own role as the central figure of a new geopolitical triangle: Beijing, Moscow, Pyongyang.
The United States, watching from afar, will not miss the implications. For Washington, the parade is a reminder that while it pursues bilateral deals with Moscow or Pyongyang, Beijing remains the common denominator.
Still, Xi’s balancing act carries risks. While China has influence over Kim and Putin, it is limited. Pyongyang has often ignored Beijing’s advice, pursuing missile launches even when it complicates China’s diplomacy. Moscow, too, sees Beijing as a partner but not a master, and the Sino-Russian relationship is rooted more in convenience than deep trust.
By aligning himself too closely with both Kim and Putin, Xi risks further alienating the West at a time when China’s economy is under pressure and foreign investment is fleeing. He also risks reinforcing the perception of a new Cold War, with China firmly planted on one side of a global divide.
On 3 September, as the soldiers march and the aircraft roar overhead, the cameras will linger not only on the hardware but on the leaders in attendance. The photo of Xi, Putin, and Kim together will be studied, published, and dissected around the world.
For Beijing, it will be proof of its centrality. For Pyongyang, it will be validation. For Moscow, it will be defiance.
And for Washington, Tokyo, and European capitals, it will be a reminder that history is never far from the present—that the wars of the past still shape the rivalries of today, and that in the world’s most populous nation, military parades are never just parades.
