Author： Hao， Jiangtao
**“柱弱者屋坏，辅弱者国倾”
“When the pillar is weak, the house collapses.
When the aides are incompetent, the nation falls.”
This ancient Chinese maxim captures a timeless truth about governance: the fate of a regime does not rest on appearances, slogans, or even the might of authority, but on the integrity and competence of its foundational structure—its people, its institutions, and its ideas. A house with rotting beams will collapse, no matter how ornate the roof. A regime staffed with sycophants and incompetents will inevitably stumble, no matter how tightly it controls its narrative.
Under Xi Jinping, the Chinese state increasingly resembles such a precarious structure—magnificent on the outside, yet hollow and brittle within. What began as a campaign for “national rejuvenation” has devolved into a top-heavy apparatus of centralized power, shallow slogans, and bureaucratic decay. The pillars are cracked, the beams are bowed, and the collapse, once unthinkable, now seems inevitable.
I. Loyal But Incompetent: The Collapse of a Governance Team
From the moment Xi took office in 2012, he launched a sweeping anti-corruption campaign that quickly morphed into a political purge. Far from strengthening governance, it dismantled the internal checks and balances of the Chinese Communist Party. Reform-minded leaders like Li Keqiang, Wang Yang, and Zhou Xiaochuan—individuals with technocratic credentials and global experience—were sidelined. In their place, Xi installed a new circle of trusted loyalists: Cai Qi, Li Qiang, and Ding Xuexiang—men with no real governance track record, but proven talent in one area: unflinching loyalty.
This preference for loyalty over competence has had dire consequences. Li Qiang’s disastrous handling of the Shanghai lockdowns in 2022, where residents screamed from their balconies for food and medicine, should have ended his political career. Instead, he was promoted to Premier. Cai Qi, formerly the party chief of Beijing and known for brutally suppressing dissent, now heads the Party Secretariat. These men are not pillars of governance—they are political ornaments, fragile and hollow.
Xi’s “selection model” rejects policy expertise, local governance success, or intellectual merit. The result? A bureaucracy that dares not speak, dares not think, and dares not act—unless given direct orders from the top. In such a system, even routine decisions become dangerous games of interpretation. Mistakes abound, but no one is held accountable. Instead, they are often promoted upward—a classic symptom of terminal institutional decay.
II. Broken Policy, Disastrous Outcomes: From Zero-COVID to Chaos
The regime’s response to COVID-19 laid bare the consequences of ruling through weak subordinates. China’s early containment was hailed as a success, but rather than transitioning to long-term scientific strategies, Xi doubled down on the most extreme form of pandemic control: “Dynamic Zero-COVID.” Cities were sealed off with little warning, people were welded into their homes, and infants were separated from parents under harsh quarantine rules. Entire communities were locked down over a single case.
These measures, far from being rational public health policy, became political rituals—tests of local officials’ loyalty to the top. The longer the lockdowns dragged on, the more absurd the policies became. In late 2022, after the Urumqi fire sparked the “White Paper Revolution,” the regime panicked. In an overnight U-turn, all restrictions were lifted—without preparation, vaccination campaigns, or medical stockpiles. Hospitals were overwhelmed. Fever medicine disappeared. Crematoriums ran day and night. The government, to this day, has not released a reliable death toll.
This was not public policy—it was political theater, with lives as the cost. And the weak pillars? Not a single one fell. No resignations, no accountability. The only thing punished was the protest.
III. Economic Decline: When Planned Economy Thinking Replaces Market Logic
China’s economy is not just slowing—it’s unraveling. Youth unemployment has exceeded 20%. Foreign investment is fleeing. Property giants like Evergrande and Country Garden have collapsed, leaving behind ghost cities and unpaid debts. The “three red lines” policy that triggered the crisis? Hastily designed, poorly communicated, and politically driven. Local governments are bankrupt, teachers are protesting unpaid wages, and small businesses are suffocating under random inspections and contradictory regulations.
At the root of this decay is Xi’s mistrust of the private sector and his obsession with control. Since the 2020 crackdown on Jack Ma’s Ant Group, the entire entrepreneurial class has been chilled. New Oriental, once an education titan, saw its valuation drop over 90% after the regime decimated the tutoring sector. Venture capital has dried up. Young people no longer dream of building companies—they dream of "runxue": fleeing the country.
Meanwhile, flashy slogans like “Common Prosperity,” “Dual Circulation,” and “New Productive Forces” fill the air, but are devoid of content. They are not strategies; they are branding exercises in a collapsing mall. Without trust in the rule of law, without property rights, without bureaucratic competence, there can be no economic future.
IV. Foreign Policy Failures: Isolated, Alienated, Cornered
China’s international standing has plummeted under Xi’s rule. Once a beneficiary of globalization, China is now seen as an assertive, unpredictable power. Relations with the United States have deteriorated into tech warfare and ideological confrontation. Relations with the EU have cooled. Even Belt and Road partner nations are beginning to push back—Sri Lanka, Pakistan, and Kenya have raised concerns over “debt diplomacy” and opaque contracts.
The 2022 Pelosi visit to Taiwan offered a chance to de-escalate. Instead, it became a nationalist spectacle. Military drills around Taiwan—meant to intimidate—only hardened global opinion and escalated tensions. In Hong Kong, the national security law obliterated “One Country, Two Systems.” Once Asia’s financial capital, Hong Kong is now a legal black hole. International firms are leaving. Expats are gone. The dream is dead.
Diplomacy has become an extension of propaganda. China’s ambassadors act like angry bloggers. Strategy has been replaced by reactive posturing. Foreign policy, like domestic policy, is now just another stage performance in Xi Jinping’s theater of power.
V. A Nation of Fear: When Control Replaces Governance
When institutions fail, when logic dies, all that remains is brute control. China today is blanketed by the world’s largest surveillance state. Facial recognition, big data profiling, AI censorship, digital “health codes”—these are not tools for public welfare. They are shackles.
In the name of “stability,” libraries are purging books, artists are silenced, journalists imprisoned, academics disappear. Civil society has been annihilated. Religion is managed, NGOs neutered, and online speech patrolled by bots and informants. Schoolchildren are taught to praise Xi Jinping before they can think critically about history.
Yet beneath the silence lies unrest. Youth “lie flat” rather than participate in a system they see as rigged. Professionals are “quiet quitting” or emigrating. Even within the bureaucracy, morale is plummeting—“do less, err less” has become an unofficial mantra. A regime that rules by fear is already living on borrowed time.
Conclusion: The House Is Already Crackin
Xi Jinping is often compared to Mao Zedong, but the comparison flatters him. Mao, for all his disasters, had an ideological vision, a revolutionary legacy, and an air of charisma. Xi has slogans, loyal footmen, and a surveillance state—but no dream, no talent, no future.
