Bi Ruixie (2018): Would Xi Jinping Dare to Order a Massacre?

Editor’s Note (November 27, 2022):

A deadly fire in Urumqi ignited a wave of public anger across mainland China. In the face of unusually intense protests, local authorities responded with unexpected restraint. In my view, this was because they urgently sought instructions from Xi Jinping—and Xi, caught in hesitation, had not yet given a clear directive. In other words, at that very moment, Xi Jinping was likely grappling with a grave decision: whether to order a forceful crackdown.

On August 11, 2018, I published an essay titled Would Xi Jinping Dare to Order a Massacre? In it, I raised—perhaps ahead of its time—a question born of a writer’s instinct: if political turmoil were to erupt, would Xi Jinping dare to issue such an order?

By Bi Ruixie (Writer, New York)

Storm clouds gather, and the wind fills the tower before the rain. Chinese society, burdened by long-accumulated and seemingly insoluble contradictions, appears to be approaching a critical threshold. With apprehension, I pose the question in advance: if unrest breaks out, would Xi Jinping dare to order a massacre?

Here, the term “massacre” is invoked not as a moral judgment but as a cold political instrument—much as one might ask whether Xi dares to pilot a plane. Ethics are not the focus of this inquiry; power is.

History suggests that mass killing has often been regarded as a brutal yet effective method of seizing and securing power.

Looking further back, to the founding of the Qing dynasty, several hundred thousand Jurchens consolidated rule through a series of massacres—among them the Ten Days of Yangzhou, the Three Massacres of Jiading, and the slaughters in Suzhou, Nanchang, Ganzhou, Jiangyin, Kunshan, Jiaxing, Haining, Jinan, Zhoushan, Jinhua, Xiamen, Chaozhou, Xiangtan, and Datong. These campaigns terrorized the Han population into submission, compelling them to adopt Manchu dress and the queue hairstyle as symbols of obedience.

Looking closer to the present, consider Deng Xiaoping’s suppression of the 1989 Tiananmen protests. It was rumored that Deng once declared, “Kill 200,000 to secure 20 years of stability.” In reality, the death toll was far lower—but the regime has endured for far more than twenty years.

Human nature has a dark side: it often bullies the weak and fears the strong.

When the Qing court first imposed the queue order, it encountered widespread resistance. The authorities then declared, “Keep your head and lose your hair, or keep your hair and lose your head.” The results were immediate.

Similarly, before the events of June 4, 1989, Children’s Day on June 1 was invoked in a sentimental appeal. Children were encouraged to plead with the student protesters: “Big brothers and sisters, please leave the square so we can celebrate our holiday.” The pleas were ignored. When tanks rolled in, the square was cleared.

In ordinary life, diligence may compensate for incompetence. In political life, ruthlessness may do the same. Throughout history, many mediocre rulers, lacking talent in governance, have nonetheless maintained long periods of stability through unflinching violence.

During the Cultural Revolution, Lin Biao famously remarked: “Political power is the power to suppress.”

Today, China is dominated by a single party, and within Zhongnanhai, by a single individual. Xi Jinping holds in his hands the instruments of suppression.

Niccolò Machiavelli once observed that it is better for a ruler to be feared than loved, for fear lies within the prince’s control.

If Xi Jinping dares to order a massacre, he may yet realize his imperial ambition. If he does not, that dream of emperorship may prove to be nothing more than a fleeting fantasy.