Xi Jinping, the paramount leader of the Chinese Communist Party (CCP), has a problem.
It isn’t a new one, and it doesn’t involve Donald Trump, the US 7th Fleet, Taiwan, deflation, or unemployment.
Mr Xi’s problem is that he needs to retain as much power as he can, for as long a possible, while grooming a successor who will protect and promote his legacy. The alternative might be disgrace, or worse: historic irrelevance.
Mao Zedong had this problem, and so, too, did Deng Xiaoping. Both had successors in mind, but then threw them aside when it came time to pass the torch. Mao dropped at least three, arguably four heirs apparent; Deng dumped two. In the end, and largely due to failing health (Mao died at age 83; Deng lived a decade longer), both men passed the torch to decidedly second-rate men.
Creating revolutionary systems
During the communist portion of China’s 20th century revolution (from the 1920s Warlord Era to the early1950s), Mao fought for power. His colleagues were fellow revolutionaries searching for a model, an ideology, a way of thinking that would help China throw off ancient feudal systems, foreign occupation, and abject poverty. Following World War I and the Russian revolution, communism gained support among some Chinese intellectuals. Others leaned toward fascism (Chaing Kai-shek’s Nationalist Party, for example), or dreamed of rescue by “Mr. Science and Mr. Democracy” (CCP co-founder Chen Duxiu’s cute slogan).
For Mao, the two core principles were these: Power grows out of the barrel of a gun, and the vast majority of the Chinese people were poor, illiterate peasant farmers. Victory would require combining those two. But, the CCP’s Russian advisers insisted that peasants could not possibly constitute the backbone of an urban-based, wage-earning proletariat.
Through a series of “rectification campaigns” – blood purges – in the 1930s and early 1940s, Mao consolidated his grip on power and created a peasant-based army. Those who obeyed him were promoted and protected; opponents were either co-opted or destroyed. Keeping colleagues off-balance (and reliant on him to settle disputes) worked well, until it didn’t.
Chairman Mao chief shortcoming was that he honestly believed that he – and no one else – was utterly indispensable. His command of the inner workings of political machinations was unparalleled, largely because he created the institutions that exercised real power: the party and its army (China’s armed forces belong to the party, not the state.) Anyone who disagreed had to be a counter-revolutionary, a spy, or worse.
By its very nature, a continent-wide revolution in post-Imperial China could not be centrally coordinated with any degree of efficiency. As warlords fell, local governments were appointed to support the huge armies needed to fight other Chinese (chiefly, the Nationalists, or KMT). After 1931, Japanese invaders provided the unifying opponent needed to gain time, and support.
The dispersed soviet-style governments and the peasant armies that arose supported independent “mountaintops,” or political power bases in their own right. Following the 1949 victory that established the People’s Republic of China (PRC), Mao was found he had to share power with generals, party bureaucrats, and governing officials.
In the 1950s, the five massive field armies that won the Chinese Civil War settled down in their respective regions to pacify, govern, and rebuild China. Their commanders and commissars were called to Beijing to take up roles in the central party and government structures still on the drawing board. Second echelon division and corps commanders were assigned provinces to manage as best they could. The third-tier captains and party organizers took over counties, seizing land from the rich and struggled to bring to an end half a century of chaos.
Among those sent to Beijing the men (and almost no women) who understood war, and political commissar watchdogs who kept them in line. The more successful economic, financial, propaganda, and organization experts were also called upon to reconstruct institutions.
Problem No. 1: Mao’s Ego
In 1950s China, party rank was everything. Power was doled out on the basis of ability, seniority, and clout. The top hundred (the party Central Committee, Politburo, and its celestial Standing Committee) sought positions for themselves and their loyal subordinates, thereby gaining power and influence. When these revolutionaries proved to be poor bureaucrats, changes were made until more competed – or more cooperative – cadres took over.
Mao was a revolutionary, not a practical administrator. He cherished zealous loyalty, and didn’t trust expertise. His ideas for organizing peasants into collectives and communes generated enthusiastic support among those who believed he could do no wrong. Others saw the tragic results of poorly thought-out policies, and worked to gently ease him into retirement.
Mao could not retire as a grandfatherly elder, respected but ignored. His second in command, the former urban union organizer, Liu Shaoqi, was a competent administrator, and widely expected to be Mao’s likely successor. He and his chief deputy, Deng Xiaoping, worked around Mao to keep things going. They were the ones who picked up the pieces after disastrous political campaigns such as the mass starvation of the Great Leap Forward.
To balance their growing power, Mao turned to one his generals, Defense Minister Lin Biao. Lin seized the opportunity to stoke a mass frenzy around Mao, a cult of personality. Over time, he began to position himself to succeed to the top post. Others, including Mao’s wife, Jiang Qing, sided with Lin, probably because they couldn’t get any real support from Liu, Deng, and the other more pragmatic and results-oriented leaders.
Mao’s solution was to tear it all down and start over.
“Criticism and self-criticism” was a Stalinist tool Mao used in the 1940s to consolidate his power. It wasn’t quite so successful a decade later. Amid growing dissatisfaction with the pace of progress, intellectuals were invited to raise pointed questions under the banner of “Let a hundred flowers bloom, let a hundred schools of thought contend.” After about a year of fairly liberal tolerance, a crack-down known as the Anti-Rightists Campaign ended the careers of hundreds of thousands of artists, students, and other dissidents. To be enthusiastically “Red” was more important that mere expertise.
By the early 1960s, Mao began to suspect that his colleagues weren’t all that fond of his “move fast and break things” approach.
To overcome threats to his own power, and the tendency for pragmatic solutions to overshadow ideology, Mao called on the people to “bombard the headquarters.” His response was to bypass the party and appeal directly to the people, primarily those under 30.
Mao relaunched the revolution. He called for attacks on party and government leaders, targeting those who had created the structures needed to run China. Anyone who resisted, slow-walked instructions, or otherwise threatened his hold on power, fell.
Initially, the plan was for enthusiastic mobs to channel Mao’s dissatisfaction with government and party bureaucracies. Alas, The Chairman discovered that launching yet another nation-wide mass movement was a lot more difficult to control without the usual instruments of power.
Mao’s first heir apparent, Liu Shaoqi was purged in 1966, and Lin Biao, the avid promoter of the Little Red Book, was formally anointed as successor. The radical wing of the CCP, guided by Mao’s wife Jiang Qing and her hand-picked allies, gladly purged anyone standing in their way. Government administration ground to a halt, and as the movement slipped away from Mao’s control, the army was called in to restore order.
Shortly thereafter (as far as we can tell), Lin decided to make his move. The official story is that his 1971 coup d’etat failed and he died trying to escape to Russia. Mao’s second heir apparent had to be replaced just five years after the previous one was rejected. To achieve this, the old guard were selectively brought back to power under the leadership of Premier Zhou Enlai. To handle the army, Mao turned to Deng Xiaoping.
Countering Zhou’s efforts to focus the nation on development and stability were the so-called winners of the Cultural Revolution. These were people who had risen to the highest levels by pulling down those above them. Chief among them were Jiang Qing, and her allies later dubbed the Gang of Four. In this early 1970s environment, everything depends on Mao, and all bets are hedged by how long he would live.
Zhou Enlai died in January 1976. The Gang of Four quickly moved to oust Deng Xiaoping, but were forced to accept a compromise caretaker, Hua Guofeng, as premier. When Mao died nine months later, this obscure provincial party secretary, nobody’s pick as an actual leader, became the last man standing. A coup d’etat followed in which the Gang of Four were all jailed and the old guard rallied around now-Chairman Hua.
Problem No. 2: Negotiating with near-equals
The top leaders called to Beijing in the 1950s included Deng Xiaoping, Xi Jinping’s father (Xi Zhongxun), and the other battle-tested revolutionaries who ruled China after Mao. By the time they returned to power in the 1980s, they were all in their 70s or 80s, and came to be known as the Eight Immortals. When Mao died, they were almost all well out of power.
“Chairman” Hua Guofeng was far, far out of his depth. In order to keep those who benefited from the chaos of the Cultural Revolution off his back, he agreed to let Deng Xiaoping return to the top levels of the party, state, and army (Deng had been CCP vice chair, government vice premier, and army chief-of-staff). With the support of old army buddies and disgusted administrators, Deng cleaned house. Followers of the Gang of Four were dismissed, Hua Guofeng was gently pushed aside, and those persecuted in previous decades were brought back into the ranks of the governing elite.
In establishing a new order, Deng sought to avoid the headaches caused by Mao’s Ego. He insisted that he himself would not take any of the top titles in the party or state apparatus. Deng also established a first-among-equals arrangement with other leaders committed to cleaning up after the horrors of the Cultural Revolution. By 1980, most of the 1950s elite were back on top.
Deng’s solution was to share power and anoint heirs early. Each of the Eight Immortals was encouraged to bring into the upper ranks a few proven and trusted allies. Deng’s intention was to convince The Eight to retire, pass on power to the next generation, and remain available behind the scenes, in the event of a crisis. Terms of office were defined. Retirement age limits were (mostly) imposed. And, younger cadres began to compete among themselves for power.
Deng’s first chosen heir, Hu Yaobang, was competent, respected, and unable to punch in the heavy-weight category without Deng’s backing. He pursued what in the Chinese context was an extremely liberal social policy reminiscent of the 1950s Hundred Flower period. That scared some of the old guard, and when the opportunity arose, they demanded Deng cashier Hu.
Heir Number Two, Zhao Ziyang, had been rebuilding the government since Hua Guofeng was ousted in 1980. His international savvy and personal charm brought to mind the easy style of Premier Zhou Enlai. But, as China slowly opened to foreign trade and investment, and strict state controls eased, a series of boom-and-bust cycles roiled the economy. After Hu Yaobang was dismissed in 1987, Zhao took over formal leadership of the party amid high inflation and rising dissatisfaction.
In the optimistic days of the late 1980s, Zhao seemed to be the man to take China into the ranks of modern, cooperative global affairs. But, the death of the still-popular Hu Yaobang in early 1989, dissatisfaction with inflation (well over 20%), and tightening social controls brought protesters into the streets. At first, they echoed the 1976 wake for Zhou Enlai, but their persistence began to worry the elders.
Zhao tried, and failed, to convince the students to end their protest. The ensuing Tiananmen Massacre of June 4, 1989, saw the end of Zhao Ziyang’s tenure as heir apparent. Desperate for a replacement, Deng and his colleagues turned to Shanghai party chief Jiang Zemin. Again, a largely unknown provincial cadre was called upon to rescue the old guard.
Xi’s Solution: no heirs
During Jiang’s extended tenure (he only reluctantly and slowly yielded power to the next leader, Hu Jintao), corruption began to become a problem. Hu Jintao was unable to clean house with Jiang looking over his shoulder, and didn’t have the gravitas to chose his own successor. After the dust settled on the battle between two sons of Immortals, Xi Jinping and Bo Xilai (son of former finance minister Bo Yibo), one is on top, and the other is spending his time in jail.
At first, Xi Jinping crafted a typical, broadly representative leadership group. Each of the key factions – Jiang Zemin’s Shanghai Clique, Hu Jintao’s Communist Youth League followers, and the loosely aligned “princelings” – children of senior revolutionaries – had its seat at the table. The proper comments about cooperation and continuity were made, and for at least a few months, all was looking good.
Then, Xi began the purge the powerful vested interests in the army and party. In doing so, he broke rules and scared people, much as Mao had done in his day. But, no one suspected Xi had anything like Mao’s power.
We were wrong. Xi Jinping is as powerful as Mao Zedong, but without a circle of highly regarded revolutionaries to dampen his desires. Heads rolled, including most of the top military echelon. And, like Mao, rules were broken.
No more term limits. No grooming heirs. No negotiation with other power centers, because they aren’t any. Today, speculation surrounds which of Xi’s own group of followers will gain a step on the others. His former colleagues from Fujian, Shaanxi, or Zhejiang provinces have powerful positions throughout the party, government, and armed forces. But, no one is even close to being identified as a likely heir.
As Xi Jinping looks forward to the next CCP National Party Congress, which should be held in the autumn of 2027, he shows no sign of slowing down. He is deep into his third term, which is one more than Deng Xiaoping decided should be permitted.
At the 21st Congress, Xi will be 74 years old; only four of his 24 politburo colleagues will be under the age of 65. And, only two of his senior general officers. It’s a little better in the national government, where half of the 26 ministers and one vice minister are below retirement age. At the provincial level, only 11 of 31 party secretaries will be under 65.
So, Xi Jinping has a succession problem. Either he names an heir early enough for that person to establish himself as able to stand on his own two feet, or he risks his historic legacy being erased. If he does name an heir, history suggests that the first couple of choices won’t make it to the end. But, given that Mao and Deng lived to well beyond Xi’s 74 years (in 2027), there may still be time.
