On Wednesday, China will mark the 76th anniversary of the founding of its People’s Republic.
As in years past, Chinese President Xi Jinping will stand before the iconic Tiananmen Gate under the looming portrait of Mao Zedong and deliver a carefully crafted speech. The message will be familiar: The Communist Party has lifted hundreds of millions out of poverty, puts the Chinese people first, declares reunification with Taiwan as “inevitable,” and is leading China toward its goal of “national rejuvenation.”
Behind the rhetoric lies a harsher truth: Xi has merged patriotism, repression, and personal power into a system controlling 1.4 billion people. The hypocrisy is clear. In China, today, dissent is crushed, the “unpatriotic” punished, and corrupt officials replaced by equally compromised loyalists. This cycle of repression and cronyism doesn’t rejuvenate China — it entrenches Xi’s rule. Though rarely stated, Xi’s actions make clear he views himself, not just the party, as indispensable to this goal.
Yet even as authoritarianism tightens its grip, the Communist Party’s narrative of progress and prosperity resonates with many. Xi’s narrative isn’t just political rhetoric. It finds real expression in the daily lives of millions. On the streets of Beijing and Shanghai, a thriving middle class flaunts Louis Vuitton handbags, Gucci shoes, and the latest iPhones, often while sipping a Starbucks coffee. Luxury cars line the avenues, visible symbols of an economy that former leader Deng Xiaoping set on a market-oriented path more than four decades ago. But beneath this polished surface lies a more precarious reality.
For many Chinese, wealth is a recent and uncertain phenomenon, not the product of strong institutions or legal protections. Corruption, rather than the rule of law, still defines the boundaries of opportunity. Access to contracts, licenses, loans, and state resources often depends on “guanxi” — a system of personal connections and political favoritism, making economic success more reliant on party approval than on individual merit. Surveillance as a tool of power. This fragile foundation of wealth and opportunity is maintained by an extensive security apparatus.
To ensure no opposition disrupts his ambitions, Xi has built the most expansive surveillance state in history. More than 700 million cameras equipped with facial recognition and listening devices line China’s streets. Each device can link an individual’s movements to their national ID, social media posts, purchasing history, and even travel patterns. The data feed into the country’s “social credit system,” which determines whether a citizen can secure a bank loan, book a flight, or access public services. The system forces conformity by design: adopt the patriotic line, or face restricted opportunities. It is Orwell’s 1984 updated with digital efficiency.
Knowing that cameras and algorithms are always watching discourages free thought, open debate, and innovation. Fear replaces trust. However, elites and party members often enjoy immunity, while ordinary people bear the full brunt of scrutiny. This deepens inequality and resentment.
Since taking power in 2012, Xi has targeted millions of officials, including once-rising stars like Bo Xilai. Xi’s narrative is that corruption hinders China’s modernization and that only a disciplined party can lead the country forward. The campaign has targeted loyalty as much as the law. Many purged officials were replaced by Xi’s protégés, creating what analysts describe as the “Xi gang.” In practice, Xi has substituted one group of compromised elites with another — except this time, defined by personal loyalty, ensuring little organized opposition within the party.
This consolidation of power is deeply embedded in the structure of the Communist Party. Every five years, the National Party Congress, which includes roughly 2,300 delegates drawn from the military, provinces, and state-owned enterprises, elects the Central Committee. That body then selects the 29-member Politburo and, most importantly, the seven-member Politburo Standing Committee, the apex of power in China. Over time, the Congress and the Central Committee were stacked with Xi loyalists, resulting in a Politburo Standing Committee — Li Qiang, Zhao Leji, Wang Huning, Cai Qi, Ding Xuexiang, and Li Xi — entirely handpicked by Xi. He now dominates the party’s top organs more thoroughly than any leader since Mao. What makes corruption so pervasive is that party officials often hold overlapping roles in both the party and the state.
Many Politburo members sit on the State Council while simultaneously running ministries, state-owned enterprises, and private businesses that receive lucrative contracts to carry out developmental functions allocated by the party. This dual role creates a glaring conflict of interest: officials are effectively in a position to write and enforce laws that directly benefit the enterprises they also oversee. While anti-nepotism rules formally prohibit family members of senior officials from serving in major state-linked companies, these restrictions are routinely sidestepped. Subsidiaries are created to provide family members with lucrative supervisory roles, allowing powerful officials to enrich themselves while technically complying with the letter of the law. The result is a system in which bribery is common, policies are manipulated to serve personal or family interests, and loyalty to party leadership — not meritocracy, transparency, or accountability — determines who thrives.
A POLLUTION TARIFF WOULD PROTECT FAMILIES
So, yes, Xi will celebrate the progress and the vision of a “great rejuvenation.” But what won’t be mentioned is the hypocrisy at the core of his system. Ordinary Chinese citizens are monitored and constrained at every turn, while party elites operate with near-total impunity. True reform would mean more than purging rivals or installing cameras. It requires genuine transparency, the rule of law, and institutions independent of party control: a judiciary that can rule against officials, a media that can investigate corruption, and a civil society able to organize freely.
Until those elements exist, Xi’s anti-corruption campaign will remain a tool of political survival rather than national renewal. But beneath the patriotic spectacle lies a brittle truth: Xi’s model of governance is not rejuvenating China. It is hollowing out the very institutions that could secure its long-term stability.
Derek Levine is a professor at Monroe College and the King Graduate School. His second book, China’s Path to Dominance: Preparing for Confrontation with the U.S., was released this week.
