As China’s wealth grows under a capitalist market system, cracks in the facade of unity surrounding Xi Jinping’s reign inevitably emerge. Challenges from ambitious factions and individuals are met with methods characteristic of authoritarian regimes. Yet, Xi’s most formidable challenge may lie not in addressing these adversaries today but in preparing for the inevitable question of what comes after he steps down.

Xi knows his eventual passing will disrupt the intricate stability that has come to characterize China’s modern history. History’s cautionary tales offer a glimpse into the turbulence that can follow the death of a totalitarian leader.

Soviet Premier Joseph Stalin’s final hours, for instance, saw his inner circle—figures like Lavrentiy Beria, Nikita Khrushchev, and Georgy Malenkov—engage in a power struggle to seize control. Khrushchev, through his loyalty and competence, ultimately consolidated his position, but not without upheaval. The Chinese Communist Party (CCP) must ensure that a similar power vacuum does not destabilize China after Xi’s passing. Without a well-executed succession plan, the CCP risks chaos akin to the downfall of past dynasties.

The CCP’s resilience lies in its ability to identify and elevate individuals who are both competent and deeply loyal to the regime. Drawing on a tradition that dates back thousands of years, China’s political hierarchy functions with the precision of the Han dynasty’s civil service exams. This ancient system—designed to filter the most capable for government roles—has evolved into today’s rigorous bureaucracy. Xi Jinping ascended through this process, and his successor will likely be chosen the same way. The CCP’s structure ensures that only those who demonstrate unwavering fealty and proven effectiveness rise through the ranks, from village governance to provincial leadership.

Even so, Xi’s leadership diverges sharply from those of his predecessors. Unlike Mao Zedong, who claimed power through military victories during the Chinese Civil War, Xi has maneuvered within the boundaries of the modern bureaucratic system. His decision to extend his presidency beyond the customary two terms exemplifies his desire to rise above even the unspoken rules of the CCP. This break with precedent, announced in 2022, underscores the extent of Xi’s consolidation of power. His tenure has been marked by a relentless purge of rivals under the guise of anti-corruption campaigns, ensuring that only loyalists populate his inner circle.

Such measures echo the strategies of other authoritarian leaders, from Vladimir Putin to Stalin. The calculated removal of rivals—often sudden and unexpected—serves as a potent reminder to those who remain: dissent will not be tolerated. The fear instilled by these purges solidifies loyalty, albeit at the cost of long-term stability. Like Mao before him, Xi’s rule rests on a precarious pyramid of power, with loyalty to the leader as its fragile cornerstone.

Economically, Xi Jinping confronts a dilemma that sets him apart from his predecessors. The rapid industrialization and globalization that fueled China’s meteoric rise have reached their limits. Slowing economic growth and declining birth rates mirror the trajectories of other developed Asian economies, such as Japan and South Korea. Recognizing this, Xi appears to be reviving Maoist tactics, relying on fear and loyalty as mechanisms of control. His policies, while modern in execution, are rooted in principles that prioritize the state’s preservation over individual prosperity.

The CCP’s capacity to endure shocks underscores its durability as a political system. Even in the unlikely event of Xi’s departure, the party’s structure is designed to maintain continuity. Like the Kim dynasty in North Korea, the CCP has safeguards to prevent derailment, ensuring that the regime remains intact regardless of individual leadership changes. This continuity reveals a critical truth: the CCP operates not merely as a political entity but as the latest iteration of China’s millennia-old dynastic cycle.

Understanding such a system is a challenge for outsiders, particularly those in democratic nations. Western democracies operate on the premise that governments serve the people and are accountable to them. In contrast, autocracies like China’s invert this dynamic: the people serve the regime, which is accountable only to itself. This fundamental difference fuels persistent misunderstandings and tensions in Sino-Western relations.

Xi’s influence on China’s global standing is less pronounced than many assume. The trajectory of Sino-U.S. relations, for example, is shaped more by American interests than by Xi’s decisions. U.S. businesses and policymakers exert significant influence over the direction of this relationship, often driven by conflicting agendas. American automakers, lobbying for protectionist policies, contrast sharply with tech giants advocating for open markets.

Meanwhile, Xi, constrained by his political system, has limited room to maneuver. His priority remains domestic stability; any actions that provoke or appease the U.S. must be carefully calibrated to avoid backlash at home, thereby undermining his power.

The broader narrative surrounding Xi Jinping and China’s global role is less about individual leadership and more about the enduring mechanisms of power within the CCP. Xi’s policies—from anti-corruption campaigns to economic strategies—reflect the regime’s unyielding focus on survival.

For the West, understanding China’s system requires a shift in perspective: meaningful change within the CCP is unlikely to come from external pressure. Instead, it will emerge—if at all—from within through processes Xi has meticulously fortified to prevent dissent.