Xi Jinping and the End of China’s Reform Era
Xi Jinping’s rise marked a shift from fragile reform to authoritarian rule, choking dissent and redefining China’s place in the world.
Learning from Silence: What One Leader’s Consolidation of Power Reveals About China’s Future
For those observing from outside China, Xi Jinping’s ascent to power initially signalled continuity with the past, a cautious steward, perhaps, of the economic legacy left behind by Deng Xiaoping, Hu Jintao, and Wen Jiabao. However, beneath the surface of a technocratic transition, a deeper transformation emerged. What many mistook for humility was, in fact, calculation. Today, Xi Jinping stands not only as China’s most powerful leader since Mao Zedong but also as a polarizing figure who has altered the nation’s political fabric, stifled public discourse, and disrupted the delicate equilibrium of internal Communist Party factions. His tenure has been defined by aggressive consolidation of power, erratic crisis management, and ideological rigidity, raising an urgent question: what happens when a single man silences a nation?
We review the reasons behind the growing discontent toward Xi, both within China’s elite circles and among the global public. It is a chronicle of disillusionment, an anatomy of autocracy in real time, and a call for sustained public engagement in the face of creeping authoritarianism.
The Fall of Collective Leadership: From Consensus to One-Man Rule
Under Hu Jintao and Wen Jiabao, China maintained an internal structure of balancing competing political factions. Though imperfect, this structure offered space for public debate, political reform, and gradual liberalization. There were reformists among the Communist Youth League who pushed for limited village-level elections. Others, particularly from the Shanghai faction, were known for promoting economic liberalization. Even those associated with Bo Xilai’s Maoist revivalism represented a diversity of ideological thought, however problematic.
When Xi Jinping rose to power in 2012, his very selection reflected this tradition. Like his predecessors, Xi was perceived to be an unambitious consensus candidate with no strong faction of his own. It was assumed that he would follow Deng Xiaoping’s blueprint of economic pragmatism, avoid political showmanship, and preserve internal balance. This assumption proved tragically mistaken.
Rather than maintain the collective leadership model, Xi dismantled it entirely. Beginning with a sweeping anti-corruption campaign that removed or silenced rivals across the political spectrum, he restructured the Communist Party into a rigid vertical hierarchy with himself at the apex. The 2018 decision to abolish presidential term limits formalized what had already become apparent: the era of reformist plurality was over. Xi had become the system.
Hong Kong, Taiwan, and the Weaponization of Nationalism
Xi’s ideology, often presented as “Socialism with Chinese Characteristics for a New Era,” hinges on loyalty, centralization, and control. These values manifested forcefully in Beijing’s approach to Hong Kong and Taiwan. During the 2019 Hong Kong protests, state-run media framed calls for democracy as destabilizing threats, and pro-democracy messages were swiftly banned on social media platforms. The once-vibrant city, long a symbol of East-meets-West dynamism, has since endured sweeping national security legislation that criminalizes dissent and suffocates civil society.
Xi’s approach to Taiwan echoes similar themes. Rather than propose reconciliation or mutual economic benefit, he intensified military posturing and diplomatic isolation, fuelling tensions across the Taiwan Strait. By prioritizing ideological conformity over genuine dialogue, Xi has hardened resistance and alienated communities that once saw integration with mainland China as a viable, even desirable, option.
COVID-19 and the Crisis of Credibility
Perhaps nowhere did Xi’s failings become more apparent than during the COVID-19 pandemic. At the outbreak’s onset in Wuhan, Premier Li Keqiang was dispatched to lead on-the-ground efforts while Xi remained in Beijing, absent from public view. Government messaging initially claimed the virus was “completely preventable and predictable”, a statement that grossly underestimated the scale and severity of the crisis.
As lockdowns intensified, often without clear communication or proper infrastructure, social trust eroded. Citizens were confined under draconian measures, while accurate information was suppressed in favour of state-directed narratives. When China’s early containment measures proved effective in 2020, Xi reemerged, claiming personal credit for the country’s pandemic response. He never visited the Wuhan hospitals himself, instead opting for a symbolic video call with healthcare workers. The optics were clear: when leadership demanded risk, Xi disappeared. When outcomes turned positive, he returned to collect accolades.
The Death of Li Keqiang and a Nation’s Suspicion
Xi’s strained relationship with Li Keqiang became emblematic of broader fractures within the Chinese political elite. Li, widely respected for his economic acumen and measured approach, was repeatedly sidelined during his premiership. His unexpected death in 2023 at only 68 sparked suspicions among the public and political observers alike. While official explanations pointed to a heart attack, the lack of transparency and the timing, amid growing discontent with Xi’s leadership, left a vacuum filled by doubt and speculation.
Censorship and Cultural Regression
Beyond politics, Xi’s tenure has reshaped Chinese culture itself. Once home to award-winning films such as “A Touch of Sin” and “American Dreams in China”, the nation’s cinema has been reduced to bombastic nationalist spectacles like “Wolf Warrior” or recycled foreign blockbusters. Artistic expression, once a mirror of societal complexity, has become a tool for state propaganda.
This cultural shift parallels the suffocation of the internet. Xi’s administration has implemented some of the most sophisticated censorship mechanisms in the world, blocking foreign platforms, silencing independent journalists, and criminalizing dissent. Entire realms of human experience, grief, satire, and critical analysis have been scrubbed from China’s online spaces, leaving only state-approved echoes.
The Shadow of Corruption and the Price of Loyalty
Xi’s anti-corruption campaign, though popular among many Chinese citizens, served a dual purpose: cleansing the bureaucracy and consolidating personal power. High-profile targets included defence ministers, party secretaries, and energy executives. Some, like Lai Xiaomin and Li Jianping, were executed. Others received life sentences or simply disappeared from public life. While corruption in China was, and remains, a critical issue, the campaign selectively enforced punishment based more on political loyalty than legal culpability.
The result is a hollowed-out bureaucracy, fearful of initiative and prone to paralysis. Those who speak too loudly are removed; those who speak too little are promoted. In such an environment, genuine reform becomes not only impossible but also dangerous.
A Nation Lost in the Fog
Under Xi, China has lost its internal compass. The dream of gradual political reform, once fragile but tangible, has been extinguished. The economy now wavers under the weight of mismanaged policies, declining birthrates, and soaring youth unemployment. Shanghai, once slated to rival New York and London as a global financial hub, has seen its ascent blunted. Hong Kong, once a beacon of the rule of law and free press, has been reduced to just another city under central control.
Singapore, by contrast, has emerged as the de facto Asian financial centre, a role that once seemed destined for China’s cosmopolitan coast. In trying to control everything, Xi has inadvertently ceded ground.
What Can Be Done and Why We Must Speak Out
This is not merely a story about one man. It is a story about how power, when left unchecked, can distort institutions, erode freedoms, and corrupt even the noblest ambitions. China’s transformation under Xi should alarm not only Chinese citizens but also the global community. It challenges the belief that economic modernization will inevitably lead to liberalization. It confronts the assumption that international engagement alone can encourage openness.
To resist this slide into authoritarianism, we must remain engaged. We must support platforms that amplify Chinese voices in exile. We must call for transparency when officials disappear without explanation. And we must hold our leaders accountable when they choose trade over truth.
Most importantly, we must remember that silence is not neutrality. In a world where Xi’s model of governance is increasingly exported and admired by illiberal regimes, the need for vigilance has never been greater.
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Because in a time of engineered forgetting, remembering, deeply, actively, is itself a form of resistance.