General Zhang Youxia survived every previous wave of Xi Jinping's military housecleaning. A decorated combat veteran with family ties to China's revolutionary past, he had known Xi since childhood. Their fathers fought side by side in the civil war. For more than a decade, Zhang stood as the most powerful uniformed officer in the People's Liberation Army, a man seemingly untouchable.

That ended on January 24.

China's Ministry of National Defense announced that Zhang, 75, faces investigation for "suspected serious violations of discipline and law"—the standard Communist Party formulation for corruption charges that almost invariably lead to removal and punishment. General Liu Zhenli, chief of the CMC's Joint Staff Department, was named in the same announcement.

The fall of Zhang Youxia is not merely another scalp in Xi's long-running anti-corruption campaign. It represents the effective dismantling of China's entire military high command, a purge without precedent since Mao's death in 1976.

The Unraveling of the High Command

When Xi secured his third term as party chief in 2022, he stacked the Central Military Commission with six generals he trusted to modernize the PLA and enforce loyalty. Four years later, that leadership structure lies in ruins.

Four CMC members have already been formally expelled. Zhang's investigation leaves only two people on the body that commands 2 million troops: Xi himself, and General Zhang Shengmin, the anti-corruption enforcer who has overseen the purges. The commission that once directed China's military ambitions now barely functions as an institution.

Former CIA analyst Christopher K. Johnson called the development "unprecedented in the history of the Chinese military" and said it amounts to "the total annihilation of the high command."

Zhang had not appeared in public since November 20, when he met with Russia's defense minister in Moscow. Reports from Chinese sources indicate military investigators detained him earlier this week. Xi dispatched a special task force to Shenyang, where Zhang once held command, with investigators reportedly staying in civilian hotels rather than military facilities—a sign they may distrust local commanders still loyal to the general.

A Trusted Ally No Longer

Zhang's credentials were impeccable by Communist Party standards. He joined the PLA in 1968 and earned battlefield recognition during the bloody 1979 border war with Vietnam, one of the few senior officers who could claim actual combat experience. State media lionized him for decades.

Xi rewarded that service with extraordinary trust. He brought Zhang onto the Politburo in 2017 and elevated him to senior vice chairman of the CMC in 2022, even though Zhang was already past the customary retirement age. A Pentagon assessment at the time concluded that Zhang's retention "probably reflects Xi's desire to keep a close and experienced ally as his top military adviser."

As first vice chairman, Zhang wielded authority comparable to a combined U.S. Secretary of Defense and Chairman of the Joint Chiefs. He controlled promotions, budgets, strategy, and operations. He answered to no one except Xi.

That concentration of power may have sealed his fate. Dennis Wilder, a former CIA China analyst now at Georgetown University, suggested Xi grew uncomfortable with how much authority Zhang had accumulated as other generals fell. "He is a tough, profane old goat and, while he had allied with Xi, he was never his subordinate," Wilder observed.

Just weeks before his detention, Zhang published an article calling on the military to root out "fake loyalty" and "two-faced men." The irony was apparently lost on no one.

What Xi Wants

The timing of the purge carries its own significance. Xi has set 2027 as the deadline for the PLA to achieve the capability to take Taiwan by force. Late last year, Beijing staged its largest military exercises ever around the island, simulating a near-total blockade with live missiles.

Yet the Pentagon's December report on China's military found that sweeping personnel changes had "caused uncertainty over organizational priorities" and identified capability shortfalls tied to procurement corruption, including malfunctioning missile silo lids. The assessment warned of "short-term disruptions in operational effectiveness" while allowing that the PLA could emerge stronger if the campaign eliminates systemic problems.

Some analysts believe Xi is clearing out an older generation of commanders less willing to contemplate war. "I think these old guards are much more reluctant to attack Taiwan," said Yun Sun of the Stimson Center. "Xi wants his own people, he wants younger people that will, in a way, be more beholden to him."

The problem Xi now faces is straightforward: he has purged so many generals that few qualified replacements remain untainted by association with the disgraced commanders.

The Broader Campaign

Zhang's downfall fits a pattern that has accelerated since 2023, when investigators targeted the Rocket Force, the elite unit controlling China's nuclear arsenal. The crackdown spread to every service branch and eventually claimed two defense ministers.

Last year alone, China punished more than 980,000 officials for disciplinary violations—the highest figure since authorities began publishing such statistics. Xi has called corruption "the biggest threat" facing the Communist Party.

Whether the campaign reflects genuine reform or serves primarily to eliminate potential rivals remains a subject of debate. What seems clear is that Xi has now concentrated military authority in his own hands to a degree unseen in decades. The circle of decision-makers overseeing Taiwan, the South China Sea, and China's nuclear forces has narrowed to essentially one man.

Zhang Youxia, the combat veteran whose father helped build the Communist state, joins a growing list of generals who discovered that proximity to Xi Jinping offers no protection—and may, in the end, invite suspicion.