Mr Xi was used to leftovers. As a boy, he would wash in his father’s bathwater. (The next morning the water would be used for a third time, to launder the family’s clothes.) He also understood the importance of deference, for Xi Zhongxun had taught him that children who did not respect their parents were doomed to fail as adults. Every lunar new year, Mr Xi would perform the traditional kowtow ritual, prostrating himself before his parent in a display of reverence. If his technique was off, his father would beat him.

These stories are recounted in “The Party’s Interests Come First”, a biography of Xi Zhongxun by Joseph Torigian, an American scholar. Mr Torigian draws on a decade of research using Chinese, English and Russian sources, including official documents, newspapers, diaries and interviews. The book is valuable not only for its portrait of its subject—who was a major figure in the party’s history in his own right—but also for its insights into his progeny, now the supreme leader.

As China’s unquestioned ruler, possibly for life, Mr Xi is arguably the most important person in the world. He will be wielding power long after Donald Trump has retired to Mar-a-Lago. Yet information about him is paltry. His every movement is choreographed by a fawning propaganda machine; in the accounts of his life, interesting details are expunged by overbearing censors. There are only a handful of ways to understand Mr Xi, which involve poring over party records or leaked speeches, learning about key moments in Chinese history that he lived through and studying the people who most influenced him. Few people have shaped Mr Xi more than his father. Xi Zhongxun’s relationship to the party and his thwarted ambitions offer clues as to what his son wants for China.

Like many of his generation, Xi Zhongxun’s life was marked by tragedy. Born in 1913 into a family of peasants, he was an ardent believer in communism from a young age. His belief strengthened in his adolescent years, he said, as he witnessed “the tragic mistreatment of the labouring people”. He took part in violent student protests in 1928 and was imprisoned by the then anti-communist authorities. Xi Zhongxun’s parents died when he was a teenager: the result, he thought, of the stress caused by his jailing. Two of his sisters died of hunger.

After the civil war, Xi Zhongxun rose fast through the party’s ranks and “entered the very top echelon of the government”, Mr Torigian writes. Then, in 1962, he was purged by Mao Zedong for supporting the publication of a novel Mao considered subversive. Four years later, China’s paranoid dictator launched the Cultural Revolution, unleashing frenzied gangs who killed between 500,000 and 2m people and displaced many more. Xi Zhongxun was kidnapped, held in solitary confinement and tortured. Around 20,000 people were targeted for having supported Xi Zhongxun, the author estimates, and at least 200 “were beaten to death, driven mad or seriously injured”.

His family suffered, too. They were forced to denounce Xi Zhongxun; one of his daughters committed suicide. A teenager at the time, Mr Xi was branded a “capitalist roader” (ie, a traitor) because of his father’s disgrace. On one occasion the young Mr Xi was forced to wear a heavy steel cap and subjected to public humiliation. A crowd ridiculed him, shouting slogans including “Down with Xi Jinping.” His mother joined in the jeering.

Mr Xi was thrown in prison, where he slept on an icy floor during the winter. “My entire body was covered in lice,” he wrote. One time, Mr Xi managed to escape and make his way home. He begged his mother for some food. Not only did she refuse, she also reported him to the authorities, fearful that she would be arrested otherwise. Crying, Mr Xi ran out into the rain.

What doesn’t kill you

The anguish did not stop there. In 1969, aged 15, Mr Xi was “sent down” to the countryside with millions of other young people exiled from the cities. He lived in a cave in a desolate part of the country, where girls were sold into marriage for a dowry calculated by their weight. “Even if you do not understand, you are forced to understand,” he later recalled of that time. “It forces you to mature earlier.”

Why did both men stay committed to a party that had caused them so much pain? Mr Torigian suggests the answer may lie in “What Is to Be Done?”, a novel of 1863 by Nikolai Chernyshevsky, a Russian journalist. In the story a young man named Rakhme sleeps on a bed of nails to strengthen his will. Mr Xi imagined that he was Rakhme as he endured those cold floors, lice, rainstorms and blizzards. Both father and son may have been influenced by a Bolshevik political culture that glamorised “forging”—the idea that suffering strengthens your willpower and dedication to the cause.

Throughout his life, Mr Xi has been loyal to two groups that demand absolute obedience: the family and the party. Both were often “unfairly” strict, Mr Xi has said, yet this did not dent his loyalty. Mr Torigian shows how Mr Xi balances dedication and realism. “If I were born in the United States, I would not join the Communist Party of the United States. I would join the Democratic Party or Republican Party,” Mr Xi once told Abe Shinzo, Japan’s prime minister at the time. Abe concluded that Mr Xi joined the party not because of ideology, but as a way to gain power.

After Xi Zhongxun was rehabilitated under Deng Xiaoping in the late 1970s, he was put in charge of Guangdong province and began to liberalise the local economy. When Mr Xi became general secretary of the party in 2012—the top job in China—many expected him to be an economic reformer like his father. But the assumption that Mr Xi was any kind of liberal was wrong: he is not interested in creating an open and free country. He believes in restoring China’s greatness and thinks that, to this end, the party should use any means necessary. His experience of injustice has not taught him that arbitrary power is undesirable; only that it should be wielded less chaotically than it was under Mao, by someone wise like himself.

In a little over a decade, Mr Xi has become the most autocratic Chinese leader since Mao. His regime ruthlessly represses dissidents at home and activists abroad; it enforces a stifling political conformity, forcing many to study “Xi Jinping Thought”. Such methods are justified, he thinks, because he sees himself as a man of destiny, with a duty to generations past and future. He often speaks of himself as a protector of Chinese civilisation. “Whoever throws away those things left behind by our ancestors is a traitor,” he told Ma Ying-jeou, a former president of Taiwan.

That attitude is apparent in Mr Xi’s Taiwan policy, which bears his father’s influence. Towards the end of his career, Xi Zhongxun was put in charge of unification with Taiwan. The party had ambitious dreams of reclaiming the island, which has been self-governing since China’s civil war ended in 1949 and the losing side, the Kuomintang (Nationalist Party), retreated there. But Xi Zhongxun died in 2002 with this aspiration unfulfilled.

His son yearns to fulfil it. Mr Xi has made it plain he wants to take back Taiwan. Those who rule China must remember that “The territory left by the ancestors must not shrink,” he said in 2012. When or how he may try to seize Taiwan—through war, a blockade or other means—is unclear.

What is clear, though, is that his family’s suffering has shaped Mr Xi’s dark view of politics. “For people who rarely encounter power and who are distant from it, they always see these things as very mysterious and fresh,” Mr Xi once said. “But what I saw was more than the surface of things. I didn’t just see the power, flowers, glory and applause. I also saw the cowsheds [where people were confined during the Cultural Revolution] and the fickleness of the world.” Mr Xi’s formative years made him clear-eyed and cynical, hardened and imperious. The worldview he learned from his father will affect not only 1.4bn Chinese people, but the whole of humanity. ■

Strong mayor powers used to block majority on fractious eastern Ontario council

The mayor of a small, conflict-wracked eastern Ontario council has exercised strong mayor powers, just a month after the controversial measures were extended to new municipalities.

Last week Arie Hoogenboom, the mayor of Rideau Lakes, vetoed a council decision to seek quotes for a plan to renovate the municipal offices of the township located about 100 kilometres southwest of downtown Ottawa.

Whether to upgrade existing offices or build new ones is the source of a long-running and acrimonious dispute that has divided the council. Opposing factions have levelled more than a dozen integrity commissioner complaints against each other.

The existing offices are located in the hamlet of Chantry and require upgrading. Hoogenboom is in favour of relocating the facilities to a more populated area, and believes this measure could facilitate the development of a subdivision. But a majority of council members oppose the idea as too expensive, preferring to renovate existing offices.

In March, Hoogenboom said the atmosphere had grown so toxic that he was temporarily stepping away from some of his duties.

But that didn't stop him last Monday from vetoing a decision by his opponents to send a retrofit and addition plan for the existing municipal offices out to tender.

'So much bigger than the issues in Rideau Lakes'

To invoke the new powers, mayors are required to give a rationale for how the move aligns with provincial priorities. Hoogenboom justified his veto by referring to provincial priorities to build new homes and maintain infrastructure, and said he retained the backing of the local community.

"In the last election I received a significant mandate from the public to build a municipal office," he said in an interview.

"I'm totally convinced that if there was any public consultation on this, the public would clearly indicate that they were in favour of my option."

But Paula Banks, one of five councillors opposed to Hoogenboom, said using the strong mayor powers was undemocratic.

"It's a five-three vote and he was allowed to stop us," she said. "This story is so much bigger than the issues in Rideau Lakes."

On May 1, mayors in 169 Ontario municipalities were given the power to veto bylaws, pass others with just a third of council in favour and fire and hire municipal department heads. The measures were first introduced in 2022 for the mayors of Toronto and Ottawa, as a way to advance provincial policy priorities.

Powers 'undemocratic'

But the measures have proven controversial. Banks said she is reaching out to the other municipalities recently awarded strong mayor powers and said most she has heard from are against them.

"The majority of municipalities oppose this," she said. "Our mayors are saying it's a bad idea, our councillors are saying it's undemocratic and the Ford government is just ignoring it."

Banks said she hopes to build a coalition to lobby Premier Doug Ford to rescind the provisions.

In Rideau Lakes, Banks and her four allies passed a resolution at council opposing strong mayor powers and asking to opt out. Hoogenboom was absent from the vote.

After Hoogenboom used his new powers, those five councillors sought to defeat their use but lacked the two-thirds majority needed to do so.

That has left the divided council unable to proceed on a course of action, Hoogenboom said.

"We're still a bit hamstrung," he said, acknowledging that his "mandate is severely compromised."

In the meantime, a decision on what to do about the township's municipal offices will likely have to wait until after elections next year, according to Hoogenboom.

"When there's a good chance that there would be more people who would be willing to row in the same direction," he said.

Elon Musk declared all-out war on President Trump Thursday, writing on X: "Without me, Trump would have lost the election, Dems would control the House and the Republicans would be 51-49 in the Senate."

"Such ingratitude," Musk added.

Why it matters: The public breakup between Trump and Musk — a key adviser who spent nearly $300 million to support the president's campaign and Republicans in 2024 — has escalated dramatically.

At the heart of the feud is Trump's signature "One, Big, Beautiful Bill," a massive tax-and-spending package projected to add trillions to national debt over the next 10 years.

After Musk launched a digital campaign to "Kill the Bill" on Wednesday, Trump suggested to reporters that the Tesla CEO was angry about the legislation rolling back electric vehicle tax credits.

What they're saying: "Whatever. Keep the EV/solar incentive cuts in the bill, even though no oil & gas subsidies are touched (very unfair!!), but ditch the MOUNTAIN of DISGUSTING PORK in the bill," Musk wrote on X.

As Trump was openly discussing their tense relationship during a meeting with German Chancellor Friedrich Merz in the Oval Office, Musk dug up old tweets of the president railing against deficit spending and increases to the debt limit. "Where is this guy today?" Musk asked.

Musk also denied Trump's claim that he "knew the inner workings of the bill better than anybody," writing: "False, this bill was never shown to me even once and was passed in the dead of night so fast that almost no one in Congress could even read it!"

Between the lines: Democrats and liberal pundits have long speculated that the relationship between Trump and Musk — two huge personalities with strong personal views — would end in disaster.

But for six months, there was barely any daylight: As recently as last week, Trump honored Musk in the Oval Office and praised him as a "friend" who did excellent work on DOGE.

Now, with Musk having exited the administration, the relationship is collapsing — spectacularly — in full public view.