Xi Jinping’s slow-motion nosedive from China’s throne is less a political drama than a masterclass in how to botch a nation. Beijing’s strongman, once hailed as the eternal helmsman, is now steering a ship that’s springing leaks faster than his censors can plug them. Economic wobbles, public grumbling, and a leadership drunk on its own myth expose the rot of hyper-centralised rule.
But this isn’t just China’s circus—democracies, with their messy debates and fragile guardrails, can stumble into the same traps if they’re not vigilant.
Picture a cautionary tale, served with a smirk and a shiver, as we unpack why China’s mess is a 900-word warning for every democracy to keep its house in order. Buckle up; the lessons are sharper than the Beijing’s People’s Liberation Army.
China’s last decade under Xi has been a textbook case of building a throne on quicksand. He didn’t just seize power; he vacuumed it up, scrapping term limits, turning anti-corruption drives into rival purges, and cloaking himself in a personality cult so palpable it makes North Korea’s propaganda look like a shy adolescent. Xi didn’t stop at rewriting the constitution—he mandated a university course on ‘Xi Jinping Thought’, a self-aggrandising syllabus that’s less education and more hagiography.
Imagine the gall: a leader so enamored with himself he demands a nation study his brilliance, as if wisdom begins and ends with his name. The economy, meanwhile, is a shimmering mirage—state-fuelled projects and a property bubble ready to pop.
Now, the cracks are glaring: youth unemployment’s through the stratosphere, exports are wheezing, and the property sector’s less a market than a graveyard of bad loans.
Xi’s zero-Covid obsession, once paraded as genius, turned into a bureaucratic fever dream—lockdowns so suffocating they sparked protests in a country where dissent is a one-way ticket to nowhere. When citizens took to the streets, it wasn’t just about masks; it was a primal roar against a system that forgot how to listen.
Democracies, perk up: centralizing power is a one-way ticket to a cliff. China’s one-man show thrives on silence—nobody dares call out the emperor when he’s stark naked. When Xi clung to zero-Covid, then flipped to reopening without a playbook, the lack of pushback turned a misstep into a catastrophe.
Democracies have guardrails—judges who aren’t yes-men, reporters who snoop, opposition parties that squawk. But those aren’t bulletproof. Leaders who chip away at them—bullying courts, smearing journalists, or branding critics as traitors—are playing Xi’s game, just with better branding.
The fix? Keep the messy machinery of checks and balances humming, or watch your system wobble like China’s.
The personality cult around Xi is a screaming red flag, and democracies should take note before they start penning their own love letters to leaders. Mandating a course on ‘Xi Jinping Thought’ isn’t just ego on steroids—it’s a deliberate erasure of debate. It’s as if a leader decided to award themselves a medal for greatness, after consulting their own mirror.
Picture a democracy where a prime minister nominates themselves for the highest honour, debates it with their own ego, and then pins the medal on their own chest—laughable, yet chillingly possible if institutions erode. Such self-worship is antithetical to democracy’s core: the idea that no one is above scrutiny, and power is a lease, not a crown. When leaders start craving adulation over accountability, they’re not just flirting with authoritarianism; they’re swiping right on it. Democracies must keep their leaders human-sized—celebrated, sure, but never canonised. Anything else risks a slide into the cultish swamp where dissent is heresy and loyalty is the only curriculum.
Economic mismanagement is China’s next gift to the ‘how to botch up a country’ handbook. Youth unemployment at record highs, a property sector imploding, exports on life support—Xi’s bet on state control over innovation turned a juggernaut into a jalopy. His ‘common prosperity’ mantra spooked entrepreneurs, while tech crackdowns sent moguls and their money bolting for the exits.
Democracies aren’t immune to this brand of stupidity. Populist promises—tax cuts with no math, subsidies for dying industries—can hollow out economies faster than you can say ‘recession’.
The difference? Democracies have tools to catch the slide: elections to oust duds, press to call out nonsense, debates to hash out fixes. But those only work if leaders don’t dodge accountability like it’s a tax audit. Ignore structural reforms for quick applause, and you’re one bad policy away from a China-style economic faceplant. The lesson? Keep markets dynamic, not dogmatic, and don’t let ideology choke innovation.
Dissent, that pesky thing China can’t stomach, is another wake-up call. Protests over zero-Covid weren’t just about policy; they were a middle finger to a regime that thought it could muzzle a billion voices. Even in a surveillance dystopia, people found ways to vent—cryptic online posts, street chants, sheer defiance. Democracies have a head start: protests, free speech, and pesky NGOs are baked into the system. But when governments tighten the screws—censoring social media, banning rallies, or harassing activists—they’re not just borrowing China’s playbook; they’re inviting its chaos. Dissent isn’t a glitch; it’s the safety valve that keeps societies from exploding. Clamp it shut, and you’re brewing a rebellion in slow motion. Democracies must keep those valves open, letting voices roar, even when they sting.
Ideology over pragmatism is China’s next blunder. Xi’s fixation on state dominance and ideological purity kneecapped innovation, chased away capital, and turned tech giants into cautionary tales. His ‘Xi Jinping Thought’ isn’t just a course—it’s a mindset that prioritises loyalty over logic. Democracies, you’re not off the hook. When partisan holy wars—over climate, welfare, or culture—override evidence, you get policies that sparkle in speeches but flop in reality. China’s tech purge showed what happens when dogma drives the bus: markets tank, talent flees, and you’re left preaching to bureaucrats. Democracies need to keep their heads screwed on, balancing principles with policies that don’t collapse under scrutiny.
China’s global swagger, now stumbling, is the final lesson. The Belt and Road Initiative, once Xi’s ticket to world domination, is choking on debt defaults and geopolitical pushback. Democracies, don’t get cocky. Overextending abroad—reckless wars, blank-check aid—can bleed you dry at home. Global clout starts with a strong foundation: fix your economy, listen to your people, don’t bet the farm on foreign applause.
China’s mess isn’t just Xi’s funeral; it’s a mirror for democracies. One-man rule, personality cults, economic denialism, silenced voices, ideological blind spots, reckless ambition—these aren’t just authoritarian oopsies; they’re temptations any system can fall for.
Democracies have the edge: institutions that check power, economies that reward risk, societies that let voices roar. But those edges dull without care. Leaders who mistake criticism for betrayal, citizens who shrug at eroded freedoms, systems that resist change—they’re all one step from China’s quicksand.