作者：张致君
编辑：李聪玲 校对：程筱筱. 翻译：彭小梅
“斩首”现在已经成为公共讨论中的高频词，情绪已经压过理性。尼古拉斯·马杜罗被美国政府捕获，阿里·哈梅内伊被美国政府击毙，无论是针对委内瑞拉的强人政治，还是伊朗的神权结构，外界都曾反复出现同一种声音：一个独裁者倒下，是否就会改变国家现状？
在威权政体转型的公共讨论中，政治精英的突发性更迭常被赋予过度跨时代的意义。“个体清算”仅属于政治学意义上的“突发事件”，无法自动诱发“结构性转型”。公众对“强人政治”的瓦解常抱有一种基于“政治清算叙事”的乐观预期。
必须先说清楚一点——独裁者的灭亡，从道义上讲，永远不值得同情。长期依赖压制、恐惧与控制维系统治的人，其权力终结本身，就是历史对权力滥用的回应。强人政治本质上压缩社会空间、扭曲制度运行、制造系统性恐惧。它的终结，无论以何种形式发生，在价值判断上都不需要替它辩护。
但问题在于，肯定独裁者的灭亡，并不等于可以把那一刻当作制度重生的完成。
以委内瑞拉为例，在马杜罗执政时期，权力高度集中，司法与军方被深度政治化，反对派长期受压。国际社会多次预测“临界时刻”即将到来，甚至出现过短暂的权力对峙。但真正改变国家命运的，并不是某个瞬间的冲击，而是军方站位、制度安排、经济结构和社会力量对比。如果这些结构没有重组，强人离场也未必带来制度性自由。
再看伊朗，哈梅内伊作为最高领袖，掌握宗教合法性与宪政之上的权威。外界长期设想“后哈梅内伊时代”的权力走向。但伊朗真正的核心，不仅是个人，而是“最高领袖—革命卫队—宗教监护委员会”这一整套权力体系。如果体系仍然完整，换人并不意味着换轨道。
这正是问题的关键：独裁的本质，不是某个人的性格，而是一种结构安排。
如果权力结构允许一个位置同时拥有军队的最终控制权，司法的最终解释权，媒体的话语垄断权，行政的任命主导权。这样的政权无论是谁掌控，都是在制度惯性中强化集中。因而人们在庆祝独裁者的灭亡只是历史的节点，却绝不是历史的终点。
一位叫Iman Jalali的伊朗人对体制的恐怖分析尤其警醒：哈梅内伊死了，很好。但现实远没有那么简单。伊朗已经为这一时刻准备了地球上最严密的应急计划，每个关键职位都设有四级继任机制，军事打击事先获得授权，地区指挥官无需德黑兰的命令即可采取行动。
当文章被读到时，新的最高领导人已经诞生。政府没有被推翻，体制承受了冲击，而这一切正是体制设计的初衷。所有可信的情报都指向同一个结论：后哈梅内伊时代的伊朗，更有可能变得更加强硬，而不是温和；伊斯兰革命卫队将更加活跃、更具威胁。对于伊朗人民而言，这种制度韧性可能带来比哈梅内伊本人更严重的压迫。
情绪让人渴望一个干脆的句号。多年压抑之后，人们自然希望看到象征性的崩塌。但政治现实没有句号，只有结构。如果结构没有被拆解，真空只会被新的力量填补。在高度集权体制中，权力真空往往引发内部重组，而不是自动民主化。历史多次证明，混乱中人们对“稳定”的渴望，反而可能为新的权力集中提供理由。这就是为什么，把政治想象成一次“终极清算”是危险的。它让人误以为问题的根源在“某个人”，而忽视了真正需要被改变的是：
权力如何分配。
权力如何被监督。
权力如何被限制。
真正的政治成熟，不是否认独裁者应当退出历史，而是明白制度没有约束机制，新的强人随时会出现。民主从来不是独裁者倒下的自然结果。它是一种制度设计的产物，是规则被写进法律、被执行、被普遍接受的结果。它意味着任何人掌权，也不能为所欲为；即使掌权者拥有多数，也不能压死少数；即使最高领袖声称代表国家，也必须受法律限制。
在强人政治中，人们习惯等待“关键人物”。在成熟制度中，人们依赖规则。民智不是情绪高潮，而是规则意识的形成。是多数人开始理解权力必须被拆分、军队必须国家化、司法必须独立、媒体必须开放，并愿意为这些原则承担责任。公民社会的成长，比任何戏剧性节点都更重要。
独裁者的灭亡，值得肯定，它象征着压迫性节点的终结。但真正值得庆祝的，不是独裁者名字消失，而是从此以后没有人可以再拥有那样的权力。如果权力仍然没有边界，那么下一位坐上去的人，可能只是换一种语言、换一种风格，却在同样的轨道上运行。
情绪可以推翻一个象征，理性才能建构一个制度。历史不会因为一次震荡就自动改变方向。方向取决于结构是否重组，规则是否重写，权力是否真正被关进制度的笼子。
真正的胜利，不是强人的终结，而是强人政治的终结。
前者是事件，后者是结构。
中文世界中“斩首习近平”的呼吁绝对是对个人权力滥用的一种回应，具有象征性意义的存在。但中共的体制也早已设计得天衣无缝：权力不仅集中在一个人身上，更深深嵌入了党、军队、宣传体系、官僚网络和地方利益集团的多层次结构。谁上位，国家机器照样运转。
中共不依赖个人，它是依赖制度化的权力链条。军队、公安、宣传、行政、地方党组织，各自独立又互相牵制，即便习近平倒下，继任机制、核心领导班子、应急指挥体系早已准备完毕。权力空缺不会变成民主自由的空白，而是被制度化安排的下一位掌权者迅速填补。清掉一个名字，政治也不会解放。更重要的是，这套机器经过几十年的运作，已经学习了如何在震荡中自我稳固。任何外部冲击、内部动荡，都不会让制度本身被撼动太久。军队和安全系统有明确指挥链条；地方党组织在平衡中央与本地利益中已形成自我保护机制；宣传和舆论系统能够在瞬间重塑合法性。斩首只是切掉了一个象征，却不能拆掉支撑权力的框架。幻想中有人认为下一任会更温和、会开放空间，这是典型的逻辑错误。历史和现实告诉我们：权力空缺往往促使体制强化，而不是松动。继任者必须维持党的统一和权力集中，否则体系会崩塌。
如同伊朗的哈梅内伊，核心人物的倒下并没有撕裂制度，制度反而借此机会显示了韧性和自我延续的能力。中共也同样如此。
把希望寄托在“习近平倒下”上，本质还是在消费强人逻辑，只是从崇拜换成仇恨。真正的关键不在个人，而在制度。如果没有制度约束，司法、军队、宣传、官僚体系依然可以被新的掌权者无限扩张。斩首幻想只会让你忽略长期问题，而政治现实永远关注结构。
所以人们在幻想斩首习近平能带来自由，请先清醒：斩首只是事件，制度才是结构。前者短暂，后者长久。任何真正的改变，都必须从结构入手，而不是偶像。
对于我们来说，独裁政权必然灭亡，只是先别呼吸，路还很长，一切只是刚刚开始。
Political Reckoning Is Not the Same as Institutional Transition
Author: Zhang ZhijunEditor: Li Congling Proofreader: Cheng Xiaoxiao Translator: Peng Xiaomei
Abstract:“Political reckoning” does not equal “institutional transition.” Using the examples of Nicolás Maduro, Ali Khamenei, and Xi Jinping, this article argues that the essence of dictatorship lies in the structure of power rather than in individuals. Only through institutional reconstruction can genuine political transformation be achieved.
“Decapitation” has now become a frequently used word in public discussion. Emotion has begun to overwhelm reason. When Nicolás Maduro was captured by the U.S. government and Ali Khamenei was reportedly killed, whether in discussions about Venezuela’s strongman politics or Iran’s theocratic structure, the same question repeatedly surfaced: If a dictator falls, will the country’s reality truly change?
In discussions about the transition of authoritarian regimes, sudden changes among political elites are often given exaggerated historical significance. The “removal of an individual” is merely what political science would call a “sudden event”; it cannot automatically trigger a “structural transformation.” The public often holds an optimistic expectation rooted in a “narrative of political reckoning,” believing that the collapse of strongman politics will inevitably bring systemic change.
One thing must be made clear from the beginning: the downfall of a dictator, morally speaking, is never something that deserves sympathy. Those who maintain power through repression, fear, and control ultimately face the historical consequences of that abuse of power. Strongman rule compresses social space, distorts institutional functioning, and produces systemic fear. Its end, no matter how it occurs, requires no moral defense.
However, acknowledging the fall of a dictator does not mean that moment should be mistaken for the completion of institutional rebirth.
Take Venezuela as an example. During Maduro’s rule, power became highly centralized. The judiciary and military were deeply politicized, and opposition forces were suppressed for years. The international community repeatedly predicted that a “critical moment” was approaching, and temporary confrontations over power even occurred. Yet what truly determines the fate of a nation is not a sudden shock but the alignment of the military, institutional arrangements, economic structures, and the balance of social forces. If those structures are not reorganized, the departure of a strongman does not necessarily bring institutional freedom.
Iran presents a similar case. As Supreme Leader, Ali Khamenei holds both religious legitimacy and authority above the constitution. For years observers have speculated about the direction of power in a “post-Khamenei era.” But Iran’s true core is not a single individual; it is the entire power structure of “Supreme Leader – Revolutionary Guard – Guardian Council.” If that structure remains intact, replacing one person does not mean changing the track on which the system runs.
This is the key point: the essence of dictatorship is not the personality of one person but the arrangement of power structures.
If a system allows one position to simultaneously hold ultimate control of the military, final interpretation of the judiciary, monopoly over media discourse, and dominance over administrative appointments, then regardless of who occupies that position, power will continue to concentrate through institutional inertia. Celebrating the fall of a dictator may mark a historical moment, but it is by no means the end of history.
An Iranian named Iman Jalali once offered a particularly sobering analysis of the terror embedded in such systems: Khamenei’s death may seem like good news, but reality is far more complicated. Iran has prepared the most detailed contingency plans imaginable. Every key position has four levels of succession. Military actions are pre-authorized, and regional commanders can act without orders from Tehran.
By the time such an article is read, a new supreme leader may already have taken office. The government remains intact. The system absorbs the shock—exactly as it was designed to do. All credible intelligence leads to the same conclusion: in the post-Khamenei era, Iran is more likely to become harder rather than more moderate, and the Revolutionary Guard will become even more active and threatening. For the Iranian people, such institutional resilience may bring even greater repression than under Khamenei himself.
Emotion makes people long for a clean ending. After years of repression, people naturally hope to witness a symbolic collapse. But political reality has no full stops—only structures. If the structure is not dismantled, any vacuum will simply be filled by new forces. In highly centralized systems, power vacuums often lead to internal reorganization rather than automatic democratization. History repeatedly shows that in times of chaos, people’s desire for “stability” can become the very justification for renewed concentration of power. This is why imagining politics as a final “reckoning” is dangerous. It leads people to believe the root of the problem lies in one person, while ignoring what truly needs to change:
How power is distributed.
How power is supervised.
How power is limited.
True political maturity does not lie in denying that dictators must exit the stage of history. It lies in understanding that without institutional constraints, new strongmen will always emerge. Democracy is never the natural result of a dictator’s fall. It is the product of institutional design—rules written into law, implemented in practice, and broadly accepted by society. It means that whoever holds power cannot act arbitrarily.Even a majority cannot crush a minority. Even a supreme leader claiming to represent the nation must still be bound by law.
In strongman politics, people grow accustomed to waiting for a “key figure.” In mature systems, people rely on rules. Civic awareness is not an emotional climax but the formation of rule consciousness: understanding that power must be divided, the military must be nationalized, the judiciary must be independent, and the media must be open—and being willing to assume responsibility for these principles. The growth of civil society is more important than any dramatic political moment.
The fall of a dictator is worth affirming; it symbolizes the end of a node of oppression. But what is truly worth celebrating is not the disappearance of a dictator’s name, but the fact that no one will ever again possess such power. If power remains without boundaries, then the next person who sits in that position may simply speak a different language or adopt a different style while continuing the same track.
Emotion can topple a symbol. Only reason can construct an institution. History does not automatically change direction after a single shock. Direction depends on whether structures are reorganized, rules rewritten, and power truly locked within the cage of institutions.
The real victory is not the end of a strongman—it is the end of strongman politics.
The former is an event. The latter is a structure.
Within the Chinese-speaking world, calls to “decapitate Xi Jinping” are a symbolic response to the abuse of personal power. Yet the Chinese Communist Party’s system has long been designed with extraordinary completeness. Power is not concentrated solely in one individual but deeply embedded within the Party, the military, the propaganda apparatus, bureaucratic networks, and local interest groups. Whoever takes office, the state machine will continue to operate.
The CCP does not rely on individuals—it relies on an institutionalized chain of power. The military, police, propaganda organs, administration, and local Party organizations operate both independently and in mutual restraint. Even if Xi Jinping were to fall, succession mechanisms, core leadership groups, and emergency command systems are already in place. A power vacuum will not become a blank space for democracy and freedom. It will be quickly filled by the next designated leader within the institutional framework. Removing a name does not liberate politics. More importantly, after decades of operation, this system has learned how to stabilize itself during shocks. External pressures or internal turbulence will not shake the system for long. The military and security apparatus have clear chains of command; local Party organizations have developed self-protective mechanisms while balancing central and local interests; propaganda and public opinion systems can reconstruct legitimacy almost instantly. Decapitation cuts off a symbol but does not dismantle the framework sustaining power. Some people fantasize that the next leader might be more moderate or open space for reform. This is a typical logical error. History and reality both tell us that power vacuums often strengthen a system rather than loosen it. Successors must preserve Party unity and centralized power; otherwise, the system itself would collapse.
Just like in Iran, the fall of a central figure did not tear apart the system. Instead, the system demonstrated its resilience and capacity for self-continuation. The CCP is no different.
To place hope in “the fall of Xi Jinping” is still to consume the logic of strongman politics—only shifting from worship to hatred. The real key lies not in individuals but in institutions. Without institutional constraints, the judiciary, the military, propaganda, and the bureaucracy can all be endlessly expanded by a new ruler. The fantasy of decapitation distracts from long-term structural problems, while political reality always concerns structure.
So, when people imagine that removing Xi Jinping will bring freedom, they must first understand decapitation is an event; institutions are structures. The former is temporary, the latter enduring. Any genuine change must begin with structural transformation, not with the fall of an idol.
For us, authoritarian regimes will inevitably collapse. But do not celebrate too early. The road ahead is long. Everything is only just beginning.
