For the Chinese Communist Party, Macau is a beacon of controlled capitalism, showcasing the potential of the “One Country, Two Systems” framework
When Chinese President Xi Jinping landed in Macau, the world’s gambling capital, the air was thick with anticipation. Macau, often dubbed the “Las Vegas of the East,” is much more than a beacon of wealth and opulence. For Xi and the Chinese Communist Party (CCP), it is a sparkling gem in the palm of China’s vast and complex economic system—a model of the “One Country, Two Systems” framework that allows capitalist practices to thrive under the watchful eye of a socialist regime. Xi’s visit underscored the stark contrasts between theory and practice in the CCP’s governance and the lessons it offers not only for China’s neighbours but for the world at large.
Macau’s significance lies in its unique identity. A former Portuguese colony, it returned to Chinese sovereignty in 1999 under the promise of autonomy. Today, its glitzy casinos, luxury hotels, and sprawling Special Economic Zone (SEZ) generate billions annually, contributing substantially to China’s GDP. But while the dice roll and fortunes are made on Macau’s gaming tables, the CCP’s control remains unyielding.
The irony is palpable. The CCP, a party built on anti-capitalist ideology, oversees the largest SEZ in the world in Shanghai, nurtures capitalism in Hong Kong, and allows gambling—once condemned as a moral vice—to flourish in Macau. This duality reflects the pragmatic philosophy first espoused by Deng Xiaoping: “It doesn’t matter if a cat is black or white, as long as it catches mice.” This approach has been pivotal in transforming China into the world’s second-largest economy. Yet it also lays bare the contradictions at the heart of CCP rule.
Xi Jinping’s Macau visit was not merely ceremonial. It was a reaffirmation of the CCP’s ability to adapt and wield capitalist tools while maintaining a tight grip on power. In Macau, Xi emphasised stability and loyalty to the central government. This aligns with his broader strategy of tightening control over regions that might veer toward autonomy or dissent, as evidenced in Hong Kong. The “One Country, Two Systems” model—once lauded as a masterstroke of governance—has increasingly become a tool for consolidating Beijing’s authority. Hong Kong’s story is a cautionary tale.
A vibrant hub of multinational corporations (MNCs) and transnational corporations (TNCs), it has been at the forefront of economic globalisation. However, its recent struggles with political dissent and Beijing’s heavy-handed responses reveal the limits of the “Two Systems” promise. The CCP’s crackdown on pro-democracy movements in Hong Kong has sent a clear message: economic freedom does not translate to political autonomy. Macau, in contrast, has largely avoided such conflicts, partly due to its economic dependence on Beijing and the absence of a robust pro-democracy movement. Yet, this does not make Macau immune to the inherent tensions of “One Country, Two Systems.”
As Xi extolled Macau’s success, he also warned against complacency and stressed the need for “long-term stability,” a euphemism for unwavering allegiance to the CCP.For the CCP, Macau and Hong Kong are not just economic engines; they are experiments in controlled capitalism. The success of these regions bolsters the party’s narrative that socialism with Chinese characteristics can coexist with, and even benefit from capitalist mechanisms.
The underlying contradictions are hard to ignore. The CCP’s insistence on ideological purity clashes with its pragmatic embrace of market-driven policies. This duality is reflected in Xi’s leadership, which combines Maoist centralisation with Dengist pragmatism.
For Maoists, Naxalites, and urban Naxals in India, as well as other ideologues clinging to rigid dogmas, Macau stands as a testament to the power of adaptation. The CCP’s ability to evolve, to reconcile its Marxist-Leninist roots with the demands of a modern, globalised economy, has been the cornerstone of China’s rise. This is a far cry from the ideological purism that often paralyzes leftist movements elsewhere.
India, too, can draw inspiration from Macau. As the world’s largest democracy grapples with its development challenges, it must consider the role of SEZs, MNC headquarters, and even industries like gambling in driving economic growth. While gambling remains taboo in much of India, the success of Macau shows how regulated gaming can become a major revenue source.
Similarly, expanding SEZs and creating hubs for MNCs can transform India into a global economic powerhouse. At the heart of this debate is the question of whether ideology should dictate policy. The CCP’s approach—that opinion is not an iron rod—offers a compelling case for pragmatism. Yet, the party’s intolerance for dissent, as seen in its suppression of Mao’s “Let a Hundred Flowers Bloom” campaign, highlights the dangers of unchecked authority. The CCP’s success in economic management is undeniable, but its human rights record and stifling of democratic aspirations serve as stark reminders of the cost of its iron-fisted rule.
As Xi Jinping departed Macau, the world was left pondering the paradoxes of modern China. Under his leadership, the CCP has doubled down on centralisation, curbing dissent while championing economic liberalisation. Macau’s glittering casinos and towering skyscrapers are symbols of this duality, where capitalism thrives under the shadow of socialism. For Xi, Macau is more than a gem in China’s palm; it is a symbol of the CCP’s ability to adapt and endure. Whether in the neon-lit streets of Macau or the corridors of power in Beijing, the CCP’s experiment in controlled capitalism continues to shape the future of China—and the world.
(The writer is an associate professor; views are personal)
