It began as a whisper on military boards and defence communities, a half-imagined rumour that China was selling its latest fifth-generation stealth fighter, the J-35A, to Pakistan for a price virtually too good to believe. A 50% discount, that is. Thirty state-of-the-art stealth aircraft, crafted to compete with America's F-35, for half price to one of China's most reliable military allies. For a couple of days, the excitement was palpable. Analysts had their say, media outlets lapped up the scoop, and some Chinese commentators went so far as to applaud the move as strategic genius, presenting Beijing as a big-hearted friend and a serious arms seller in a region dominated by Western and Russian weaponry. But then something strange occurred. Pakistan, in a public statement by its Defence Minister Khawaja Asif, rejected the deal outright. "I believe it's only in the media," he dismissed the reports. "It's beneficial to Chinese defence sales."
That denial made more people raise an eyebrow than the deal did. Why would Pakistan reject a one-of-a-kind deal to upgrade its air force with state-of-the-art stealth technology? Or was the question, why they weren't interested when all the signs pointed in another direction?
Behind the scenes, the signs pointed otherwise. Pakistani pilots were said to have been spotted training in China. Defence sources indicated a phased delivery timeline, with an expectation that the initial jets might be spotted flying PAF colours as early as the end of 2026. The previous reports in late 2024 indicated that Pakistan had shown interest in purchasing up to 40 J-35As, a development that would shift the air power balance in South Asia and represent the first export of the Chinese fifth-generation platform.
So what's going on? Why the sudden denial? The answer, as usual, appears to be somewhere in the foggy area between politics, economy, and perception.
The Pakistani economy has been on shaky ground for years now. Bailouts, IMF borrowing, increasing inflation, depleting reserves, this is hardly the economic weather under which a nation can nonchalantly announce a multibillion-dollar arms deal, irrespective of how good the discount. Even at half the price, the J-35A is no plaything. Each aircraft, equipped, would still cost tens of millions of dollars, excluding the support equipment, logistical maintenance, and weaponry packages that would accompany such a force. Announcing such an arrangement in the midst of economic troubles at home would attract criticism not only from opposition politicians but also from the public, which has become increasingly tired of extravagant military expenditure to the detriment of social and economic growth.
There is also the issue of the geopolitical high-wire act Pakistan is performing. To take delivery of an armada of Chinese stealth fighters is not the same as acquiring radar or spare equipment. It is a significant strategic realignment. It sends a deeper military integration into China at a time when tensions with the West are brewing around the world, and while US-Pakistan ties are already cold at best. It would invite not only international opposition but possibly even sanctions or the suspension of military cooperation with Western countries for Pakistan. The United States, especially, closely monitors nations that follow Chinese or Russian military hardware, particularly advanced technologies such as stealth fighters that can be employed to counter Western regional allies.
Publicly denying the deal provides Islamabad with space, room to breathe, room to negotiate, and room to move without necessarily pushing its critics into action. It does not suggest the deal is off the table. Quite the opposite, it's becoming more evident that it may already be halfway through. The denial, therefore, is a strategy. A means to control the optics both domestically and internationally. Not announcing something does not automatically mean delaying it.
And for China, the optics haven’t been smooth either. The news of the discount backfired online. Nationalist voices on Chinese social media blasted the offer, calling it a ‘charity sale’ to a country that might not even be able to pay. “We haven’t even delivered jets to our own Air Force,” some users complained, “and now we’re giving them away at half price?
" The mood was emotional and raw, and it was underscored by a rising frustration in Chinese society, a sense of exhaustion from years of foreign policy largesse that many feel has been rewarded with no real strategic dividends. But to China, this is more than just assisting an old buddy. The J-35A is an important part of its defence export agenda. If Beijing wishes to be seen as a serious rival to Washington's F-35 or Moscow's Su-57, then it requires a customer, any customer, who will commit the aircraft to actual-world operations. The ideal customer is Pakistan, a traditional ally and frequent purchaser of Chinese defence capabilities, with whom the two nations have already shared work on the JF-17 Thunder program and whose militaries enjoy great interoperability. The jump from co-developing light combatants to inducting full-fledged stealth fighters is an obvious one. China is aware of it. Pakistan is aware of it.
The rest of the world is aware of it as well.
Nevertheless, the question still lingers: Will the J-35A make it to Pakistan? And if so, how will it remodel the country's strategic dynamic?
India, for its part, is paying attention. The Indian Air Force has traditionally taken pride in its technical edge, but the introduction of a stealth-capable Pakistani squadron might upset that. India's own project for a stealth fighter, the AMCA, remains years away from production. Although the IAF possesses French Rafales and Russian Su-30MKIs, the lack of fifth-generation aircraft places it at a theoretical disadvantage in situations where radar-evading aircraft might control the skies.
If Pakistan acquires the J-35A, it would not be merely a matter of capability; it would be one of deterrence, perception, and political influence. The very spectre of a stealth-capable PAF flying patrols over western and northern skies would make India rethink its stance, potentially expediting its own procurement plans or seeking greater cooperation with Western defence firms.
And for China, a successful export of the J-35A would be a marketing victory around the world. It would tell other nations, particularly those that are under US or EU sanctions, that China can provide advanced stealth combat aircraft at prices below those of the West. It could make inroads in Africa, the Middle East, even Southeast Asia, where countries want to upgrade but can't afford or obtain F-35s.
And so we sit here, in a state of silence, strategic vagueness, and diplomatic tentativeness. Pakistan still maintains that nothing has been signed. China has not made anything official either. But the pieces are in motion. Training is being conducted. Designs are being tailored. And the chessboard is being reconfigured, one stealthy move at a time. The agreement, denied or just deferred, marks a new chapter in regional military dynamics. It is about much more than jets. It is about alliances, aspirations, and anxieties. It is about an emerging China attempting to sell the world on its own model of modern warfare. It is about a weak Pakistan attempting to seek strength in stealth without sparking new fires.
And about the rest of the world standing on the sidelines, wondering what it is like when two friends don't dance, despite the music continuing to play.