In Liangjiahe, a rural village surrounded by clay-colored hills, a well helps explain who Xi Jinping is and what he wants. Xi is the president who has led China, the world’s second-largest economy, for nearly 14 years; the leader who defied Donald Trump’s tariff wall; the one visited by heads of state and government from around the world; the man world leaders travel to meet; the absolute figure no one in the Chinese Communist Party — a Leninist organization with more than 100 million members that controls every sphere of a superpower of over 1.4 billion people — now dares to challenge.
Xi, who recently turned 73, helped dig the well in Liangjiahe more than half a century ago. Dubbed the “well of the young intellectuals,” a plaque recalls how “Jinping” — his given name — led the village in 1973 to solve its chronic water shortage. The teenager had been sent to this remote village in Shaanxi province, where locals still lived in caves, as part of the re‑education campaigns during Mao Zedong’s devastating Cultural Revolution.
He arrived in 1969 at age 15. He struggled to fit in, but it was here — after enduring all manner of hardship — that he found his calling to serve the people and the party. A mural depicts a young Xi with the message: “Hard work; self‑reliance.” That is the metaphor of the well, the message emphasized by propaganda in Liangjiahe: Xi dug “with his legs completely submerged in muddy water,” a panel recalls.
Today, the site is a popular destination for so-called “red tourism,” although, more than ordinary tourists, it draws visitors tied to the ideological training of Chinese Communist Party members. “Here he learned the spirit of overcoming the harshest conditions,” a guide explains to one such group, shepherded by a “leadership school” specializing in “Xi Jinping Thought.” This, too, is a hallmark of his era. Under his rule, education related to the president and his worldview has been reinforced at every level, from schools to the highest ranks. It is an ongoing instruction designed to counter what Xi sees as the “historical nihilism” that brought down the Soviet Union.
“The knife is sharpened on a stone; people are strengthened by adversity,” he said of his seven years in the village in 2002, when he was a promising governor of Fujian province. Two decades later, in 2022, as he was about to be reelected party general secretary for a historic third term, Xi urged perseverance in the “spirit of struggle” developed “in the face of abrupt changes in the international situation” and “the blackmail, obstacles, blockades and maximum pressure from abroad.”
U.S. historian Joseph Torigian believes the Chinese leader was the answer to the idea that contact with the West would lead China to open up in the style of liberal democracies. “Xi believes, instead, in the need to harden the regime against political and economic pressure; to change course and show that there are alternatives to the Western system,” he says by phone.
Torigian, a senior fellow at the Council on Foreign Relations, is an expert on Xi’s father, Xi Zhongxun, a revolutionary leader who fought alongside Mao, and has published a book on him called The Party’s Interest Come First. Xi’s son is what is commonly known as a “princeling,” the offspring of the generation of communists who founded the People’s Republic and rose to senior positions once in Beijing.
They were turbulent years in any case. Xi’s father rose to vice premier only to be purged later. He would spend years in isolation while his son faced the wrath of the Red Guards because of his family background and was sent to the countryside. But he continued to believe in the system: from the village, Xi sent a dozen letters to the Party until they admitted him.
From Liangjiahe, he returned to Beijing to study chemical engineering at the prestigious Tsinghua University. With Mao’s death in 1976, the years of reform and opening under Deng Xiaoping began. His father returned to public life. The era of rapid growth was beginning, and many princelings set about making up for lost time, enjoying themselves and absorbing Western influences. Xi, by contrast, “chose to survive by becoming redder than the red,” a friend later told the U.S. Embassy, according to a WikiLeaks diplomatic cable.
His first notable post was as secretary to the defense minister; he later pursued a career away from Beijing. In 1985, as a local official in Hebei province, he traveled to the U.S. state of Iowa as part of a delegation to learn agricultural techniques and strengthen ties. For a couple of nights, he even experienced what it was like to sleep in the bedroom of a young American decorated with Star Trek memorabilia. “A pleasant, charming and intelligent leader; very curious about many aspects of agriculture, food processing and life in the United States,” recalls Luca Berrone, an Italian‑American businessman who organized that trip.
They spent two weeks together, and Berrone would not connect the dots again until 2011, when Xi was vice president and the apparent heir. Since then, Berrone has been invited to a dozen meetings with the Chinese president, who often cites his Iowa trip as an example of the importance of people‑to‑people ties to avoid conflict. “I think he does not seek a confrontational position, but rather genuine mutually beneficial cooperation,” Berrone says. “He respects the United States a lot.”
It is true that Xi’s only daughter, who has left almost no public trace, graduated from Harvard in 2014. But four decades after that Iowa visit, China is no longer the student, but a disruptive power competing on equal terms in the economic, military and technological spheres — and that has changed things.
During the bruising trade clash of 2025, Beijing showed the tools it had prepared to protect its interests by restricting critical resources. When Trump landed in China in May for a summit with Xi, the choreography was staged to convey that the two nations were negotiating on equal footing. The cordial détente was sealed with a formula proposed by the Chinese leader that softens the Cold War premise of co‑existence between powers: “constructive strategic stability.”
“He is a very strong leader who should not be underestimated,” says Rafael Dezcallar, former Spanish ambassador to Beijing and author of El ascenso de China (The Rise of China). “He wants to place China where it belongs, as a great power capable of competing with the United States, never again subjected to its influence or dominance, self‑sufficient in technology and in fundamental matters.” On the domestic front: “He has managed to put the party under his control.”
Xi was chosen as a consensus figure by those within the Party who believed that firm leadership was needed to rein in years of excesses. As soon as he took office, he launched an anti-corruption campaign that is still ongoing. Since 2012, more than seven million public officials have been found guilty and sanctioned by disciplinary inspection and supervisory bodies. The crackdown has extended from the grassroots level to the very top, reaching ministers and the military leadership.
This is compounded by a marked anti-hedonistic impulse, reflected in measures such as banning alcohol, luxury dishes, and cigarettes at official banquets. “Calvinist communism,” as a European diplomatic source based in Beijing describes it. For Xi, the source adds, Westernization amounts to paganism.
Xi has reinstated ideology and repositioned the Party at the center. His ideology, officially inscribed in the Constitution alongside Mao’s and Deng’s, is cited in every political speech. He is also a bestselling author: the three best‑selling books in China in 2025 were volumes compiling Xi’s ideas, according to Chinese media.
Wang Yiwei, vice president of the Academy of Xi Jinping Thought on Socialism with Chinese Characteristics for a New Era (the convoluted official name of his ideology), summarizes the president’s vision as “Xivilization.” He sees it as a new phase of “traditional Leninism” that confronted the capitalist system. “Now we have changed: whether socialism, capitalism or any other ism, all have a shared future.” And it draws not only on Karl Marx. “We have synergies with China’s classical culture and civilization.”
Torigian also believes that Xi’s sense of history leads him to fuse present-day Communist China with its past: he is mindful of the repeated collapse of imperial dynasties and witnessed, in his youth, the fall of communism around the world. This prompts him to ask: “How do you immortalize his vision? How do you ensure that what he believes the country needs survives not only while he lives but into the future? How do you prevent institutions from decaying and ultimately collapsing?” With no apparent successor for now, most analysts believe he will remain in power beyond 2030.
During his tenure, a heavy hand has been the answer to dissent. He has launched campaigns against anything that smells of divergence in civil society and has imposed firm control over Xinjiang, Tibet, and Hong Kong. It is hard to gauge his approval in an authoritarian country where surveys about the leader are not published, and technological surveillance reaches unimaginable levels. Simply uttering his name in public elicits respect, and it is not uncommon for people, when referring to the president, to lower their voices or speak in euphemisms.
If you ask people about Xi, the response is usually positive. “We only have one president, not like abroad,” says a taxi driver in Yan’an, the city nearest Liangjiahe and another hub of red tourism. Yan’an was where Mao ended the Long March in 1935, and its streets mix communist monuments with a bustling provincial life.
“Xi is not bad, but he still has a long way to reach Mao’s level,” replies Bai Guanglin, a 76‑year‑old farmer, at the city’s revolutionary museum. His granddaughter, Bai Yuxin, 28, a high‑school teacher, adds: “He has contributed a lot economically and in foreign relations.”
Yan’an was also the destination Xi chose for his first trip after being reelected in 2022. Alongside the other six members of the Politburo Standing Committee — the Party’s top decision-making body — he visited the caves where Mao once lived, toured the museum, and in his speeches called for “hard work” and a “fighting spirit,” while recalling those seven years he spent in the village.
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En los últimos años, Francia ha estado muy centrada en detectar las injerencias de la que considera su mayor amenaza, Rusia, aunque no ha dejado de vigilar posibles actividades de espionaje por parte de otra gran potencia: Pekín. Los servicios de inteligencia franceses han desmantelado en los últimos meses nueve de las llamadas “comisarías clandestinas” del país asiático, cuya labor consiste en vigilar a la diáspora en el país e identificar, intimidar e incluso tratar de devolver al país a los opositores al régimen de Xi Jinping instalados en territorio francés. En Francia viven unos 600.000 ciudadanos chinos.
More than 60 years ago, the chemist Gordon Moore predicted that the number of transistors that could fit on a chip would double every two years. He was right. Computing power increased for decades and costs fell. But many smartphones, computers, and an era of artificial intelligence later, Moore’s Law has reached its limits. That’s where He Tingbo (China, 1969), president of Huawei’s semiconductor business, comes in. She has proposed an alternative law to ensure that chips continue to gain power and efficiency without the need to keep shrinking the transistor.
The new method, announced on May 25 at a conference titled “New Semiconductor Path in Practice,” is called the Tau scaling law. It proposes trading size for time: instead of continuing to reduce the size of the transistor—the industry currently manufactures at nodes of just a few nanometers, a technically challenging and extremely costly process—it proposes cutting the time it takes for the electrical signal to travel between the chip’s components. It does this using a technique called LogicFolding, which involves stacking circuits vertically, in layers, rather than spreading them out on a single plane.
He Tingbo stated that her team has been using the method for six years and has mass-produced 381 chips using it. The Kirin 2026, expected to launch this fall, could be the first in the world to feature this technology. The reaction has been a mix of enthusiasm and skepticism. Several analysts acknowledge that Tau’s law is the most coherent theoretical framework offered so far for the post-Moore era. But stacking computing in three dimensions is not new—other companies have been doing it for years—and experts warn that more layers also mean more heat, poorer manufacturing yields, and higher costs. Nvidia CEO Jensen Huang said it was a major breakthrough for Huawei, but maintained that it does not threaten TSMC.
Huawei was one of the first major companies forced to seek alternatives to Moore’s Law. In 2019, during his first term, Donald Trump added the company to the U.S. trade blacklist. Washington did not manufacture its own chips, but it controlled the design software and equipment without which no one could produce them. The company’s response was to focus on self-sufficiency and invest a massive portion of its resources in R&D (more than 192 billion yuan in 2025, 22% of its revenue). So much so that one of its rotating chairmen, Xu Zhijun, has even thanked the U.S. for the pressure: “If they hadn’t forced us, we wouldn’t have done something like this.”
He has become China’s key asset in weathering U.S. sanctions and building an independent semiconductor industry. In addition to heading Huawei’s semiconductor business, she chairs its scientific committee and is one of only two women on the company’s 17-member board, alongside Meng Wanzhou, the daughter of founder Ren Zhengfei.
He Tingbo grew up in Changsha, the capital of Hunan Province, in the Dongtang area. She attended Huangtuling Primary School, a prestigious institution in the city, for both elementary and middle school. She studied at the Beijing University of Posts and Telecommunications, which she entered after graduating from high school with excellent grades. There she completed her entire higher education: a double bachelor’s degree in Semiconductor Physics and Communications Engineering, followed by a master’s degree in Semiconductor Devices and Physics.
She joined Huawei in 1996 and has been with the company ever since. She started as an engineer, working on the design of optical communication chips at the company’s headquarters in Shenzhen. In 1998, she moved to Shanghai to build a wireless chip team from the ground up and focus on the development of 3G chips.
The turning point came in 2003: Zhengfei put her in charge of chip development with an annual budget of $400 million and a mandate to reduce reliance on foreign suppliers. The following year, Huawei formally established HiSilicon as its semiconductor subsidiary, of which she eventually became president. Under her leadership, HiSilicon evolved from a small internal department into the brainpower behind nearly everything Huawei sells. Her team designed the Kirin processors that power the brand’s phones, the Ascend chips with which the company is taking on Nvidia in artificial intelligence within China, the Kunpeng processors for servers, and the semiconductors that govern 5G networks and antennas.
Before the sanctions, that business was among the largest in the world. But in 2020, the United States barred any factory using American technology—including TSMC—from producing its chips, and the company it had spent 15 years building suddenly lost its manufacturing base: its revenue plummeted by 81% in a single year. It managed a partial comeback in 2023, when it made a surprise reappearance with a phone powered by its own in-house-manufactured chip, though its technology still lagged behind the leaders.
Tau’s strategy is, at its core, the ultimate response to the setback of 2019: if you can’t make smaller parts because you lack the machinery, stop competing on size and start competing on speed. It’s a way to keep moving forward by circumventing the only bottleneck that nearly brought the company to its knees.
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During one of the latest large artillery offensives against Ukrainian territory, on May 24, Russia used two Oreshnik missiles. Throughout the night and at dawn, Moscow launched more than 600 drones and 90 missiles against the capital, Kyiv. Four people were killed and around 100 were wounded. The intermediate-range Oreshniks struck Bila Tserkva, a town south of Kyiv, and the outskirts of the city of Donetsk, territory occupied by Russian forces in the Donbas region in the country’s east. The latter fell there by mistake. Moscow missed its target with a very powerful, hypersonic weapon that is almost impossible to intercept. The warhead was conventional, but this model can carry a nuclear payload. Russian President Vladimir Putin acknowledged last Thursday from Saint Petersburg that the projectile that was lost was “experimental.”
A test, according to the Kremlin’s version, of a missile with great destructive potential that the Russian military has already used on four occasions, always as a conventional weapon, against neighboring Ukraine. The Oreshnik is one of the examples included in the report published on Monday about nuclear arsenals by the Stockholm International Peace Research Institute (SIPRI). The research center says the nine nuclear-armed states (the United States, Russia, the United Kingdom, France, China, India, Pakistan, Israel, and North Korea) “modernized and improved” their arsenals over the past year, deploying new systems to deliver atomic munitions or systems capable of doing so.
Among these advances are the Oreshnik on the Russian side, but also, on the U.S. side, the LGM-35A Sentinel intercontinental missile, the Columbia-class nuclear-powered submarine, and the B-21 Raider heavy bomber. These are only some of the new capabilities for delivering atomic munitions driving the new nuclear arms race.
One of the warnings sounded in the report is the following: nearly four decades after the end of the Cold War, states are again relying on nuclear weapons as instruments of power. And that is despite efforts to reduce the role of such armaments. The need to display atomic muscle to deter adversaries is growing, which increases the risks of miscalculation and escalation at a time when the number of conflicts in the world is rising — the current total is 49 — most of them internal.
During the past year there were six interstate wars: Afghanistan–Pakistan; India–Pakistan; Iran–Israel/United States; Russia–Ukraine; Cambodia–Thailand; and the Democratic Republic of the Congo–Rwanda. Only in the latter two did a nuclear-armed actor not participate.
According to SIPRI’s inventory, completed in January 2026, there are 12,187 nuclear warheads in the world, around 9,745 in military stockpiles for possible use, about 130 more than a year earlier. Of the total, an estimated 4,012 are deployed on missiles, aircraft or in storage — Russia and the United States have over 1,700 each — about 100 more than in January 2025. Between 2,100 and 2,200, mostly Russian and American, are in a state of highest operational alert for immediate use via ballistic missiles.
Despite this, the total number of nuclear warheads continues to decline thanks to the dismantlement processes — faster than production — of those removed from Russian and U.S. arsenals under agreements reached after the fall of the Iron Curtain. The Stockholm research center warns that this trend could reverse in the current context. “There is increasing evidence that nuclear-armed states are setting aside, and even abandoning, their disarmament commitments and, instead, are flaunting their nuclear power,” says Hans M. Kristensen, a researcher at SIPRI.
In technical terms, the alarms are not so much about the number of deployed warheads, which is rising slightly, but about the delivery systems that accompany them and are being renewed at breakneck speed. Nevertheless, beyond the arsenals of less transparent countries such as North Korea, which has about 60 warheads, or Israel, with around 90, SIPRI’s latest inventory draws attention to the growth of China, which now has 620 nuclear warheads, about 20 more than the previous year. It is estimated that most are stockpiled in storage far from silos for launch.
At the Victory Day parade held in September 2025, Beijing displayed several previously unseen systems, such as a new transporter for its DF-31 intercontinental ballistic missiles and a new launcher for the DF-61. Both missile models can carry nuclear warheads.
The rhetoric about the war has once again placed the atomic bomb and its deterrent capacity at the center of attention, even more so after the New Strategic Arms Reduction Treaty, the only surviving U.S.–Russia arms control agreement, expired in February. Since then no public meeting between the parties has been held to renew it. Washington now insists that negotiations include China at the table.
And tensions are rising. Since the start of the invasion of Ukraine, Russia has several times issued threats brandishing its nuclear arsenal, particularly voiced by its former president and current deputy head of the Security Council, Dmitry Medvedev. The United States, despite Donald Trump’s ambiguity about NATO, continues to extend its nuclear umbrella over Europe. The European members of the Alliance — only France and the United Kingdom possess nuclear weapons, 290 and 225 respectively, of a strategic (long-range) character — are aware that without U.S. protection they would have no deterrent capacity.
Washington stores tactical (short-range) munitions in five allied countries (Italy, Germany, Turkey, Belgium and the Netherlands), and other states such as the United Kingdom, Poland, Finland and Sweden have recently signaled interest in hosting this type of armament. In response to this interest, Moscow late last year deployed its hypersonic Oreshniks in neighboring and loyal ally Belarus — the two countries conducted military exercises with nuclear-capable weapons in mid-May. And alongside this increasingly intense battlefield, propaganda in the old Cold War style. On June 5, Saint Petersburg inaugurated an amusement-park attraction decorated with mock missiles and national colors. Its name: Oreshnik.
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