At noon on Thursday, the Chinese Communist Party’s (CCP) new seven-person Politburo Standing Committee walked on to a red-carpeted stage at Beijing’s Great Hall of the People, ending months, if not years, of speculation over who would make the lineup.
Yet just as US President Barack Obama’s re-election led US pundits to ask who will run in 2016, China watchers are now mulling who might become China’s top leaders when Chinese Vice President Xi Jinping (習近平) and Chinese Vice Premier Li Keqiang (李克強) retire in 2022.
For many analysts, this is more than idle guesswork: Understanding the party’s up-and-coming stars means understanding its priorities. They say hopes for political reform, already dulled by the announcement of an overwhelmingly conservative standing committee, are unlikely to be revived by the new generation of leaders. Many of them have been groomed into positions of power by Chinese President Hu Jintao (胡錦濤), a cautious bureaucrat who has long rewarded adherence to the “status quo.”
“Conventional wisdom is the idea that this is the generation that will have more foreign exposure, or a bit more experience abroad, and this will make them more cosmopolitan or outward looking,” said Rana Mitter, a professor of Chinese politics at Oxford University. “I’m not very sure that this is what’s going on here.”
Topping a long list of 2022 hopefuls is Hu Chunhua (胡春華), party secretary of the Inner Mongolia Autonomous Region — a security maven who is often called “Little Hu” for his close relationship with the president.
Experts also mention Hunan Province Party Secretary Zhou Qiang (周強) and Jilin Province Party Secretary Sun Zhengcai (孫政才), a former agricultural minister, as notable rising stars.
Hu Chunhua and Sun, both 49, were named to China’s new 25-member politburo, the country’s top decisionmaking body. Zhou, 52, who once worked in the Ministry of Justice, could become the country’s next top judge, according to the South China Morning Post.
Hu Chunhua, Sun and Zhou belong to the “sixth generation” of CCP leaders since Mao established the People’s Republic of China in 1949. They came of age during Mao’s tumultuous Cultural Revolution from 1966 to 1976 — giving them deep appreciation for political stability.
Xi and Li belong to the fifth generation of leaders; Hu Jintao and Chinese Premier Wen Jiabao (溫家寶) belong to the fourth.
Bo Zhiyue (薄智躍), an expert on Chinese politics at the National University of Singapore, said that today’s party elites may be more cautious in grooming their successors. Xi and Li leapfrogged to the Politburo Standing Committee five years ago without first sitting on the 25-member politburo, he said.
“I think these people will have to be placed in provincial leadership positions for another four or five years before they move to the central leadership,” Bo said. “They need to gain additional local experience.”
Willy Lam (林和立), a Chinese politics expert at the Washington-based Jamestown Foundation, wrote that incentive systems laid out by Hu Jintao make it unlikely that the sixth generation would enact real political change. Third-generation leaders such as former Chinese paramount leader Deng Xiaoping (鄧小平) strived to strike a balance between professional competence and communist zeal, he wrote in a 2010 report called Changing of the Guard.
Yet Hu Jintao has unwaveringly given priority to “morality,’’ party-speak for devotion, above other qualities.
“Fifth- and sixth-generation cadres have yet to display originality of thinking and capability for breakthroughs in governance,” Lam wrote.
Analysts say that it may not be possible to truly gauge sixth generation leaders’ potential to join the standing committee for years.
“The onus is now on Hu Chunhua, Zhou and other sixth-generation ... luminaries to prove to their colleagues — and 1.3 billion Chinese — that they have what it takes to, in patriarch Deng’s memorable words, ‘prop up the sky’ at times of monumental challenges,” Lam wrote.
In the US’ National Security Strategy (NSS) report released last month, US President Donald Trump offered his interpretation of the Monroe Doctrine. The “Trump Corollary,” presented on page 15, is a distinctly aggressive rebranding of the more than 200-year-old foreign policy position. Beyond reasserting the sovereignty of the western hemisphere against foreign intervention, the document centers on energy and strategic assets, and attempts to redraw the map of the geopolitical landscape more broadly. It is clear that Trump no longer sees the western hemisphere as a peaceful backyard, but rather as the frontier of a new Cold War. In particular,
When it became clear that the world was entering a new era with a radical change in the US’ global stance in US President Donald Trump’s second term, many in Taiwan were concerned about what this meant for the nation’s defense against China. Instability and disruption are dangerous. Chaos introduces unknowns. There was a sense that the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) might have a point with its tendency not to trust the US. The world order is certainly changing, but concerns about the implications for Taiwan of this disruption left many blind to how the same forces might also weaken
As the Chinese People’s Liberation Army (PLA) races toward its 2027 modernization goals, most analysts fixate on ship counts, missile ranges and artificial intelligence. Those metrics matter — but they obscure a deeper vulnerability. The true future of the PLA, and by extension Taiwan’s security, might hinge less on hardware than on whether the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) can preserve ideological loyalty inside its own armed forces. Iran’s 1979 revolution demonstrated how even a technologically advanced military can collapse when the social environment surrounding it shifts. That lesson has renewed relevance as fresh unrest shakes Iran today — and it should
On today’s page, Masahiro Matsumura, a professor of international politics and national security at St Andrew’s University in Osaka, questions the viability and advisability of the government’s proposed “T-Dome” missile defense system. Matsumura writes that Taiwan’s military budget would be better allocated elsewhere, and cautions against the temptation to allow politics to trump strategic sense. What he does not do is question whether Taiwan needs to increase its defense capabilities. “Given the accelerating pace of Beijing’s military buildup and political coercion ... [Taiwan] cannot afford inaction,” he writes. A rational, robust debate over the specifics, not the scale or the necessity,