For over a century, tumultuous events thousands of miles away in Russia have impacted China profoundly. Mao Zedong (毛澤東) famously said that the cannon sound of the October Revolution brought Marxism-Leninism to China. Now Xi Jinping (習近平) fears that last month’s Wagner revolt may provide a model for the Chinese Communist Party’s undoing.
The revolt, initiated by the Wagner private military group and its recalcitrant chief, Yevgeny Prigozhin, was as short-lived as it was shocking. It nonetheless represented the biggest threat to Vladimir Putin’s rule in over 20 years in the Kremlin. The rebels captured the headquarters of Russia’s Southern Military District and halted their charge a mere 200 kilometers from Moscow.
Yet the fears and forces the rebellion unleashed were also felt in Beijing. CCP elites lose sleep over the precedent of a mercenary army with limited loyalty to a regime, establishing an alternative power center that could win popular support. In an era of joint proclamations of “no-limits partnership” between China and Russia, Xi Jinping and his ruling cadre realize these concerns acutely. Xi is likely to draw two important lessons from Prigozhin’s aborted putsch.
The first lesson Xi will likely derive from this month’s mutiny is the importance of centralized political control over the military. The relationship between Moscow and Wagner’s fighters was merely contractual, rooted neither in ideological commonality nor in mutual understanding. Months before the Wagner revolt, Chinese military analysts publicly noted the danger of Putin’s mercenary bargain. According to some CCP analysts, the root cause of Russia’s struggles in Ukraine has been its military leaders’ failure to install political commissars at all levels of command to ensure the lower ranks’ loyalty to the regime.
Xi has been working for years to build a system without this vulnerability. During his ten-plus years in power, he has mercilessly purged nearly one hundred senior general officers of the CCP, unprecedented in the history of the party. Virtually the entire senior leadership of the People’s Liberation Army under Xi’s predecessor has been wiped out. Many of these men are either dead or languishing in China’s prisons for life, including the PLA’s two highest-ranking uniformed officers, Generals Xu Caihou (徐才厚) and Guo Boxiong (郭伯雄). Xi has also arbitrarily removed or shuffled around theater commanders, reflecting his growing paranoia over dissent within the ranks. While carrying out large-scale military purges, he has sacrificed professional competence for ideological trustworthiness. He follows the CCP’s political playbook for regime survival, striving to avoid coups, military revolts, and civil uprisings at all costs.
The Wagner revolt has only deepened Xi’s belief in the Leninist and Maoist diktat that the Party must command the guns. After Prigozhin’s march on Moscow, the possibility of a military mutiny has been a hot topic in the inner circles of the CCP, and among ordinary people in the streets. Therefore, Xi is likely to further strengthen the political commissar system and enhance the PLA’s program of ideological indoctrination, viewing any depreciation in warfighting skills as a worthy trade-off for the reassurance of ideological purity.
The second lesson that Russia’s predicament is likely to reinforce for Xi is the necessity of inhibiting the growth of alternative power centers before they are strong enough to challenge his rule. Putin realized the threat from the Wagner juggernaut only after it had grown strong. Worried that its mercenaries would join hostile foreign forces to establish a more popular anti-Kremlin alternative on Russian soil, he dispatched his junior partner, Alexander Lukashenko of Belarus, to forestall Prigozhin’s coalescence with potential outside actors. Despite this eleventh-hour intervention the Wagner rebels came close to establishing a potentially viable political alternative to the Putin regime.
This stirred Beijing to alarm. It knows all too well that the emergence of an appealing alternative to its rule could precipitate revolt and defections on a large scale. This possibility, unlikely as it may seem, is not without precedent in the annals of the communist Chinese armed forces. PLA officers and soldiers alike, once given an alternative, have historically seized the opportunity to defect to an enemy’s camp. During the Korean War, many front-line combat officers quickly fled the battle for refuge behind American or UN lines. After the cessation of hostilities, two-thirds of all those Chinese POWs — 14,000 of 21,300 — refused to return to communist China and instead defected to freedom. It is therefore no surprise that preventing defections has always been one of the CCP’s primary concerns. It has invested significant manpower and financial resources in this endeavor.
After the Wagner revolt, there is no doubt those investments will deepen. Even more draconian measures are likely. Xi Jinping has recently dialed up his warnings of insidious foreign forces operating within China to carry out a “color revolution.” The CCP could, like Putin, curtail professional contacts between all senior military personnel in the PLA and their foreign counterparts, and could go even further. Senior PLA leaders have certainly been purged before on suspicion of international collusion: In 1959, Mao’s defense minister Marshal Peng Dehuai (彭德懷) was suspected of close contacts with Soviet military leadership and given a slow and tragic death, with thousands of Peng’s subordinates receiving similar punishment. Washington must understand this deadly Chinese military ethos and cease harboring romantic illusions about the prospect of establishing a US-China military hotline.
Political earthquakes in Moscow will always make waves in Beijing. Time will tell whether Xi Jinping has prepared well enough for the moment those waves arrive.
Miles Yu is a senior fellow and director of the China Center at the Hudson Institute. He is also a visiting fellow at the Hoover Institution and a senior fellow at the Institute of Project 2049. Mr. Yu served as the senior China policy and planning advisor to Secretary of State Mike Pompeo during the Trump Administration.
President William Lai (賴清德) recently attended an event in Taipei marking the end of World War II in Europe, emphasizing in his speech: “Using force to invade another country is an unjust act and will ultimately fail.” In just a few words, he captured the core values of the postwar international order and reminded us again: History is not just for reflection, but serves as a warning for the present. From a broad historical perspective, his statement carries weight. For centuries, international relations operated under the law of the jungle — where the strong dominated and the weak were constrained. That
The Executive Yuan recently revised a page of its Web site on ethnic groups in Taiwan, replacing the term “Han” (漢族) with “the rest of the population.” The page, which was updated on March 24, describes the composition of Taiwan’s registered households as indigenous (2.5 percent), foreign origin (1.2 percent) and the rest of the population (96.2 percent). The change was picked up by a social media user and amplified by local media, sparking heated discussion over the weekend. The pan-blue and pro-China camp called it a politically motivated desinicization attempt to obscure the Han Chinese ethnicity of most Taiwanese.
On Wednesday last week, the Rossiyskaya Gazeta published an article by Chinese President Xi Jinping (習近平) asserting the People’s Republic of China’s (PRC) territorial claim over Taiwan effective 1945, predicated upon instruments such as the 1943 Cairo Declaration and the 1945 Potsdam Proclamation. The article further contended that this de jure and de facto status was subsequently reaffirmed by UN General Assembly Resolution 2758 of 1971. The Ministry of Foreign Affairs promptly issued a statement categorically repudiating these assertions. In addition to the reasons put forward by the ministry, I believe that China’s assertions are open to questions in international
The Legislative Yuan passed an amendment on Friday last week to add four national holidays and make Workers’ Day a national holiday for all sectors — a move referred to as “four plus one.” The Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) and the Taiwan People’s Party (TPP), who used their combined legislative majority to push the bill through its third reading, claim the holidays were chosen based on their inherent significance and social relevance. However, in passing the amendment, they have stuck to the traditional mindset of taking a holiday just for the sake of it, failing to make good use of