On the morning of December 7, 1941, Japan unleashed a carefully orchestrated surprise attack on the US Pacific Fleet at Pearl Harbor. It wasn’t just a devastating tactical strike—it was a signal to the world that a new era in warfare had begun. With six aircraft carriers at its core, the Imperial Japanese Navy sank eight U.S. battleships, proving that air power—specifically carrier-based air power—had overtaken the once-dominant battleship. That day marked the sunset of battleship supremacy and the dawn of a new naval paradigm built around floating airfields.
Eighty-four years later, on the night of May 6, 2025, a different kind of shockwave may have been set in motion in the skies above South Asia. In a dogfight that lasted just 25 minutes, India and Pakistan reportedly deployed as many as 125 fighter jets in what some analysts are calling the most intense aerial engagement since World War II. If reports from Pakistani and Western military sources are to be believed, the implications of what occurred may be just as seismic as Pearl Harbor—signaling a shift in the balance of power in the skies.
The most controversial and potentially game-changing detail of the engagement: a French-built Rafale jet, flown by the Indian Air Force, was allegedly shot down by a Chinese-made J-10CE fighter operated by Pakistan. The Rafale, considered one of the most advanced 4.5-generation fighters globally, is often compared favorably even with early fifth-generation jets. It’s fast, nimble, and equipped with state-of-the-art avionics and weapons systems.
Yet it was reportedly outgunned by a Chinese fighter jet firing a domestically-produced PL-15 air-to-air missile—a moment that, if confirmed, would be unprecedented. The Rafale’s downfall at the hands of a Chinese platform would mark the first known instance of Western air superiority being directly and conclusively challenged in real-time combat by a Chinese design.
This encounter could be China’s own “Deep Seek” moment—a technological coming of age on the global stage, much like Japan’s aircraft carrier masterstroke in 1941.
Since World War II, Western countries—particularly the U.S., UK, and their close allies—have not just led but defined the evolution of combat aviation. Jet propulsion, stealth technology, fly-by-wire systems, beyond-visual-range missiles—every transformative leap has originated in the West.
Germany’s Me 262 and Britain’s Gloster Meteor hinted at the jet age, but it was the post-war efforts of American companies like General Electric and Lockheed that turned these concepts into a global force. From the F-86 Sabre, which gained supremacy during the Korean War, to the F-15 and F-16 that dominated the Cold War, and finally to the F-22 Raptor and F-35 Lightning II—the U.S. has always stayed ahead of the curve.
Western European countries followed suit with platforms like the Tornado, Mirage, Rafale, and Eurofighter Typhoon. Israel developed the Kfir and later became an electronics powerhouse for Western jets. Russia, even at its peak, was often a step behind in terms of engine reliability and avionics.
China, meanwhile, remained a peripheral player—until now.
For decades, China’s aviation strategy relied heavily on reverse engineering. The J-11 and J-15 are widely considered copies of the Russian Su-27 and Su-33. Chinese jet engines lagged far behind their Western and Russian counterparts, often criticized for poor thrust-to-weight ratios and unreliability.
But Beijing was quietly investing in defense research and manufacturing. In the 2000s, it rolled out the J-10—its first fully indigenous fighter. Then came the fifth-generation J-20 stealth fighter, followed by the naval-focused J-35. In a stunning development at the 2024 Zhuhai Airshow, China unveiled two sixth-generation fighters: the J-36 and J-50, placing it shoulder-to-shoulder with the U.S. in the race for air dominance.
The J-36, in particular, is radically unconventional—with three engines and a unique wing-tail configuration never before seen on a tactical fighter. It suggests not just mimicry but genuine innovation.
Despite China’s progress in airframes, radar, and missiles, one area continues to lag: jet engines.
Most Chinese fighters still depend on either Russian engines or underperforming domestic alternatives like the Shenyang WS-10. This engine gap remains one of the last technological domains where Western countries retain a clear lead. For instance, India’s Tejas, South Korea’s KF-21, and Turkey’s TF-Kaan all rely on American-made General Electric engines.
This dependency gives the West a measure of control, but it’s also an unsustainable strategic advantage. Beijing is pouring billions into developing its WS-15 and other next-gen engines. If China cracks this code within the next decade, the final barrier to true aviation parity—or superiority—will have been breached.
Until now, China’s military aviation advances were viewed with skepticism due to a glaring omission: a lack of combat testing.
While U.S. fighters have been tested over Iraq, Libya, Kosovo, Afghanistan, and Syria, Chinese jets remained unblooded. That changed on May 6. If reports from the South Asian dogfight are accurate, Chinese jets not only held their own—they prevailed.
For years, defense analysts dismissed the J-10C as a paper tiger. Now, it’s being credited with downing a Rafale. That shifts the conversation. It’s no longer about “can China compete?”—but “how soon will it dominate?”
China isn’t alone in challenging the West’s monopoly. South Korea has become an aerospace upstart. Its FA-50 has secured export deals across Southeast Asia and Eastern Europe. Egypt is eyeing a fleet of 100 units. The country is also co-developing the KF-21 Boramae, a stealth-capable fifth-gen fighter.
Turkey’s TF-Kaan, despite geopolitical headwinds, took its maiden flight in early 2024. Though powered by a U.S. engine, it demonstrates that complex fighter programs are no longer out of reach for emerging powers.
India, for its part, is advancing the Tejas Mk2 and its ambitious AMCA stealth fighter. It’s also exploring collaborations with France and Russia to reduce engine dependence. Even Pakistan, traditionally a buyer, now manufactures jets like the JF-17 with China’s help.
To be clear, the United States still leads in many areas: stealth, electronic warfare, radar, and power projection. The F-22 and F-35 are unmatched in integrated systems and networked warfare.
But cracks are forming. At least two F-16s have been lost in Ukraine since their delivery began in 2024. Russian R-37M missiles are believed to be behind one of the downings. In the Red Sea, three F/A-18 Super Hornets have been lost under various circumstances, including friendly fire and landing accidents.
Such incidents don’t mean the aircraft are obsolete. But they signal that Western fighters are not invincible. And more importantly, they show adversaries can now match—if not exceed—Western capabilities in select scenarios.
A growing concern for the Pentagon is the sheer scale at which China is building its air force. Brig. Gen. Doug Wickert has warned that by 2027, China may outnumber U.S. modern fighters 12 to 1 in the Western Pacific. Admiral Samuel Paparo added that China now enjoys a 1.2-to-1 production edge in fighter jets.
This is a dramatic reversal. For decades, the U.S. could outbuild and outtech any adversary. Now, even if U.S. jets remain more advanced, the numbers game may soon tilt decisively in Beijing’s favor.
Quantity has a quality all its own—especially when paired with rapidly closing gaps in quality.
We are not witnessing the end of Western air power. But we may be witnessing the end of its monopoly.
Just as the aircraft carrier ended the reign of the battleship in 1941, the events of May 6 may mark the beginning of a new air power reality—where the skies are contested by equals, not dominated by one.
If the PL-15 missile can reliably outmatch Western BVR missiles like the AMRAAM, if J-series jets prove themselves across more combat theaters, and if China can domestically produce high-thrust reliable engines—then the air superiority paradigm will be irrevocably altered.
This would have consequences beyond just military doctrine. It would impact global alliances, arms exports, deterrence strategies, and even national prestige.
The events of May 6 could be remembered as the “Pearl Harbor of the skies”—not because of the scale of destruction, but because of what they symbolized.
A wake-up call.
The age of uncontested Western dominance in the air is drawing to a close. A multipolar airspace is emerging, one where Asian nations are not just buying jets—they’re building them, exporting them, and increasingly, proving them in combat.
It took nearly two decades after Pearl Harbor for the world to fully grasp the implications of that attack. We may need to wait just as long to understand what happened over South Asia in May 2025. But one thing is already clear: the sky is no longer the limit—for anyone.
