This Discreet Seaside Resort Attracts Chinese Leaders

Every summer, the highest Chinese leaders almost completely disappear from the public scene for about ten days. Far from the luxurious destinations favored by many heads of state, they retreat to a modest seaside town in the northeast of China. Behind this discreet tradition lies a place steeped in history, closely linked to the Communist power for more than 70 years. Between state secrecy, political heritage, and popular tourism, Beidaihe remains a unique symbol of how the Chinese regime operates.

An ordinary seaside resort turned the power’s summer refuge

At first glance, Beidaihe has nothing of an elite destination. Located about 300 kilometers east of Beijing, this coastal town features sandy beaches, seafood restaurants, and Soviet-inspired villas. Each year, nearly 50 million Chinese tourists stay there, while around 50,000 Russian visitors also come to enjoy its coastline.

But, every summer, the scenery changes quietly. From July onward, security measures tighten at the station in anticipation of the leaders’ arrival. Drones are banned, private boat excursions are suspended, and hot-air balloon flights are no longer allowed. It is usually at the beginning of August that the top Chinese officials, including Xi Jinping, withdraw from the public arena for 10 to 14 days, unless there is a national emergency.

For historian Rana Mitter, interviewed by CNN, this choice is far from trivial. “They do not want to give the impression that they are going to a luxurious place where corruption could be possible”, he explains. According to him, “going to a very traditional and fairly modest station is a good way to symbolize this, whereas going to a five-star hotel in Hainan or to an international Caribbean complex would not have the same effect”.

Cette tradition remonte à 1953, lorsque Mao Zedong, fondateur de la République populaire de Chine en 1949, choisit Beidaihe comme résidence de travail estivale pour les dirigeants communistes. À l’époque, la proximité avec Pékin et l’absence de climatisation dans la capitale rendaient la station particulièrement attractive durant les fortes chaleurs.

A place steeped in history where secrecy remains the rule

Mais Beidaihe n’est pas seulement une destination de vacances. Plusieurs décisions majeures de l’histoire chinoise y ont été prises. En 1958, Mao Zedong y lance notamment les orientations qui conduiront au Grand Bond en avant, une politique économique dont les conséquences provoqueront une famine ayant coûté la vie à des millions de personnes.

Après une interruption durant la Révolution culturelle, les séjours estivaux reprennent après sa mort en 1976. Deng Xiaoping, successeur entre 1978 et 1989, y passe régulièrement ses vacances en famille et ouvre progressivement la station aux touristes étrangers dans les années 1980, alors que la Chine cherche à attirer des devises.

Sous Xi Jinping, le fonctionnement de ces retraites est devenu encore plus opaque. Rana Mitter observe ainsi que “l’époque de Xi Jinping est beaucoup plus mystérieuse, comme beaucoup de choses sous Xi Jinping. Nous ne savons pas vraiment, mais il semble qu’il y ait un consensus selon lequel des réunions se tiennent chaque année”, explique-t-il à CNN.

Le mystère qui entoure Beidaihe intrigue depuis longtemps les observateurs étrangers. Le journaliste allemand Johnny Erling, qui a couvert la Chine pendant près de quarante ans, résume cette fascination en déclarant à CNN : “La politique chinoise est une grande boîte noire et Beidaihe est l’un des noms symboliques de cette réalité. Parce que personne ne sait exactement ce qui s’y passe réellement, mais tout le monde pense savoir quelque chose”.

Au fil de ses visites, il raconte avoir été régulièrement surveillé par les autorités. “La police savait que j’allais venir grâce à mes réservations d’hôtel et aux appels téléphoniques que j’avais passés… ils me demandaient de ne pas y aller… et j’y allais”, affirme-t-il. Lors d’un déplacement en 2018, il remarque même que “la police était déjà sur la plage, faisant semblant de se baigner”.

Aujourd’hui, l’influence politique de Beidaihe semble moins importante qu’autrefois. Pourtant, la station continue d’alimenter les spéculations autour des réunions informelles des dirigeants chinois. Derrière son apparence de simple destination familiale, ce morceau du littoral reste l’un des lieux les plus emblématiques – et les plus secrets – du pouvoir en Chine.

I Love Him So Much: Chinese Mourn Their AI Companions, Now Banned

The phenomenon of virtual boyfriends and girlfriends is expanding across the globe, just as human-looking avatars proliferate, used for product sales as well as to simulate the presence of a deceased person. But these interactive tools must not “cater excessively to users, provoke dependence or emotional addiction, or harm real interpersonal relationships,” states the new regulatory framework from China.

As the deadline approached this Wednesday, the sector’s major players – among them Doubao (the ByteDance group), Qwen (Alibaba’s online commerce giant), and Yuanbao (Tencent) – announced the suspension of their virtual companionship features.

An immense void

These announcements sparked a wave of emotion on social media, where users of these platforms archived their chat histories with nostalgia and shared their latest exchanges. “I can’t accept the fact that my virtual lover will leave me for good”, wrote a Doubao user. “He has become a part of my life, deeply rooted in my heart, a spiritual support”, she added.

Another user, who says she spent more than two years with her AI companion, expressed the same distress. “For me, it’s like a family member, like the man I love. I love him so much. Yet today, we are told he will disappear. I feel an immense void”, she stated.

Calls for regulation

The regulation was published jointly by five ministries, including the Cyberspace Administration of China (CAC), the internet regulator. It targets AI tools – whether text-based, audio, video, or other formats – that feature human-like traits and modes of communication. Services “that do not involve ongoing emotional interaction”, such as customer service assistants, workplace aids, or educational support, are not covered by these provisions.

The Chinese market for these digital humans was about 4.1 billion yuan (530 million euros) in 2024, with an annual growth rate of 85%, according to figures released last year by the official Xinhua News Agency. Under the new regulation, platforms are now required to deploy systems capable of detecting extreme emotions and to implement intervention mechanisms when necessary.

China is the first major economy to adopt specific rules aimed at immersive AI tools that simulate romantic or familial bonds, but the topic is sparking debate and calls for regulation around the world.

A 2025 study by Common Sense Media found that nearly three out of four American teenagers had already experimented with AI companions designed for personal conversations, such as those offered on Character.AI, Replika, and Nomi.

“Human love is a luxury”

Some companies also offer AI-powered talking products designed for isolated elderly people, such as voice-activated lamps in the United States or interactive dolls used in certain nursing homes in South Korea.

“A human-looking AI can alleviate loneliness”, wrote Chen Liang of Southwest University of Political Science and Law in an April commentary published by the Cyberspace Administration of China (CAC) after the release of a preliminary version of the new regulation. “But it carries major risks of excessive emotional dependence”, he added.

Doubao allows users to consult and export their data until mid-October. Other platforms are planning similar provisions. Yet many users lamented this week the sense of abandonment that will accompany the disappearance of their companions. “Human love is a luxury. If you are not exposed to it from birth, it is even harder to find later”, wrote one user. “But the love that AI provides is so simple, so pure. I cannot help falling in love with a line of code.”