After Zhou Yongkang
Where does China’s anti-corruption campaign go from here?
It finally happened: after months of speculation, Zhou Yongkang, the highest-ranking Chinese Communist Party (CCP) official to ever be brought to trial, was sentenced to life in prison on charges of accepting bribes, abusing his power, and disclosing state secrets. It’s the peak of President Xi Jinping’s vaunted campaign to root out corruption from the CCP – but where does Xi go from here?
Under previous administrations, Zhou, formerly a member of the Politburo Standing Committee (PBSC), would have been immune from investigation and prosecution for corruption. There’s always been a tacit agreement that past and present members of the PBSC, the pinnacle of Chinese political power, are immune from any such inconveniences. Zhou has been officially under investigation for nearly a year – and rumors of his impending downfall have been lingering for even longer, since 2012 – so it’s easy to forget just how shocking his ouster really was.
However the question is why, exactly, Xi made an exception and targeted Zhou. There are two main lines of thought, both with direct implications for the future of the campaign. One argument posits that Xi is trying to send a signal that he is serious about cleaning up the CCP. The only way to differentiate Xi’s campaign from its predecessors – which did nothing to stem the rise of corruption in the ranks – is to break political limitations on how far such campaigns can reach.
The other line of thinking is more cynical. Ever since the scandal surrounding Bo Xilai, formerly the CCP chief of Chongqing, broke in earnest in 2012, there have been rumors that Bo and Zhou were politically linked. Overseas Chinese media sources suggested that the two, along with General Xu Caihou, another high-profile “tiger” nabbed in Xi’s anti-corruption campaign, were plotting against Xi, possibly even considering a coup. If that’s the case, then Xi’s fight against corruption may be no more than a more dramatic version of those pursued by Jiang Zemin and Hu Jintao – simply an excuse to eliminate political enemies while consolidating control. Tellingly, these other campaigns, like Xi’s, were launched in the early years after a transfer of power, when new leaders needed to quickly consolidate their positions.
Analysts in this more cynical camp are already speculating that the spectacular fall of Zhou Yongkang signals the practical end of the campaign. Leading credence to that theory, a source told Reuters that the two other top “tigers” in Xi’s crosshairs may escape trial due to health issues. Ling Jihua, a former advisor to President Hu Jintao, has supposedly suffered a “nervous breakdown” that may prevent him from being taken to trial – eliminating the political conundrum of putting on trial a politician closely linked to Xi’s predecessor. Meanwhile, General Guo Boxiong has cancer – but then, so did Xu Caihou, who still suffered the indignity of being formally ousted from the Party (and then died while awaiting trial).
Should Xi want to continue, there’s no end to possible targets, at least according to the rumor mill. Guo is at the top of the list – though many of his associates (including his son) have come under investigation, the Party has yet to formally announce any moves against Guo himself. Most ambitiously, some whisper that Xi may seek to work his way up the political chain toward his predecessors, Hu Jintao and Jiang Zemin, eliminating their power bases. That seems unlikely; though Xi is often described as the most powerful Chinese leader since Deng Xiaoping, there’s no indication that the most high-profile takedowns have come over the objections of past leaders. That’s even true in the case of Ling Jihua, who was closely connected to Hu. The fatal 2012 car crash involving Ling’s son, a Ferrari, and two scantily clad women likely sealed Ling’s fate. CCP attempts to cover up the crash (including pretending that Ling’s son was still alive months after the fact) only compounded the embarrassment – Ling was politically unsalvageable from that point on and likely given up as a lost cause by Hu.
If Xi is unlikely to actually go after Hu and Jiang and their power bases directly, what does come next? No matter how dedicated Xi is to his anti-corruption campaign, he seems more dedicated to ensuring the CCP maintains absolute control over its Party apparatus. That means the sort of institutional changes that could reduce corruption over the long-term – a watchdog-style free press, citizen whistleblowers, and greater freedom for law enforcement to initiate investigations – are unpalatable for Xi. Instead, his institutional changes are limited to more dubious means, such as Party loyalty campaigns and mandatory self-criticisms.
At the same time, Xi’s desire for change has become a hallmark of his leadership already. Should China’s people look around in 2022, the year Xi will retire according to Party norms, and find the CCP just as corrupt as before, it would do lasting damage to Xi’s legacy.
The real question facing Xi’s anti-corruption campaign, then, is not which “tiger” will fall next. The fall of another tiger won’t answer the fundamental question about Xi’s intentions – it could signal either a true and deep-seated commitment to cleaning up the Party or the beginning of a new phase of politically motivated purges. However, a move to institutionalize anti-corruption controls, at least within the limited bounds that Xi is willing to consider, would be more telling.
In this regard, as well-known political scholar Willy Lam has pointed out, the key is watching to see how far Xi is willing to strengthen the hand of the Party’s internal anti-corruption apparatus, the Central Commission for Discipline Inspection (CCDI). If Xi is not willing to delegate Party oversight to independent mechanisms, he must make sure that the internal system works more efficiently to actually catch wrongdoers. Appointing noted political trouble-shooter Wang Qishan to head the CCDI was the single biggest contribution Xi made to the anti-corruption campaign, as Wang has proceeded to turn CCDI from a toothless bureaucracy into China’s most feared organization.
Wang, however, is set to retire in two years, at the 19th Party Congress in 2017, when he will have passed the customary retirement age for Party officials. If Xi is truly committed to weeding out corruption, Lam argues, he will find a way to keep Wang in place at the CCDI until the job of strengthening that department is finished. If Wang is gently forced out, as per custom, it means Xi believes the anti-corruption campaign is over – and that will be our clearest sign that it was never about corruption to begin with.