The Beidaihe summit can trace its history back to the Mao era, when senior Party figures would gather at the resort in late July or early August to escape Beijing's sweltering summer heat. As the years passed, the unofficial meetings transformed Beidaihe into a key venue, cherished for its informality and privacy for hashing out political and strategic issues. When China embarked on "Reform and Opening" during the tenures of Deng Xiaoping and Jiang Zemin, Beidaihe also served as a forum for reconciling diverging views on the best path forward for Chinese reform. In the early years of the People's Republic, the conference was a critical arena for practicing the system of intraparty checks and balances that Deng believed was essential to bringing China out from under strongman Mao's shadow. And so, the evolving summit helped pave the way for the formalization of political appointments and policymaking that China's leaders hoped would someday render the Beidaihe conference obsolete.
The President's Power Grab
It is hard to tell what (if anything) of importance will emerge from this year's meetings. That said, the conference comes against the backdrop of a dramatic overhaul in the Chinese political structure. Over the past four years, Xi's anti-corruption campaign has not only eliminated many of the most powerful politicians of his predecessor's administration — Zhou Yongkang, Ling Jihua and Xu Caihou, to name a few — but also effectively decapitated their influential patronage networks. In doing so, the anti-corruption drive has greatly contributed to Xi's efforts to concentrate power within his inner circle and develop new ways of wielding that power through policy. Signs of these changes can be seen throughout the Chinese political landscape — in the reorganization of China's military, for example, and in the proliferation of leading small groups in areas such as economic reform.
Xi's drive to consolidate power received another boost when Chinese authorities announced plans Aug. 2 to revamp the Communist Youth League. Founded in 1920 as a means to identify and train promising young individuals, the organization quickly became one of the Communist Party's biggest power bases. Under the rule of Hu Jintao, who rose to power through the league and served as its first secretary in 1984-85, the group's clout grew as Hu quietly placed its former members in key provincial and central government posts. Throughout the 2000s, the "league faction," as it was known, was widely seen as one of three dominant forces in Chinese politics and a privileged fast track into the upper echelons of Party and government.
The league's history makes Beijing's recent announcement of a plan to reorganize it — and in particular, to downsize its bureaucracy and refocus its efforts on local activities — all the more notable. The move will undoubtedly limit the league's potential as a path to political power. The reorganization's impact, and the amount of opposition it could face, can perhaps best be estimated by the footprint the league's alumni already have on the top tiers of Chinese politics. Presently, four of the seven men on the Politiburo Standing Committee, China's most powerful political body, have ties to the Communist Youth League. Moreover, 13 members of the 25-person Politburo, from which the standing committee is selected, have served in the league. Meanwhile, 37 of the Central Committee's 205 members have some relationship to the organization. Put simply, the league's network is vast, stretching nationwide and reaching into virtually every region, Party bureau and level of government. It comprises numerous officials in key central and local government posts, including those of the premier, secretaries of important regions, and the chiefs of China's security and propaganda apparatuses.
Of course, not all of these officials maintain close ties with the league. For many, their affiliation is limited to membership with a local branch some 20 or 30 years ago, when their careers were just beginning. Communist Party General Office chief Li Zhanshu, for instance, is widely regarded as one of Xi's closest allies, but he served as the secretary of the league's Hebei branch from 1986 to 1990. Affiliation with the Communist Youth League does not necessarily imply participation in the league faction, a particular view on its reorganization, or a specific relationship to Xi and his attempts to centralize power. Even so, for many Chinese officials, the league has been a central and enduring feature of their political careers, identities and views on core issues, including urban-rural inequality and inland development.
Clues of What's to Come
Reducing the league's use as a vehicle for rising through the ranks of Chinese bureaucracy — and by extension, lessening its appeal as a patronage network for the country's future leaders — reflects a monumental shift in Chinese politics. It is a shift, moreover, that could have consequences for the course of China's economic policies and the pace at which the country implements reform. Whether these consequences will come about, though, will become clearer only after the next Communist Party Congress in October 2017, when five members of the Politburo Standing Committee are due to retire. Which officials step down — and which candidates replace them — will reveal a great deal about where the Communist Party is headed. It will also indicate just how successful Xi has been in dismantling China's alternative patronage networks and ensuring his allies' control over key Party and state organs.
But next October is still a long way away. Until then, events such as the Beidaihe conference will provide useful clues about the crosscurrents running beneath the veneer of calm that the Communist Party leadership has so carefully crafted.
