The consistency of the Chinese party-state

The CCP is more like a machine than a political party. No party can stop it. Only a more powerful machine.

For those who want a more in depth exploration of this topic, please see my podcast and accompanying Youtube video!

Though I do like to keep this newsletter focused on fresh topics, I also like the occasional stroll down memory lane to remind myself how we got to where we are today. Now that Donald Trump has been reelected as the President of the United States, I thought we could revisit a very important event that took place a few years ago.

In 2018, the delegates of China’s National People's Congress voted to abolish presidential term limits, meaning that incumbent Xi Jinping would be allowed to remain president for life. Implied was the fact that he would be able to remain in his other ruling positions – general secretary of the CCP and head of the military – for life too, and many outlets had fun dubbing him China’s new emperor.

In general, Xi Jinping’s rise to power is probably one of the most important developments of the 21st century so far. At the time of his inauguration in 2012, many had predicted Xi would be a weak leader, but he has since turned out to be one of the most important men in the world, and will likely remain so until his passing.

This turn of events seemed to catch many by surprise. Western outlets were shocked that Xi had made such a bold power grab, which had apparently gone unchallenged. Secondhand sources relayed the outrage from Chinese academics, journalists and activists, who felt their lives and livelihoods were more in danger than ever before.

But not only was this move not a sudden powergrab, it was explicitly underwritten by the CCP and the government of China. As we’ll discuss, China’s ruling class was in turmoil, having been rocked by scandal and failure, and was on the precipice of serious breakdown. No one talks about this anymore, but it’s true (we'll talk about it, don’t worry).

It was time for a change. In countries like the US, or the UK, or Australia etc etc. this change would manifest in the form of a complete overhaul of the current ruling party, an exchange of ‘right-wing’ for ‘left-wing’, or vice versa, all carried out with much bluster and many an infuriated ‘x’ in a polling booth. This did not happen in China. What happened was a doubling down – the CCP didn’t crumble, it wasn’t replaced, it didn’t change its ways, it didn’t introduce liberalising, westernising reforms. Instead, it was strengthened. It was renewed. And everyone in the west was really confused by this.

President Xi Jinping taking the oath of office after being re-elected at a meeting of the National People’s Congress.

We were confused because this is not the way we’re used to seeing major powers governed. Authoritarianism is for poor, exploited countries with openly corrupt governments, or rich havens where expats go to earn tax free while ignoring the slave-labour classes that toil beneath them. Major powers, with a role in global governance and something to say about… well, everything, should be more open, more like us. Or, more specifically, more like the US.

China and the US are the world’s foremost superpowers, they are also rivals, and they are also vastly different. This difference stems from the way in which each country is governed. The US’ governance system is both a representative democracy and a federal republic, very confusing when you look into it, but on the surface it allows the US to project a grand ‘by the people for the people’ majesty onto the rest of the nominally free world.

China is not a democracy, but it is a republic. A people’s republic – a term usually employed by post-communist ostensibly socialist states – which is slightly different from a regular republic.

What these differences really boil down to is the amount of influence the ordinary person exercises over their government, and how that influence manifests itself. In the US, the people have a certain amount of access to governance through participation in elections. It’s not perfect, not by a long shot, but the people do have some say. And elections are at almost every level, and they’re regular and they’re frequent. This means that there’s a lot of change happening almost all the time at every level of government.

In China, the party assumes it knows what’s best for the people. It knows because it listens – through various mechanisms at various levels – and it takes what it’s listened to and acts upon it. And that’s it. No campaign rallies, no speeches, no pretence to the virtues of democracy, no fuss, no wasted time, no change. You got a problem? The CCP will fix it. Or maybe they’ll cover it up. Either way, it will be dealt with by the CCP.

The consistency of the CCP is the main feature that separates it from the US. This difference is taught about in Chinese school textbooks. The two party system keeps the people divided and the country weak. The US is in decline, China is in ascendancy.

And it's why Trump won’t be able to present a real challenge to China. Nor will whoever comes after him, or the person after that. The US’ constant state of flux, the incessant tug of war between left and right, parents and children, colleagues and classmates, ultimately prevents it from posing any real threat to the steadiness of the Chinese state. Regardless of the struggles facing the Chinese state (which we will also talk about).

I want to talk about Xi’s consolidation of power because I think it’s important for our understanding of how China overcomes challenges, and how this differs so much from western states. Why does China choose sameness over change, unity over fragmentation? How does this help stabilise the country internally? And how does this allow China to project power abroad, at the expense of the US?

A history of perseverance

I think to understand the main question – how did Xi rise to power to the extent that he could abolish any limits on his power – we need to answer 3 smaller questions:

1. What was Xi’s political background and how did this lead to him being selected as secretary general?

2. What was the state of Chinese politics in the early 21st century?

3. Who exactly is in charge of deciding term limits anyway?

Xi’s rise is often characterised as the triumph of a "princeling"—the son of a powerful Party elder, Xi Zhongxun. Yet, this label alone fails to capture the true complexity of his ascent.

Xi’s early years were anything but typical. While many princelings lived sheltered lives, Xi experienced the hardships of the Cultural Revolution firsthand. His father’s purging in the late 1960s resulted in Xi being sent to a remote village in Shaanxi province, where he laboured alongside peasants. These years shaped his character, but they also marked him as an outsider to the urban elite.

Xi Jinping during the Cultural Revolution

Despite his family’s political stature, he had to fight his way through several rejections before securing a spot at Tsinghua University and later, within the Party ranks. He applied and was rejected from the party many times, finally gaining CCP Youth league membership in 1971 and membership to the party in 1974 after 10 applications.

After the death of Mao, with his father reinstated to a position of power, Xi was able to follow a fairly comfortable path in politics. Between 1979 and 1982 he was secretary to the vice premier and secretary-general of the Central Military Commission Geng Biao, a former subordinate of his father’s. He went on to the typical administrative roles, becoming a county official in Hebei, and then working in Fujian, Zhejiang and Shanghai.

For a long time, Xi was seen as a “safe” leader—someone who would not rock the boat. His time in various provincial governments led many to think he was a pragmatic bureaucrat, not a transformative figure. His personal charisma, or lack thereof, was a point of contention. Compared to the more polished and technocratic Hu Jintao or the more charismatic Jiang Zemin, Xi appeared relatively unremarkable. He lacked the ideological flair and the extensive political network that could have made him a natural challenger to the established order. Many assumed he would continue the status quo, and perhaps even be manipulated by outside powers into becoming a liberalising force within Chinese politics.

In many ways, Xi’s ascent mirrors that of the CCP: political turmoil, exile, provincial roots, unlikely rise. And much like those made about the CCP, assumptions about Xi proved to be wrong.

Crisis at the top

By 2012, China was at a crossroads. The 2008 financial crisis had exposed flaws in the Party’s governance model. Though China's economy had boomed over the previous decades, it was now facing serious challenges: rising inequality, environmental degradation, rampant corruption, and an increasingly restive populace.

Then a major incident struck that rocked the whole foundation to the core.

Bo Xilai was the party secretary of Chongqing from 2007 and 2012. At the time, Chongqing was China’s largest city, and Bo was also a member of the Politburo, and at one point a favourite to potentially be promoted to the standing committee in 2012 and even become the next leader of China. His history isn’t too dissimilar from Xi’s –he was the son of Bo Yibo, a former finance minister.

When he became leader of Chongqing, he introduced something known as the Chongqing model, which included a huge anti-corruption campaign in which almost 6,000 criminals, officials, policemen, judges were arrested, and which some people saw as Bo getting rid of rivals which a lot of people did not like. But his promotion of traditional Maoist ideals of class struggle and ‘red’ culture such as singing communist pop songs, attracted a considerable base of support. He attracted a lot of foreign investment to the city and instated popular policies such as building homes for the poor. Overall, he oversaw a popular regime, but one that saw him as the central figure with a lot of power.

But in his pursuit of power he pushed things too far. While carrying out a wire-tapping surveillance scheme that included the conversations of high-up politicians such as Hu Jintao, it also came out that his wife was implicated in the murder of British businessman Neil Hayward. Disgraced, Bo is sentenced to life in prison and the party realises that major changes need to be made to the system. Bo wasn’t just any politician – he was going to be a member of the standing committee of the Politburo, the highest body in the land. And it turns out he was running his own mafia in a city that he had taken over for himself.

Bo Xilai on trial

It was a great, blazing signal that corruption had gotten to the very core of the party; the CCP is supposed to be this giant, secretive, monolith, yet this event revealed the man behind the curtain to an extent. Everyone felt that this was the moment for change, where the CCP had no choice but to reform.

Misunderstanding

As the CCP leadership transition neared, many outside observers still believed that Hu Jintao’s successor would need to follow a path of cautious reform. It was widely assumed that any new leader would have to preserve the delicate balance of power and favour gradual, incremental change over radical upheaval.

This is what Yu Pun-hoi, founder and chairman of the Tsinghua University Center for US-China Relations and the Peking University Chinese Culture Research Center wrote in his 2012 article “What Kind of Leader Will Xi Jinping Be?”

“Xi is expected to manage the ideological debate with great skill and diligence, but remain reform-minded at the same time since economic and social infrastructures require his continuous attention.”

Jean-Pierre Cabestan, professor of political science at Hong Kong Baptist University, wrote in 2012 that

“Xi Jinping will need the full support of the outgoing team and in particular of Hu [Jintao], Wen [Jiabao], the PLA, and the security apparatus in order to succeed. The weakening of the conservative camp and the necessity for reforms will help, as will the provinces that have already embarked on at least some of the structural measures that China must now implement on the advice of the government’s reformists and following the recommendations of the World Bank. However, China is undoubtedly entering a zone of deeper political uncertainty, if not upheaval… Xi will doubtless be forced, depending on circumstances, to take decisions and introduce reforms to which he is currently opposed, or even some that he cannot at present imagine.”

Some commentators, like veteran analyst Willy Wo-lap Lam, even predicted that Xi would struggle to consolidate power, given his lack of a strong factional base. "Xi Jinping will be a very weak leader,” he wrote. He argued Xi was a consensus candidate, chosen in part to balance the factions. His low profile, relative lack of deep ideological commitment, and unremarkable political record seemed to position him as the least likely figure to challenge the Party’s status quo.

Yet, Xi’s appointment turned out to be a pivotal moment in the CCP’s history. By 2013, it was becoming clear that he had a different vision for China –a vision that would radically reshape not just the Party, but also the direction of the nation. By 2018, he had the whole party, and the whole country, firmly within his grasp as “Daddy Xi”.

Old habits

If we consult an outlet like the New York Times, we would learn that Xi “deployed speed, secrecy and intimidation to smother potential opposition inside and outside the party. He swept past the consensus-building conventions that previous leaders used to amend the Constitution. He installed loyalists to draft and support the amendments. And he kept the whole process under the tight control of the party, allowing little debate, even internally.”

But the truth is rather more boring.

Firstly, and rather unfortunately, rather than going down the liberalising routes, upon his becoming leader, Xi immediately began putting a lid on dissenting voices. Discussions of human rights and western values like free press and judicial independence were banned at universities, civil society groups were cracked down on, and foreign reporters were banned. Xi also created two new bodies, National Security Commission and a Central Committee Leadership Small Group on Comprehensively Deepening Reform, both headed by Xi himself. The bodies oversee police and security bodies, as well as any reforms that take place.

It had apparently also been established at a secret politburo meeting that Xi was to have the last say on any economic work, which traditionally would have been left to the premier, in this case Li Keqiang. This meant that in a short period of time, Xi had formalised his control over military, national security, foreign and economic affairs, as well as state-building and ideological work through his anti-corruption campaign.

Xi’s anti-corruption campaign, which began around 2013, served both as a moral crusade and a power assurance tactic. While it was publicly framed as an effort to clean up the Party, it also allowed Xi to target rivals, many of whom were aligned with the factions of Jiang Zemin and Bo Xilai. High-profile figures like Zhou Yongkang, China’s former security tzar, were brought down in the campaign, further consolidating Xi’s control over the Party and signalling to potential rivals that dissent would not be tolerated.

How did Xi get away with making such sweeping changes in such a short period of time? Was there no one in the party who could put a stop to his machinations? Or was it simply the case that no one wanted to?

Consensus

Turns out, it was the latter. In his article “A Strong Leader for A Time of Crisis: Xi Jinping’s Strongman Politics as A Collective Response to Regime Weakness,” Nimrod Baranovitch writes:

“after more than three decades in which China seemed determined to institutionalize collective leadership and move away from personalistic leadership, the consolidation of Xi’s individual power and the dramatic speed with which it took place during his first years in office could not have occurred without the consent and active support of the other senior members of China’s ruling elite… the widespread support among China’s senior leaders for this shift back to strongman leadership derived from a shared sense that the Party and the state were facing severe threats of the scale that led to the collapse of the Soviet Union, and that these threats could be dealt with only if political power was centralized in the hands of a single, all-powerful leader.

To be certain, since he came to power, Xi has proved himself to be a strong, shrewd, visionary, and purposeful leader. Rather, the argument is that despite all of his capabilities and competence, the swift concentration of so much power in his hands, at least in his early years in office, was not the result only of his individual will and actions, but also and mainly the result of the will and actions of other senior leaders.”

Why would the CCP choose to become more authoritarian instead of more liberal? Why double down on authoritarianism instead of instituting reforms to liberalise and ease social and economic pressures?

Again, the answer goes back to governance, and how China chooses to deal with its issues. The 10-year term limits in China were an aberration, they had only been in play for 20 years in total. To westerners they were a sign of changing times; in China they were a failed experiment. The results showed that dictatorship suited them better. China has many problems, which are oft repeated in the press. A slowing economy, an aging population, high youth unemployment, low fertility. It overconsumes and drives others to do so in order to meet its production capacity.

None of these issues are used as political fodder, to fuel the people and feed opposition. Instead, they’re taken as serious matters for discussion, problems to be solved. The best way to deal with these long-term issues is through long-term governance, not by playing power games. It’s important to note that most if not all of these problems also face major western countries, but the way they’re tackled is completely different. In the UK, talking heads are chomping at the bit to eject the recently elected Labour government for ‘going back on their election campaign promises’.

Instead of solutions, we have infighting and maneuvering. Anyone who thinks the farmers’ protests in the capital were organised for the benefit of the ordinary working farmer has only just arrived I fear. In China, there are no critiques of the party, only of the issues. Issues in the country reflect on the party, and are therefore the party’s problem to deal with on behalf of the people.

Xi’s lack of charisma is also a point of note. US presidents – and to an extent, other prominent global leaders – get by almost entirely on charisma. They’re popular and populist; it’s how Trump won, and Viktor Orban, and Berlusconi many, many times. Being popular can lead to ruin too. It’s what allowed Nick Clegg to gain ground for the Liberal Democrats in 2010 for the first time since the party’s formation, ultimately leading to a hung parliament and 15 years of Tory austerity in Britain.

Xi is the perfect representative of the CCP: he is not popular. He is not, really, anything. Most people couldn’t tell you one thing about him, other than that he’s read Goethe and lived in the US for a bit. And that he’s persevered through multiple personal hardships, that he’s resilient, much like the party. That he is more practical than political. That he is in total dominance of the party, like the party completely dominates the country. That he is blank faced, with a small, knowing smile, as if he already knows what you’re about to say, not because he can read your mind, but because you are a broken record. You will argue about democracy, transparency, activism, Uyghurs, trade, tariffs, ‘fairness’, chips, spies, seas, islands, territories, wars. And your arguments will be met with a blank face and a knowing smile. Because soon, you won’t be there any more.

You are a temporary mascot, a rolling advertisement to be torn down and replaced in a year, or two years, or four or five.

Xi Jinping – and the CCP – is forever.