What to watch at China’s massive military parade

Banners of crimson and gold will ripple across Beijing’s Chang’an Avenue this morning, but in a quiet living room in Gżira, Joseph Xuereb is already reaching for the remote. “Every parade is different,” the retired AFM sergeant says, settling into the sofa beside his wife Li—a Beijing native whose parents once marched in the 1959 anniversary. Their bilingual breakfast table, littered with pastizzi and jasmine tea, is Malta’s tiny echo of a spectacle that will draw one billion television eyes.

For most Maltese, China’s 75th National Day parade is just another feed on the six o’clock news. Yet scratch the surface and the island is surprisingly wired into the drama. At MCAST’s Paola campus, engineering students are live-streaming the aerial segment to study drone formations they hope to adapt for the upcoming Malta International Airshow. In Valletta’s Is-Suq tal-Belt, manager Mei Zhang will dim the lights at her dumpling stall and beam the parade on a side-wall projector—“a taste of home for tourists and a curiosity for locals,” she laughs.

What to watch for, then, if you’re tuning in between a morning swim at St George’s Bay and your afternoon kinnie?

First, count the missiles. Defence analysts expect the debut of the Dongfeng-41 intercontinental ballistic missile, capable of reaching Europe in 30 minutes. Malta’s tiny but strategic perch in the Med makes that trajectory more than academic. “We host EU and NATO assets in our ports,” notes Dr Maria Camilleri, lecturer in International Relations at the University of Malta. “Any shift in global deterrence ripples into our maritime security discussions, especially as the EU eyes alternatives to Suez.”

Second, look for the colour guard that marches in sea-blue uniforms. These are the People’s Liberation Army Navy troops who trained last month with the 30-strong Maltese detachment on exchange at China’s naval academy in Dalian. Lieutenant Karl Pace, currently aboard the patrol boat P62, sent his parents a WhatsApp voice note: “If you spot the tall guy on the right flank, that’s my roommate Chen. Tell Nanna to wave.”

Third, follow the floats—yes, floats. After the tanks roll past, civilian tableaux celebrate “One Belt One Road”. Watch for a miniature Gwadar port, but also a stylised map of the Mediterranean with a glowing Malta dot. Chinese state media hinted the island will be showcased as the “gateway to Europe”, a nod to the 2019 memorandum that saw Shanghai Electric take a 33% stake in Enemalta. Labour MP Omar Farrugia, fresh from a trade mission to Chengdu, says the imagery is deliberate. “We’re no longer just a flag of convenience; we’re a logistics story they want to tell.”

Cultural beats matter too. The parade’s musical soundtrack will blend military brass with a riff on the ancient melody “Jasmine Flower”. In Malta, that tune has its own afterlife: local band Red Electric released a lo-fi cover last week, sampling Erhu strings recorded in Rabat. Their Spotify streams spiked 400% after Chinese TikTokers discovered it under the hashtag #MaltaMeetsBeijing.

Back in Gżira, Joseph and Li aren’t just spectators—they’re translators. Their teenage twins stream the event on Discord for classmates at St Aloysius College, overlaying Maltese subtitles. “They asked why Chinese soldiers goose-step,” Li chuckles. “I told them it’s like our festa brass bands—precision is pride.”

By the time the last jet leaves coloured smoke above Tiananmen, Malta’s links to the distant parade will keep spiralling. The students will tweak their drone code; the Is-Suq stall will serve celebratory duck bao; the Pace family will freeze-frame the march on TV, spotting Chen’s grin. And somewhere on the Sliema ferries, a commuter scrolling Twitter will see the headline: “Malta featured in China’s global dream.” For a small island, that’s a very big screen.