Analytical extensions-themed posts expand on material that has appeared in another newsletter/section and other parts of this website more generally.

As explained in a recent post, military media outlet Naval News claims that the nuclear-powered submarine that China recently launched at the Bohai Shipyard near Huludao along the Bohai Sea is not yet another Type 093B-class nuclear-powered attack submarine (SSN) but the first completed hull of the long-anticipated next-generation Type 095-class SSN.

As explained in the above post, much rests on the maturity and competitiveness of the Type 095-class SSN, and exceedingly little information is publicly available about the Type 095-class at this time. In the absence of information, the above post identified several important areas of uncertainty and raised questions to be answered as new information is uncovered and rendered available. This post broaches the potential implications of a new Chinese SSN design of currently unknown characteristics and performance for Taiwan, just as a prior post did with respect to Japan.

Like Japan, Taiwan has much to lose if China experiences a major qualitative and/or major quantitative expansion of its undersea warfare capabilities, something that a new and potentially much-improved SSN design can offer the People’s Liberation Army Navy’s (PLAN). Many of the implications of the large-scale production of a new Chinese SSN design for Taiwan are indirect in nature. That is, a growth in Chinese naval capabilities vis-a-vis the United States and Japan will inherently affect Taiwan even though Chinese SSNs—whether an SSN of the new Type 095-class or an SSN of the existing Type 093/093B-class—are unlikely to be directly used against Taiwanese warships and merchant ships approaching Taiwanese ports, the targeting of which will likely fall to other areas of China’s expansive maritime strike capability set. That said, the advent of the Type 095-class SSN design does have a direct, albeit not a spatially direct/geographically proximate, implication for Taiwan: an expanded SSN fleet, particularly one composed of an SSN design that is superior to the most recent Type 093B-class SSN variant, will bolster China’s capacity to undertake a distant blockade—as opposed to a close blockade—of the island of Taiwan.

Some may wonder why a potential enhancement of China’s capacity to undertake a distant blockade of Taiwanese ports even matters in a context in which Taiwan’s main ports—which are not concentrated on Taiwan’s eastern coastline and are, therefore, within 300 kilometers of the Chinese mainland—are even relevant. In a 2023 China Maritime Studies Institute (CMSI) analysis, Lonnie Henley made an insightful argument that the United States and Taiwan, among others, risked a situation in which China’s opponents could potentially win the proverbial first battle but still lose the war in the absence of the capability to resupply Taiwan by sea—using its main ports—by running the proverbial gauntlet of Chinese maritime strike capabilities around the Taiwan Strait in a protracted conflict scenario.

Whatever one thinks of the premise upon which Henley’s analysis rests, and notwithstanding what appear to be very substantial advances in Chinese military capabilities since 2023, the fact remains that there is a non-zero probability scenario in which much of the Chinese surface fleet and many of China’s most capable combat aircraft are heavily damaged, if not destroyed, in the opening phase of what will likely play out as an extremely high-intensity conflict in which neither side will be able to build additional warships and combat aircraft as quickly as these are heavily damaged, if not destroyed, at least in the opening months and perhaps the opening years of major war. In such a hypothetical scenario, the PLA will likely remain capable of targeting not only the ships entering and departing Taiwan’s main ports but also Taiwan’s port infrastructure—the experiences of Iran and Ansarallah in Yemen with respect to the employment of generally low-end maritime strike capabilities in and around confined bodies of water come to mind. The PLA will, however, be more limited in its ability to put in place what amounts to a distant blockade, all in a scenario in which the waters around the island of Taiwan are likely to be high-risk operating areas for Chinese submarines of any type.

A prospective much-enlarged Chinese SSN fleet, particularly one that is centered on a new SSN design(s) that is qualitatively superior to the hitherto latest Type 093B-class design, will inherently offer the PLAN the ability to implement a distant blockade of Taiwan, among others, on the high seas, if and when additional SSNs are deployed in large numbers. The essentially unlimited range of an SSN—excluding provisions for the crew, torpedoes/missiles, and certain types of supplies—means that a Chinese SSN may, for example, operate in the Strait of Malacca, the Gulf of Aden, the waters off the southern coast of Africa, the Aleutian Islands in the North Pacific, and elsewhere in Pacific Ocean and the rest of the World Ocean, with the aim of targeting, among other things, ships that are being sent to resupply Taiwan in a protracted war scenario. Even a single SSN can do a lot of damage to merchant shipping, not least in the context of a war in which a large subset of the world’s fleet of merchant ships is likely to be stranded in Chinese ports—alongside much of the world’s shipbuilding capacity—and in the event that a Chinese SSN lingers near a maritime chokepoint and/or a major port.

Uncertainties about the performance of China’s new Type 095-class SSN design and the number of SSNs that China will build and deploy over the next five to ten years notwithstanding, the very prospect of a significantly enlarged Chinese SSN fleet, particularly one that is increasingly composed of submarines that are more capable than the Type 093B-class variant, has considerable, albeit primarily indirect, implications for Taiwan. Chinese SSNs are unlikely to be involved in targeting ships around the Taiwan Strait, let alone in the Taiwan Strait, but an expanded Chinese SSN fleet—which is presumably why Beijing oversaw the expansion of the Bohai Shipyard in the first place—will offer Beijing a distant blockade capability that it is otherwise unlikely to have in a protracted war scenario. Here, as elsewhere, Taiwan is being assailed on multiple fronts.

One of the many challenges that Taiwan faces is that most of its military vehicles are, at best, lightly armoured, and are wholly exposed to the all-aspect shaped charge threat brought about by the introduction of truly mass-produced inexpensive armed “FPV” multirotor drones using commercial off the shelf (COTS) components, many of which are primarily sourced from Chinese manufacturers. The above images, which are from the Taiwanese army’s latest and ongoing exercises, exemplify this dynamic as neither the TOW anti-tank missile-equipped HMMWV nor the CM-11 tank are survivable in the face of the all-aspect shape charge threat. Only the Taiwanese army’s new American-built M1 tanks can withstand multiple hits from armed “FPV” multirotor drones, and even those vehicles require significant add-on armour, given the vulnerabilities of armour on the roof and above the engine compartment.

The fact that the vast majority of Taiwanese ground forces will not step foot outside the island of Taiwan allows the Taiwanese military to up-armour its existing vehicles along the lines of how Russia and Ukraine have done and continue to do with varying levels of effectiveness. As the above images from the latest and ongoing exercises make clear, however, the Taiwanese military does not appear to have begun to install fairly simple and inexpensive add-on armour on its vehicles, at least not at an appreciable scale. It bears emphasis that the armed "FPV” multirotor drone threat to Taiwan is not simply a matter of the forward launch of such uncrewed aircraft-turned-strike munitions from airborne or seaborne “motherships”—PLA units undertaking an amphibious assault and/or an air assault will arrive on the island of Taiwan equipped with such armaments.

Some relevant posts:

According to Taiwanese media, Taiwan’s future 6,000-tonne displacement destroyers will be configured to launch Taiwanese-made HF-2E subsonic land-attack cruise missiles from American-made Mark 41 vertical launch system (VLS) cells. The HF-2E, which is one of several publicly known long-range strike munitions in Taiwan’s arsenal, is an extended-range subsonic land-attack cruise missile derived from the subsonic HF-2 anti-ship cruise missile.

Irrespective of the probable penetration rate for the subsonic HF-2E land-attack cruise missile amid the ongoing modernization of the People’s Liberation Army’s (PLA) air defence capabilities, this is a questionable move on the part of the Taiwanese navy. A finite number of VLS cells can be installed on any warship, and Taiwan’s warships are fully exposed to China’s increasingly formidable maritime strike capabilities, which peak in terms of quality and quantity within several hundred kilometers of the Chinese coastline. Simply stated, the VLS cells on future Taiwanese warships will have to be maximally loaded with surface-to-air missiles of various types, including ballistic missile defence-capable surface-to-air missiles, if these warships are to survive the opening hours of a war. Taiwanese warships will also need to load some of the VLS cells with standoff rocket-boosted anti-submarine homing torpedoes. There will, as such, be few VLS cells to spare, not least in a context in which only a small subset of the Taiwanese surface fleet will be composed of this future 6,000-tonne displacement destroyer design, a small subset that will have to provide long-range air defence capabilities for the rest of the Taiwanese surface fleet.

All things considered, Taiwan is best off with deploying HF-2E and other strike munitions with mobile ground-based launchers that can be driven around the island. With Taiwanese warships being unlikely to operate more than 100-200 kilometers from the island of Taiwan in a crisis or war, the de facto range extension provided by a mobile forward launching position is of fairly limited importance. Taiwan risks making the mistake that Russia made with the so-called “Kalibrization” of the Russian surface fleet over the 2010s, which resulted in the absurd manner in which Russia has employed sea-launched 3M-14 land-attack cruise missiles over the course of the Russia-Ukraine War. The relevant Russian surface ships and submarines of the Russian Black Sea Fleet leave port, launch a handful of 3M-14 land-attack cruise missiles, and immediately return to port to rearm (provided that reloads are available). Unlike Russia, Taiwan cannot realistically expect to have its warships return to Taiwanese ports in wartime so as to rearm. Even Taiwan’s east coast ports are highly vulnerable to Chinese terrestrial strike and maritime strike capabilities.

Some relevant posts:

A Taiwanese legislator recently disclosed figures that suggest the Taiwanese military’s readiness, in terms of staffing levels, is significantly lower than previously known. Some highlights include the overall figures of:

• 78% staffing for Taiwanese army units garrisoned on Taiwan’s western outlying islands, some of which are located within 10 or so kilometers of the Chinese coastline.

• 74% staffing for Taiwanese army air defence units.

• 76% staffing for the Taiwanese navy and 73% staffing for the Taiwanese marine corps, which requires the Taiwanese navy’s support to reinforce Taiwan’s western outlying islands in times of crisis and war.

• 82% staffing for the Taiwanese air force’s flying units.

• 69% staffing for the Taiwanese air force’s surface-to-air missile units.

While less than 100% staffing levels are the norm for militaries worldwide, other than in a handful of high-readiness units that are, in effect, overstaffed (i.e., 100%-110% staffing) to account for personnel on leave, engaged in off-site training, injuries, and so forth, Taiwan needs a military that operates at a very high rate of readiness. This is particularly the case with the likes of air defence units, which must be as close to 100% staffing and readiness as possible at any given time, and the Taiwanese air force and navy, which will likely have a very small window to leaves their mark on the People’s Liberation Army (PLA) before being largely suppressed by China’s terestrial strike and maritime strike capabilities, as well as China’s air combat ccapabilities.

Low staffing levels for the bulk of the Taiwanese army’s units, in contrast, are not much of a problem given how Taiwan will likely have at least several weeks, if not several months, depending on seasonal environmental factors, to mobilize reservists to fully staff its ground combat units before the PLA can undertake a large-scale amphibious landing in most plausible scenarios. The apparent very low staffing of the Taiwanese army’s garrisons on Taiwan’s western outlying islands is, however, a major problem for Taipei, given how difficult most of these islands are to reinforce and resupply in times of crisis, let alone in war. It bears emphasis that these small islands have a quite small local civilian population from which to mobilize manpower for territorial defence units at a time in which the PLA is increasingly very well positioned to inflict extremely heavy casualties on the Taiwanese garrisons at these small, heavily exposed, and, all things considered, increasingly untenable forward positions.

In a recent post, I discussed why Taiwan requires a more fundamental reorientation of its military reserves so as to, among other things, fully staff its regular formations in times of crisis and war. The recent disclosure from a Taiwanese legislator suggests that Taiwan has a lot of work to do in this department beyond increasing the staffing and, as such, the readiness of its manpower-intensive ground combat units.

The advent of fairly inexpensive armed multirotor drones and armed fixed-wing loitering strike drones enables a profound devolution of firepower down to smaller units. There is a case to be made that the Taiwanese army, which is not a field army that intends to advance dozens, let alone hundreds, of kilometers into enemy-held territory in the manner of a continental army, is very well-positioned to devolve such newly available forms of firepower down to a much lower level than most armies. That is, while there is a case for the allocation of a larger grouping of armed uncrewed level to a corps-level command, each Taiwanese brigade should also be assigned a battalion-sized formation to operate armed drones of various types and that even Taiwanese infantry battalions should be assigned at least a platoon, if not an undersized company, of personnel to operate armed drones of various types. More generally, Taiwan’s reserves constitute a very large pool of manpower that can be mobilized. Should Taiwan reform its reserve system along the lines of what was described in a recent post, the Taiwanese army will be able to employ many thousands of armed uncrewed aircraft-turned-munitions per day in the event of a Chinese amphibious landing on the island of Taiwan.

Much can be said about how military reserves are organized, trained, equipped, and deployed. The widely observed poor quality of Taiwan’s reserves, which reflects the shortcomings of not just the Taiwanese military and Taiwanese military training but also the short duration of mandatory military service, has been the subject of extensive American criticism in recent years. Taiwanese decision-makers have made note of these issues. In May 2021, which is to say well before the full-scale Russian invasion of Ukraine in February 2022, Taiwan’s legislature passed legislation to establish the All-Out Defense Mobilization Agency, an organization charged with war preparation and civil defence efforts, including Taiwan’s civil defence handbook.

In January 2022, the All-Out Defense Mobilization Agency was assigned control of the Taiwanese military’s reserve units. This decision was reversed several times, which resulted in the recent decision to reassign reserve units to the military and reintegrate reserve units into the military’s prevailing theater command framework.

Subscribe now

While the organizational framework in which Taiwan’s reservists and reserve formations matter, there is a case to be made that Taiwan would be best served by a fundamental reevaluation of the role of reservists in its military strategy. As indicated previously, there are many ways that Taiwan can organize, train, equip, and deploy its reservists. The single-most important factor at play is that Taiwan’s mandatory term of service, which is just twelve months, is far too short to produce a mass army of well-trained, let alone experienced, military personnel. Given this, Taiwan will be best served by a multifaceted and tiered reserve military force, which, for example:

• Assigns some of the best—as assessed by their commanding officers under a more or less uniform grading framework—conscripts-turned-reservists to standing military formations with the aim of ensuring that all active duty units will be fully manned in time of crisis and war. In an ideal world, such reservists would be offered a financial incentive to be part of an “active reserve” in the manner of the American national guard and reserve systems. Such reservists need to undertake regular training and need to view such regular training as both an avocation and a part-time vocation, not something that they are required to occasionally do by law. This is, for example, an excellent way to ensure that all of the Taiwanese army’s brigades are fully staffed with trained and experienced drone operators, given the inherent consequences of a fairly short twelve-month term of service for the readiness of a conscription-reliant military.

  • There is scope for Taiwan to assign select personnel, particularly those who receive more specialized and more in-demand training, to an “active reserve” formation in the manner of the American national guard and reserve systems. This can allow for the establishment of, for example, multiple standalone drone companies or battalions garrisoned around Taiwan that can be mobilized as required, independently of the rest of the reserves. With regular training, something like one weekend per month and several weeks per year, the reservists assigned to such formations can be kept more or less up to date even if they had completed their military service several years prior.

• Assigns the rest of the best conscripts-turned reservists that were discharged relatively recently to standalone units that, once mobilized, can function as any other “line unit,” such as a line infantry battalion or even as a line infantry brigade (if adequate equipment and regular/full-time staff are made available). In an ideal world, this grouping of reservists will also receive regular training, but training is not only disruptive to the lives of civilian reservists but also requires investment in resources and training capacity. Here, as elsewhere, in an ideal world, financial incentives would be in place alongside legislation to not only compel participation but also put in place social safety nets and ensure continued civilian employment despite the disruptions brought about by this type of reservist service.

• Assigns the remainder of the non-specialist manpower to several tiers of reserves.

  • One tier, the largest tier, once the number of reservists increases over the coming years, can serve in territorial units that are expected to primarily set up defences around their area of responsibility in the event of war. This tier can include the oldest conscripts and can be used to bolster security around critical infrastructure.

  • Another tier can serve as an attrition reserve for the regular army. In an ideal world, this tier will include recently discharged personnel who are not assigned to one of the above tiers. In an ideal world, this tier of reservists will be assigned to a unit in which they previously served. One challenge associated with this particular tier of reserve is that the assigned reservist will eventually become older and, in terms of experience, less familiar with the latest practices and equipment of the regular/active duty military units to which they are assigned. Such reservists will, in most cases, ultimately have to be assigned to the general pool of reservists. Note, however, that attrition reserve units can be quite small, such as a battalion that is assigned to a division-sized unit or even a brigade-sized unit.

Conscription-based militaries have many quirks that do not accompany all-volunteer forces. Consider, for example, the Israeli military in general and the Israeli army in particular, which not only makes the most of its mobilized reservists but also relies on entire reserve battalions, brigades, and even divisions to fight in its preferred manner. To enable its reserve units to be more or less interchangeable with its active duty units, a dynamic that is ultimately enabled by a long term of service, the Israeli army will, for example, assign brand-new tanks to its one of its reserve units so that the most recently discharged batch of ex-conscript reservists, who are only experienced with the latest tank design and not the preceding design, can drive to their designated military base and be ready for combat within hours. If Taiwan wants to do something like the above and have more than a mass army of mobilized light infantry, it will have to make greater investments in, among other things, procurement—assigning all reservists second-tier, if not third-tier, equipment with which they are unfamiliar with not do. As the Israeli example, which is very unique, illustrates, conscription-based militaries can have many limitations and can be very difficult to manage if the country in question seriously intends to mobilize not just the most recently discharged cohort of reservists but also prior cohorts. All things considered, Taiwan will be best served by a more complex reserve system that makes the most out of available mobilizable manpower.

The uncomfortable reality of military affairs is that most military personnel do little and merely exist to fill out the ranks. While Taiwan will need proverbial legions of reservist infantry if it is to wage a fight to the death in every village, town, and city in the event of a Chinese amphibious invasion, Taiwan is unlikely to prevail in a war if it comes to that. To avoid such a fateful and, in effect, fatalistic gamble, Taiwan needs to make the very most out of the cohorts of moderately trained conscripts that will pass through its military. By tapping into the best-trained, most skilled, and most motivated discharged conscripts in a revised and necessarily more complex reserve system, Taiwan can more effectively employ a smaller, higher-quality, and higher impact pool of mobilized reservists for the defence of the island while still having a larger pool of mobilizable reservists to fight to the death in every village, town, and city if and when required. Among other things, it is important to bear in mind that a Chinese amphibious invasion will likely unfold in phases and will be spearheaded by a small subset of the People’s Liberation Army (PLA), which is to say some of its best-trained and equipped units. That is not a force that a large pool of mobilizable conscripts is best-suited to fight, absent major investments in reservist training and equipment, unless, of course, Taipei is willing to risk a very high casualty rate among mobilized reservists. There are also technological changes underway that are likely to result in a PLA that undertakes what amounts to an “unmanned amphibious invasion” of the island of Taiwan and, more generally, a PLA that launches hundreds, if not thousands, of drones, broadly defined, and other types of munitions more generally, to target Taiwanese military forces along the island country’s narrow western coastal plain. This is not a type of warfare for which Taiwan needs dozens of mobilizable reverse infantry brigades.

Some related posts:

Minimal comment-themed posts are used to introduce data points for use in other posts going forward. Posts of this theme will typically feature minimal analysis and commentary.

One of the most important factors in any major conflict over the political fate of Taiwan, including the feasibility and prospects for success of a Chinese amphibious invasion of the island of Taiwan, will be the intensity and effects of Taiwan’s annual typhoon season. Taiwan is regularly affected by typhoons from May through November. This results in widespread flooding and landslides, particularly along the island country’s mountainous eastern coastline and its mountainous interior. It also affects the flow of rivers along the country’s western coastal plain, which directs the torrent of water that falls on the mountains and the island more generally into the Taiwan Strait. This not only affects the prospects for a Chinese amphibious invasion but also leaves Taiwan heavily reliant on the structural integrity of a large but nevertheless finite number of bridges that China may, of course, purposefully target in times of crisis and war.

Taiwan’s annual typhoon season has many oft-overlooked military implications. This brief post only broaches one of the implications: an armed crisis, let alone a major war, will affect the Taiwanese military’s ability to participate in natural disaster response efforts in multiple respects. War will, of course, also degrade the capacity of the Taiwanese state’s civilian organs, private industry, and everyday civilians to respond to landslides, the (naturally-caused) destruction of transportation infrastructure, and so forth. As a result, even a typhoon season of average intensity is likely to result in a weakened Taiwan in times of crisis and war.

The net military effects of Taiwan’s regular typhoon season will, of course, ultimately depend on not only the intensity and physical destruction wrought by typhoons but also the timing of a major armed crisis, let alone a war, with China. By definition, any protracted war may result in Taiwan being subject to multiple typhoons, each of which will, if nothing else, degrade the logistical infrastructure that connects the island country’s increasingly militarily important eastern coastline to the rest of the island. Throw in deliberate Chinese attacks on specific nodes of transportation infrastructure, including whatever remains intact following a typhoon, and the interplay of natural disasters and Chinese munitions may heavily affect the course of a cross-strait conflict. This includes Taipei’s ability to implement its civil defence plans, a dynamic that may come to shape any deliberations to surrender to Beijing with or without a successful Chinese amphibious invasion attempt.

Commentary-themed posts are intended to broach or highlight a specific issue, not limited to recent and ongoing events. These posts will typically be much shorter and less detailed than analysis-themed posts.

An official video documenting Taiwan’s recently concluded military/naval exercise may be impressive enough if taken at face value, but it also highlights many of the limitations of the Taiwanese military, limitations that are increasingly consequential amid intensifying military-technological competition between China and the United States.

The above video starts by highlighting Taiwan’s (naval) minelaying capabilities, including one of the Min Jiang-class minelayers currently in service with the Taiwanese navy—additional hulls are on order. While (naval) minelaying is likely to constitute a consequential Taiwanese capability set in a Taiwan invasion scenario, this approach to (naval) minelaying is increasingly impractical for Taiwan. The People’s Liberation Army’s (PLA) maritime strike capabilities are increasingly formidable, and the scope for using the likes of not just anti-ship cruise missiles but also propeller-driven strike drones to target dedicated and ad hoc (naval) minelayers in and around the Taiwan Strait is fast increasing. Taiwan’s purpose-built Min Jiang-class minelayers may be quite fast and inexpensive, but are also small and have negligible air defence capabilities—note the second image.

As I will explain later in this post, Taiwan’s (naval) minelayers cannot realistically count on Taiwanese warships for air defence and are, as such, an impractical means of deploying naval mines much beyond Taiwan’s immediate coastline. More generally, Taiwan’s (naval) minelayers are highly vulnerable to attack while in port, and lack the endurance to remain at sea for long once mines are loaded and minelayers sortie out to sea at the outset of a crisis or conflict. There is no simple solution to this multifaceted challenge, one that has nothing to do with the quality and effectiveness of Taiwan’s naval mines once somehow deployed in militarily significant numbers.

A lot hinges on Taiwan’s ability to successfully employ its expanding, increasingly diverse, and, in certain respects, increasingly sophisticated arsenal of anti-ship cruise missiles. As with its naval minelayers, Taiwan’s anti-ship cruise missile batteries, particularly the launchers associated with the very large and heavy Hsiung Feng III ramjet-powered supersonic anti-ship cruise missiles, are prime targets for the PLA in their garrisons, the garages of which are pictured above. As I’ve explained in other contexts, there is a very real prospect that the PLA will deploy propeller-driven fixed-wing loitering strike drones, some of which may have automatic target recognition and automatic target engagement capabilities, to hunt for highly differentiated/distinguishable Taiwanese military vehicles moving on roads—the above trailer-type launcher has negligible cross-country mobility—in time of war. While there are other, more practical and promising ways to go about deploying anti-ship cruise missile launchers on the island of Taiwan, the approach exemplified in the above images does not inspire much confidence, given current technological trends and the fact that just 130-180 kilometers of water separates the island of Taiwan from China (at the narrowest points).

As noted earlier, the Taiwanese surface fleet is very poorly positioned to extend a credible air defence capability beyond Taiwan’s coastline. The above screenshots either show warships with negligible air defences or qualitatively and/or quantitatively very deficient air defences. China’s maritime strike capabilities—ground-, sea-, air-, and submarine-launched maritime strike munitions—are extremely formidable over a distance of 200-300 kilometers from the Chinese coastline. The Taiwanese navy not only faces the increasingly potent threat posed by Chinese supersonic anti-ship munitions, but also operational and prospective Chinese anti-ship ballistic missiles. Given the military-geographical context of the Taiwan Strait, China does not need the likes of the DF-21D and DF-26 anti-ship ballistic missiles to target Taiwanese naval ships. Far smaller, lighter, less sophisticated, less expensive, and, as such, likely more numerous—should the PLA heavily invest in this capability area—will do when it comes to targeting warships—and merchant ships—over a distance of 200-300 kilometers. It bears emphasis that the Taiwanese navy does not currently have any (naval) ballistic missile defence capability and that Taiwan’s currently operational ground-based ballistic missile defences only extend a limited protective footprint out to sea.

The challenges that the Taiwanese military faces are multi-faceted, and there are no quick and easy—to say nothing of inexpensive—fixes available. As it concerns naval capabiltiies and, to a lesser degree, air combat capabilities, Taiwanese decision-makers must, of course, balance between (A) the imperative of maintaining a sufficiently credible force that can be used in a crisis short of war to prevent a de facto PLA naval and aerial blockade that can “swallow” Taiwan without violence and (B) the imperative of developing a sufficiently credible force that will make Taiwan difficult to invade and occupy once fighting starts. The requirements for these two distinct capability sets have little overlap and are often in tension, not least when scarce/finite resources must be allocated. As things stand, publicly available documentation of Taiwan’s most recent military/naval exercise does not inspire much confidence at a time when the military options available to Chinese decision-makers are fast-expanding as a result of both technological change and intensifying military-technological competition between the United States and China.

This extensions-themed post is an extension of material that has appeared in another newsletter/section and other parts of my website more generally. While my newsletters/sections are primarily categorized by region, these can only appear in one newsletter/section, given how the Substack platform is configured, even as these may be highly relevant to readers who are primarily interested in other parts of the world.

In a recent post, I discussed a Turkish ekranoplan/ground-effect vehicle strike drone that its manufacturer claims can be used to deliver a 30-kilogram warhead over a distance of 200 kilometers.

In several recent posts, I have discussed how technological change increasingly affords both China and Taiwan new opportunities to attack targets across the Taiwan Strait, which is some 130-180 kilometers wide at its narrowest points. Ekranoplan/ground-effect vehicle strike drones may become one of the many approaches that both China and Taiwan will pursue to attack coastal targets in a cross-strait conflict.

This extensions-themed post is an extension of material that has appeared in another newsletter/section and other parts of my website more generally. My newsletters/sections are primarily categorized by region and my posts can only appear in one newsletter/section at a time given how the Substack platform is configured. Extensions-themed posts are intended to highlight content posted in other newsletters/sections that may be highly relevant to readers who are primarily interested in other parts of the world.

In several recent posts, I have discussed how China can use a wide range of generally low-cost short-range strike munitions to attack targets on the island of Taiwan and Taiwan’s outlying western islands more generally. The corollary is that Taiwan is also increasingly well-positioned to pursue much the same capability set to attack targets along the Chinese coastline. While the effects of technological change on military capabilities tend to cut both ways unless there are major asymmetries in geography, it bears emphasis that Taiwan is unlikely to have the luxury of time to undertake what is likely to amount to a rather slow-burning strike campaign through such generally low-cost short-range strike munitions against Taiwan. Taiwan also faces an additional challenge in that China’s surveilling and targeting of the island country’s western coastline is likely to greatly impede the operations of uncrewed surface vehicles in particular. More generally, Taiwan will likely struggle to replenish critical assets in wartime, including long-range air and ballistic missile defences. Without a credible air defence capability in place, Taiwan, which is located just some 130-180 kilometers from the Chinese mainland, is far too proximate and, therefore, far too exposed to all manner of Chinese strike capabilities to have much scope for a rather slow-burning strike campaign against China even if China either forgoes a large-scale amphibous landing attempt for whatever reason or if a Chinese amphibious landing attempt(s) fails. In any event, the following recent posts published in my China newsletter/section are relevant to readers interested in Taiwan’s military capabilities in terms of both the potential approaches that China may pursue against Taiwan and the potential approaches that Taiwan may itself pursue against China.

This post is an extension of material that has appeared in another newsletter/section and other parts of my website more generally. While my newsletters/sections are primarily categorized by region—you can either subscribe to specific newsletters/sections or subscribe to the entire website/all of my writings—many posts can be readily placed in multiple newsletters/sections—but only appear in one newsletter/section given how the Substack platform is configured—and may be highly relevant to readers who are primarily interested in other parts of the world. I hope that my Extensions themed posts help rationalize my comparativist analytical approach, one that results in my website covering a very wide range of military-related topics and much of the world.

In a recent post, I reviewed the English-language version of Taiwan’s latest civil defence handbook.

In the above post, I noted that Taiwan

would do well to systematically evacuate outlying areas, particularly the sections of the coastline that are candidates for a PLA amphibious landing, in advance.

In two recent posts, I highlighted how China can, among other things, employ armed “first-person video” (“FPV”) multirotor drones against the island of Taiwan as well as Taiwan’s outlying western islands.

Anyone visiting this website will have noticed that I am a regular and very close observer of the Russia-Ukraine War. My motivations for following that particular conflict are multifaceted. I am, at heart, a comparativist military analyst. The laws of physics—the scientific considerations at play—are universal, as are most of the analytical dynamics at play when we account for (limited and finite) variance in geography and “human factors” (this is why this publication is called Universal Dynamics). As a result, essentially every development in the world of military affairs is relevant to other countries and other contexts. The remainder of this post will broach exactly what the title advertised: how technological change, specifically the advent of “first-person video” (“FPV”) multirotor drones that are being used seven digit quantities in the Russia-Ukraine War, is enabling the highly surgical micro-level targeting of a wide range of targets including gas/petrol stations in a manner that I posit is likely to reshape the fast-evolving cross-strait military balance.

For all the importance of People’s Liberation Army (PLA) combat aircraft and associated armaments, warships, ground-launched missiles, etc.—which I have covered in multiple posts on this website and in other writings—in a conflict in the Taiwan Strait, observers should be mindful that technological change is dramatically expanding China’s options when it comes to attacking such a proximate target. By closely following the Russia-Ukraine War, other conflicts elsewhere, and developments in military technology and military capabilities around the world, we can better discern the realm of possibilities as it concerns China’s ability to wage a war against Taiwan that may or may not involve a much-discussed amphibious landing.

In recent months, first Russia and now seemingly Ukraine have been attacking gas/petrol stations with increasing regularity. What is particularly notable about these attacks concerns the use of armed “FPV” multirotor drones as miniaturized strike munitions in highly surgical attacks against specific nodes of local energy storage and distribution. I have covered these attacks in several posts:

Such attacks against gas/petrol stations constitute some of the many ways that China may attempt to bring Taipei to heel in time of war, with or without an amphibious invasion attempt. Yes, the PLA Air Force (PLAAF) and PLA Rocket Force (PLARF)— and even the PLA Ground Force (PLAGF) and PLA Navy (PLAN)—have strike munitions that can be used to target Taiwan’s oil refineries, refined product storage tanks (i.e., tanks storing readily usable petrol/gasoline, diesel, jet fuel, propane, etc.), and seaborne import facilities. Taiwan does, however, have decidedly non-zero air and ballistic missile defence capabilities in place that can neutralize a decidedly non-zero portion of a realistic PLA strike salvo, and there are many hundreds, if not thousands, of discrete aimpoints that the PLA must target to take offline the largest Taiwanese energy facilities. Even if publicly available estimates of the PLARF arsenal of ballistic missiles and cruise missiles undercount the actual total by half, the PLARF simply does not have enough munitions to undertake a far-reaching energy campaign against Taiwan while also attacking a diverse array of other target types in Taiwan and elsewhere. (Whether the PLAAF in particular will be able to compensate for this is, I think, one of the most consequential and, so far, least—publicly—underexamined analytical dynamics at play)

The challenge that Taiwan—as well as interested observers and analysts—now face is that the PLA has never had so many options for attacking Taiwan’s military forces and critical infrastructure on the island of Taiwan. This includes the use of armed “FPV” multirotor drones and similar to target the likes of gas/petrol stations along Taiwan’s western coastline. As I’ve explained in one of my earlier posts, although armed “FPV” multirotor drones lack the range to cross the Taiwan Strait, these can be launched from aircraft, whether crewed or uncrewed, or vessels, whether crewed or uncrewed, located in/above the Taiwan Strait. Through such micro-level targeting of local energy storage and distribution, which can, of course, take place alongside the targeting of Taiwan’s electricity generation and distribution facilities, oil refineries, and related nodes of the island country’s electricity and energy infrastructure, the PLA can, in effect, make parts of Taiwan “unlivable.” At a minimum, such attacks can be part of prepartory fires intended to prepare the local physical and human terrain for an amphibious invasion, which is likely to have a significant heliborne air assault component. Such a campaign against Taiwan’s local energy storage and distribution infrastructure may, however, also be part of a larger attempt to bring Taipei to heel.

To be clear, the PLA does not appear to currently possess the required—quite inexpensive and largely made in China—capability set, it may never field such a capability set for its own idiosyncratic reasons, and Chinese decision-makers may decide against such a campaign against Taiwan. It is nevertheless important for decision-makers, analysts, and observers to be cognizant of what is and is not within the realm of possibility. The micro-level targeting of critical nodes of infrastructure, including local fuel storage and distribution, is now all too possible, as seen in the context of the Russia-Ukraine War and other conflicts worldwide.

While Taiwan already has (some) defences in place and notwithstanding the fact that countermeasures are undoubtedly possible, Taiwan is unlikely to be able to secure the entirety of an island with a surface area of around 35,000 square kilometers against such attacks. The experience of both belligerents in the Russia-Ukraine War should constitute a sobering example of how there simply may not be adequate numbers of even effective countermeasures to go around, not least when measure-countermeasure dynamics diminish the effectiveness of a given set of systems and necessitate a steady supply of more capable replacements. Coastal low-altitude air defence against small, slow, and low flying aerial targets is very challenging, not least in a context in which the PLA is very well positioned to simply up the ante by using other, higher-end strike munitions to neutralize Taiwanese defences in one sector or another and, in so doing, create an opening for the PLA’s inexpensive and, as such, likely plentiful, armed “FPV” multirotor drones and similar, to undertake a potentially far-reaching micro-level strike campaign against Taiwan. Unlike Ukraine, Taiwan cannot be practically resupplied with armaments in time of war, and its prospects to keep up with China in a wartime measure-countermeasure competition—in the manner that Ukraine is engaged in a measure-countermeasure competition with Russia—without external material support are not promising.

This post is intended to broach the underexamined issue of how technological change is fundamentally reshaping the cross-strait military balance, highlight the benefits of my comparative analytical approach, and highlight the importance of viewing developments in military technology and military capabilities worldwide as nothing other than universal dynamics.

Assumptions About Connectivity

All things considered, the handbook offers Taiwan’s inhabitants useful information not only for times of crisis and war but also for natural and manmade disasters. One of the most striking aspects of the document is the inherent assumption it makes about the state of connectivity in times of crisis and war. The document features many QR codes, phone numbers, and URLs that can only be accessed in a situation in which mobile phone coverage and internet access essentially remain at pre-war levels. This is an increasingly questionable assumption given trends in military technology, the evolution of China’s military capabilities, and the People’s Liberation Army’s (PLA) incentives to degrade Taiwan’s inherently dual-use communication infrastructure in time of war, particularly during and after an amphibious invasion attempt.

Taiwanese decision-makers are, of course, aware of this dynamic and have been working to bolster the resilience of the island country’s telecommunications infrastructure. While China will likely be unable to fully cut Taiwan off from the (worldwide) internet—it may, however, target the landing stations of the submarine internet cables that connect Taiwan to the (worldwide) internet—let alone Taiwan’s internal terrestial “intranet” network, at least short of a protracted conflict scenario in which most Taiwanese lose access to electricity, China is increasingly well positioned to target radio transmission facilities across Taiwan. By radio transmission facilities, I do not only refer to AM and FM radio but also cellular communication towers and microwave relay antennas, the latter of which are extremely important in the mountainous areas of Taiwan.

While there are some workarounds that Taiwan may pursue following widespread PLA strikes targeting Taiwan’s telecommunications infrastructure, there is no full substitute to the high-elevation transmission equipment installed on towers and at high elevations in peacetime. Taiwan may use apartment buildings and other high-rise structures as wartime radio transmission sites, but these transmissions can be detected, and it has never been easier for China—or any other military—to target such transmission sites. It is worth noting that technological trends mean that China need not raze, for example, an apartment building to neutralize a radio transmitter placed on its roof. The PLA can very “surgically” target such transmission equipment with fairly small and light munitions. While Taiwan will likely undertake constant efforts to reconstitute its telecommunication efforts in wartime in the face of sustained Chinese attacks, much of the island is likely to be operating with highly degraded connectivity. Stated differently, many of Taiwan’s inhabitants are likely to remain beyond the reach of Taiwan’s senior-most decision-makers in Taipei.

What To Do—And Not Do—If Taiwan’s Residents Spot PLA Personnel/Vehicles

Somewhat surprisingly, the document has relatively little to say when it comes to advising Taiwan’s inhabitants on how they should conduct themselves during and after a PLA amphibious invasion attempt.

The document advises Taiwan’s inhabitants to “leave the area as quickly as possible” when spotting possible PLA activity. This is, of course, reasonable advice, but it is also a recipe for chaos and congested roads. Civilians rushing out of an area on foot, by bicycle, and by car will impede Taiwanese military traffic in wartime. Amid the chaos of war, there will doubtless be incidents in which, for example, a car packed with a family desperately trying to get away takes what they hope to be a shortcut, only to run into a PLA column. PLA personnel could be given the exact same training on the laws of war and related issues as Western militaries—or the Taiwanese military itself, but the unfortunate reality is that the results are likely to be more or less the same: PLA combatants—who are likely to be extremely fatigued and running on adrenaline—will likely point their weapons and, at least, fire a few shots as a warning with all too predictable results.

All things considered, the best advice to all civilians in any conflict zone is to shelter in place—away from windows—for as long as possible and, in effect, stay out of it so as to unambiguously remain a non-combatant. This, of course, means obeying reasonable demands from occupying military forces and occupying civil administrators, however begrudging such obedience may be. The primary exception will be in cases in which there is a reasonable expectation that civilians who shelter in place will be massacred by enemy forces, irrespective of their conduct. If the Taiwanese government thinks that massacres by PLA forces are likely, it would do well to communicate as such in advance so as to avoid the chaos and congestion that will likely result—with or without guidelines of one sort or another—in times of crisis and war. Moreover, it would do well to systematically evacuate outlying areas, particularly the sections of the coastline that are candidates for a PLA amphibious landing, in advance.

It bears emphasis that while a full-scale PLA amphibious invasion of the island of Taiwan proper may not be very likely, the same cannot be said about a full-scale PLA amphibious invasion of Taiwan’s Kinmen and Matsu Islands, the Penghu Islands, and other outlying Taiwanese territory more generally. One would think that the inhabitants of those islands, who, for all practical intents and purposes, cannot escape, require very different advice from their government than the inhabitants of the island of Taiwan. Similarly, persons who reside along Taiwan’s western coastline require very different advice from their government than the inhabitants of other parts of the island, particularly persons who live in the country’s mountainous interior and along its eastern coast.

The document notably tells—not suggests—Taiwan’s residents not to “take photos or videos of the Taiwan military’s movements or upload or share that information, as it could put friendly forces in danger.” This is, of course, sound advice, but it could go much further. Civilians who take photos and videos of the aftermath of military activity, including air and missile strikes, unwittingly provide a lot of useful information to enemy forces. This may, of course, matter little if Taiwan’s telecommunications are heavily degraded—an island country that is disconnected from the worldwide internet is, by definition, an island country with a terrestrial, Taiwan-only intranet that cannot be readily accessed by China. This should serve as a reminder of how impactful the wartime state of Taiwan’s telecommunications infrastructure is likely to be on so many aspects of a war, given the insular (i.e., island) nature of the country.

It is notable but not entirely surprising that the Taiwanese government does not caution the residents of the island country against taking photos or videos of Chinese/PLA military positions and movements. While governments and militaries unsurprisingly and understandably want to receive such information—intelligence—in wartime, the civilians who take such photos and videos place themselves at risk, given how any person monitoring and reporting on enemy military activity is no longer a strict non-combatant irrespective of what they wear, their pre-war job/role, and whether or not they (self) identifiy as a combatant. War is not a game, certainly not a fair game, and even the best-trained and most-disciplined militaries are likely to fire upon nominal civilians who are monitoring and reporting on their movements. The Taiwanese government will place the residents of the island country at grave risk if it not only fails to explicitly caution against such activity but, in effect, implicitly welcomes it.

I have much more to say on this topic, not least as it relates to the ongoing Russia-Ukraine War. Suffice it to say, wars are nothing like the idealized nineteenth-century battlefields in which opposing armies typically marched toward one another’s positions in open fields wearing bright—or at least unmistakably military with headgear, etc.—uniforms and more generally operating in a context in which there was little ambiguity between a combatant and non-combatant. This is the context, military, social, and otherwise, that informs the enduring laws of war and related. It is important to note that even in this quite brutal idealized nineteenth-century context, non-uniformed combatants, spies, and similar were widely held to be franc-tireurs and subject to summary executions following capture. While the laws and norms of war and related matters have evolved considerably since then, not least in the aftermath of the Second World War, there is a case to be made that technological change and changing military practices have outpaced the evolution of the laws and norms of war and related matters.

Given the tangent, I will offer a few examples that are relevant to Taiwan: (nominal) civilians reporting enemy military movements and positions on phone apps and similar created by one’s own government, (nominal) civilians operating camera-equipped multirotor drones in support of combatants, (nominal) civilians assembling munitions, whether so-called molotov cocktails or multirotor drones, and (nominal) civilians transporting military and/or military-related equipment, including general supplies and provisions, for (lawful) combatants. Taiwan’s government will do well to explicate its position on what it does and does not expect—even forbid—of the island country’s inhabitants in time of war.

The Uncomfortable Question Of Surrender

All things considered, the single most important—or at least the single most consequential—part of Taiwan’s latest civil defence handbook is found on page 19.

The official English-language version of the document states in no uncertain terms that “in the event of a military invasion of Taiwan, any claim that the government has surrendered or that the nation has been defeated is false.” The sentiment behind this statement is understandable, as is the instrumental logic of cautioning Taiwan’s inhabitants against readily accepting Chinese/PLA propaganda, disinformation, and so forth. And yet, such statements are fundamentally problematic and lack any nobility. There are only three alternatives to surrender in war: escape, which is not a viable option for the inhabitants of Taiwan and other island countries more generally; victory, which is ultimately the preferred and “simplest” option that need not be elaborated; surrender, which few are willing to countenance in advance but all must ultimately come to terms with, however begrudgingly; and death. Taiwan’s inhabitants cannot escape. The prospects for victory are undoubtedly non-zero, but will change if and when a PLA amphibious attempt is underway/has taken place. By unconditionally and unequivocally ruling out surrender in advance of a conflict, Taiwan’s government is telling the island country’s population… what exactly? Taiwan does not have nuclear weapons. It cannot “secure” its national survival by threatening to obliterate Chinese cities (even if it could, China can “absorb” far more nuclear attacks than Taiwan ever can, given the variance in geography and demography). The only alternative to surrender in the absence of escape or victory is death.

Personally, I think that governments should offer official advice on how their inhabitants should and should not conduct themselves in the event of being captured/being in enemy-controlled territory. If nothing else, it establishes clear expectations and limits on appropriate behaviour, a dynamic that facilitates clear understandings of what conduct will be punished, perhaps with execution, when the war comes to an end, as all wars ultimately do. Needless to say, the latest edition of Taiwan’s civil defence handbook never tells the country’s inhabitants that they should never surrender to the PLA or that they should resist—fight—to the death. It does, however, essentially say just that about what Taiwan will do as a country. What are Taiwan’s inhabitants to do in the event that the PLA controls the parts of the island country’s western coastal plain, which is where most of the population resides? If not surrendering, does the Taiwanese government expect its civilians to “keep fighting?” Does the Taiwanese government expect its civilians to wage an insurgency and support what remains of Taiwan’s uniformed military in such an insurgency? Does it expect its civilians to, for example, approach a Communist Party of China official in charge of administering their occupied town—or a Taiwanese person collaborating with the PLA and the People’s Republic of China more generally—to… do what exactly other than submit—surrender—while hoping and working for a better future in which Taiwan’s independence is restored?

Taiwan is not the only country to make such grandiose statements in its civil defence handbooks. For years, Sweden was one of the few countries to openly express such a position. Consider the following text from the latest edition of Sweden’s civil defence handbook:

However noble such statements may appear, I would contend that such statements are irrational in much the same manner as Imperial Japan’s wartime “no surrender” policy. Surrender is always an option and in many cases becomes the residual least bad option, not least when the alternative is death. Telling the world—including your adversary—that you will never surrender makes for a grand statement, but may also (re)shape how your adversary will pursue its war.

For Sweden in the Cold War, the official “we will never surrender” position arguably made some sense. The most plausible scenario in which Sweden would face an invasion from the Soviet Union would be an all-out conflict between the Warsaw Pact and the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO) across Europe. Such a conflict would have likely seen the use of hundreds, if not thousands, of so-called “tactical” nuclear weapons against battlefield targets, airbases, and so forth, even if the Soviet Union and the United States did not target one another’s territory with so-called “strategic” nuclear weapons. The Swedish government’s objective was to avoid being caught up in such a conflict, and part of that entailed preparing Swedish society to, in effect, fight to the death to avoid being occupied and ultimately perhaps ruled by the Soviet Union. In the absence of Swedish nuclear weapons, Sweden’s “total defence” could serve as a deterrent against a Soviet invasion. It could not, of course, do anything to stop the Soviet Union from invading and occupying Norway or, perhaps more to the point, do anything to stop the Soviet Union, the United States, and their respective allies from turning Europe—perhaps the entire planet—into an unlivable post-nuclear hellscape.

Taiwan finds itself in a very different position than Sweden did in the Cold War—Sweden’s ongoing retention of such language makes little sense in the post-Cold War period, not least following the accession of both Sweden and Finland into NATO. While Taiwan does face an—politically—existential war with the People’s Republic of China, it does not face the oblivion of its population. Surrender is—and arguably must always remain absent a commitment to what amounts to a national suicide pact—an option. The best that Taiwan can do is to prepare itself such that Beijing decides against undertaking an invasion attempt or, failing that, ensuring that a Chinese invasion attempt fails. That requires real effort and the allocation of real resources, not cheap and irrational statements, as well as a deeply considered set of guidance and policies as to what is expected of Taiwan’s inhabitants in time of war and how they should and should not conduct themselves. The stakes are all too real and far too high for Taiwan to be cavalier about how the island country’s inhabitants should conduct themselves in time of war. Preparing for victory, mentally and otherwise, paradoxically requires open and meaningful discussions of what defeat entails and how defeat scenarios may play out.

This post is an extension of material that has appeared in another newsletter/section and other parts of my website more generally. While my newsletters/sections are primarily categorized by region—you can either subscribe to specific newsletters/sections or subscribe to the entire website/all of my writings—many posts can be readily placed in multiple newsletters/sections—but only appear in one newsletter/section given how the Substack platform is configured—and may be highly relevant to readers who are primarily interested in other parts of the world. Posts dealing with ongoing conflicts or advances in military technology, for example, may highlight developments and dynamics that may be be of consequence to other countries. Similarly, posts that deal with the military capabilities of one country may be relevant to readers who are primarily interested in the military capabilities of other countries. My Extensions themed posts will be used to highlight content that I think subscribers of other newsletters/sections may find interesting. I hope that my Extensions themed posts help rationalize my peculiar comparativist analytical approach, one that results in my website covering a very wide range of military-related topics and much of the world.

In several recent posts, I have highlighted the diminishing protection that foliage offers militaries since the advent of armed “first-person video” (“FPV”) multirotor drones of the fiber-optic cable communication uplink/downlink variety—as opposed to those of the radio frequency communication uplink/downlink variety. This is of particular relevance to Taiwan, given the existence of several fairly large tracts of quite dense vegetation along the island country’s west coast, to say nothing of its densely forested mountainous interior.

Should the People’s Liberation Army (PLA) establish a foothold along Taiwan’s western coastline, and should the PLA deploy some drone teams equipped with “FPV” multirotor drones of the fiber-optic cable communication uplink/downlink variety in particular—which are already part of the PLA arsenal—then Taiwan will be unable to turn to wooded areas as something of a sanctuary. PLA “FPV” multirotor drones of the fiber-optic cable uplink/downlink variety can be remotely flown in densely vegetated areas to locate Taiwanese ammunition storage, lower-echeleon command and control positions, armoured vehicles in hiding, and so forth. PLA “FPV” multirotor drones of the fiber-optic cable uplink/downlink variety may also be armed so as to directly attack such targets, as opposed to locating targets for attack by other means.

I have addressed the diminishing protection that foliage offers militaries in several recent posts:

The following post features ⚠️ combat footage ⚠️ from the Russia-Ukraine War. While the attached video found in this post does not feature gore, reading/viewing discretion is advised. I only upload combat footage for informational purposes. Posts featuring not safe for work (NSFW) content, including combat footage, will never be monetized/paid, subscriber-only posts.

Note: The following text was originally posted on my X/Twitter account.

A recent video draws attention to a seemingly new approach that Taiwan is pursuing with the aim of bolstering its coastal defences to defeat a People's Liberation Army (PLA) amphibious landing attempt on the island of Taiwan. While Taiwan has long deployed ground-launched anti-ship missiles of various types and will soon deploy a significantly expanded force of such missiles, these are large and heavy long-range anti-ship cruise missile designs that are optimized for use against larger surface ships, not small landing craft, small boats, and amphibious armoured vehicles approaching a landing zone. To counter such threats, which will be most salient in the event that Taiwan's aforementioned coastal defences fail to neutralize a PLA invasion fleet long before it reaches 10 or so kilometers from the Taiwanese coastline (excluding the Kinmen Islands, Matsu Islands, and Penghu Islands), Taiwan now appears to be pursuing a very different approach: employing inherently multi-purpose "anti-tank missiles" as a form of (very) short-range anti-ship missile against nearby targets. While many have pointed to this and other developments as indicators of how seriously and robustly Taiwan is preparing to defeat a PLA amphibious landing, there is less here than meets the eye.

A recent video shows a small white-coloured commercial truck—a vehicle that with very limited cross-country mobility—that is equipped with a single launcher for an American AGM-114 Hellfire family “anti-tank” missile. This "concealed" launcher vehicle is equipped with an elevated sensor mast that features a large electro-optical sensor ball that likely includes a laser designator alongside what is likely to be a short-range coastal search radar. When launched from ground level—the supersonic AGM-114 is primarily employed as an air-to-ground munition by helicopters and uncrewed fixed-wing aircraft—is limited to a maximum range of around eight kilometers.

The use of "anti-tank" missiles as multipurpose (very) short-range surface-to-surface missiles is not a new dynamic, and "anti-tank" missiles have long been used against small vessels. This notably includes Sweden's longstanding use of a version of the American AGM-114 Hellfire—the Robot 17—as a coastal defence munition (the Robot 17 has been transferred to Ukraine for use against both terrestrial and maritime targets in the Russia-Ukraine War). The Robot 17 is based on the semi-active laser homing (SALH) guidance version of the AGM-114—SALH munitions require the use of a laser designator to illuminate or “paint” the intended target until the time of impact, a dynamic which prevents a multi-target engagement capability. SALH anti-tank missiles, which are primarily employed as air-to-ground missiles, are well-suited for use as surface-to-surface missiles in a coastal defence role. The same cannot be said of wire-guided—using copper wire—semi-active command line of sight (SACLOS) anti-tank missile designs, which were previously the universal standard for both ground-launched and air-launched anti-tank missiles until the turn of the century. It bears emphasis that newer anti-tank missile designs—such as those that are fire-and-forget munitions equipped with imaging infrared seekers and those that are human-in-the-loop designs controlled via a fiber optic cable—are far more suitable for use in a coastal defence role, as are anti-tank missiles using SACLOS laser beam-riding guidance—which should not be confused with SALH—more generally.

The American-built AGM-114 Hellfire family missile seen in the video is not a variant equipped with SALH guidance—most AGM-114 Hellfire family missiles built and used to date use SALH guidance— but the AGM-114L Longbow, which is equipped with an active radar homing millimeter-wave radar seeker. Originally developed for use alongside the AH-64D version of the Apache attack helicopter—which is equipped with a Ka-band AN/APG-78 Longbow fire control radar on top of the main rotor—as a fire-and-forget anti-tank missile as a means of stopping large-scale Soviet mechanized assaults, the AGM-114L has over the past decade found a new purpose as a fire-and-forget air-to-air munition for use against propeller-driven strike drones such as the Iranian Shahed-136 and similar.

Taiwan uses the radar-guided AGM-114L and SALH versions of the AGM-114 family more generally with its American-built AH-64E and AH-1W attack helicopters. Given that it is being launched from essentially zero elevation above ground level and at zero airspeed, the truck-launched AGM-114L will have a reduced maximum range when compared to an AGM-114L launched from an attack helicopter (several sections of the Taiwanese coastline do, however, feature hills/high elevation terrain that will result in an extended maximum range). Notwithstanding the use of a fairly modest elevating mast, the small radar antenna and the large sensor ball that are installed on the "concealed" commercial truck-based launcher are both line-of-sight systems and similarly have a reduced maximum range. As a result, the practical maximum range of this ground-launched AGM-114L against the smallest targets—small boats, amphibious armoured vehicles, and similar—is likely to be closer to 5 kilometers or so than the nominal maximum range of 8 kilometers when launched from an aircraft in flight.

Given the likely reduction in maximum range resulting from launch at ~zero elevation above ground level and at zero airspeed, Taiwan is likely better off employing a different missile(s) as a (very) short-range coastal defence munition. It bears emphasis that the AGM-114L is expensive and only available in limited quantities. The AGM-114 family missiles are also larger and heavier than they need to be for this (very) short-range coastal defence role. Weighing just under 50 kilograms and equipped with an 8-9 kilogram warhead—primarily of the tandem shaped charge variety, the supersonic AGM-114 family are highly optimized toward penetrating the armour of the most heavily armoured tanks from any aspect. Note that the supersonic maximum speed is not an inexpensive design characteristic without tradeoffs and is best rationalized in terms of a reduced time-to-target for an air-launched missile launched from a vulnerable and necessarily exposed attack helicopter.

Human-portable anti-tank missiles, which are subsonic designs, tend to have warheads that weigh no more than half as much as the AGM-114 family but are nevertheless capable of penetrating the armour of most heavily armoured vehicles. In many respects, the AGM-114 family is poorly optimized for the purposes of—is excessive for the purposes of—defeating a PLA amphibious invasion. China’s amphibious armoured vehicles have very modest armour and do not require such a large and heavy anti-tank missile design. China’s most heavily armoured vehicles—its tanks—are not amphibious. Employing an AGM-114 family missile against a small assault boat is not only overkill, but there are likely to be a lot more assault boats than vehicles in the water—many more targets than there are likely to AGM-114L missiles available for launch. At the same time, Chinese landing craft tend to be so large that an AGM-114 family missile, especially one equipped with a 9 tandem shaped charge warhead that has a very concentrated kinetic effect perpendicular to the warhead, is inadequate to cripple or sink the landing craft. Furthermore, the AGM-114 has such a limited maximum range, especially when launched from ~zero elevation above ground level and at zero airspeed, that it strains credulity that a Taiwanese "concealed" truck launcher such as the one seen in the video can casually linger within five or so kilometers of a PLA landing zone. While the commercial truck-based launcher is “concealed” in the sense that it will blend in with nearby civilian trucks, Taiwanese planners need to consider the possibility that the PLA will target every moving or parked vehicle within a 5-10 kilometer radius—if not a larger radius—of a PLA landing zone before/as PLA forces are approaching said landing zone.

It is also important to note that the launcher seen in the video is seemingly limited to launching one AGM-114L missile at a time. Each AH-64D attack helicopter can carry up to eight AGM-114L missiles per sortie. As a result, a two-helicopter AH-64D formation can, in principle, neutralize a company-sized mechanized formation, while a six-helicopter AH-64D formation can, in principle, neutralize a battalion-sized mechanized formation. While AH-64D attack helicopters can do much the same using SALH versions of the AGM-114 missile family, the more expensive AGM-114L—which is equipped with an active millimeter-wave radar seeker—is a fire-and-forget munition of which multiple specimens can be rapidly launched, thereby allowing the attack helicopter pilot to rapidly descend in altitude to avoid becoming the target of the short-range air defence systems that accompanied Soviet mechanized units.

The issue with the “concealed” launch vehicle seen in the video is that “concealment” is only practical and credible if there are not many such vehicles located near PLA amphibious landing zones. If, however, Taiwan is going to park a dozen or so such vehicles near a PLA amphibious landing zone in order to launch a suitably large number of AGM-114L missiles in short order—which it must given the (very) short-range of the likes of the AGM-114L—there will likely be such an unusually high concentration of such trucks around 5 kilometers or so of a PLA amphibious landing zone that the PLA planners will have to be reckless and/or stupid not to identify and counter this threat. Note that this dynamic will remain relevant even if the truck launchers are not coloured white, even if these are covered with camouflage netting and so forth. The AGM-114 missile family simply has inadequate range, not least when launched from the ground, for this purpose—a longer-range missile can be launched from a greater radius from a PLA landing zone and, as such, will be more difficult for the PLA to identify and target before suitable targets come within range of the Taiwanese coastal defence munition(s).

Much more can be said about the employment of "anti-tank" missiles as (very) short-range coastal defence munitions and Taiwan's options for coastal defence and defeating a PLA amphibious invasion attempt once it reaches Taiwan's coastline more generally. Suffice it to say, there is less in the way of credible military capabilities on display in this video than meets the eye.