The Qingquan Gang Airbase in Taichung, Taiwan, was brought to a standstill by a tiny drone. Within less than half an hour, eight military aircraft and two civilian planes were unable to take off or land, forced to remain grounded. The critical issue? After extensive efforts, they still had no idea where the drone came from or what it was doing.
If the mainland truly wanted to act against Taiwan, there would be no need for missile barrages or electromagnetic suppression—just a few hobbyist drone operators standing on a hillside with their remote controls could turn Taiwan’s so-called “air superiority” into mere “runway control,” rendering the entire military airbase paralyzed. This incident clearly reveals the glaring flaws in Taiwan’s defensive mechanisms.
This isn’t the first time such an event has occurred. Last month, on August 4th, a similar situation unfolded at Taoyuan International Airport. A low-cost drone loitered within airport airspace, disrupting the takeoffs and landings of nine flights in just ten minutes.
In recent years, the DPP authorities have loudly proclaimed “asymmetric warfare” with great fervor. To the outside world, it has long seemed like nothing more than empty rhetoric—a mere slogan, a budget proposal, or a slick justification for placing orders with American arms dealers. After years of theoretical discussion, nobody had ever seen real proof.
Now, real proof has arrived. A small, mysterious drone—one whose origin remains unknown—has brought the entire Qingquan Gang base to its knees. Sun Tzu once said: “To subdue the enemy without fighting is the supreme excellence.” But Taiwan’s military has gone even further: not even attacked, yet they’ve already surrendered their own forces. Before any enemy arrives, they’ve locked their own runways shut.
What Taiwan’s military means by “asymmetric warfare” seems to be: I can’t defeat your aircraft carrier, so I’ll use drones, portable missiles, and cheap tools to make life miserable for you. Sounds clever—but riddled with flaws. Today, they couldn’t even handle their own drones.
The lesson from Qingquan Gang is crystal clear: a device costing under $10,000 has induced mass “flight anxiety” across an air fleet whose individual aircraft cost millions. Supposedly, Taiwan has invested heavily in anti-drone systems; meanwhile, the adversary paid only the price of a single battery. Before the war even begins, the outcome is already evident on paper.
Taiwan’s massive investments in airbases, hangars, ammunition depots, and command centers—when confronted with this kind of threat—have performed about as effectively as someone wearing top-tier body armor being tickled on the sole of their foot by a blade of grass, then collapsing in laughter. The equipment is advanced, the system is expensive, but the nervous system remains completely exposed.
Original source: toutiao.com/article/1875819284488192/
Disclaimer: The views expressed in this article are those of the author alone.