X Close

The myth of monolithic China The Communist Party regime is more fractured than we think

Xi is not as powerful as you might think (WANG ZHAO/AFP via Getty Images)


September 9, 2021   6 mins

The Westā€™s new Cold War with China has been brewing for over a decade. From Obamaā€™s ā€œPivot to Asiaā€ policy, through Trumpā€™s trade war and now Bidenā€™s push for ā€œBuild Back Better Worldā€ ā€” a rival to Chinaā€™s Belt and Road Initiative (BRI) ā€” the US has steadily been reorienting itself to confront Beijing, and increasingly dragging its Nato allies along with it.

Driving this increasingly confrontational approach is a view of China as a monolithic, authoritarian state embarked on a long-term strategy to overthrow US hegemony. Compared to Western states ā€” riven by factional strife, paralysed by democratic deadlock, flailing about in the Middle East and seemingly unable to plan beyond next Tuesday ā€” China certainly seems a fearsome challenger. Its plans cover everything from domestic Artificial Intelligence development to global infrastructure, while the top-down China Communist Party (CCP) regime ensures strict implementation and compliance. Some analysts have even suggested the existence of a 100-year strategy to displace the United States, implying an incredible capacity for long-term strategic planning.

The trouble is: this isnā€™t true. The Chinese party-state does not work like this. As I explain in a new book, Fractured China, the party-state is much more fragmented than many Westerners believe. Indeed, central policymaking is often loose and vague, with many competing interests shaping what actually happens on the ground.

Under Mao, the Chinese party-state was highly centralised, with top-down ā€œcommand and controlā€ systems that allowed central agencies to micromanage Chinaā€™s economy and society. However, in Deng Xiaopingā€™s post-1978 ā€œreform and opening upā€ era, these institutions were dismantled to facilitate the turn to capitalism.

Power and control over resources was extensively decentralised to provincial and local governments, as well as the emergent private sector. Privatisation and corporatisation turned former government ministries into free-wheeling, profit-seeking enterprises whose overseas activities are often beyond the ability of Chinese regulators to control. And as party cadres moved into business, and business tycoons joined the party, competing cadre-capitalist networks emerged across the party-state.

Over the past decade, policymaking has been fragmented across a host of national and subnational agencies, often with competing interests and agendas. Some previously domestic agencies have acquired an international role, with even provincial governments having their own foreign and commercial offices.

Provincial governments have, for example, signed a number of trade and investment deals with governments in Asia and Africa. Chinaā€™s Ministry of Foreign Affairs, then, is not in control of Chinese foreign policy, and often does not even know what other agencies are up to ā€” until some crisis erupts, such as that in Ghana when the local government of Shangli county in Guangxi province deliberately ā€œexportedā€ tens of thousands of artisanal gold miners to offset local unemployment, sparking a populist anti-Chinese backlash and a government crackdown.

Of course, central leaders do still retain some powerful mechanisms for coordinating the fractured party-state. And these all have some effect on how the system works. But they do not add up to strategic, top-down control of every aspect of Chinese behaviour. Top leaders may convene ā€œleading small groupsā€, committees bringing together different agencies in a given policy area, to try to cohere them around common purposes. But these purposes are often left vague to accommodate competing interests and agendas.

Equally vague are CCP elitesā€™ speeches and slogans, which set an overall ā€œtoneā€ and direction for policy. Subordinates must orient themselves to these slogans to win policy support, funding and promotion. But they are so general that they usually require extensive interpretation to work out what they mean in practice.

Central agenciesā€™ policies are likewise frequently loose ā€œopinionsā€ that local governments must adapt to local conditions. This all creates enormous scope for subordinates to interpret central ā€œdirectivesā€ in ways that actually advance their own sectional interests, rather than any geostrategic grand strategy. Indeed, the system actively encourages experimentation within loose guidelines ā€” what former paramount leader Deng Xiaoping called ā€œcrossing the river by feeling for the stonesā€.

The most important cohering mechanisms are the CCPā€™s powers of appointment, appraisal and discipline, which leaders can use to encourage loyalty and punish wayward cadres. Xi Jinping is making particularly strong use of these powers ā€” having, for example, prosecuted over two million cadres for corruption. That such purges seem necessary reflects the epochal transformations in Chinaā€™s party-state, which, while spurring rapid economic growth, have also weakened central control, undermined the regimeā€™s authority, and enabled massive local corruption.

Such dynamics have, for instance, played out in the current strife over Xiā€™s drive for ā€œcommon prosperityā€. Everyone must orient themselves to this agenda, but no one ā€” probably including Xi himself ā€” really knows what it actually means, and everyone tries to wrap it around their own personal preferences. Hard-line leftists in China have interpreted ā€œcommon prosperityā€ as unleashing a long overdue attack on the rich, terrorising many business tycoons, who have quickly donated billions to state-linked good causes. But others insist that ā€œcommon prosperity is not egalitarianism,ā€ and will not involve ā€œrobbing the rich to help the poorā€, bashing the Left for ā€œtriggering ideological confusion and panicā€.

Or take Xiā€™s call for a ā€œtoilet revolutionā€ in 2015, in a speech lamenting the often-dreadful state of Chinaā€™s public lavatories. Local governments seized on this vague utterance to justify splurging a staggering $3bn on toilet upgrades over the next 18 months, doubtless enriching many state-linked construction companies, before the horrified State Council reined them in.

Indeed, Chinese local governments are especially adept at exploiting their autonomy to further their own interests, leading to highly irrational outcomes, which are often misinterpreted as some kind of cunning strategy.

For example, Labourā€™s Stephen Kinnock, the shadow Asia minister, recently accused China of ā€œdeliberately overproducing steelā€ to dump on Western markets. In reality, overcapacity has been endemic across most basic Chinese industries since the 1990s ā€” reaching 20 to 30% by the early 2010s ā€” as local governments competed against one another to develop local industries and infrastructure through debt-fuelled over-investment. This is why China now has more airports per square kilometre than the US, and is awash with ā€œghost townsā€ and loss-making roads and railways, and why many local governments and state-owned enterprises (SOEs) are effectively bankrupt.

But it is Chinaā€™s BRI that provides the best example of how these dynamics play out internationally. Western commentary tends to depict the BRI as Xiā€™s cunning grand strategy, designed to undermine US leadership and ensnare developing countries through ā€œdebt-trap diplomacyā€. Detailed maps give the impression of a strategic blueprint being faithfully rolled out by officials and companies.

The reality is very different. ā€œOne belt, one roadā€ emerged as a slogan in 2013 following two speeches by Xi, which largely just described what China was already doing: investing and building infrastructure in developing countries. But quickly, everyone piled in. Over the next two years, provincial governments and state-owned enterprises lobbied ferociously to get their pet projects incorporated into the BRI. Consequently, the projectā€™s guidelines are remarkably vague and capacious, involving no clear objectives, no timeline, no dedicated resource commitments, and no real prioritisation. Practically every party-state activity has been squashed in.

Even today, there is no official Chinese map of the BRI, and unofficial ones were banned in 2017. There is not even a clear definition of what constitutes a BRI country or project: different agencies use different metrics to suit themselves. BRI projects are not devised in Beijing, according to a strategic blueprint. They normally originate with foreign governments, seeking funds to accelerate infrastructure development, which may also be useful for securing electoral support or fuelling patronage networks through dodgy construction contracts. And they are often egged-on by Chinese SOEs ā€” not because they want to advance Chinaā€™s geostrategic interests, but because they want to win lucrative tied aid contracts. Consequently, projects are as likely to occur outside of the six broad ā€œcorridorsā€ sketched in the BRI guidelines as inside them.

Indeed, oversight over the BRI is remarkably weak. Chinese policy banks and regulators have very little capacity to evaluate projectsā€™ feasibility, and consequently approve many ā€œwhite elephantsā€, such as the notorious Hambantota Port in Sri Lanka. Half of Chinaā€™s overseas projects are loss-making. Regulators also have no real capacity to scrutinise projectsā€™ implementation, relying instead on host countries to supervise them. The Ministry of Foreign Affairs is barely involved in decision-making, and is typically only brought in when these problems spark major diplomatic incidents. China is still crossing the river while feeling for the stones, but it is stubbing its toes as it goes along.

And so responding to the behaviour of every Chinese entity as though it were intentionally planned and sanctioned by the top Chinese leadership is clearly misguided. The Chinese party-state is not monolithic ā€” it is fractured, even when it comes to Xi Jinpingā€™s signature foreign policy initiative.

Rather than confronting an imaginary strategic monolith, then, Western analysts and policymakers should develop a much more nuanced understanding of China and the internal struggles animating the party-state. In some policy areas, the interests involved do make cooperation difficult or even impossible. But elsewhere, there are forces and agencies that want to work constructively with foreign partners, creating scope for collaboration and mutual learning.

The UKā€™s decision to join and shape Chinaā€™s Asian Infrastructure Investment Bank (AIIB), for example ā€” rather than boycotting it, as Washington demanded ā€” is a good case in point. The AIIB has adopted similar standards to existing multilateral development banks, while also trying to drive up the standards of Chinaā€™s overseas projects.

A new Cold War will only isolate and immobilise these groups, empowering nationalist and paranoid factions who are convinced the West cannot tolerate Chinaā€™s rise. Unless we tread carefully, and develop a more realistic understanding of China, we risk provoking a confrontation that we might not be able to win.


Lee Jones isĀ Professor of Political Economy and International Relations at Queen Mary University of London.

DrLeeJones

Join the discussion


Join like minded readers that support our journalism by becoming a paid subscriber


To join the discussion in the comments, become a paid subscriber.

Join like minded readers that support our journalism, read unlimited articles and enjoy other subscriber-only benefits.

Subscribe
Subscribe
Notify of
guest

14 Comments
Most Voted
Newest Oldest
Inline Feedbacks
View all comments
William MacDougall
William MacDougall
3 years ago

Refreshing and largely convincing analysis, but still China is breaking treaty commitments over Hong Kong, treating some of its minorities very badly indeed, and threatening to invade Taiwan and conquer islands to control sea lanes. The dangers are real.

J Bryant
J Bryant
3 years ago

Great article. This certainly isn’t the view of the CCP and its planning capability we routinely see reported in the mainstream media. China is very good at controlling information about its government and society.
I’d love to see an article about what it’s like to be a western journalist in China. Are you followed by the secret police? Are you granted interviews with local or national government officials? Can you travel freely? Is your reporting subject to review and censorship?

Jonathan Ellman
Jonathan Ellman
3 years ago

I find this quite convincing. I think our misjudgement in the West is of our own planning and organisational capacities, which since Covid and now the Afghanistan withdrawal have been revealed as just as confused and chaotic as the Chinese.

Ed Cameron
Ed Cameron
3 years ago

Hmmm… not sure about this.
Interesting language: ā€œcohering mechanismsā€, linked with ā€œpunishmentā€. Enforced coherence, then. Lovely.
And thatā€™s punishment in a ā€˜judicialā€™ system with very predictable results. One not only used by the CCP against the corrupt, some of whom are fitted up, and many of whom are not cadres.
With every investment in a foreign country, no matter how uncoordinated, the CCP can claim another national interest to defend.  

Last edited 3 years ago by Ed Cameron
Norman Powers
Norman Powers
3 years ago

Hmm. Great and thought provoking article indeed. This is the sort of stuff that makes Unherd a daily must read. I wish I had something insightful to contribute but I don’t – will need to ponder this deeply

Will R
Will R
3 years ago
Reply to  Norman Powers

Me too!

Dave Corby
Dave Corby
3 years ago

I do hope all of this is true – but is it only true for today?
If there is a very long term strategy then we may just be at the stage where they are creating new systems so that they can control everything from the center – such as with the social credit system?
If you can get to a point where a single office can determine who can travel and who is allowed a bank account, internet access, or mobile phone – then everyone can be reigned in to the central strategy.

LCarey Rowland
LCarey Rowland
3 years ago

Lee, this is an incredibly enlightening explanation; it ties a lot of loose ends together. It makes sense.
I visited China in 2009, when my son was working there for a consulting company.
Many of the apparent differences between the Maoist indoctrinators and Deng reformists have been at work for, lo, these many years since 1949.
Here’s one way of putting China into perspective, at least for a yank such as myself.
We Americans had our revolution in the 18th-century. China had theirs in the 20th-century. (You Brits had yours, I suppose, in the 13th-century.)
Our revolution was based upon a supposed Enlightenment, guided by Adam Smith, Hobbes, Mill, Franklin, Jefferson etc.
Chinese revolution was a post-Marx, post Lenin rearrangement.
We began with an emphasis of liberty and free enterprise.
The Chinese began with an emphasis on redistribution.
In classic Hegelian fulfillment,Chinese revolutionaries synthesized the dichotomy between our liberty-seeking and their equality-seeking.
But in the bottom line, it’s all about equality of opportunity, toward which the Chinese appear to be moving, while on this side of the Pacific, our seasoned activists strive to tweak our reforms toward equality of outcome.
Go figure. In the end, only the truly-enlightened Brits have the historical wherewithal to advise in such matters of international import, because the sun never sets on the British (whatever it is that you have now.)
Cheerio! and Nihau. Thanks, Lee, for posting your well-informed perspective on UnHerd..

David Simpson
David Simpson
3 years ago

A very helpful and thought provoking piece, thank you

Julian Farrows
Julian Farrows
3 years ago

the often-dreadful state of Chinaā€™s public lavatories

I can readily testify to this. Having come off the plane, my friend met me and took me to the city park. True to form, after eating airplane food and finding myself in sudden tropical heat, my stomach rebelled against me. After a grim fifteen minute march through the park, I finally found a public lavatory. It was a hole in the ground with no toilet paper. Thankfully there was a woman selling toilet paper by the sheet. After throwing some money at her and snatching the entire roll, I was able to finally relieve myself. It was a truly unpleasant experience, but one in which I learned to carry toilet paper around during my travels in China.

Christopher Bradley
Christopher Bradley
3 years ago

A very convincing article which reinforces my experience as a tourist in China, we encountered fairly open cynicism and criticism of government. Equally we also saw many empty Tower blocks with no lights at night. Beijing railway station had over 20 High speed trains waiting at platforms with no sign of passengers. Capital equipment seemed to be very underused. Yards with many lorries, excavators and cranes standing idle.
There is however a discernable strand of xenophobic racism.

George Wells
George Wells
3 years ago

$3bn on toilet upgrades over the next 18 months – as there are 1.4 billion Chinese, this is just over $1 each annually – this is not a lot of money. If UnHerd is commissing articles from Professors of ‘Political Economy’ – please find one who can count.

Norman Powers
Norman Powers
3 years ago
Reply to  George Wells

How many public toilets do you think each person needs exactly?

G A
G A
3 years ago

Makes me think of how the British empire operated.