If you’ve been observing the game of global power from the sidelines, you know there are several places that are more than a spot on the map—places that keep generals, diplomats, and even presidents up at night. One such place is the Bagram Air Base in Afghanistan. Where it had been the center of US military operations here, now Bagram is a representation of altered fortunes, of strained ties, and of the looming shadow of great power competition.
It is a representation of hubris, defeat, and immutable forces of geography. It was constructed in the 1950s by the Soviets and remained the largest US base in Afghanistan with a runway that could handle everything from bombers to gigantic cargo planes. It was where everything from counter-terrorism operations to humanitarian airlifts departed for two decades. But when America quit in 2021, it transferred the base to the Afghan state—so the Taliban could stroll back in once more again as the state fell apart. The transition was chaotic, and symbolism too great: a withdrawing superpower, a new-ancient power stepping into the vacuum, and a strategic spoils to be taken.
And now to the day, and Bagram’s making headlines once more. President Trump has never hesitated to state that he would like to have U.S. sovereignty over the base restored. Discussing the press conference with British Prime Minister Keir Starmer, Trump described Bagram as “one of the world’s biggest airbases,” bemoaning that it had “been given away for nothing” and that it was comparative closeness to “where China makes its nuclear weapons.” Donald Trump explained that: “We’re trying to get it back because they have something that they want from us. We’d like to have the base again. But one of the things we’d like the base is, as you know, an hour from where China makes its nuclear weapons.” The message could not be clearer: Bagram has nothing to do with Afghanistan anymore—it is everything to do with China, and therefore the future of global power.
Why is Bagram casting such a long shadow across China’s horizon? For that matter, geography is destiny. Bagram is just 500 miles from China’s Xinjiang province, where a series of quickly rising nuclear missile silos and China’s notorious Lop Nur test range are situated. The Pentagon has been forecasting Chinese nuclear expansion, asserting that the People’s Liberation Army Rocket Force is deploying several hundred new silos and that China’s inventory of nuclear warheads has expanded to over 600 and will expand to over 1,000 by 2030. To be so close to fight as an staging base from whence to observe, deter, or respond to Chinese nuclear acquisition is a value not so much subject to exaggeration.
But the value of Bagram goes much beyond China. The facility has potential as a staging ground for counterterrorism operations against such organizations as ISIS-K, al Qaeda, and Tehreek-e-Taliban Pakistan (TTP), all of which were supplied with new lifelines by post-withdrawal instability in Afghanistan. As the Orion Policy Institute has put it, “Reclaiming control of Bagram Air Base would be at the center of U.S. defenses against such organizations as a regional military hub.” The United States has depended on foreign bases long enough when trying to project power and respond quickly to crises, and the strategic location of Bagram on the border of South and Central Asia is of special interest to both the intelligence and military communities.
Desiring Bagram and receiving Bagram are, naturally, two distinct proposals. The Taliban that governs today’s Afghanistan reacted similarly. Trump’s accusation of Chinese occupation was minimized by Taliban spokesman Zabihullah Mujahid who stated the airbase remained Afghan-controlled, not Chinese. Another Taliban spokesman, Zakir Jalaly, has proposed that Afghanistan and the United States may have economic and political ties based on respect for each other, “the Afghans have not accepted a military presence in history, and this possibility was completely rejected during the Doha talks and agreement.” Zakir Jalaly states: “The Afghans have not accepted a military presence in history, and this possibility was completely rejected during the Doha talks and agreement, but the door is open for further interaction.” The message of the Taliban: no boots on the ground, but possibly a handshake at the negotiating table.
This stand-off is in the context of home-country sabre-rattling that would make the best master chess grandmasters break a sweat. China is watching in the meantime. Beijing brushed aside reports of Chinese presence at Bagram, but satellite imagery and anecdotal evidence of enhanced infrastructure cast doubt over China’s intentions. The fact that it is close to Xinjiang, a region Beijing is set on keeping peaceful and quiet, gives the base its base value as an eye in the sky and a hammer to swing. Russia, Pakistan, and Iran are all each some ephemeral second thoughts on their part but keep watch over both Taliban whim and potential American back to play.
The Bagram facilities are another wild card. As maneuvering is political, the American contractors have come in quietly behind the scenes to keep and improve sections of the base. Utility network, drainage system, and barracks contracts indicate a readiness to get started when ready. The US defense appropriations, goaded by the One Big Beautiful Bill Act, squandered billions on shared air and missile defense—a sum that can just as easily be extracted from the pockets of a revived Bagram were only the permutations successful.
There is risk in every act. Redeployment of an American military presence to Bagram would likely be seen by the Taliban as a violation of the 2020 Doha Agreement and would risk more war and destabilization of whatever small peace there is. It would also potentially contribute to the establishment of tension with regional powers, especially if they perceive Bagram as an American listening post or intervention point. As it does this, the strategic advantages—halting China’s advance, steadying terror, and assuring American dominance in a part of the world where rivals are making gains—are difficult for Washington to overlook.
Bagram Air Base is more than a monument to the war of the past. It’s a challenge in the new great-power competition, a challenge of American will, and a reminder that geopolitics reminds us the better things are most difficult to hold on to. The choices that come next in this high-stakes game will not only decide Afghanistan’s fate, but Central Asia’s balance of power, and the world as a whole.
