Xi’s Schadenfreude Over Moscow’s Mutiny

In war, more things often go wrong than right. If that inconvenient truth was somehow lost on Chinese leader Xi Jinping more than 16 months into Russia’s planned two-day takeover of Ukraine, then last weekend’s rebellion and march toward Moscow by the Wagner Group surely set him straight. Indeed, while Xi often champions the ostensible novelty of the Chinese system, deep down he fears that China is afflicted by the very same ideological ills that once plagued the Soviet Union—and continue to curse its Russian remnants.

Chief among these ills, according to Xi himself, are “political corruption, ideological heresy, and military disloyalty,” all of which were on full display during last weekend’s Russian rumble.

Moscow’s short-lived mutiny, led by a wealthy, well-armed former member of Russian President Vladimir Putin’s innermost circle, represents the sum of Xi’s greatest fears about China’s post-Deng Xiaoping political framework. No doubt, Putin is Xi’s “best, most intimate friend.” But Xi has hardly been shy about criticizing Putin’s perverse preference for power sharing, whereby the Russian leader lets competing factions vie to keep each other in check. If nothing else, last weekend’s dramatic events re-affirmed Xi’s intense distrust of any form of pluralism—even within a country’s power elite—and will likely lead him to pursue ever more radical policies aimed at making the world less safe for democracy.

Generally speaking, Xi and Putin agree on most everything, with one major exception: the reason for the Soviet Union’s demise. In Xi’s estimation, the Soviet Communist Party’s rule did not collapse as a result of any specific external pressure, nor because of the structural fragility inherent in the Soviet Union’s state-directed economy. Instead, Xi asserts the “great Soviet socialist nation fell to pieces,” seemingly overnight, because its “ideals and beliefs [were] shaken.” Putin, meanwhile, has long argued economics, not ideology, led to a collapse in the Soviet Union’s social sphere. The elite infighting that followed, Putin posits, gave rise to long-term consequences in the political sphere and, eventually, the Soviet Union’s self-destruction.

Based on these differing diagnoses, Xi and Putin have pursued wildly divergent strongman strategies—the former relying on purges and purposeful political discipline, the latter on graft and growing his coterie of cronies, a group that until recently included Wagner chief Yevgeny Prigozhin. If the failed rebellion is any indication, Xi’s initial ideological instincts were right all along.

No doubt, the seeds of Prigozhin’s short-lived mutiny were sown the moment Putin foolishly embraced paramilitaries as foreign-policy force multipliers. But the veneer of competence and control long synonymous with Putin’s 20-plus years in power truly began to crumble last month, when explosive-laden drones penetrated Russian air defenses and struck several apartment buildings in Moscow. In that moment, the Kremlin’s misadventures in Ukraine became too serious for the Russian power elite—the siloviki, such as Prigozhin—to ignore.

Now, Putin’s problems are Xi’s, too. For if the Soviet Union could implode so suddenly and unexpectedly, Xi surely realizes the same fate could befall Beijing’s junior partner.

Beijing’s near-term challenge is compounded by its limited, almost myopic, insight into Russian decision-making. That extends to accurately assessing whether long-simmering resentment and recriminations over Putin’s failed attempts to subjugate Ukraine might lead other disgruntled elites to exploit Russia’s current power vacuum. Even worse for Beijing is the begrudging realization that it is merely a bystander in Putin’s Ukraine power play—incapable of either helping Moscow win the war outright or effecting a diplomatic solution that ensures Putin, and by extension Xi, can save some much-needed face. Indeed, with prominent Chinese theorists speculating that time may no longer be on Putin’s side, Xi must now grapple with losing the very great-power clash he set in motion against the West.

If history and Xi’s previous actions are any guide, he will channel Putin’s predicament into doubling down on his preference for rigid top-down policymaking at the expense of the entrepreneurial, collaborative hallmarks that embodied the Deng era. Abroad, China will lead like-minded authoritarian partners in deepening their interference in both developing and developed countries. Their collective goal: to destabilize democracies and make the world less dangerous for dictators.

Yet however vindicated Xi may feel today about Putin’s style of governance, his schadenfreude may not see too many tomorrows. Sure, Xi’s years-long anti-corruption campaign, one that targeted both prominent “tigers” and small-time “flies,” rooted out political disloyalty within the party and sidelined potential rivals. Xi similarly enhanced his direct control over China’s armed forces, for instance by reforming China’s military reserve command structure to reduce the number of bureaucratic layers between himself and the individual soldier. Xi, too, maintains a very watchful eye on paramilitaries, which are prohibited from using force.

But Xi’s geopolitical and economic mismanagement has contributed to a genuine crisis of confidence about the party’s legitimacy, including its ability to achieve economic growth, social stability, and national unity. Xi’s myriad challenges are set to worsen on account of China’s rapidly deteriorating external environment and precipitous economic slowdown, not to mention the ongoing onslaught of Western export controls aimed at thwarting the country’s technological ambitions. Put differently, Xi appears on the cusp of confronting the very misfortunes that befell Putin. What remains unclear is whether Xi’s unique brand of party-centric nationalism and state-directed ideology, both so clearly missing from Moscow’s milieu, will be enough to salvage the China dream—or lead to its demise.

No doubt, Xi’s Marxist-Leninist mindset, combined with a consolidation of power, makes China’s regime more resilient today than Russia’s. But in rejecting collective leadership and installing himself as the country’s sole arbiter of ideology and policy, Xi has tied China’s great rejuvenation to his personal performance and judgment, with the latter taking a massive hit following last weekend’s events in Russia. For if Xi’s bad bet on Putin is any indication, China’s success remains anything but assured.