By Li Deyan
At the recently concluded Fifth Plenary Session of the Central Commission for Discipline Inspection (CCDI)—the Chinese Communist Party’s top internal anti-corruption and disciplinary body—Chinese leader Xi Jinping appeared to quietly lower his rhetorical tone on anti-corruption. For years, Xi had confidently proclaimed sweeping victories in the campaign. This time, however, he acknowledged that “the anti-corruption struggle remains severe and complex.”
Despite the softened rhetoric, the campaign itself is entering a new phase. According to multiple sources, Beijing is now pushing what officials describe as “anti-corruption sinking downward”—a shift in focus toward local power centers, particularly mayors and public security bureau chiefs, known within the system as the local “number one and number two leaders.” Investigations will not only target current conduct but also retrospectively examine how these officials rose to power, including whether their promotions involved bribery, the buying and selling of offices, or illicit transfers of “benefits and favors.”
A noticeable shift in Xi’s anti-corruption messaging
From Jan. 12 to 14, 2026, the Fifth Plenary Session of the 20th Central CCDI was held in Beijing. Xi Jinping attended the opening session and delivered a keynote speech. Compared with previous years, the speech was strikingly brief—approximately 1,290 Chinese characters—and noticeably restrained in tone.
Long accustomed to forceful, triumphant anti-corruption rhetoric, Xi avoided his once-standard declaration that the campaign had achieved an “overwhelming victory” that was “fully consolidated.” Instead, he described anti-corruption as “a major struggle that cannot be lost and must never be lost,” while emphasizing that the situation remains “severe and complex.”
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This language marks a departure from earlier years. At the Fourth CCDI Plenary Session in 2025, Xi laid out detailed directives, calling for intensified scrutiny of “key issues, key sectors, and key targets,” insisting that both bribe-takers and bribe-givers be investigated, and urging that anti-corruption efforts be extended “down to the grassroots.”
At the Third CCDI Plenum in January 2024—when Xi’s authority appeared at its peak—he was even more expansive. He spoke of “grasping nine critical issues,” vowed harsh punishment for corruption involving collusion between officials and business interests, and singled out sectors such as finance, state-owned enterprises, energy, pharmaceuticals, and infrastructure—areas characterized by concentrated power and massive capital flows.
After more than thirteen years of continuous anti-corruption campaigns since Xi assumed power in 2012, the shift in tone is conspicuous. Rather than declaring victory and pushing forward, Xi now stresses that corruption is a battle China “cannot afford to lose.” The question, observers ask, is simply: why?
From individual cases to system-wide control
A mainland Chinese insider familiar with the workings of the CCP’s disciplinary system told overseas Chinese-language media that the latest plenum signals a strategic adjustment. Unlike earlier campaigns that focused on high-profile individual cases, the emphasis now is on “systemic supervision” and “preemptive risk prevention.”
“At the top level,” the source explained, “the language is about institutions, oversight, and the operation of power. But when this filters down, the message is unmistakable: local governments are being put back under the microscope.”
Importantly, this so-called “sinking downward” does not simply mean extending investigations to—China’s lowest administrative levels. Instead, it targets key nodes within local power structures, especially positions controlling public finances, personnel appointments, major construction projects, and the public security apparatus. In China’s governance system, these posts concentrate enormous discretionary authority.
“Many of the problems being addressed now aren’t new,” the insider said. “They’ve accumulated over several years. What’s happening now is a unified effort to sort through them.”
Zeroing in on local ‘number one’ officials
The concept of “anti-corruption sinking downward” did not emerge overnight.
In recent weeks, multiple insiders have revealed that a new round of investigations launched after the Lunar New Year is steadily extending to prefectural- and city-level governments. Rather than focusing exclusively on provincial or ministerial officials, investigators are now placing mayors, police chiefs, and other local top leaders squarely in the crosshairs.
According to informed sources, this focus is not driven solely by anti-corruption concerns. Rather, it reflects the Party’s desire for tighter, system-wide control over critical power centers. City-level leaders, especially mayors and public security chiefs, command highly concentrated authority over budget allocations, project approvals, and law enforcement resources. Targeting them can ripple through entire local power networks, producing a strong deterrent effect.
One system insider put it bluntly: “Now it’s no longer about waiting for someone to get into trouble. The first question is what position you occupy, who stands behind you, and whether your background can withstand scrutiny. If you’re sitting in the wrong seat, you’ll be watched first.”
Across China, multiple local governments have reportedly been ordered to submit supplementary documentation and re-verify financial records. Some officials have been required to repeatedly explain the sources of their personal and family assets. The goal, according to insiders, is not immediate arrests but reconnaissance—“to clarify the situation first and see who can’t withstand investigation.”
In certain regions, authorities are paying special attention to officials appointed in recent years, re-examining both their career trajectories and financial histories.
A member of a local procuratorial system told overseas media that counties and cities in provinces such as Guangdong, Jiangxi, and Shandong are simultaneously conducting asset audits and screening corruption leads.
“This time, it’s not just about whether there’s a specific case,” the source said. “It’s about tracing things backward—how these officials rose to power, and whether there was buying and selling of offices behind the scenes. Unlike before, they’re not investigating a single point, but an entire web of relationships. The scope is broader than ever.”
Anti-corruption as political theater
As China enters 2026, the CCP faces growing uncertainty both at home and abroad. Internationally, the global environment has become increasingly unfavorable. Domestically, years of political repression and economic strain have left the public acutely sensitive to signs of instability. Under these conditions, the Party appears to believe that only constant high-pressure governance can preserve a sense of control.
Yet after years of loudly proclaimed anti-corruption drives, corruption remains endemic. Critics have long described the campaign as “swatting flies in a latrine—the harder you swat, the more flies appear.”
In 2025 alone, at least 31 officials convicted of embezzling sums exceeding 100 million yuan were sentenced—more than in any single year since the CCP’s 18th Party Congress. These figures include only cases that were publicly disclosed.
Among them were:
By day, these officials preached the virtues of being “upright parent-officials.” By night, they attended lavish banquets and indulged in excess—embodying, in critics’ eyes, the hypocrisy behind the Party’s slogans of being “great, glorious, and correct.” The ultimate cost, as always, was borne by ordinary Chinese citizens.
Confessions, fatigue, and doubt
On Jan. 12, 2026, China Central Television (CCTV), the CCP’s main propaganda outlet, aired the second episode of its anti-corruption documentary series Not Stopping for a Step, Not Retreating Half a Step. The episode focused on government-business collusion and featured a televised confession by Luo Baoming, former party secretary of Hainan Province.
“My corrupt crimes,” Luo said, “caused serious damage to Hainan’s business environment and severely undermined its political ecology.”
According to the program, during Luo’s tenure, the former HNA Group provided a 300-square-meter villa in Haikou for his mother, complete with household staff. Even more striking, the company paid for the entire cost of Luo’s daughter’s wedding, including the venue, banquet, alcohol, and ceremonial arrangements.
HNA reportedly extended these favors because Luo, under the banner of supporting private enterprise, provided the group with substantial political backing. Over time, the company also financed luxury services for Luo and his family, including multiple free overseas trips to Australia, Switzerland, and Spain—benefits he reportedly accepted without hesitation.
Hong Kong’s Sing Tao Daily columnist Ji Xiaohua noted that audiences have grown numb to such stories of official-business collusion. The televised confessions, he wrote, resemble performances by seasoned actors—emotionally intense, sometimes tearful, but increasingly met with cynicism.
Viewers, he observed, now watch them as theater. Whether such spectacles genuinely deter corruption within the Party is deeply questionable.