At the end of the six-day 19th National Congress of the Chinese Communist Party (CCP), the approximately 2,200 delegates decided to add “Xi Jinping (習近平) Thought on the new era of socialism with Chinese characteristics” to the party’s constitution, and it became official: The era of Xi has begun.
Only two previous Chinese leaders, Mao Zedong (毛澤東) and Deng Xiaoping (鄧小平), have had their personally branded ideology enshrined in the CCP’s charter.
Xi’s two predecessors, Jiang Zemin (江澤民) and Hu Jintao (胡錦濤), did not have their names linked to any ideological doctrine, much less one elevated to such a high status.
Chinese leaders are eager to confirm what the world already knew: Xi’s authority now equals that of the CCP’s heaviest heavyweights.
Besides symbolically catapulting Xi into the pantheon of the founders of the People’s Republic of China, the congress delivered him two substantive political victories.
First and foremost, Xi stalled the designation of a successor, thereby leaving open the possibility that he could serve a third term as president.
All five new members of the CCP’s Politburo Standing Committee, the party’s top decision-making body, are in their 60s — too old to be groomed to take over for Xi in five years, given the party’s unofficial retirement age of 68.
Had one or two new Politburo Standing Committee members younger than 55 been promoted, Xi would be expected to step down in 2022, when he is to hit the two-term limit, just as Jiang and Hu did. The alternative would be to purge the designated successor, as Mao and Deng did. Neither scenario is appealing.
However, with no successor, the possibility that Xi will serve a third term — at least — should decisively alter the political calculations of both his loyalists and those still hedging their bets. Loyalists will reiterate their allegiance, while those on the fence are likely to hop on the Xi bandwagon. As for Xi’s rivals, they must be thoroughly demoralized.
Xi’s second major victory at the congress was the promotion of two close allies to the Politburo Standing Committee. First, his chief of staff, Li Zhanshu (栗戰書), is taking over the National People’s Congress (NPC). The NPC, which has never been much more than a rubber stamp for party decisions, will now have its legislative agenda dictated by Xi himself.
Li’s leadership of the NPC could turn out to be the key to dismantling one of the last barriers to Xi’s political ambitions: the constitutional two-term limit for presidents.
While nothing prevents Xi from retaining a party title, such as CCP general secretary, he will need to amend the constitution if he wants to remain China’s head of state. With Li in charge, such an amendment would sail through the NPC.
Another trusted loyalist, Zhao Leji (趙樂際), is taking over from the 69-year-old Wang Qishan (王岐山) as CCP Central Commission for Discipline Inspection secretary — a crucial position responsible for keeping the CCP in check.
Wang has overseen Xi’s anti-corruption drive — which has purged many of Xi’s rivals and consolidated his power — since it began. By appointing Zhao, Xi has effectively put every senior leader on notice.
Xi’s triumph at the congress has fueled widespread speculation that his now-formidable power will enable him to impose his vision of hardline authoritarian rule, underpinned by Chinese nationalism, in the coming years.
That is a possibility, but it is far from guaranteed.
The reason is simple: Although the CCP’s internal power dynamics have not changed much in the past few decades, Chinese society has moved far beyond the Maoist or even the Dengist era. Few Chinese, including members of the party, genuinely believe in any official doctrine.
Economically, the private sector accounts for more than 60 percent of China’s output and the CCP has become practically irrelevant in the daily lives of ordinary Chinese.
This is the paradox of power in the era of Xi. Yes, he is the most powerful leader that the world’s largest one-party state has had in decades — but his ability to shape Chinese society could turn out to be far more limited than he, his allies and most outside observers expect.
Minxin Pei is professor of government at Claremont McKenna College and a non-resident senior fellow at the German Marshall Fund of the US.
Copyright: Project Syndicate
In a stark reminder of China’s persistent territorial overreach, Pema Wangjom Thongdok, a woman from Arunachal Pradesh holding an Indian passport, was detained for 18 hours at Shanghai Pudong Airport on Nov. 24 last year. Chinese immigration officials allegedly informed her that her passport was “invalid” because she was “Chinese,” refusing to recognize her Indian citizenship and claiming Arunachal Pradesh as part of South Tibet. Officials had insisted that Thongdok, an Indian-origin UK resident traveling for a conference, was not Indian despite her valid documents. India lodged a strong diplomatic protest, summoning the Chinese charge d’affaires in Delhi and demanding
With the Year of the Snake reaching its conclusion on Monday next week, now is an opportune moment to reflect on the past year — a year marked by institutional strain and national resilience. For Taiwan, the Year of the Snake was a composite of political friction, economic momentum, social unease and strategic consolidation. In the political sphere, it was defined less by legislative productivity and more by partisan confrontation. The mass recall movement sought to remove 31 Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) legislators following the passage of controversial bills that expanded legislative powers and imposed sweeping budget cuts. While the effort
When Hong Kong’s High Court sentenced newspaper owner Jimmy Lai (黎智英) to 20 years in prison this week, officials declared that his “heinous crimes” had long poisoned society and that his punishment represented justice restored. In their telling, Lai is the mastermind of Hong Kong’s unrest — the architect of a vast conspiracy that manipulated an otherwise contented population into defiance. They imply that removing him would lead to the return of stability. It is a politically convenient narrative — and a profoundly false one. Lai did not radicalize Hong Kong. He belonged to the same generation that fled from the Chinese
The wrap-up press event on Feb. 1 for the new local period suspense film Murder of the Century (世紀血案), adapted from the true story of the Lin family murders (林家血案) in 1980, has sparked waves of condemnation in the past week, as well as a boycott. The film is based on the shocking, unsolved murders that occurred at then-imprisoned provincial councilor and democracy advocate Lin I-hsiung’s (林義雄) residence on Feb. 28, 1980, while Lin was detained for his participation in the Formosa Incident, in which police and protesters clashed during a pro-democracy rally in Kaohsiung organized by Formosa Magazine on Dec.
RSS