As Xi Jinping moves slowly through his twelfth year at the helm of China’s ruling Communist Party, speculation about his eventual successor, and what a sudden departure might mean, has become increasingly difficult to ignore.

Now 72 years old, and with no clear heir apparent, Xi retains an unrelenting grip on power. Yet time, mortality and political dynamics wait for no leader, not even one as seemingly invincible as China’s current paramount ruler.

Xi’s accumulation of power since 2012 has been extraordinary. He has scrapped presidential term limits, enshrined “Xi Jinping Thought” in the party constitution, purged rivals through an extensive anti-corruption campaign, and placed himself at the centre of every major policy decision, from economic planning to national security and military affairs.

In doing so, Xi has hollowed out the mechanisms of collective leadership that were once hallmarks of post-Mao governance, leaving behind a system deeply personalised and, arguably, very brittle.

If Xi were to die suddenly, whether from illness, accident or otherwise, China could face its most uncertain political transition in decades. The central question is: who would step into the vacuum, and would the Communist Party be able to maintain internal cohesion and outward control?

The search for a successor

Unlike previous Communist Party leaders, Xi has deliberately avoided grooming a successor. His two most visible Politburo Standing Committee colleagues, Premier Li Qiang and Zhao Leji, both hold significant power but are widely seen as political loyalists rather than independent heavyweights.

Li Qiang, a long-time ally who previously served as Party Secretary in Shanghai, rose to national prominence after managing the city’s controversial COVID lockdown in 2022. As Premier, he has taken on the daunting task of revitalising China’s sluggish post-pandemic economy, but in his mid-60s, he lacks the deep military or ideological credentials that might make him a natural Xi replacement.

Zhao Leji, also in his mid-60s, now heads the National People’s Congress, and has a stronger power base within the party’s disciplinary apparatus, having previously led the Central Commission for Discipline Inspection. Yet his profile remains largely bureaucratic, and like Li, his political fate is closely tied to Xi’s continuing dominance.

Other potential names include Wang Huning, the party’s chief ideologue and long-time theoretician, and Ding Xuexiang, a Xi confidante and current vice premier. But none possess the stature, authority or popular legitimacy to step in seamlessly.

If Xi dies suddenly, crisis or continuity?

Should Xi die unexpectedly, China’s political system would be thrown into momentary disarray – albeit a period of disarray likely kept from the wider world for as long as feasible to prevent panic and opportunistic power-grab moves at home.

The Communist Party, with its deeply hierarchical and centralised structure, is not well-equipped for improvisation. Xi’s tight control of the Politburo and his erosion of intra-party debate mean that no one with any degree of authority is truly prepared to lead in his absence.

In the immediate aftermath of his death, the Politburo Standing Committee would likely invoke emergency procedures to ensure continuity. The role of the Central Military Commission would be crucial; with Xi also serving as its chairman, the loyalty of top military brass would determine whether a peaceful transfer of power could be managed or whether a factional power struggle would emerge.

A sudden vacuum could spark instability within elite circles. Factions that have been sidelined such as those aligned with former leaders Hu Jintao or Jiang Zemin might attempt to reassert themselves, and although China has historically managed leadership transitions behind closed doors, the lack of transparency in the Xi era makes predicting elite behaviour more difficult than ever.

Public reaction and national stability

Among the general public, the reaction to Xi’s sudden death would be complex. While he retains significant support among segments of the population, particularly nationalists and in rural communities, many urban citizens and business leaders chafe under the weight of increasing authoritarianism, economic slowdown and international isolation. Hundreds of millions, although unable to do so publicly, would likely welcome his passing.

The Chinese state would then almost certainly move quickly to control the narrative, employing its vast surveillance and censorship apparatus to quash dissent and prevent speculation.

Social media would be tightly monitored – if allowed at all.

Patriotic tributes would flood television screens. Xi’s legacy would be enshrined alongside Mao’s, and any successor would likely claim to continue his path.

Nonetheless, whispers of reform or even internal elite disagreement could bubble to the surface.

Economic stakeholders may push for liberalisation. Intellectuals could cautiously begin to question the wisdom of total centralisation. And ordinary citizens, already frustrated by youth unemployment and housing market turmoil, might wonder whether a change at the top could bring meaningful improvement.

An uncertain future

In the long term, the path China takes post-Xi depends heavily on whether the party opts for continuity or recalibration. If a consensus candidate emerges, likely from within Xi’s trusted inner circle, the regime could maintain outward stability but face continued economic and geopolitical pressures.

Alternatively, if Xi’s death leads to infighting or a leadership struggle, the risk of political instability would increase sharply, potentially spilling over into economic policy, foreign relations and domestic governance.

In either case, the lesson is clear: a system built so tightly around a cult centred on one man, however powerful, invites uncertainty once that man disappears. It also invites opportunity...