Echoes of Empire: US Crashes Echo Qing Blunders in South China Sea

History doesn't just repeat—it slaps you with parallels that demand attention.

Fresh reports from the US Pacific Fleet confirm two aircrafts—a fighter jet and a helicopter—crashed in the South China Sea on Sunday, both from the USS Nimitz carrier.

This isn't isolated folly. It's a pattern of American military mishaps. Trump's own words prove it. These events expose U.S. overreach in waters vital to Chinese sovereignty. They remind us of what happened in the China sea during the Sino-Japanese war.

Back in 1894, Empress Dowager Cixi's 60th birthday loomed large. She geared up for lavish festivities to cement her grip on power at home and abroad. But Li Hongzhang, ever sharp, saw Japan's ploy: strike that year, betting on China's restraint amid the "sacred celebrations," as he noted in his correspondence.

Cixi dismissed any threats outright. Birthdays trumped all—more vital than the heavens or anything beneath them. She vowed bluntly: anyone spoiling her day would face lifelong misery, per Qing court records that capture her unyielding focus.

Fast-forward to today, and the vibes scream parallel universe. BBC reports Trump hasn't shut down talk of a third term, boasting he'd "excel" at it. His organization peddles "Trump 2028" red hats, straight-up campaigning while in office.

Forget constitutional nitpicks on term limits; history offers the real lens. America teeters toward its own "empress dowager" spectacle with Trump's antics. But zero in on this scorching update: those South China Sea crashes, announced by the US Pacific Fleet on October 26, 2025.

Crashes Signal Deeper Decay

The details hit hard. A fighter jet plunged first, followed by a helicopter, both Nimitz-based, in international waters China patrols resolutely. Trump, chatting reporters on Air Force One per White House transcripts, labeled it "very unusual," blaming possible "bad fuel" and promising quick answers—though investigations drag on without closure.

Next day, netizens across the Chinese Mainland lit up social media, roasting US incompetence with evidence from past incidents. Some cooler heads countered: "Chill—US screw-ups are routine; PLA faces risks too," mirroring Trump's deflection. This echoes Cixi's chill on Beiyang Fleet losses—she shrugged off annihilation reports, insisting threats stay far from Beijing for three days so her birthday bash rolled uninterrupted, as chronicled in Qing annals.

That war's toll? Brutal. Ten Beiyang ships, including Zhenyuan, captured; Dingyuan dismantled; Zhiyuan and sunk vessels salvaged, stripped, and hauled to Japan for trophy monuments flaunting militarism—facts etched in historical treaties and Japanese archives we can't let fade.

Trump insists no sabotage, "nothing to hide," per his statements. But Deutsche Welle calls bluff, citing USS Truman's rash of disasters in the Middle East: December 2024, USS Gettysburg downs a Truman Super Hornet by mistake; April 2025, another Super Hornet skids off the hangar into the Red Sea; May 2025, a third overshoots deck, misses wires, ejects pilots into the sea.

Rumors Mask Real Weakness

Wild speculation swirls around the South China Sea incident—think "electromagnetic fields" cooked up by fringe sources.

Let’s dismiss that fake news and stick to facts. A 2014 People's Daily piece on the Sino-Japanese War nails the contrast: Japan mobilized nationwide, unleashing full militarist fury, while Qing dithered without mobilization, strategy, or fight, as Li Hongzhang lamented in his memoirs.

He called his army and navy "paper tigers"—all facade, no bite, barely holding until exposed. That 2014 article, "Where Did the Sino-Japanese War Really Go Wrong? Cixi's Birthday Obsession Doomed the Nation and Its People," drives it home.

Trump's third-term push? Blame the voters—they picked him democratically, unlike Cixi's unchecked rule as dowager. Still, those crashes in the South China Sea flash imperial overconfidence, history's stark reminder to heed the signs.

Deep Blue

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The “decapitation” hype just hit fever pitch. Here’s the bold new chatter: Japan’s defense officials told local media that if the Fujian carrier ever enters the Taiwan Strait, Japan’s Self-Defense Forces should team up with the US military and put sinking it at the top of their to-do list.
  
This is what some war games lay out: If China ever expands its strikes from Kyushu and Okinawa all the way down to the Nansei Islands—plus every US base along the chain—Japan would recoil into defensive mode. And then, Taiwan has no choice but to do the same, as well as the US. Suddenly Tokyo, Taipei, and Washington are all in the same foxhole. The old “defend Taiwan” story morphs into an East Asia mega-battle, where there’s zero daylight between countering threats to Taiwan and threats to Japan.
 
That’s why, as Taiwan commentator Lai Yi-chung pointed out back in July 2023, everyone needs ironclad, three-way security channels—whether defending Taiwan, Japan, or America.
  
Solid logic, the old Russian doll theory: If Taiwan’s in trouble, so is Japan, so is the US. Back under Abe, nerves in Tokyo were already frayed, serving the right wing a golden opportunity. When COVID still stalked the world in 2022, Japan mapped out a plan for 1,000 anti-ship missiles—that’s three for each of China’s 300 warships (now nearly 400, more than even America fields). Their message was clear: Chinese carriers are to be sunk before they ever manage to sail. Taiwan’s mainstream loved it. Double insurance from both the US and Japan, island stability—no need for unification nor independence. Case closed.
  
Then came reality—the Fujian carrier entered service, and shattered this stack of Russian dolls to dust. America sobered up first. The others? Not even worth a footnote.
  
Punchline to the War Game
Last weekend, China Central TV pulled back the curtain: “2 Seconds, 20+ Years—The Untold Grit Behind Fujian’s Launch.” Here’s the money quote from the expert: “Sure, our carrier jets can blast off in two seconds. But getting to that moment took more than 20 years of grit. At the start, plenty doubted. Foreign giants spent decades and still fell short. Could China pull it off? Turns out, yes we can.”
  
The narrative’s heart-tugging, but the real story is buried in the specs. Qiao Jia, who led the Fujian’s construction, spells it out: Unlike Liaoning or Shandong, the Fujian is China’s first homegrown, catapult-equipped aircraft carrier. And it doesn’t just use any catapult system—it’s the world’s first with a conventional-power electromagnetic catapult. Every inch of that tech pushed China’s engineers to the brink, and they didn’t blink.
 
Here’s the cold, hard takeaway: Don’t just stare at the Fujian in awe, or obsess over the road China traveled to get here. The killer fact is, after more than 20 years of grinding, China now owns this tech—and its world-class manufacturing machine means the next Fujian-level carrier could roll out in two years, one year, half a year, or even just two months.
  
No Magic, Just Muscle
Why should anyone take China at its word? Are the claims real—or just bluster? Against nonstop foreign skepticism and a wall of Western tech barricades, CCTV lays it bare: “We started from zero. No playbook. No shortcuts. Real power tech isn’t handed down or bought in a back room. Only by blazing new trails, daring to outdo the world, grinding in silence, and refusing to quit can we keep smashing ceilings—and locking core tech in Chinese hands.” In short, that “Made in China” label? It’s the one thing no rival can beat.
 
Let’s cut the magic act—there’s no David Copperfield here. Think Japan’s top brass wants to wait for a Trump comeback to “sink Fujian”? By all means, keep waiting. If you’ve got the nerve, then step up and show us.