Why India Won’t and Shouldn’t Be the ‘Next China’
Editor’s Note: On June 21, we sat down in Beijing with Jyotishman Mudiar, host of the YouTube channel India & Global Left, and explored question "Will India be the 'next China'?" The following is a lightly edited transcript of our interview, revised for clarity and readability.
Question:
In Western countries, people often ask questions like, “Is India the next China?” What’s your take on this question?
Mr. Jyotishman Mudiar, Host of the YouTube channel India & Global Left
Mr. Jyotishman Mudiar:
I think this is actually a misleading way to think about the future. There won’t be a “next China” in the same sense that there was a China, because history doesn’t repeat itself.
Take, for instance, the Chinese revolution. The conditions under which the Communist Party emerged as the national leadership—whether it was in the context of imperialism or the struggle for land rights—those conditions no longer exist. We can’t simply bring them back. They might reappear in different forms, but countries have to create their own historical moments. Today, we don’t live in a world where, for a socialist revolution to occur, every country can expect a Communist Party to emerge out of a warlike situation, leading both anti-imperial struggles and agrarian land reforms simultaneously. That specific context was unique.
No country today is reproducing those same conditions. And if you think about China’s success after its economic reforms, it was also a very particular moment. Chinese industrial labor was competing against much more expensive labor in the U.S., Germany, and other Western countries. Even labor in other developing regions was relatively more expensive than China’s at the time. So it was a different situation.
Now, if India wants to industrialize, it still faces competition from China. And here’s the remarkable thing about Chinese industrialization: because of China’s sheer size and internal regional disparities, it has never moved up the value chain in the traditional way that smaller countries do.
In smaller countries, when you move up the value chain, you begin to offshore the lower-end production. But China still has a vast hinterland where per capita income is two to three times lower than in coastal regions. As wages have risen in coastal China, many assembly and production lines have moved inland. We’re now seeing new factories and industrial hubs emerge in western China. I don’t think those are going away anytime soon. So here’s the key: China is simultaneously producing airplanes, fighter jets, AI, and biotechnology and still making toys, leather goods, and textiles. It has not abandoned the low-end sectors. And it’s not planning to evacuate them anytime soon. For African and South Asian countries rethinking their industrial policies, the option of export-led growth—the way China did it—is becoming more difficult.
Secondly, we’re not living in the same globalized world anymore. Trade and global investment are no longer encouraged as they were in the 1990s and early 2000s. President Trump has run roughshod over the global trade order, and that disruption has had a major impact on investment flows. With growing uncertainty, we know capital tends to flee emerging markets and flow into safe havens in the Global North.
So the way China attracted FDI, and the way China could export at scale, may not be replicable for other countries in the next decade or so.
Also, the West is now very stagnant. When China rose in the 1980s, ’90s, and 2000s, the western economies were not in their ventilator. But now, Europe has stopped growing, and I don’t see it recovering anytime soon. There’s a persistent slump in global demand, significantly exacerbated since the 2008 global financial crisis. Even U.S. growth rates post-crisis are far below previous levels.
China has managed to add demand, but interestingly, much of that demand now feeds its own supply chains. As China faces backlash from Europe and the West, it is pivoting some of its export-led growth toward domestic consumption. This shift is notable because China’s share of domestic consumption, relative to total investment, has traditionally been low. Now, there’s more room, and increasing discussion about boosting domestic demand through various mechanisms. So a lot of the new demand generated in China will likely be consumed by Chinese industries themselves.
So, overall, I would say it’s futile to imagine India becoming the next China—if by that you mean replicating China’s path. Those paths can’t simply be retraced. However, if by “next China” you mean a country that becomes globally significant in its own way, then that’s a different question. And even there, I’m not overly optimistic about India. Not because India’s aggregate power won’t grow—it definitely will. India is growing at 7%, and will likely continue to grow for a while. It also has a large population. So in aggregate terms, India’s influence will certainly rise.
But the reality is more complex. India ranks around 111th in the Global Hunger Index. It still hosts the largest number of malnourished, stunted, and undernourished people. Literacy is still in the low 70s for males and high 60s for females.
Indian cities desperately lack basic infrastructure. When you have this kind of crisis in your own backyard, even if you show real GDP growth and increasing aggregate power, India still won’t look like China. Just walk into Indian cities—you see people begging, broken infrastructure, waste disposal systems that barely function, and inadequate public transport systems.
I do believe India can fix these problems. And if it does, and continues to grow, then yes—India will certainly be one of the major global players in the next 50 years, alongside China and the United States.
For over 1,500 years of the last 2025, India was the largest economy.
India is where China was 20 years ago, and it won’t take 20 years to catch up with modern technology.
India had 250 years of occupation and looting from UK (they stole the equivalent of $68 TRILLION), before that it faced over 1,000 years of attacks from Islamic invaders. It will recover, it survived them all.
Whatever may be, China shouldn’t fear India’s rise, China can’t face the West alone. China and India have spent thousands of years in peace, with a few hiccups. China shouldn’t act like USA, it should be better.
From Tan Wah Piow, London
China Academy carries an interview on 21 June 2025 with Jyotishman Mudiar, host of the YouTube channel India & Global Left. Although the theme of the interview was "AI is Robbing our Jobs: What can Workers Do”, Jvotishman Mudiar made various observations about AI and Socialism. Below are my comments.
When Socialist Ideals Grapple with the Digital Age's Realities
In the introduction to the interview, Mudiar noted: What worries me—beyond the labour-capital relationship, which is of course the heart of socialism—is this dramatic collapse of the idea of the collective, the idea of public good, of solidarity. We’re being reduced to individual atoms, effectively creating a social-Darwinian world, a hierarchy world, where no reality exists outside your own individual self. That is deeply concerning for me. And I don’t think AI will help us—unless we, as humanity, seriously reflect on these changes and develop collective defence mechanisms against them.
Mudiar offers a thought-provoking, albeit deeply pessimistic, exploration of technology's impact on contemporary society and, by extension, on the very essence of socialist thought.
While the interview commendably highlights critical challenges posed by technological shifts, its overall tone risks sounding like a modern-day Luddite, and in its lament for a vanishing collective, it misses the foundational point of socialism as a transformative system of economic relationships in human society.
Beyond Sentiment to Structure
Mudiar’s central premise seems to define "the heart of socialism" primarily through the lens of collective belonging and solidarity. While these are undoubtedly vital aspects of a socialist society, Mudiar’s emphasis on their "dramatic collapse" due to technology appears to misinterpret the fundamental nature of socialism itself.
Socialism, at its core, is a stage of human society where the means of production are socialised, as opposed to privatised under capitalism. It's about who owns and controls the tools, factories, land, and now, the algorithms and data that drive our economy.
By focusing almost exclusively on the erosion of social cohesion, Mudiar detaches the "heart" from the "body" of socialist theory – the material conditions and economic structures that enable or hinder collective action and shared prosperity.
The concern about a "social-Darwinian world" where individuals are reduced to "atoms" is valid, but this outcome is a product of unchecked capitalism, not technology in a vacuum. If the means of production, including advanced technologies like AI, were democratically controlled and used for collective benefit, the outcomes could be vastly different. One such example is the use of big data and AI to democratise health care, or eventually the rule of law.
Mudiar’s failure to consistently anchor its socialist critique in this foundational understanding weakens its argument.
Technology: A Socialist Tool, Not Just an Oppressor
Mudiar rightly acknowledges the liberating potential of technology, citing the Dalit movement's advocacy for AI to replace menial, degrading labour. This crucial point, however, is largely overshadowed by a pervasive sense of technological determinism, where technology is seen primarily as an agent of fragmentation and disempowerment.
Indeed, technology is not fundamentally opposed to socialist principles. In a socialised economy, AI could be a powerful tool for optimising resource allocation, enhancing public services, and ultimately freeing human labour from drudgery.
A crucial point often overlooked is how AI can actively serve socialist goals within a marketplace, effectively replacing the imperfect 'invisible hand' of Adam Smith. In fact, with AI, it strengthens the argument for the socialist cause.
For instance, under democratic control, the state could leverage AI to precisely identify and target those living in abject poverty, as seen in China's remarkable poverty alleviation efforts, which would be incredibly challenging without such technological precision.
Furthermore, AI could be deployed to combat corruption, detect crime, and even expose injustices, acting as a powerful mechanism for transparency and accountability within a system striving for equity. The issue isn't the technology itself, but who controls it and for what purpose.
At a global level, AI will eventually be an indispensable tool to help bridge the technological North-South divide and solve the global environmental problem.
Under capitalism, technology is often deployed to maximize profit, leading to automation-driven job displacement and increased control for capital. This is a critical distinction that Mudiar sometimes blurs, painting technology with too broad a brush of negativity.
The Shifting Sands of Labour Power: A Capitalist Consequence
Mudiar acutely observes how technological revolutions, from container ships to disarticulated assembly lines and subcontracting, have "significantly shifted the balance of power within the labour-capital relationship—toward capital." The example of Nike's fragmented production chain vividly illustrates how globalised capitalism, aided by technology, undermines labour'ss ability to organise and strike.
This analysis of how technology facilitates the creation of a "larger reserve army of labour" and diminishes bargaining power is a powerful and accurate critique of capitalism's strategic use of technological advancements to suppress wages and weaken unions.
However, this insightful observation inadvertently reinforces the point that the problem isn't technology per se, but its deployment within a capitalist framework.
If a socialist society were to utilize these same technologies, the goal would be to reduce onerous work, redistribute wealth, and enhance leisure time for all, rather than concentrating power and profit.
The Erosion of the Collective: A Symptom, Not the Disease
Mudiar’s deep concern about the "dramatic collapse of the idea of the collective, the idea of public good, of solidarity" is perhaps the most emotionally resonant aspect of the interview. The anxieties around children's isolation due to digital devices, the individualistic mindset fostered by commercial platforms, and the redefinition of collective goods into narrow, nationalistic sentiments are palpable. Mudiar examines the themes of alienation and atomization in modern societies, noting that even "the rich increasingly feel victimised everywhere."
Yet, these are symptoms of a deeper malaise: unfettered capitalism's relentless commodification of life and its promotion of hyper-individualism. Technology, in this context, acts as an accelerant, not the root cause. Mudiar laments for a lost sense of "neighbourhood socialisation" and the "work unit system that China used to have" evokes nostalgia for forms of collective organisation that, while imperfect, offered a counterpoint to pure individualism. On the other hand, AI and digital technology are increasingly used creatively as tools to unite communities and help achieve a better society. They can empower the “marginalised” majority, undermining old power structures.
Ultimately, while Mudiar effectively articulates the anxieties and challenges posed by rapid technological advancement under capitalism, its critique would be strengthened by a more precise differentiation between the inherent nature of technology and its specific applications within a given economic system. To build collective "defence mechanisms" against these changes, as Mudiar advocates, we must first understand that the battle for the "heart of socialism" is not against technology itself, but against the capitalist structures that wield it for private gain and social fragmentation.