Large numbers of Chinese warships and warplanes are conducting military activities around Taiwan this summer as part of a long-running intimidation campaign. With the People’s Liberation Army (PLA) venturing ever closer to Taiwanese territory, the risks associated with hostile incursions are growing. Taiwan’s fighter pilots and ship captains are being put to the test like never before. Less visible, but no less important, are the soldiers and marines who stand watch on Taiwan’s outer islands just off the coast of China.
What role do forward deployed forces play in Taiwan’s defense strategy? Why are these remote island outposts worth defending? It starts with the three “Gs.”
Visit any highly secure facility and you will see the three “Gs” in action: guns, guards, and gates. This trio is foundational to the physical protection plan of sensitive sites worldwide, places such as intelligence hubs and military command bunkers.
Here’s how it works. First, imposing walls or fences are built to surround the area in question. Next, traffic is channeled through fortified gates. Finally, guards with guns check credentials and filter out those who might pose a danger to the people and classified equipment inside. Often you will only see a few guards on duty at each gate. Could they be overrun by a large and determined group of bad guys? Of course. Does it follow, then, that the area is not actually secure? Of course not. Perimeter guards are backstopped by larger units who will flood onto the scene the moment an alarm is triggered. The three “Gs” system is popular because it works.
Taiwan’s national defense layout follows the same basic principle. The outer islands of Kinmen, Matsu, and Dongyin are located approximately 190km (100 nautical miles) west of the shores of Taiwan. Each island cluster is like a heavy gate and observation post, monitoring the shipping lanes into and out of southeastern China’s natural harbors, bays, and ports — the very places where PLA troops would need to assemble and load aboard ships before an assault on Taiwan.
Taken as a whole, the offshore islands represent a critical defensive perimeter, giving Taiwan warning time, tactical flexibility, and strategic depth. But like any first line of defense, it is far from impregnable. In the supreme emergency, the elite soldiers and marines stationed on these rocks are expected to fight independently, without resupply. Their mission is to defend themselves and hold out for as long as possible — while doing as much damage to the enemy as possible — thereby buying time for Taiwan to prepare for a coming invasion.
A few of the island citadels have significant firepower, including long-range air defense missiles, anti-ship missiles, and land attack missiles. Perhaps most notable is the Ray-Ting 2000 (Thunderbolt 2000), a wheeled multiple-launch rocket system, which can fire simultaneous volleys of guided munitions and shotgun-like projectiles filled with tens of thousands of ball bearings.
If necessary, batteries of missiles and rocket artillery could shred PLA staging areas around Xiamen and Fuzhou — the closest Chinese launch pads for an amphibious attack on Taiwan. The Taiwanese military hides its big guns inside warrens of deep tunnels and hardened bunkers, so they can still fight under intense bombardment.
Dr. Toshi Yoshihara, author of the book Mao’s Army Goes to Sea: The Island Campaigns and the Founding of China’s Navy, observes that Taiwan’s outlying islands have an outsized influence on the thinking of Chinese war planners. Yoshihara points out that “the PLA considers its armies’ offshore operations the seedlings of Chinese naval doctrine.” Indeed, Chinese military textbooks such as Informatized Joint Operations and Taiwan Strait Military Geography portray Taiwan’s outer perimeter as a dagger pointed at the throat of their invasion plans. According to them, as long as the Taiwanese hold these islands, they could launch devastating surprise attacks on any fleets the PLA assembled, sinking valuable amphibious ships and drowning storm troops before they even had a chance to get underway.
Because Taiwan’s outer islands are so close to the People’s Republic of China physically and economically (and sometimes also politically), it’s easy to see them as a liability. Since the 1990s, they have been demined and demilitarized. Once home to over one hundred thousand troops, the local garrisons have been reduced to a total of less than 5,000 defenders, approximately two percent of Taiwan’s active-duty military.
Today the PLA could launch an overwhelming wave of attacks and seize most of the outer islands with little notice. Xi Jinping (習近平) and his generals in Beijing may be in the process of considering the feasibility of just such an operation. In September 2022, Taiwanese troops shot down a Chinese drone hovering over a military base in the Kinmen islands. Earlier this year, two submarine cables across the Taiwan Strait were cut by PRC vessels in mysterious circumstances, causing a temporary internet blackout on Matsu. PLA units are reportedly expanding their coastal bases directly across from Kinmen and Matsu and conducting frequent amphibious drills. Such activity could be interpreted as a precursor to conflict and warning sign.
If Taiwan’s outer islands have become tempting targets, they don’t have to stay that way. Taiwan could deploy more crack troops to augment its island garrisons and arm them with thousands of smart mines, loitering munitions, and lethal drones. General Mick Ryan, author of the new novel White Sun War: The Campaign for Taiwan, offers readers an excellent mental map for envisioning how human-machine teaming approaches and futuristic defense networks might work in practice.
It is the considered opinion of many senior military commanders and intelligence chiefs that there might exist the possibility of a Taiwan invasion by 2027. Some say much sooner. By bolstering its frontline islands, perhaps Taipei could help convince Beijing to change course and preserve the long peace that has richly benefitted peoples on both sides of the Strait.
Ian Easton is a senior director at the Project 2049 Institute and the author of The Chinese Invasion Threat: Taiwan’s Defense and American Strategy in Asia.
In the past month, two important developments are poised to equip Taiwan with expanded capabilities to play foreign policy offense in an age where Taiwan’s diplomatic space is seriously constricted by a hegemonic Beijing. Taiwan Foreign Minister Lin Chia-lung (林佳龍) led a delegation of Taiwan and US companies to the Philippines to promote trilateral economic cooperation between the three countries. Additionally, in the past two weeks, Taiwan has placed chip export controls on South Africa in an escalating standoff over the placing of its diplomatic mission in Pretoria, causing the South Africans to pause and ask for consultations to resolve
An altercation involving a 73-year-old woman and a younger person broke out on a Taipei MRT train last week, with videos of the incident going viral online, sparking wide discussions about the controversial priority seats and social norms. In the video, the elderly woman, surnamed Tseng (曾), approached a passenger in a priority seat and demanded that she get up, and after she refused, she swung her bag, hitting her on the knees and calves several times. In return, the commuter asked a nearby passenger to hold her bag, stood up and kicked Tseng, causing her to fall backward and
In December 1937, Japanese troops captured Nanjing and unleashed one of the darkest chapters of the 20th century. Over six weeks, hundreds of thousands were slaughtered and women were raped on a scale that still defies comprehension. Across Asia, the Japanese occupation left deep scars. Singapore, Malaya, the Philippines and much of China endured terror, forced labor and massacres. My own grandfather was tortured by the Japanese in Singapore. His wife, traumatized beyond recovery, lived the rest of her life in silence and breakdown. These stories are real, not abstract history. Here is the irony: Mao Zedong (毛澤東) himself once told visiting
When I reminded my 83-year-old mother on Wednesday that it was the 76th anniversary of the founding of the People’s Republic of China, she replied: “Yes, it was the day when my family was broken.” That answer captures the paradox of modern China. To most Chinese in mainland China, Oct. 1 is a day of pride — a celebration of national strength, prosperity and global stature. However, on a deeper level, it is also a reminder to many of the families shattered, the freedoms extinguished and the lives sacrificed on the road here. Seventy-six years ago, Chinese Communist leader Mao Zedong (毛澤東)
RSS