As whispers of power struggles and purges swirl in Beijing, experts are already planning for a world without the Chinese Communist Party. What does this mean for China’s future?
The air in Beijing feels heavy with secrets. Behind the carefully curated facade of Chinese politics, something is shifting. Xi Jinping, the man who has ruled China with an iron grip for over a decade, seems to be losing his hold. Rumors of military discontent, cryptic purges, and a first lady’s mysterious disappearance are piling up, painting a picture of a regime under strain. Even more striking, Western think tanks are openly discussing a future without the Chinese Communist Party (CCP). Is this the beginning of the end for Xi and the CCP, or just another chapter in China’s opaque power games? Let’s unpack the signs, the stakes, and what history tells us about where this could lead.
The Signals: Cracks in Xi’s Armor
Chinese politics thrives on secrecy, but the CCP has a way of sending signals if you know where to look. Right now, those signals are flashing red. Xi Jinping, once omnipresent in state media, has been oddly absent from key events. He skipped the BRICS summit in Brazil, citing a “scheduling conflict” that turned out to be a low-key visit to a World War II memorial in Shanxi province. Alone, with no entourage except a single vice premier, Xi looked isolated in photos, shrouded in fog. Meanwhile, back in Beijing, a rival faction stole the spotlight at a major commemoration event for the Sino-Japanese War.
Then there’s Peng Liyuan, Xi’s wife and a famous singer. She vanished from public view for months after a May 13, 2025, meeting with Brazil’s first lady. Rumors exploded—divorce, house arrest, even an affair with an aide. The CCP, clearly rattled, orchestrated a bizarre reappearance on July 17 at a youth exchange event in Beijing. But the event had already ended, and Peng’s speech felt like a staged attempt to quash gossip. Why the secrecy? Why the rush to show her face? These aren’t random coincidences; they’re the kind of carefully managed moves that hint at deeper unrest.
The military, too, is sending mixed messages. Xi, as chairman of the Central Military Commission (CMC), hasn’t been seen at military events since late 2024. The CMC, once a seven-member body, is down to three active members: Zhang Youxia, Liu Zhenli, and Zhang Shengmin. The others? One was stripped of titles, another vanished, and rumors suggest he may be dead. When Zhang Youxia, the sole active vice chairman, visited the planning office for the September 3 military parade—marking the 80th anniversary of World War II’s end—military leaders reportedly insisted he inspect the troops, not Xi. Some even threatened a boycott if Xi took the role. That’s not just insubordination; it’s a public slap in the face.
A Regime Under Pressure
These aren’t isolated incidents. They point to a broader unraveling. Xi’s aggressive purges—targeting military officers, party officials, and even his own allies—have bred resentment. The People’s Liberation Army (PLA) is now facing yet another “cleansing” campaign, with a July 22 directive calling for the removal of “toxic influences” and a “self-revolution” in loyalty. The language is vague, ominously so. In the past, such purges named specific enemies—corrupt officials or disloyal generals. This time, no names are mentioned, which suggests the target might be too sensitive to say out loud. Could it be Xi himself?
The appointment of a new director for the Special Service Bureau, which guards vice state-level officials, adds fuel to the fire. The new director, Ling Ji, is a loyalist to Cai Qi, the powerful head of the Central Security Bureau (CSB) and a longtime Xi ally. But whispers suggest Cai may have switched sides, consolidating control over both security agencies. If true, this is a seismic shift. In a regime where loyalty is everything, a betrayal at this level could spell doom for Xi’s authority.
Then there’s the August deadline. U.S. Treasury Secretary Scott Bessent, in a TV interview, mentioned a “big conclave” in early August 2025, a secretive leadership meeting that could decide Xi’s fate. The word “conclave”—loaded with connotations of papal elections—suggests high stakes. Will Xi step down? Be sidelined? Or fight to hold on? The September 3 military parade will be a litmus test. If Xi doesn’t inspect the troops, it’s a clear sign his grip on the military has slipped.
Historical Echoes: Power Struggles in the CCP
China’s political history is a graveyard of leaders who overreached. Mao Zedong’s Cultural Revolution, meant to cement his power, left scars that took decades to heal. Deng Xiaoping’s reforms opened the economy but also sowed the seeds of factionalism. Xi’s consolidation of power—abolishing term limits, purging rivals—looked like a masterstroke in 2018. But history shows that absolute control often breeds rebellion. The CCP’s inner workings are a black box, but power shifts rarely happen in public. When Mao’s chosen successor, Lin Biao, fell from grace in 1971, it was shrouded in mystery—officially a plane crash, unofficially a coup gone wrong. Is Xi facing a similar fate?
The rumors about Peng Liyuan echo another historical parallel: Jiang Qing, Mao’s wife, who became a scapegoat during the Cultural Revolution’s fallout. Some speculate Xi’s camp is fueling rumors about Peng to deflect from his own liabilities, particularly the mysterious death of Li Keqiang, the former premier. Li’s death in 2023 sparked wild speculation, with some pointing fingers at Xi. By painting Peng as the villain, Xi’s handlers might hope to shield him from blame. But if Peng’s rumored divorce letter to Li’s widow is real, it suggests she’s fighting back. In CCP politics, even family ties are weapons.
The Post-CCP Conversation: Is Collapse Imminent?
While Beijing wrestles with its internal dramas, Western scholars are looking beyond Xi to a post-CCP China. On July 17, 2025, the Hudson Institute released a 128-page report titled China After Communism: Preparing for a Post-CCP China. Led by Miles Yu, a former advisor to Mike Pompeo, the report argues that the CCP’s collapse isn’t just possible—it’s plausible. China faces a perfect storm: an economic slowdown, a housing crisis, youth unemployment, an aging population, and systemic corruption. Internationally, trade tensions with the West and unsustainable lending in the Global South are eroding Beijing’s influence.
The report’s recommendations are bold but contentious. It calls for stabilizing a post-CCP China through measures like deploying U.S. special forces to prevent looting, securing biological weapons facilities, and dismantling the PLA’s politicized units. It envisions a truth and reconciliation process, opening CCP archives, and privatizing state-owned enterprises. A constitutional convention could pave the way for federal-style governance. But is this realistic? China isn’t a small nation like post-WWII Japan, where U.S.-led reforms took root. The CCP’s grip has warped society for decades, blurring the lines between victim and perpetrator. As one observer noted, “Everyone has committed a crime against someone else.” How do you rebuild trust in a society so deeply fractured?
The Cultural Challenge: Can China Heal?
The Hudson report assumes a level of order that may not exist. China’s 5,000-year history offers a rich tapestry of values—Confucian principles like kindness, justice, and wisdom—that could guide reconciliation. But the CCP has spent decades erasing these traditions, replacing them with propaganda and fear. Restoring trust won’t happen through Western-style legal systems alone. As one commentator put it, “If everyone seeks justice against everyone, they’ll kill each other.” A deeper cultural rediscovery is needed, one that lets the Chinese people redefine who they are.
This is where the West’s role gets tricky. The report’s call for U.S. intervention—however well-intentioned—could backfire. Many Chinese, even those who dislike the CCP, might see it as American meddling. The collapse of the Soviet Union offers a cautionary tale: rapid democratization led to chaos, oligarchs, and resentment. China’s scale makes the stakes even higher. A power vacuum could trigger regional fragmentation or worse. Yet doing nothing isn’t an option either. A collapsing China could destabilize the global economy, disrupt supply chains, and spark conflicts across Asia.
Geopolitical Ripples: The World Watches
The uncertainty in Beijing has global implications. If Xi’s grip weakens, who fills the void? Zhang Youxia, Cai Qi, or an unknown player? The September parade will be a public test, but the real decisions are happening now, in smoky backrooms. Meanwhile, the U.S. is hedging its bets. Treasury Secretary Bessent’s comments suggest Washington is preparing for a leadership change. Rumors of a Trump visit to Beijing in October 2025—possibly to meet the “real” power brokers—hint at a pragmatic approach. But dealing with a post-CCP China would require finesse, not force.
Then there’s Russia. Putin is set to visit China in September, and a Xi-Putin meeting could signal business as usual—or a desperate attempt to shore up alliances. The CCP’s convoluted politics make it harder to predict than North Korea’s straightforward dynasty. As one observer quipped, “North Korea is just a communist empire. The CCP is worse—it’s deceptive.” That deception has lulled the West before, and we can’t afford to be blindsided again.
Conclusion: A Moment of Truth
China stands at a crossroads. Xi Jinping’s rule, once unassailable, is showing cracks. The military’s defiance, the security apparatus’s shifting loyalties, and the whispers of a post-CCP future all point to a regime in crisis. But what comes next? A peaceful transition seems unlikely without a reckoning—both with the CCP’s legacy and China’s own identity. The world must prepare, not just for Xi’s fall, but for the ripple effects across Asia and beyond. For now, all eyes are on August and September 2025. The signals are clear, but the outcome is anything but.
